Summary: Y/N Alvez visits Quantico for a week with her brother Luke, expecting nothing more than a family trip. But when the BAU needs an extra hand on a major case, Emily recruits Y/N—an FBI Intelligence Analyst from another division. There, she meets Elias Voit, a brilliant new profiler with a guarded heart. Their instant chemistry is obvious to everyone, prompting the BAU to start a betting pool on one question:
Who will admit their feelings first?
This is for Anon 💥! Hope this is okay!
Luke Alvez knew exactly three things that morning.
Garcia had somehow convinced Rossi to wear a tie with tiny dogs on it.
Emily was already on her third cup of coffee before eight.
His little sister was about to walk through the BAU doors for the very first time.
"You've checked your phone twelve times in the last five minutes." Luke didn't bother looking up from the screen. "I have not."
"You have," Tara replied, not even glancing away from the file in front of her. JJ smiled over the rim of her coffee mug. "You know she's twenty-six, right? She doesn't need an escort."
Luke shrugged. "I just want to make sure she found parking." Garcia poked her head out of her office. "Oh my gosh." "What?" "You've gone full protective older brother." "I've always been protective."
Emily walked out of her office, folder tucked beneath her arm. "He's been talking about her all week." Luke looked genuinely offended. "I've mentioned her."
"You told Rossi she still calls you when she has a flat tire." "She does." "You also told us she steals your hoodies." "Because she does."
"And," Garcia added dramatically, "you told me she once punched a guy for insulting your haircut in high school." Luke's lips twitched. "He deserved it."
The elevator dinged. Conversation stopped. A woman stepped out carrying a navy duffel bag over one shoulder and a coffee in her free hand.
She looked around before spotting Luke. "There you are." The grin that spread across Luke's face was one no one at the BAU had ever seen before.
He crossed the bullpen in seconds, wrapping his sister in a hug that lifted her off the floor. "Lukey!" "You still call me that?" "You still answer to it." He laughed as he set her down. "You made it." "Barely. Whoever designed the parking lot should be arrested."
Luke shook his head. "Come on." He picked up her bag before leading her toward the team. Everyone immediately understood why Luke talked about her so much.
She carried herself with an easy confidence—not arrogant, just comfortable in her own skin. Her smile was warm enough to light up the room, and despite being somewhere completely unfamiliar, she looked perfectly at ease. "This is everyone."
Emily stepped forward first. "Emily Prentiss." "It's nice to finally meet the woman who apparently keeps my brother from doing anything too stupid," Emily smirked. "We try." JJ introduced herself next, followed by Tara and Rossi.
Garcia didn't even bother with a handshake. She wrapped Y/N in a hug instead. "Oh, I love you already." Y/N laughed. "I've heard so much about you." "Only good things?" "...Mostly."
Garcia gasped dramatically. "Luke!" "He exaggerates." "I absolutely do not." "You absolutely do." The room filled with easy laughter.
Emily watched the siblings with an amused smile. "So, where are you stationed?" "Behavioural Analysis Support." Emily's eyebrows lifted. "Really?" Y/N nodded. "Mostly intelligence analysis and behavioural pattern mapping. Less fieldwork than Luke."
Luke nudged her shoulder. "She won't admit it, but she's terrifying at finding connections nobody else sees." Y/N rolled her eyes. "I just like puzzles."
Before anyone could reply, the elevator opened again. A tall man stepped out carrying two coffees and a thick case folder tucked beneath one arm.
His tie was slightly crooked. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms. There were faint circles beneath his eyes that suggested he'd stayed up too late reviewing evidence. He was reading through notes as he walked.
Without looking up, he spoke. "I found another inconsistency in—" He stopped. His eyes landed on Y/N.
For just a moment... Everything else disappeared. She blinked once. Then smiled. "You must be Elias." His eyebrows lifted. "I am." "You've got profiler written all over you." "Oh?"
"You walked in reading instead of watching where you were going." "...Fair." "You bought two coffees." "I did." "One's black." "It is." "The other has caramel." "...Yes." "You remembered someone else's order." He couldn't help smiling. "I did." "So you're thoughtful."
Luke looked between them. "They've known each other for five seconds." Garcia quietly leaned toward JJ. "Five very interesting seconds." Elias finally stepped closer. "I'm Elias." "Y/N." He offered his hand. She took it. Neither of them realized they hadn't let go. Until Luke cleared his throat.
Simultaneously, they pulled away. "Sorry." "No, I—" They spoke at the same time. Then laughed. Again. Rossi looked at Tara. "...Did you see that?" "Oh, I saw it."
Emily watched Elias. He smiled often. But never like that. Never so... naturally. Luke, completely oblivious, slung an arm around his sister's shoulders. "She's staying with me for the week." Garcia's eyes sparkled. "A week?"
Emily noticed that look immediately. "No." Garcia looked innocent. "What?" "I know that face." "I don't have a face." "You absolutely have a face." "I have ideas." "We're not encouraging them."
Too late. Garcia was already opening the Notes app on her phone.
The call came less than fifteen minutes later. A series of murders across Virginia. Three victims. No obvious connection.
Emily looked around the room. "We leave in twenty." Luke frowned. "My sister just got here." Y/N smiled. "I'll entertain myself." Emily paused. Then looked at Y/N. "You said Behavioural Analysis Support?" "Yeah." "Would your supervisor mind if I borrowed you for a few days?" Luke blinked. "...Seriously?" Emily shrugged. "Fresh eyes."
Y/N looked surprised. "You sure?" "I've read your work." "You have?" Emily nodded. "It was impressive." Luke looked between the two women. "I didn't even know you knew each other." "We've emailed." "...Huh."
Y/N smiled. "I'd love to help." The jet was louder than Y/N expected. She sat across from Elias, reviewing the victimology. "You've already highlighted everything." He glanced up. "I colour-code."
"I noticed." "You disapprove?" "I approve too much." He chuckled. "You organize your notes alphabetically." She blinked. "...How did you know that?"
"You corrected Luke when he said a file was 'somewhere in the middle.'" "I did." "You knew exactly where it was." "...Okay, that's fair." She laughed. "I've been profiled." "You have." "Should I be worried?" "Not unless you alphabetize your spice rack." "..." "..."
"...It's colour-coded." He stared. "No." "Yes." He laughed so hard he nearly dropped his file.
Across the cabin...Garcia slowly lowered her tablet. "Emily." "I know." "Tara." "I know." JJ smiled knowingly. "They're adorable." Luke looked up from his own file. "Who is?" Everyone answered a little too quickly. "No one."
He frowned. "...You're all acting weird." "We're professionals," Rossi said with a perfectly straight face. Luke narrowed his eyes. "I've known you, people, for years." Emily smiled. "And yet somehow you still trust us."
Over the next three days, the case became increasingly complex. Y/N and Elias somehow always ended up together. Reviewing crime scene photos. Interviewing witnesses. Building timelines. Finishing each other's theories before the other had spoken them aloud.
"You were thinking geographical comfort zones," Elias said one evening. Y/N looked up from the map. "I was." "You think he's local." "I do." "So do I."
Luke walked into the conference room carrying takeout. He stopped. They hadn't noticed him. Both were leaning over the same map, shoulders brushing every few seconds.
Y/N pointed toward one neighbourhood. "If his first victim wasn't planned..." Elias nodded before she finished. "...then this becomes his anchor." She smiled. "You stole my thought." "I arrived there first." "I doubt it." "You wound me."
Luke slowly backed out of the room. He found Emily almost immediately. "...Something's wrong." Emily looked up from her paperwork. "What is it?" "My sister." "What about her?" "...She's smiling."
Emily blinked. "...Luke." "She only smiles like that around people she really likes." Emily pressed her lips together. "Oh..." Luke frowned. "What?" "...Nothing." He looked suspicious. "What aren't you telling me?"
Emily took a slow sip of coffee. "You'll figure it out." "What will I figure out?"
From across the bullpen, Garcia made eye contact with Emily. Emily gave the tiniest shake of her head. Garcia sighed dramatically.
Fine. The betting pool would stay a secret. For now...
The next morning, the local precinct buzzed with controlled chaos.
Detectives hurried through the bullpen carrying evidence boxes while officers fielded calls from reporters camped outside.
Y/N stood in front of the victim board, one hand tucked beneath her chin. Three victims. Three locations. Three completely different lifestyles. "It doesn't fit."
Elias walked over, balancing two coffees. "You've said that six times." "Because it doesn't." He held one of the cups out. "Thought you might need this."
She smiled before taking it. "You remembered." "You strike me as someone unpleasant before caffeine." "I'm always pleasant." He raised an eyebrow.
Luke walked past at exactly the wrong moment. "No, she isn't." Y/N gasped. "I'll remember this betrayal." "You once threatened to hide my truck keys because I ate the last slice of pizza." "You did eat the last slice." "It was my pizza." "It was our pizza."
Elias laughed quietly, watching the siblings bicker like they hadn't seen each other in years. It was...nice. Comfortable. Normal. Something he'd never really had growing up. Y/N noticed the smile lingering on his face. "What?"
He looked back at her. "Hm?" "You're smiling." "I am?" "You look like you're watching your favourite sitcom." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just...forgot siblings could be like that."
She tilted her head. "Like what?" "...Close." The teasing smile slowly faded from her face.
Luke had wandered off to talk with the sheriff, leaving the two of them standing alone near the evidence board. "You and your family aren't?" He stared into his coffee. "It's complicated." She didn't push. Didn't ask for details. Didn't try to fill the silence. She simply stood beside him. Sometimes silence was kinder than questions. Elias noticed.
Most people hated silence. They rushed to fill it. She didn't. "You don't have to tell me," she said softly. "I know." "But if you ever want to..." He looked over at her. "...I'll listen." For a split second... His walls cracked.
Just enough for her to see that there was something heavy behind them. Then his phone rang. The moment disappeared.
Later that afternoon, the team regrouped around the geographical profile. Emily looked between Y/N and Elias. "You two have something." They exchanged confused looks. "What?" "The map." "Oh." Y/N stepped forward.
"We think the unsub isn't choosing locations." Tara nodded. "Go on." Elias pointed toward the board. "Everyone assumed these were disposal sites." "They're not," Y/N continued. "They're memories." The room fell silent. She picked up a marker. "If you overlay childhood census records with redevelopment plans..." Garcia's fingers flew across her keyboard. "...Oh my God."
Emily looked over. "What?" "I found an elementary school." Elias looked at Y/N. She was already smiling. "I knew it." "You did." "The unsub grew up here." Garcia turned her monitor. "The school burned down nineteen years ago."
Rossi crossed his arms. "So every victim has a connection to it." JJ looked impressed. "Nice catch." Luke smiled proudly. "Told you she sees things."
Emily didn't miss the way Elias looked at Y/N. Not admiration. Something warmer. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with profiling. Garcia noticed too. She quietly opened the Notes app.
Worth the Bet
Garcia – Four days
JJ – Three
Tara – One week
Rossi – Elias first
Emily – Mutual realization after the case
Current update:
Elias is absolutely gone.
She grinned to herself.
That evening, after interviewing witnesses for nearly twelve hours, the team finally checked into the hotel.
Everyone scattered to their rooms. Everyone... Except Y/N. She found Elias sitting alone outside near the fire pit.
The flames reflected softly against his features as he stared into the fire with a notebook resting on his knee. "You planning to profile the fire?" He glanced up. A smile appeared immediately. "It refuses to cooperate." She laughed before sitting beside him.
For several minutes... Neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was peaceful. "I like this," Elias admitted. "The silence?" He nodded. "Most people think silence means something's wrong."
"My mom used to say silence is only awkward if someone makes it awkward." He smiled. "Smart woman." "The smartest." The fire crackled between them.
After a long pause, Elias finally spoke again. "My dad left when I was eight." Y/N stayed quiet. "My mom worked three jobs."
He gave a small laugh. "I practically raised myself." "You did a pretty good job." "I don't know about that." "I do." He looked at her. "You've spent four days with me." "And?" "You can't know someone that quickly." "I disagree." "Oh?" "I think you can learn a lot about someone in four days."
He smiled. "Such as?" "You always make coffee for someone else." "..." "You ask everyone else if they're okay before admitting you're exhausted." "..." "You remember everyone's favourite snacks." "..." "You apologize when someone bumps into you."
He blinked. "...I do?" "You do." She smiled softly. "And you don't think you're worth taking care of." His breath caught. She hadn't said it accusingly. She hadn't said it like she was trying to fix him. She'd simply... Seen him. No one had ever looked at him like that before.
"I think," she continued quietly, "you spend so much time making sure everyone else is okay that nobody asks if you are." The fire popped. He looked down. "I'm...trying." "I know." "I've made mistakes." "We all have." "You don't know mine." "No."
She reached over, gently covering his hand with hers. "But I know they don't define you." His fingers instinctively curled around hers. Neither of them noticed. Until Luke's voice echoed across the parking lot. "There you are!"
Both of them jumped apart so quickly it was almost comical. Luke walked over carrying a bag of takeout. "I've been looking everywhere." Y/N looked entirely too interested in the fire. "We were just talking." Luke looked between them. "Mhm."
Elias suddenly found the pavement fascinating. Luke frowned. "...Why are you both acting weird?" Before either of them could answer— Garcia stepped out of the hotel. She took one look at the scene. Y/N blushing. Elias refusing to make eye contact. Luke looking completely confused.
Garcia slowly turned around and walked back inside. She found Emily in the lobby. Without saying a word... She held out her hand. Emily sighed. "...How much?" "Twenty."
Emily reluctantly handed over a twenty-dollar bill. "You already lost?" "I had 'after the case.'" Emily pinched the bridge of her nose. "They held hands, didn't they?" "They absolutely held hands."
From the other side of the lobby, Rossi overheard. He smiled into his glass of scotch. "I told you." Tara looked up from her book.
"Elias is falling first." Garcia grinned. "Oh, he's already fallen." "The only people who don't know it..." She looked toward the window where Luke was still talking to them. "...are the two standing next to him."
And somehow... That made the bet even more entertaining.
The following morning started before sunrise.
The conference room at the precinct was dimly lit, half-empty coffee cups scattered across the table as everyone worked through the night without much success.
Emily stood at the whiteboard. "We know who he is." Garcia nodded from her laptop. "We know where he grew up." JJ sighed. "But we still don't know where he's keeping the next victim."
Silence settled over the room. Y/N stared at the board. Three victims. Three dates. Three locations. Three... Her eyes narrowed. "No..." Elias looked over. "What?"
She stood so suddenly that her chair rolled backward. "The dates." "What about them?" "They're wrong." Luke frowned. "They're confirmed."
"No." She shook her head, already grabbing a marker. "They're the dates they were found." Everyone watched as she scribbled each victim's timeline onto the board. "When were they reported missing?"
Garcia's keyboard clacked furiously. "Uh..." A few seconds passed. Then—"Oh." Emily looked over. "What?" "They all disappeared on Thursdays." Y/N circled each date. "Not Fridays."
Elias was already beside her. "So the killer isn't recreating murders." She looked at him, excitement sparking in her eyes. "He's recreating a school schedule." His eyes widened. "The fire."
"He isn't remembering the day it burned." "He's remembering the last week he was there." Emily grabbed her jacket. "Garcia, find every student enrolled during that final week." "Already on it."
Luke looked between his sister and Elias. They were practically finishing each other's sentences again. He narrowed his eyes. "...Huh."
An hour later, SWAT surrounded an abandoned community center on the edge of town.
The unsub had taken another victim. This time...The BAU got there in time. The rescue was quick. The arrest was cleaner than most. By noon, everyone was back at the precinct finishing reports.
Another case closed. Another family reunited. Another life saved.
That evening, the team finally returned to Quantico. Everyone was exhausted. Luke was looking forward to sleeping for twelve straight hours.
Instead...He walked into the bullpen to find Garcia, Rossi, JJ, Tara and Emily standing in an unusually suspicious circle.
"...What are you doing?" Five heads turned simultaneously. "Nothing." Luke sighed. "You've said 'nothing' every day this week." "Because nothing is happening." "I don't believe you." "You shouldn't," Rossi muttered.
Luke heard that. "What was that?" "I said your hearing is excellent." "It sounded like something else." "It wasn't." Luke crossed his arms. "I've worked with profilers for years."
Emily smiled. "And yet..." Garcia suddenly clapped her hands. "Y/N!" Luke turned.
His sister had just stepped off the elevator carrying two boxes from the café downstairs. "I brought pastries!"
Garcia immediately abandoned the conversation. "My favourite person!" Y/N laughed. "I bribed you." "It worked." She placed the boxes on the conference table.
As everyone helped themselves, Elias walked in a few moments later. His hair was still damp from the rain outside. He looked exhausted. Y/N looked up. "You haven't eaten." He blinked. "...How did you know?" "You skipped breakfast." "I—" "You gave Luke your fries yesterday."
Luke paused mid-bite. "...You noticed that?" She shrugged. "You've also had four coffees today." Elias looked genuinely caught. "...Maybe."
She reached into the pastry box. Without asking... She handed him the only cinnamon roll. His favourite. He looked at it. Then at her. "You remembered." She smiled. "You smiled after the first bite the other day." "You noticed that?" "I notice lots of things."
He laughed softly. "Apparently."
Across the room... Garcia dramatically grabbed JJ's arm. "Oh my gosh." "I know." "They're disgusting." "The cute kind." "The absolute cutest." Luke looked up. "What?" Garcia smiled too brightly. "Nothing!"
Luke slowly looked around the room. Emily wouldn't meet his eyes. Tara was suddenly fascinated by her coffee. JJ looked like she was trying not to laugh. Rossi had the expression of a man watching his favourite television show. "...Okay."
Something was definitely happening.
Three days later...Y/N's visit was coming to an end. Luke helped carry her suitcase downstairs to the lobby. "I still think you should stay longer." "I have work, remember?" "I know." He smiled sadly. "It was nice having you around." She bumped his shoulder. "I'll visit again." "You better."
One by one, the team came down to say goodbye. JJ hugged her. "You fit in around here." Emily nodded. "Door's always open." Tara smiled warmly. "Next time, stay longer." Garcia squeezed her so tightly, Y/N laughed. "I refuse to say goodbye." "So...see you later?" "See you later."
Finally...Only Elias remained. The lobby suddenly felt much quieter. Luke noticed. So did everyone else. Conveniently... Garcia loudly announced, "Luke!" "What?" "I need your help upstairs!" "I think you can manage—" "Nope!"
Before Luke could protest, Rossi casually placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come on." "I'm literally saying goodbye to my sister." "It'll take two minutes." Luke frowned. "...Why is everyone weird?"
Emily gently steered him toward the elevator. "We're not weird." "You absolutely are." The elevator doors closed.
Leaving... Y/N and Elias alone.
For the first time all week. Neither of them spoke. Finally... Elias rubbed the back of his neck. "So..." "So." "I guess this is goodbye." She smiled softly. "I guess."
Another silence. This one... Far less comfortable. "I'll miss talking to you." His admission surprised even him. She looked up. "I'll miss you too."
His heart stumbled. There it was. Simple. Honest. Real. He took a slow breath. "I've been trying really hard not to say something." Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh?" "Because we just met." She nodded. "And because I don't usually..." He laughed nervously. "I don't usually feel like this."
She stepped a little closer. "What does 'this' feel like?" He smiled helplessly. "Like I met someone I've known for years." She swallowed. Because she'd been feeling exactly the same.
"I keep thinking," he admitted quietly, "that maybe if we'd met earlier..." "We would've still ended up here." He looked into her eyes. "You think?" "I do."
She reached for his hand. This time... Neither of them pulled away. "I like you, Elias." He laughed softly. "I was really hoping you'd say that." "I've liked you since you tried to profile me over coffee." "I wasn't profiling you." "You absolutely were." "I was admiring your observational skills."
She smiled. "That's a very profiler answer." "It is." He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her gaze again. "I'd really like to take you on a proper date."
She grinned. "I was wondering when you'd ask." "So that's a yes?" She pretended to think. "Hmm..." He laughed. "I knew you'd make me sweat." "I have to keep you humble."
Then she leaned forward... Pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek. "I'd love to."
From inside the elevator that had mysteriously stopped between floors...Five people and one very impatient Luke were watching the security monitor on Garcia's tablet.
Garcia squealed so loudly she nearly dropped it. "I WIN!" JJ laughed. "I said three days!" "It took seven!" "It still counts!"
Rossi reached into his wallet with a theatrical sigh. "I suppose I owe Garcia fifty dollars," Tara smirked. "I had a week."
Emily folded her arms with a grin. "I said they'd both realize it." "You also said they'd need a push," Rossi reminded her. "They did."
Luke blinked. "...Wait." Everyone froze. Luke slowly looked around the elevator. "...There's a betting pool?" Silence. Garcia gave an awkward smile. "...Maybe?" "You made bets..." Another pause. "...On my sister?"
"It was very respectful betting," Rossi offered. Luke stared. "...There's respectful betting?" "No," Tara admitted. "There really isn't."
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose before letting out a long, defeated sigh. "I work with children." Garcia gasped. "We are highly trained federal agents!" "You watched my sister's love life through a security camera." "...Fair."
Just then, the elevator doors finally opened. Luke marched into the lobby first. Y/N and Elias immediately stepped apart, though they were both smiling too much to be convincing.
Luke looked from one to the other. Then at the team. Then back again. Finally, he groaned. "I knew something was going on."
Garcia couldn't help herself. "So..." She held out her hand toward Rossi. "Pay up." The entire lobby erupted into laughter.
Luke shook his head, unable to stop smiling despite himself. "If either of you hurts the other..." he warned, pointing between Y/N and Elias, "...you answer to me." Elias nodded immediately. "Understood." Y/N rolled her eyes. "Lukey." "What?"
"You know I'm capable of defending myself." "I know." He smiled, pulling her into one last hug. "But it's in the big brother handbook that I have to say it." She laughed into his shoulder. "I love you." "Love you too, kid."
As she stepped back and slipped her hand into Elias's once more, Garcia quietly snapped a candid photo of the two of them standing side by side, completely unaware.
Later that night, she would send it to the team chat with one simple caption:
So first I want to thank you for always writing my ideas since I often have some 🙃🩶
So the reader is Lukes younger sister and comes to visit. They work at a case with Elias V. when she comes to the BAU. They somehow instanly click and the whole team is amused about it.
They make a bet how long it will take for them to admit their feelings, because his past is not easy.
I hope this is not too confusing 🫠
-💥-
Oh, it is no problem at all! Love writing, so don't worry about sending ideas over!
I will try my best to write this, might change it a little but yes I will work on it asap!
Summary: When the CBI team starts teasing Patrick Jane and Y/N L/N about their undeniable chemistry, Patrick finds himself spending more time making her laugh than solving cases. From playful arguments over tea and stolen fries to a disastrous charity gala and a cozy power outage at the office, their friendship slowly blossoms into something more. Filled with witty banter, quiet moments, and Patrick's trademark charm, this fluffy romance follows two people who discover that the happiest days are often the simplest ones—especially when they're spent together. 💘
If there was one thing the California Bureau of Investigation could agree on, it was this:
Patrick Jane was impossible.
He stole people's lunches. He wandered off in the middle of briefings. He ignored protocol with almost artistic dedication. And somehow... Y/N L/N was the only person who could keep up with him. Nobody knew how. Least of all, Patrick.
"You've got exactly four seconds." Patrick looked up from the couch in Lisbon's office without moving an inch. "Four seconds until what?"
Y/N stood over him, arms folded, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Until I drink your tea." Patrick sat upright so fast he nearly dropped his porcelain cup. "You wouldn't." "I absolutely would."
"It has honey in it." "I know." "You hate honey." "I hate waiting." Patrick narrowed his eyes. "You bluff."
Without another word, Y/N reached for the cup. Patrick yelped. Actually yelped. "Fine!" He scrambled off the couch. "I'm coming."
Lisbon watched him practically jog out of the office. She blinked. Then looked at Cho. "...Did she just make Patrick Jane hurry?"
Cho nodded once. "Yes." "I've been trying for five years." The secret wasn't complicated. Y/N had simply learned Patrick's language.
If she ordered him to do something... He'd ignore her. If she gave him a logical explanation... He'd find a loophole. If she threatened paperwork... He'd disappear. But threaten his tea? Immediate compliance.
The team found it endlessly entertaining.
🫖🫖🫖🫖
"How'd you figure him out?" Rigsby asked one afternoon. Y/N shrugged. "I watched him." "That's it?" "He acts like a giant cat." Everyone stared.
"You can't force a cat to do anything." Cho nodded thoughtfully. "Accurate." "You redirect it."
Patrick walked into the bullpen just in time to hear the last sentence. "I'd like everyone to know I resent being compared to a cat." Y/N smiled innocently. "So you're saying you don't knock things off desks because you're curious?"
"..." "You don't disappear whenever someone says 'paperwork?'" "..." "You don't insist on sleeping in sunny spots?" Patrick looked around hopefully. "Can someone help me?" Nobody did.
🫖🫖🫖🫖
Two weeks later... The CBI attended a charity gala. Naturally, Patrick hated every second of getting ready.
"Ties are tiny prisons." "They're fabric." "They're symbolic."
Y/N sighed as Patrick attempted—for the fourth time—to tie his tie into what resembled an elaborate knot sailors might use. "You've somehow made it worse." "I disagree." "You've created a new geometric shape." "It has character."
She laughed. "Come here." Patrick obediently stepped closer. "You always smell like tea." "It's my natural scent." "No."
She reached up and untangled the disaster he'd created.
"You spill tea on yourself at least twice a day." "It's part of my charm." "That's one word for it." Patrick watched her fingers expertly fix his tie. She was standing close enough that he could count the tiny flecks of colour in her eyes.
Close enough to notice the way she bit the inside of her cheek whenever she concentrated. Close enough to... "...You're staring." He blinked. "I am."
"You usually hide it better." "I got distracted." She smiled softly. "I'm aware."
🫖🫖🫖🫖
When they arrived at the gala, Lisbon immediately regretted bringing Patrick.
Within ten minutes...He had convinced a wealthy businessman he'd accidentally switched watches with another guest.
Started an argument between two politicians over poker. Won three hundred dollars in a charity auction without actually bidding. And somehow acquired a chocolate fountain skewer.
Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose. "Y/N." "Yes?" "Your boyfriend." "He isn't my—" "Go get him."
Patrick was standing by the dessert table explaining probability to an utterly confused socialite. Y/N walked over. "You've been unleashed for exactly twenty-two minutes." "I've been delightful." "You've started two minor incidents." "They'll become funny stories."
"You stole strawberries." "They were abandoned." "They were on someone's plate." "They looked lonely." She couldn't help laughing. Patrick grinned triumphantly. "There it is." "What?" "The laugh." "You caused it." "I know."
"It's dangerous that you're proud of that." "Oh, I'm exceptionally proud." As the evening continued, the ballroom orchestra began playing slower music.
Couples drifted toward the dance floor. Patrick watched them quietly. "You dance?" Y/N looked surprised. "A little." "Hm." "What does that mean?" "It means..." He offered his hand. "I'd like to see." She looked at his hand. Then at him. "You?" "I do know how."
"I've never seen evidence." "I contain multitudes." "You also tripped over a rug yesterday." "It attacked me." "The rug attacked you." "It came out of nowhere." She laughed again before placing her hand in his. "One dance." "Excellent."
Patrick Jane was, annoyingly... An incredible dancer. Of course he was. "You've done this before." "A few times." "A few?" "I may have attended events far fancier than this." "You continue to surprise me." "I try."
He guided her effortlessly across the floor. No tricks. No jokes. No pretending. Just...Patrick. "You know..." He said quietly. "I like this version of you."
She tilted her head. "What version?" "The one that laughs." "I laugh all the time." "Not like this." He smiled. "Not where it's completely genuine."
Her expression softened. "You notice that?" "I notice everything."
Across the room...Rigsby elbowed Cho. "They're dancing." "I can see." "They're definitely dating." "They're definitely not." "You sure?" Cho watched Patrick smile in a way he rarely smiled around anyone else. "...No."
🫖🫖🫖🫖
After the gala, the team stopped for late-night burgers. Patrick declared fries tasted better if stolen from someone else's plate. Y/N slapped his hand away before he could steal hers. "No." "Sharing is caring." "This is theft." "Borrowing." "You never return them." "They're digested."
Cho looked up from his food. "That's worse." When everyone finished eating, Lisbon went to pay. Only... The cashier smiled. "Oh." "The gentleman already covered everyone."
Lisbon frowned. "What gentleman?" The cashier pointed. Patrick was already halfway outside. Hands in his pockets. Whistling innocently. "You paid?" Patrick shrugged. "We had a successful case."
"You didn't have to." "I wanted to." "You paid for six people." "I can count." Y/N smiled. "You really are impossible." "I've heard that." "You know..." She bumped his shoulder. "...thank you."
Patrick looked sideways at her. "I like taking care of people." "You don't always let people take care of you." His smile became smaller. "...I'm learning."
🫖🫖🫖🫖
A few days later... Rain poured over Sacramento. The power flickered throughout the CBI building before disappearing entirely. The bullpen erupted into groans. "No computers?" "No lights?" "No coffee?"
Patrick looked positively delighted. "This is marvellous." Lisbon glared. "No." "It forces everyone to socialize." "I don't want to socialize."
Someone found an old deck of cards. Another agent produced board games from a forgotten cabinet.
Within minutes...The entire office had become strangely cozy. Rain tapped against the windows. Flashlights lit the room.
Patrick sat cross-legged on the floor teaching Y/N an obscure card game he'd learned decades ago. "You cheated." "I adapted." "You hid three cards." "I preserved options." She laughed.
"You are unbelievable." "I've been practicing."
🫖🫖🫖🫖
Hours passed. The rain never stopped. People drifted home one by one. Eventually... Only Patrick and Y/N remained. The emergency lights cast everything in soft amber. Quiet. Comfortable.
"You know..." Patrick said. "I don't actually mind power outages." "No?" "They remind people to slow down." She nodded. "I suppose they do."
"You spend your whole life rushing toward tomorrow." He looked out at the rain. "But sometimes..." He smiled softly. "...today's enough." Y/N studied him. Most people saw Patrick Jane as loud. Chaotic. Unpredictable.
She saw...The quiet moments. The thoughtful ones. The man who noticed lonely strangers. Who secretly paid restaurant bills. Who always remembered birthdays but pretended he forgot. Who smiled brightest when everyone around him was happy.
She reached over and nudged his shoulder. "You've gone all philosophical." "It happens occasionally." "I'm writing this down." "Please don't." "I'm framing it." "That's emotional blackmail."
The lights suddenly flickered back on. The office buzzed to life. Computers beeped. Phones rang. Everything became noisy again. Patrick sighed dramatically. "I liked the dark." "You only liked it because nobody could make you work." "That is a vicious accusation." "It's an accurate one."
He smiled. "Walk you to your car?" "You don't even have a car." "I'll walk back." "In the rain?" "I enjoy dramatic exits." "You really don't." "No." "I hate getting wet." She laughed. "I know."
🫖🫖🫖🫖
The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle. Streetlights reflected across the pavement. Neither of them hurried. "You know..." Patrick said after a comfortable silence. "I've had a wonderful day." "We worked." "Yes." "We questioned suspects." "Mhm." "You nearly got us thrown out of a gala."
"A minor misunderstanding." "You stole fries." "They were excellent." "And sat in the dark for three hours." Patrick smiled. "Exactly." She looked at him curiously. "That was a wonderful day?" "It was with you."
The words slipped out so naturally that neither of them realized what he'd said until the silence settled. Y/N looked up at him. Patrick blinked. "...Well." "Well?" "I appear to have accidentally confessed something."
She smiled so brightly it made his heart skip. "I was wondering how long that would take." "You knew?" "You once brought me coffee." "I've brought you coffee lots of times." "You remembered the exact way I liked it after I'd only mentioned it once." "...Oh."
"You also pretend not to like hugs." "I don't." "You absolutely do." "I tolerate specific hugs." "You leaned into the last one." "I was... off balance." She laughed. "There it is again." "What?" "My favourite sound."
The rain continued to fall softly around them. Patrick looked at her with that familiar warmth that always seemed to chase away the worst parts of the day. "So..." He asked. "Dinner tomorrow?" "We have work." "After work."
"We'll probably have another case." "After the case." "You really don't give up." "I've found it's generally a poor strategy."
She pretended to think about it for a moment before slipping her hand into his. "I suppose I can make time." Patrick looked down at their joined hands. Then back at her. His grin was so genuine, so boyish, that it made him look years younger.
For once, the great Patrick Jane had no clever observation, no trick, no witty comeback. Just quiet happiness. And somehow...
Summary: When local woodworker Y/N L/N visits Five-O to deliver a special handmade order for Chin and Kono, she catches the attention of Commander Steve McGarrett—not just because of her talent and warm personality, but because of her incredible bond with her diabetic alert service dog, Hoku. As Steve gets to know the woman behind the beautiful craftsmanship, he finds himself drawn to her kindness, strength, and the quiet way she brings light into his chaotic world. With a little help from a very smart black Labrador and some teasing from the Five-O team, Steve discovers that sometimes the best connections happen when you least expect them. 💘
The first thing Steve McGarrett noticed wasn't the woman. It was the dog.
A sleek black Labrador Retriever wearing a royal blue service dog harness padded calmly through the doors of Five-O headquarters. His glossy coat caught the Hawaiian sunlight streaming through the glass entrance, but his attention never strayed far from the woman walking beside him. Every few steps, he glanced up at her before calmly scanning the room again.
She balanced two large cardboard boxes against her hip with practiced ease, a pair of sunglasses perched on her head and a warm smile spreading across her face the moment she spotted familiar faces. "Aloha!"
Chin looked up from his desk and immediately grinned. "Y/N!" He crossed the room to take one of the boxes while Kono wrapped her in a quick hug. "You actually brought them yourself."
"I had another delivery in town," Y/N replied. "I figured I'd save you the shipping."
"And save us from forgetting to pick them up," Kono teased. "I was thinking the same thing," Y/N replied with a smile.
Steve finally wandered over from his office. "What'd you two order?" Kono carefully lifted the lid from one of the boxes.
Inside sat beautifully handcrafted koa wood desk plaques, each polished to a satin finish. Burned into the center was the Five-O emblem, surrounded by traditional Hawaiian-inspired carvings, with every team member's name and badge number engraved beneath.
Danny picked one up carefully. "...Okay." He turned it over in his hands. "I was expecting a mug." Steve couldn't help but smile. "These are incredible." He looked at Y/N. "You made these?" She nodded. "I own a small woodworking shop on the North Shore."
Steve traced one of the carved patterns with his thumb. "This is some impressive work." A faint blush crossed her cheeks. "Thank you. I've been doing it since I was a teenager."
The black Lab remained quietly at her side, sitting with perfect posture despite the excitement around him.
Danny crouched slightly. "Can I—" Y/N smiled apologetically before he could finish. "I'm sorry. Not while he's working."
Danny immediately stood again. "Right. My bad." Steve glanced at the blue harness. "Service dog?" She nodded. "This is Hoku."
Steve watched as Hoku briefly looked up at Y/N before settling his gaze back on the room. "What does he help you with?"
"I'm a Type One diabetic." She gently scratched behind Hoku's ears. "He's a diabetic alert dog. He can detect changes in my blood sugar before my continuous glucose monitor notices."
Danny blinked. "...You're kidding." She laughed softly. "I wish. Hoku alerts me when my blood sugar is dropping, reminds me to check my glucose, and if something serious happens, he can bring me my emergency kit."
Steve looked down at the Lab with genuine admiration. "That's amazing." She smiled. "He certainly thinks so." At the praise, Hoku's tail gave one slow wag before becoming perfectly still again. Steve chuckled. "He knows you're talking about him." "Oh, absolutely."
While Chin and Kono unpacked the plaques, Steve found himself lingering beside Y/N. "So... You've lived here your whole life?"
"Born and raised." She nodded toward Chin. "Our families have known each other forever." "And Kono?" "We grew up surfing together."
Steve smiled. "You still surf?" "When work lets me. What about you?" "I'm trying to convince Danny." Danny looked up immediately. "I heard that. I'm not drowning for your entertainment."
Steve smirked. "I'd save you." "I don't trust you enough." "You shouldn't." The room erupted in laughter.
🌺🌺🌺🌺
As Y/N explained the different woods she liked to work with, Hoku suddenly stood. Without making a sound, he nudged her hand once. Then again. She paused mid-sentence. "Oh."
Steve noticed how quickly her expression shifted from conversational to focused.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, opening the glucose monitor app. "...Sixty-nine." Steve frowned. "Is that low?" "Getting there." There wasn't a trace of panic in her voice.
She simply unzipped a small pouch attached to Hoku's harness and pulled out a juice box. Danny stared. "...Your dog carries snacks?" Y/N laughed. "For me."
Hoku sat proudly beside her as she took several sips. Steve couldn't take his eyes off the dog. "He knew before your monitor?" She nodded. "Usually ten or fifteen minutes before. My endocrinologist says his accuracy is honestly incredible."
Steve shook his head in amazement. "So he basically just...Smells chemistry." "Exactly."
Danny looked at Hoku. "I suddenly feel underqualified at my job." Everyone laughed.
A few minutes later, Y/N checked her monitor again. "Eighty-four." She smiled down at Hoku. "Good job, buddy." Hoku leaned lightly against her leg for a second before returning to his perfect sit.
Steve smiled. "I think that's one of the coolest things I've ever seen."
🌺🌺🌺🌺
Nearly an hour later, Y/N folded the empty boxes.
"I should let you all get back to work." Steve spoke before he could talk himself out of it. "I'll walk you out."
Danny's grin appeared instantly. "Oh?" Steve ignored him.
Outside, Honolulu's warm breeze carried the scent of saltwater across the parking lot.
Hoku walked neatly beside Y/N without pulling once.
Steve noticed they moved together effortlessly, almost like they could read each other's minds. "You really made every one of those plaques?" "Every single one. They take forever. But seeing people's reactions makes it worth it."
Steve smiled. "I don't think anyone's going to stop talking about them." "I'll take that as a compliment." "You should."
They reached her pickup truck. Steve leaned casually against the passenger door. "So...I've got a question." "Shoot." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you maybe want to grab lunch sometime?"
She smiled almost immediately. "I'd love to." Steve blinked. "Really?" "Were you expecting me to say no?"
"I've honestly been shot at more times than I've asked someone out." She laughed so hard she had to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "Steve McGarrett...That might be the funniest thing I've heard all week."
"I wasn't trying to be funny." "I know. That's what makes it better."
Before climbing into her truck, Hoku gently nudged her hand again. She checked her monitor. "Ninety-two." She smiled. "Looks like the juice did its job."
Steve looked down at the Lab. "So he checks afterward too?" "He likes confirmation that everything's okay." Steve crouched slightly. "You take your job pretty seriously, huh?" Hoku looked at him with calm brown eyes. After a moment, his tail gave one deliberate wag.
"I think he approves of you," Y/N said. "I'm honoured." She opened the driver's door. "So...When?" Steve looked confused. "Hm?" "Lunch." "Oh." He laughed. "Right." "Friday?"
"Friday works." "You pick the place."
"I know a shrimp truck that'll ruin all other shrimp for you." "I'm sold."
🌺🌺🌺🌺
As her truck disappeared down the road, Danny appeared beside Steve carrying two coffees. "So." Steve accepted one. "So." "You got her number?" Steve froze. "...No."
Danny stared. "You asked her out." "Yeah." "She said yes?" "Yeah." "And you never got her phone number?" Steve sighed. "...I forgot."
Danny looked toward the ceiling. "I cannot believe this. The man who dismantled a terrorist cell...forgot the phone number."
Steve shrugged helplessly. "I'll ask Chin." Danny groaned. "Of course you will."
🌺🌺🌺🌺
Friday afternoon arrived under clear blue skies.
Steve pulled into the parking lot of Y/N's workshop on the North Shore. The scent of freshly cut koa wood drifted through the open doors.
When she stepped outside, Hoku was right beside her. Steve opened the back door of the truck without saying a word. Hoku hopped in and settled down immediately.
"You remembered." Steve smiled. "He rides with you." "He always does." "And he's still working." "Always."
🌺🌺🌺🌺
Lunch by the beach turned into an afternoon walking barefoot along the shoreline.
They talked about everything—Steve's years in the Navy, her woodworking business, Chin and Kono's childhood antics, Danny's dramatic personality, and the best places to watch the sunset on Oʻahu.
At one point, Hoku looked up at Y/N before giving her hand a gentle nudge.
She checked her monitor. "Ninety-eight." She laughed. "False alarm." Steve smiled at the dog. "Just making sure."
"He likes to double-check." "Can't argue with that."
Eventually, they found a piece of driftwood overlooking the ocean.
Hoku stretched out in the sand between them, resting his head comfortably across Steve's boot. Steve looked down at the Lab before glancing over at Y/N. "You know..." "What?"
"I thought Hoku was going to be the most interesting part of today." She raised an eyebrow. "And?" He smiled. "I was wrong." A soft blush spread across her cheeks.
"I've spent years explaining diabetes to people. You didn't interrupt me. You didn't pity me. You were just... curious."
Steve shrugged. "It seemed more important to get to know you."
For a moment, all she could hear were the waves rolling onto the shore. Then she smiled. "I'd really like a second date." Steve couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Between them, Hoku let out a contented sigh, closed his eyes, and rested his head across both of their feet—as if he'd already decided Steve McGarrett wasn't just someone worth trusting.
Summary: Known only as "The Queen," Y/N L/N is the brilliant leader of a powerful criminal empire that has stayed one step ahead of SWAT for years. When a rival organization turns against her, she's forced to work with 20-Squad to bring them down. As she fights to leave her criminal past behind, an unexpected connection with Deacon grows into something neither of them saw coming. With his support, Y/N chooses redemption over power, trading her empire for a second chance at the life—and love—she never thought she deserved.❤️🔥💘
Thank you, Anon 💥, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
"Every kingpin has a weakness."
For years, Los Angeles had whispered about The Queen.
Nobody knew her real name. Nobody knew her face. Only that wherever money disappeared, weapons changed hands, or powerful people suddenly lost everything...
The Queen had been there first. She didn't deal drugs. She didn't traffic people. She didn't kill unless there was absolutely no other option.
She built an empire by stealing from criminals, laundering dirty money through legitimate businesses, and blackmailing men who believed they were untouchable.
She had rules. And everyone followed them. Or else.
Twenty-Squad had spent eighteen months trying to identify her. They had nothing. No fingerprints. No DNA. No reliable witnesses.
Only one blurry security photo of a woman disappearing into the night wearing a white suit and a black masquerade mask.
Street called her a ghost. Tan called her a strategist. Hicks called her the biggest loose end in Los Angeles. Deacon simply called her... "A problem."
🂽🂽🂽🂽
Three months later.
The Queen walked into a charity gala wearing a midnight-blue gown and diamonds worth more than most houses in the city.
No one looked twice. Why would they? Tonight she wasn't a criminal mastermind.
Tonight...She was Y/N L/N. CEO. Investor. Philanthropist.
A woman who donated millions to children's hospitals and youth programs every year.
The irony always made her smile.
The money she gave away had originally belonged to cartel bosses, corrupt politicians, and international smugglers.
She slept just fine at night. Until she noticed him. Across the ballroom. Standing beside Commander Hicks. Sergeant David "Deacon" Kay. Even in a tuxedo, he looked like a cop.
Too observant. Too disciplined. Too honest.
He scanned exits instead of artwork. Watched hands instead of faces.
And somehow... His eyes landed directly on hers. For just a second. Neither looked away. "Ms. L/N?"
She smiled at the senator speaking beside her. "My apologies." "You looked distracted." "Just admiring the security." Her gaze drifted back toward Deacon. "He has very good instincts."
Deacon couldn't explain it. Something about her bothered him. She smiled too easily. She never looked surprised. She knew exactly where every entrance and exit was.
Most people saw a wealthy businesswoman. He saw someone constantly assessing threats. Someone trained. Someone dangerous.
"You're staring." Street appeared beside him holding two glasses of sparkling water. "I've seen her before." "Rich people all look the same." "No." Deacon frowned. "There's something familiar."
Y/N caught him watching again. Interesting. Most officers looked at her with suspicion. He looked... Curious. That was far more dangerous.
🂽🂽🂽🂽
The mission changed three days later. An arms deal. Abandoned shipping yard. Midnight.
SWAT moved in, expecting to catch one of the city's biggest trafficking networks. Instead... They found every criminal tied to the deal zip-tied together.
Twenty-three illegal weapons were seized. Eight million dollars stacked neatly in military duffel bags. One note. "You're welcome." Signed only with a queen chess piece.
Street groaned. "She's mocking us." Hicks looked at the recovered weapons. "Or helping."
🂽🂽🂽🂽
For weeks, the pattern continued. Every time Twenty-Squad got close to a major criminal operation... The Queen had already dismantled it.
She never took innocent lives. She never targeted civilians. She only destroyed people who preyed on others.
It didn't make her innocent. But it made her... Complicated.
🂽🂽🂽🂽
Then everything went wrong. A rival organization put a fifty-million-dollar bounty on The Queen's head.
Suddenly...Every assassin on the West Coast wanted one woman. Y/N's carefully built empire collapsed overnight.
Safe houses burned. Trusted allies disappeared. People she'd known for years betrayed her. She'd spent years controlling the board.
Now...She was the piece being hunted.
🂽🂽🂽🂽
The first bullet barely missed her. The second shattered the windshield of her Aston Martin. She abandoned the car before it rolled into a concrete barrier.
By instinct, she reached for the only place her enemies would never expect her to go. SWAT Headquarters.
The bullpen fell silent. Street looked up first. "...Uh..."
Y/N stood in the entrance. Designer suit torn. Blood running down one sleeve. A pistol empty of ammunition still clenutched in her hand.
Every officer reached for their weapon. Except Deacon. He stepped forward first. "What happened?" She looked directly at him.
"I need your help." Hondo frowned. "You expect us to protect a criminal?" "I expect you to protect Los Angeles." She tossed a flash drive across the room. Tan caught it.
Inside were names. Bank accounts. Warehouse locations. Every major criminal organization operating in Southern California. Enough evidence to dismantle them all.
"If I die..." She met Hondo's eyes. "They disappear with me."
🂽🂽🂽🂽
The next month became the strangest partnership Twenty-Squad had ever experienced.
Y/N knew every criminal they were chasing. Every hiding place. Every escape route. Every corrupt official. She wasn't proud of it.
But she refused to let the people she'd once worked beside keep hurting innocent families.
Late one evening, Deacon found her sitting alone on the headquarters roof. "You can't sleep either?" She smiled faintly. "I forgot what quiet sounded like."
He sat beside her. "You've saved a lot of lives." "I've ruined plenty too." Silence settled between them. "I don't deserve a second chance."
Deacon looked out across the city lights. "I've learned something over the years." "What?" "The worst thing someone has ever done..." He glanced toward her. "...doesn't always have to be the last thing they do."
For the first time in years... Y/N cried. Not because she was afraid. Because someone finally saw the person she'd been trying to become instead of the one she'd once been.
🂽🂽🂽🂽
The final assault came at dawn. Gunfire echoed through downtown. The syndicate attacked before SWAT could move their witness.
Explosions rocked the building. Smoke swallowed the hallways.
"Move! Move!" Deacon grabbed Y/N's hand as they raced toward the stairwell. A gunman appeared on the landing. Y/N reacted first. One precise strike. Weapon down.
Another attacker rushed them. Deacon tackled him through a glass partition. More gunfire. More shouting.
Until finally...Silence.
The last member of the syndicate was in custody.
🂽🂽🂽🂽
Months later...The newspapers called it the largest organized crime takedown in California history.
The Queen disappeared. Officially. Legally.
Y/N accepted a plea agreement in exchange for her cooperation, testimony, and assistance dismantling the criminal network she'd built. She served her sentence, fulfilled every condition, and afterward quietly disappeared from the headlines.
She opened a nonprofit that helped young people leave gangs and criminal organizations before they reached the point of no return.
One afternoon, Deacon found her painting a mural with a group of teenagers. She looked up. "You're late." "I had paperwork."
She laughed. "Still using that excuse?" He smiled. "I'll probably use it forever." She walked over, paint on her cheek. He brushed it away gently with his thumb. "You know..."
She looked up at him. "I never imagined my happy ending would involve paperwork and community meetings."
He chuckled. "I never imagined mine would involve falling for the woman I spent eighteen months trying to arrest."
She stepped closer, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "So..." "Yeah?" "If you'd caught me back then..." "I would've done my job." "And now?"
He slipped an arm around her waist. "Now I'd rather walk beside you than chase you."
She rose onto her toes and kissed him softly, lingering just long enough to make him smile when they parted.
Behind them, Street drove past with Tan in the passenger seat. Street slowed the truck. "...Is that—" Tan looked once. "It is." Street grinned. "You owe me fifty bucks." "I do."
"What was the bet?" "That they'd figure it out before retirement." Street laughed as they drove away.
Some stories ended with an arrest. Some ended with redemption. And sometimes...
The woman everyone once called The Queen found something she'd never been able to steal.
Summary: Y/N L/N and Deacon Kay have been butting heads since the day she transferred to 20-Squad. They're both exceptional operators, equally stubborn, and constantly trying to outdo one another, making every briefing a battlefield. Fed up with their undeniable chemistry disguised as arguments, Hicks and the team assign them to an undercover operation as a wealthy married couple. Sharing a luxurious beach house, attending exclusive parties, and convincing dangerous criminals they're deeply in love forces them closer than either is prepared for. As fake kisses become real, jealous glances become impossible to hide, and every argument ends with them standing inches apart, the line between pretending and reality disappears—right when the mission turns deadly.💘❤️🔥
Thank you, Anon 💥, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
The first time Y/N L/N called Deacon Kay "insufferable," she'd been on the team for exactly six hours.
The first time Deacon called her "reckless," she'd thrown a flashbang through a second-story window and ended the operation in under thirty seconds.
She'd been right. He hated that she'd been right. Since then? It was constant.
🏡🏡🏡🏡
"That's not the plan." Y/N didn't even look up from cleaning her rifle. "It is now." Deacon folded his arms. "You don't get to rewrite the briefing." "I get to adapt."
"You improvise too much." "You overthink everything." "I think." "You overthink."
Street slowly backed away from the argument. "Nope." Chris grabbed her coffee. "I'm not getting involved." Tan looked at Hondo. "Five bucks says Deacon raises his voice first."
"I heard that." "Then stop proving me right."
🏡🏡🏡🏡
Nobody understood why they argued so much.
Except...Everybody did.
Because every time one of them walked into a room, the other's eyes found them first.
Without warning—Y/N reached up, grabbed Deacon by the tie, and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn't long. Just enough. Just convincing enough.
When she finally pulled away, she smiled sweetly. "He tells the airport story when he's nervous." The table erupted with laughter. The suspect nodded. "Now that looked believable."
The second they were alone...Deacon stared at her. "You kissed me." "You were blowing our cover." "You could've kicked me under the table."
"I panicked." "You panicked?" "I improvised." He laughed. "I hate when you're right." "I know."
🏡🏡🏡🏡
As the days passed... The pretending became easier. Too easy.
His hand naturally found the small of her back. She leaned against him without thinking. They finished each other's stories. Shared inside jokes. Cooked dinner together.
One evening, while dancing at another gala to maintain their cover, Y/N rested her head against his shoulder. "This is getting dangerous." He looked down. "The mission?" "No."
She met his eyes. "Us." Neither looked away.
🏡🏡🏡🏡
The mission unravelled the next night. Their cover was blown.
Gunfire erupted inside the mansion. Glass exploded. Guests screamed. "Move!" SWAT stormed through every entrance.
Deacon spotted Y/N chasing one of the suspects toward the marina. "L/N!" "I'm good!"
The suspect turned suddenly, grabbing Y/N and dragging her against him. A pistol pressed against her ribs. "No closer!"
Everything stopped. Deacon lowered his rifle. His jaw clenched. The suspect smirked. "You care about her."
"No." The answer came too fast. Too sharp. Too obvious. Y/N caught it immediately. The suspect laughed. "I don't believe you." Y/N acted first.
She slammed the heel of her boot down onto the suspect's foot, twisted free, and drove her elbow into his jaw.
The gun fired harmlessly into the dock. Deacon was on him a heartbeat later. The fight was brutal. Messy. Personal.
When it was over, the suspect lay unconscious.
🏡🏡🏡🏡
Hours later... The adrenaline still hadn't faded. They stood alone on the empty beach behind the safe house. Neither spoke.
Finally— "You scared me." Deacon's voice was almost a whisper. She looked at him. "I know."
"I've watched teammates get hurt." He stepped closer. "I've never felt like that." She swallowed. "You yelled my name." "I thought I lost you."
Silence. Ocean waves crashed behind them. She reached for his hand. Instead, he caught her wrist gently. Their faces were inches apart.
"So tell me something." She whispered. "What?" "Are we still pretending?" His answer came without words.
He closed the distance, kissing her slowly—no audience, no suspects, no cover to maintain. Just weeks of frustration, longing, and everything they'd never admitted.
When they finally pulled apart, both were smiling. "So..." she murmured. "We're definitely going to have to tell the team." He laughed. "They already know."
Inside the command vehicle, Street lowered a pair of binoculars. "Told you," Chris smirked. "Took them long enough."
Hondo folded his arms, unable to hide his smile. "They earned it."
Even Hicks, watching from the mobile command center, shook his head with quiet amusement. "About time."
Summary: When Y/N Carmichael, Nichelle Carmichael's younger sister, comes to Los Angeles for what is supposed to be a two-week visit, she hopes to finally relax after moving away from a toxic relationship. But it quickly becomes apparent that her ex-boyfriend has followed her across state lines.💘💔
Thank you, Anon 💥, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
"You packed enough for two weeks?" Nichelle Carmichael leaned against the kitchen island, watching her younger sister struggle with an overstuffed suitcase.
Y/N Carmichael rolled her eyes. "I packed enough for options." "You packed your entire apartment." "I like options." Nichelle laughed, walking over to pull her sister into a hug.
It had been almost a year since they'd last seen each other in person. Video calls were one thing. Actually, having Y/N standing in her kitchen again was another.
"I've missed you." "I've missed you too." Y/N smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Nichelle noticed immediately. She always did. "You okay?" "I'm fine."
"The famous Carmichael lie." "I'm serious." "You've been serious since you walked through the door." Y/N busied herself unpacking instead of answering. Nichelle decided not to push. Yet.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
The next morning, Nichelle convinced her to stop by SWAT Headquarters. "You've heard me talk about everyone for years."
"I feel like I already know them." "You kind of do." As they stepped inside, Street looked up first. "Nichelle!"
He waved before noticing the woman beside her. "Oh..." Nichelle grinned. "Everyone, this is my little sister."
Y/N smiled politely. "Y/N Carmichael." Within seconds, introductions flew around the room. Tan offered a handshake. Chris hugged her.
Luca immediately asked if she wanted coffee. Hondo gave her his well-known hug. Then came Deacon. "David Kay." She shook his hand.
"Nice to finally meet the guy my sister keeps saying is the responsible one."
Street burst out laughing. "I've been saying that for years!" Deacon smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Something about his calm demeanour immediately put Y/N at ease.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
Over the next week, Y/N became a familiar face around HQ. She'd stop by to grab lunch with Nichelle. Bring homemade muffins because she'd "made too many." Help Luca figure out why his phone wasn't syncing.
Beat Street at darts. Twice. By Friday, everyone acted like she'd always been there. Especially Deacon.
They discovered they both loved hiking. Both preferred quiet mornings over busy nights. Both had a habit of putting everyone else first.
"You know," Chris whispered one afternoon. "They're adorable." Street looked over. "They're not even dating." "They don't have to be."
The first sign that something was wrong came after lunch. Y/N froze outside headquarters. Across the street...
A silver SUV. The driver wore sunglasses. Hands resting on the steering wheel. Watching. Only watching. "You okay?" Deacon's voice made her jump.
She looked again. The SUV was gone. "...Yeah." But her smile had disappeared.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
That night, Nichelle found Y/N checking every window before locking it. "...Talk to me." Y/N hesitated. Then quietly admitted,
"I think I saw Ethan." Nichelle frowned. "Ethan?" "My ex." "I thought he lived in San Diego." "He does." "So why would he be here?" "I..."
Y/N looked away. "I don't know."
✖️✖️✖️✖️
Three days later, flowers appeared on Hondo & Nichelle's porch. No name. No card. Just white lilies. Y/N went pale. Nichelle noticed immediately. "What?"
"He used to leave those." The sisters stared at the bouquet. Then Y/N spotted something tucked beneath it. A photograph. Taken that morning. Of her and Nichelle leaving a café.
Someone had been close enough to photograph them. Neither had noticed. Nichelle immediately picked up her phone. "I'm calling Hondo."
Within twenty minutes, SWAT Headquarters had become an unofficial command center.
Hondo spread the photo across the conference table. "When exactly did this relationship end?" "Almost a year ago." "Reason?" "He became..." Y/N searched for the right word. "...obsessive."
She explained how Ethan had tracked her location. Shown up outside work. Sent hundreds of messages. Quit jobs just to work near her. Moved apartments after she moved. She'd reported him. Nothing stuck.
"He always stopped before crossing the legal line." Until now. Because following her to Los Angeles... Photographing her... Leaving gifts... That changed everything.
Deacon sat quietly through the briefing, his jaw tightening with every new detail.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
By the end, one thought echoed louder than anything else. She's been living with this fear for a year.
The investigation moved quickly. Street traced vehicle registrations. Tan reviewed traffic cameras. Chris interviewed Ethan's former coworkers. Luca dug through old police reports.
The deeper they looked... The worst it became. There were two previous girlfriends. Both had filed complaints. Both had eventually moved states. Neither knew about the other.
"He escalates after rejection," Tan concluded. "He doesn't let go." That evening, Deacon volunteered to come along with Hondo to drive them home. "You don't have to." "I know."
He checked every mirror as they drove. Every intersection. Every parked car. Y/N noticed. "You've looked behind us six times." "Seven."
She smiled despite herself. "You counted?" "I always count." She looked out the window. "...Thank you." "For what?" "For making me feel like I'm not crazy." He glanced over briefly. "You were never crazy." Those four words hit harder than either of them expected.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
Because for months... Everyone else had questioned whether she was overreacting. Deacon never did. He simply believed her.
And that, more than anything else, made her feel safe for the first time in a very long while.
Summary: Inspired by "Die With A Smile" by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars 💔💘.
Patrick Jane had always believed there was time. Time to solve another case. Time to catch another killer. Time to make another joke just to annoy Lisbon. Time to tell you. He just... never did.
The California sky was stained gold as the CBI team closed another case.
Rigsby and Cho were already arguing over who owed dinner. Lisbon rubbed the bridge of her nose, muttering something about paperwork. And you...
You stood beside Patrick, hands tucked into your jacket pockets as the wind carried strands of your hair across your face.
"You know," Patrick said lazily, sipping tea from a paper cup he'd somehow convinced a witness to give him, "you're smiling." "I solved the case." "No." He tilted his head.
"You're smiling because you stole my blanket from the office couch during lunch." "I borrowed it." "You kidnapped it." "It looked lonely." "It was with me." "It deserved better." Patrick laughed. A genuine one. The kind that reached his eyes. You smiled wider.
For a moment...Everything felt normal.
🪄🪄🪄🪄
You had joined the CBI two years earlier. Former military intelligence. Brilliant profiler. Quiet. Patient. The exact opposite of Patrick Jane. Where he barged into minds with charm and manipulation... You knocked first.
Somehow...It worked. People trusted both of you. Different methods. Same results.
Lisbon had once sighed dramatically and called you "the two biggest headaches California has ever produced."
You'd taken it as a compliment.
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Somewhere along the way...Patrick fell in love. It happened so gradually that he never noticed.
It was in the way you quietly handed him another cup of tea before he realized his had gone cold.
The way you remembered he hated fluorescent lights and always claimed the desk by the window for him.
The way you laughed at his terrible card tricks...Even though you'd figured them out months ago.
You saw him. Not the famous psychic. Not Red John's obsession. Not the broken widower. Just...Patrick. And that terrified him.
Because the last person he'd loved...Had been taken away.
"You should tell her." Cho didn't even look up from his paperwork. Patrick blinked. "Tell who what?" Cho raised one eyebrow. "You're not subtle." "I am incredibly subtle." "You stared at her for seven minutes." "I was thinking." "You smiled." "..."
Cho finally looked at him. "You only smile like that around her." Patrick sighed. "I don't think I can." Cho nodded once. "I know."
🪄🪄🪄🪄
You weren't blind. Patrick looked at you differently.
Sometimes he'd stop talking halfway through a sentence because he was watching you instead.
Sometimes your hands brushed while passing files... Neither of you pulled away immediately.
Lisbon noticed. Of course, she noticed. "You two are exhausting." You looked up from your report. "What did we do?" "You've been in love with each other for almost a year."
You nearly dropped your coffee. "...Excuse me?" She blinked. "Oh." She actually looked surprised. "You didn't know?"
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Life didn't wait for confessions. The explosion happened three weeks later. The abandoned warehouse had looked empty. It wasn't.
The bomb had been hidden beneath the floorboards. Cho spotted the wiring first. "Jane—"
Boom.
The world disappeared into heat. Metal screamed. Concrete shattered. Everything became smoke. Patrick couldn't hear. He couldn't breathe. His ears rang.
Someone was shouting. Someone... You. He turned. And his heart stopped. You were trapped beneath a collapsed beam.
Blood stained your sleeve. Your breathing came in short, painful gasps. Patrick stumbled toward you before anyone could stop him.
"No." His voice cracked. "No, no, no..." You looked at him. Still smiling. "...Hey." "No." "I've... definitely had better days."
He dropped beside you. Hands shaking. Trying to lift the beam. It didn't move. "Cho!" "EMS is coming!" Patrick ignored everyone.
He grabbed your hand instead. It was cold. Far too cold. "You'll be okay." You smiled weakly. "You're a terrible liar." "I'm exceptional." "You've told me... twenty-three lies this week."
"You counted?" "I always count." A laugh escaped you. It turned into coughing. Blood. Patrick felt his entire world tilt.
"I never..." he whispered. You frowned. "What?" "I never told you." Your fingers squeezed his. "You don't have to."
"Yes." His eyes filled. "I do." The words he'd buried for months... Years... Finally escaped.
"I love you."
Silence. Only distant sirens. Only fire. Only your breathing. Then... You smiled. The same smile. The one he'd fallen in love with. "I know."
He blinked. "You..." "I've known for months." "...Why didn't you say anything?"
Your laugh was tiny. "Because I thought... You weren't ready." Patrick laughed through tears. "You really are smarter than me." "I know."
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Sirens grew louder. Rescue crews rushed inside. Someone shouted. "They're alive!" Another voice— "We need hydraulic equipment!"
Patrick ignored them. He stayed with you. Holding your hand. "You know..." You whispered. "If this..." He immediately shook his head. "No." "If." "..."
"I don't want you to spend the rest of your life being sad." "I'm already sad." "You'll survive." "I don't want to." "You will."
Your thumb brushed across his knuckles. "And when you're old..." "..." "...I want you to remember that someone loved every broken piece of you."
Patrick broke. Completely. "You deserved so much more than me." You smiled. "No." "I deserved exactly you."
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Hours later...Doctors said it was a miracle. Collapsed lung. Broken ribs. Internal bleeding. But alive. Barely. Alive.
Recovery took months. Patrick practically moved into your hospital room. He annoyed every nurse. Cheated at cards with elderly patients. Read mystery novels aloud. Stole pudding cups. "You know that's theft."
"It's borrowing." "You literally ate it." "It can never accuse me." "You are unbelievable." "So I've been told."
🪄🪄🪄🪄
One evening...The rain tapped softly against the hospital windows. You couldn't sleep. Patrick sat beside your bed. Watching the storm. Quietly. "I almost lost you." "I know." "I can't..." He swallowed. "I can't waste another second pretending."
You reached for his hand. He met you halfway. "You don't have to." "I love you." "I love you too." Simple. Soft. Completely honest.
The team pretended to be surprised. Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Finally." Cho nodded once. "Took long enough." Rigsby grinned. "I won fifty bucks." Van Pelt looked horrified. "You were betting on them?" "Absolutely."
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Life settled. Cases continued. Murders still happened. Patrick still ignored protocol. You still stole his blanket. Some things never changed. Others changed forever.
Now...He reached for your hand every chance he got. Not secretly. Not nervously. Openly.
Because he'd learned something beneath that collapsing warehouse. Tomorrow wasn't promised.
🪄🪄🪄🪄
Months later...After another exhausting case...
The two of you sat on the hood of Lisbon's borrowed car overlooking the ocean. The sunset painted the sky pink and orange. Patrick leaned his head against yours. "You know..." "What?" "If the world ended tonight..." You looked toward him. "Hm?"
He smiled. "I think I'd be okay." You laughed. "That's oddly optimistic." "Because I'd be with you." Silence. Comfortable. Warm.
The waves rolled endlessly below. "You remember that song you made me listen to?" "The one you claimed was too sentimental?" "I never said too sentimental." "You absolutely did." "I merely implied it." You nudged him with your shoulder. "So?"
He looked toward the horizon. "'If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you.'" His fingers intertwined with yours. "I finally understand it." You rested your head against him. "We're all going to die someday."
Patrick nodded. "I know. But if I get to spend whatever time I have loving you..." He kissed your forehead. "...then whenever that day comes..." He smiled. "I think I can die with one too."
You looked up at him, eyes shining in the fading light. "Only after we've grown old, argued over blankets for another forty years, and you've finally admitted I let you win at cards."
Patrick gasped dramatically. "I have never lost a fair game in my life." "You've never played a fair game in your life." He laughed, that bright, carefree laugh you had fought so hard to bring back into the world.
The sun slipped beneath the horizon, leaving only the glow of twilight and the sound of the sea. For the first time since losing his family, Patrick Jane wasn't haunted by what tomorrow might take away. He was grateful for what today had given him. Because love wasn't measured by how long it lasted.
It was measured by the moments that made life worth living. And if the end ever came... As long as he was holding your hand—He knew he'd meet it with a smile.
Thank you, I am re-watching the show, now I got ideas 😅
So I like the reader end twenty/thirty and darker skin :)
I have 4 ideas, but please no stress ✨️
- The reader is an exotic dancer and her club gets involved in a crime. She becomes an informant and everybody likes her, Deacon more than the others.
- The reader is Nichelles sister and visits her. It becomes clear she has an creepy ex who follows her. The squad helps and Deacon gets really protective because of his feelings.
- The reader is a member of the team and she often argues with Deacon. Deep down they both feel more, so the whole team and Hicks decide to put them undercover together. Maybe with 🔥 is the end.
- The reader is the leader of a criminal ring herself. She gets involved with the SWAT team and falls in love with Deacon. She leaves the criminal life and starts a new life.
Thank you for reading all my ideas and have a sunny day ✨️
-💥-
Good morning Anon 💥! Of courseee! I love these ideas, may have been working on them before I replied, so I hope you are ready!
Thank you for sending these in! I hope you have a sunny day too! Right now, the sky for me is giving off this orange light vibe, both scary and pretty!
Summary: After a deadly crime unfolds at the club where Y/N L/N works as an exotic dancer, she becomes SWAT's key informant and target of a dangerous criminal organization. While under the team's protection, her courage and kindness quickly win everyone over—especially Deacon. As the case intensifies, so do their feelings, leading to a hard-earned happy ending once the criminals are brought to justice.💘💔
Thank you, Anon 💥, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
The Velvet Room was known for its bright lights, expensive drinks, and wealthy clientele.
It was also where criminals liked to talk. People assumed the music drowned out conversations.
They assumed the dancers didn't listen. They assumed they weren't paying attention.
Y/N L/N had learned years ago that people underestimated women in her line of work.
She let them. It kept her alive.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Friday night had started like any other. Music pounded through the speakers. Servers weaved between tables.
The dancers performed beneath flashing lights while businessmen, celebrities, and men with too much money watched from velvet booths.
Y/N wasn't paying attention to them. She was watching Booth #7. Four men. One duffel bag. No drinks. No smiles. Just business.
She caught fragments of conversation as she passed. "...shipment..." "...Tuesday..." "...dock forty-three..." "...no witnesses."
Then one of the men pulled out a folder. Inside— Photographs. Police officers. Judges. A district attorney.
Y/N's smile never faltered as she continued walking. Inside, every alarm bell she had was screaming.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
An hour later... A gunshot echoed through the club. Screams erupted. Patrons dove beneath tables.
One of the men from Booth #7 lay bleeding across the floor. Another grabbed the duffel bag. "Move!" Three armed men stormed toward the back exit.
Y/N ducked behind the bar just as bullets shattered shelves of expensive liquor.
Glass exploded around her. Someone grabbed her wrist. "Come on!" It was the bartender. Together they sprinted through the kitchen.
Another shot. Another scream. Then silence.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Twenty minutes later... Blue and red lights painted the nightclub. SWAT. LAPD. Detectives. Paramedics.
Deacon stepped carefully through the crime scene, his expression hardening as he took in the destruction.
"What do we have?" "Execution," Tan answered. "Professional." Chris pointed toward the bar. "We've got one witness."
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Y/N sat wrapped in a blanket despite the warm night. There was dried blood on her cheek that wasn't hers. She stared blankly at the flashing lights.
Deacon approached carefully. "I'm Sergeant David Kay." She looked up. "I know." "You do?" "I've seen you on the news."
He offered a small smile. "I'm going to ask a few questions." She nodded. "I'll answer."
🪩🪩🪩🪩
She told them everything. The meeting. The duffel bag. The names she'd overheard. The docks. The photographs. Every tiny detail.
Street whistled quietly. "She remembers everything." Y/N shrugged. "I've had to." Deacon frowned. "What does that mean?"
She hesitated. "People think dancers don't notice things." Her voice stayed calm. "But when men think you're invisible...They tell you everything."
The room fell silent. Hondo exchanged a look with Hicks. She wasn't just a witness. She was valuable. Very valuable.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
By sunrise, someone had already tried to kill her.
The sniper's bullet shattered the interrogation room window seconds after she'd stepped away.
"DOWN!" Deacon tackled her to the floor. Glass rained over both of them. The bullet buried itself in the opposite wall.
"Officer down!" someone yelled. "Find that shooter!" Outside, SWAT vehicles roared into motion. The hunt was on.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
"They know she talked." Hicks didn't sugarcoat it. "They'll keep coming."
Safe houses became routine. Different apartment every night. Different vehicle. Different route. Y/N never complained.
She'd accepted her life wasn't going back to normal. Not yet.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
The first attack came on the freeway.
An SUV slammed into their convoy. "They're trying to box us in!" Tan jerked the wheel.
Automatic gunfire erupted. Bullets ripped through traffic. "Civilians!"
Street leaned from the passenger window, returning controlled fire.
The attackers peeled away. Only to be met by Luca's BearCat charging through the intersection.
The collision sent one SUV rolling three times.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Attack number two happened at the safe house. The lights died. Then came explosions. Flashbangs. Smoke.
"They're inside!" Deacon grabbed Y/N's arm. "Stay behind me." She didn't freeze. She moved.
Years of surviving dangerous customers had taught her one thing— When chaos starts...Move.
She kicked a gun out of an attacker's hand. Deacon finished the takedown. "You okay?" She nodded. "Breathe later."
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Days blurred together.
Despite everything... Friendship formed. Street discovered Y/N loved motorcycles. Tan taught her basic defensive shooting. Luca challenged her to arcade basketball. She demolished her. Twice.
Chris declared she officially belonged with them after she beat her at poker.
Even Hicks cracked a smile when Y/N started bringing homemade cookies to briefings.
"You baked?" Y/N smiled. "My grandmother's recipe." Street took one bite. "Oh, we're keeping her."
🪩🪩🪩🪩
Deacon noticed the little things. How she always thanked every officer. How she remembered names. How she checked on everyone after operations instead of herself.
One evening, while watching the sunset from yet another safe house balcony, she spoke quietly.
"You know what people see when they hear what I do?" Deacon didn't answer immediately. "They make assumptions. They think I'm broken."
She looked down. "They think I deserve whatever happens because of where I work." He turned toward her. "I don't." Her eyes met his.
"I see someone who walked into danger to help strangers." She blinked. "I see someone risking everything because it's the right thing." Her smile was small. "...Thank you."
🪩🪩🪩🪩
The final operation happened at the Port of Los Angeles. Cargo cranes towered overhead. Rain hammered steel containers.
The crime syndicate had come to eliminate their last loose end. Y/N.
"They're moving!" Street shouted. Gunfire exploded. SWAT advanced between rows of shipping containers.
Bullets sparked against steel. One suspect climbed a crane. Another disappeared beneath the docks.
Explosions rocked the pier as fuel drums ignited. Deacon and Hondo pushed forward. "Left!" A suspect burst from cover. Deacon tackled him.
Another raised his rifle— Before he could fire, Y/N slammed a loose metal pipe into his arm. The weapon clattered away. "Behind you!" she shouted. Deacon spun, taking down another gunman.
Within minutes... It was over. The syndicate leader lay in handcuffs. The evidence was secured. The city was safe.
🪩🪩🪩🪩
A week later, life felt...quiet.
The Velvet Room remained closed as investigators worked through the evidence.
Y/N stood outside SWAT headquarters holding a box. Street opened it. "Cookies?" "For saying thank you."
Luca immediately stole three. "I regret nothing." Chris laughed. "You fit in disturbingly well." "I've been told that."
One by one, the team drifted back inside, leaving Deacon and Y/N alone on the front steps. "You know," he said, "HQ's going to be quieter without you." "I can still visit." "I was hoping you'd say that." She smiled.
"I don't exactly have many friends who drive armoured vehicles." He laughed. "I'd like to change that." "Friends?" He hesitated. "...Maybe dinner first."
She looked at him for a long moment before smiling. "I was wondering how long that would take." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been told I'm cautious." "Hmm." She stepped a little closer. "I think you're worth waiting for."
Behind the glass doors, half the squad was very obviously pretending not to watch. Street whispered loudly, "Is he asking her out?" Chris elbowed him. "Shut up."
Too late. Deacon looked over his shoulder. Street gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up. Y/N laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. "You work with children." "Professionals," Deacon corrected.
She glanced through the doors again. "I think that's debatable." He laughed with her.
For the first time since the case had begun, there were no gunshots, no safe houses, and no criminals hunting them.
Just two people standing on the front steps of headquarters, realizing that sometimes the best things in life could come from the most unexpected—and dangerous—beginnings.
Summary: A stressful trip to the mall takes an unexpected turn when Deacon's youngest daughter wanders off and is found safe with a kind young mother, Y/N L/N, and her daughter. Grateful for her calmness and compassion, Deacon exchanges numbers with her, leading to regular playdates between the girls. As the children become inseparable, so do Deacon and Y/N. What starts as friendship slowly blossoms into love, and when Deacon finally realizes he's ready to take the next step, he proudly introduces Y/N and her daughter to the SWAT family.💘
Thank you, Anon, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
Saturday afternoons were supposed to be simple.
Buy school shoes. Pick up birthday supplies. Maybe grab ice cream if the kids behave.
Instead, Deacon Kay was standing in the middle of a crowded shopping mall with his heart somewhere around his knees.
"She was just here," he muttered, scanning the sea of shoppers.
His youngest daughter had let go of his hand for what couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
A display of stuffed animals. One distracted customer. Then...Gone.
His breathing quickened as he searched every storefront.
"Vivi!" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Come on, answer me."
Years of tactical training couldn't prepare him for the fear of losing one of his children.
He checked the food court. The toy store. The escalators. Nothing. Then he heard a small giggle.
Following the sound, he rounded a corner near the indoor play area. There, sitting on a bench with a young woman, was his daughter. Safe. Happy. Holding a juice box.
The woman looked up as he approached. "You must be Dad."
Relief hit him so hard he nearly laughed. His daughter jumped down from the bench. "Daddy!"
She wrapped her arms around his legs. "I'm sorry." He knelt immediately, hugging her tightly. "You scared me." "I know."
After a long moment, he looked up at the woman. "Thank you." She smiled warmly. "I'm Y/N."
Beside her sat a little girl about the same age as Deacon's daughter, happily colouring in a princess book.
"My daughter, Enola, spotted her standing by herself. We figured we'd stay put instead of wandering around."
Deacon stood, still catching his breath. "I'm Deacon." "I guessed." He blinked.
"The worried dad sprinting through the mall kind of gave it away." Despite everything, he laughed.
🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️
After making sure everyone was calm, the girls immediately asked the same question. "Can we play again?"
Deacon and Y/N exchanged amused glances. "Well..." Y/N smiled. "I don't see why not."
🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️
The first playdate was at a neighbourhood park. The second was at the zoo.
The third somehow turned into pizza, a movie, and four straight hours of the girls pretending the playground was a pirate ship.
Soon, playdates became routine. Sometimes at Deacon's house. Sometimes at Y/N's.
Sometimes, wherever the girls decided, adventure awaited.
The children clicked instantly. So did the adults. Conversation never felt forced.
Y/N understood that Deacon's children came first.
She never complained when plans changed because of school events or soccer practice.
And Deacon admired the way she raised Enola—with patience, kindness, and just enough playful chaos to keep life interesting.
🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️
One afternoon, while the kids chased bubbles through Y/N's backyard, Deacon found himself watching her laugh.
She was kneeling in the grass, pretending to be caught by invisible monsters while all five children (Matthew, Lila, Samuel, Victoria & Enola) squealed with delight.
"You know," she said without looking up, "it's rude to stare."
He chuckled. "I wasn't staring." "Oh?" "I was...observing." She grinned. "That's somehow worse."
For the first time in years, Deacon realized something. Home wasn't always a place. Sometimes... It was a person.
The children noticed before anyone else.
"Daddy smiles more now," Victoria whispered one evening. His older children couldn't argue.
He did. He laughed more easily. He looked lighter. Even Hondo noticed Deacon checking his phone between calls.
"You dating somebody?" Deacon looked up too quickly. "No." Street smirked. "That wasn't convincing."
🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️
A month later, Deacon stood outside Y/N's front door holding a small bouquet of wildflowers.
When she opened the door, she looked surprised. "These are for me?" "They are." "Not because the girls picked them?" "They absolutely helped pick them." She laughed. "I thought so."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been meaning to ask..." She waited patiently. "Would you like to go on an actual date?"
She smiled so brightly it answered before she even spoke. "I'd love to."
🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️
A few weeks later, Deacon had another question. "This isn't too much?" he asked as they pulled into SWAT headquarters. Y/N glanced over. "You've mentioned your team about a hundred times." "I have?"
"You accidentally call Street 'the annoying little brother I never asked for.'"
"That's...fair." She laughed. "I'm ready." Inside headquarters, Street spotted them first. "Oh!" He pointed dramatically across the bullpen. "It's happening!"
Within seconds, everyone looked up. Tan smiled knowingly. Chris crossed her arms with a grin. Luca muttered, "Finally." Hondo walked over first. "So..."
He looked between them. "This is the woman who's been making Deacon smile like he won the lottery." Deacon shook his head. "Hondo..."
Y/N laughed. "Hi. I'm Y/N." "And this," Deacon said, gently slipping his hand into hers, "is my girlfriend."
The room erupted into cheers. Street threw both hands into the air. "I knew it!" Chris rolled her eyes. "You've been saying that about every woman he's talked to for the last six months."
"Yeah," Street admitted. "But this time I was right." Everyone laughed. Even Deacon.
Looking around the room at his team and then down at Y/N, he couldn't help but think back to that terrifying afternoon at the mall.
He'd gone there expecting to buy a pair of shoes.
Instead, his daughter had accidentally led him to something far more valuable.
A second family. And this time, it had found him when he wasn't even looking.
- After the split from Annie the team tries to help Deacon with the kids. The team decides to arrange a blind date with the reader. Even though she is so much younger than him (28) sparkes fly. But he is afraid because of his past and the kids, so the reader decides to make a suprise with the kids for him :)
- The reader is involved in a case and the squad has to take her into safety. She is liked by everyone at the HQ so after the case is ober they stay in touch with her. Deacon develops feelings for her but Annie decides to show up (for a friendly visit). The reader sees them together and thinks he decides to go back with Annie. The squad tries to make damage control and even Annie encourages him. Happy end :)
- Deacons daughter decides to ran away at the shopping mall and befriends a young lady in her end twenties. After that encounter they make play dates and he falls in love with the reader. At the end he introuces her to the reader.
I hope it is alright that I have new ideas 🫣
Sending hugs 😊
Hiii! Of course I can! I already 2/3 just working on the last one now!
Summary: When Y/N L/N becomes the key witness in a dangerous case, 20-Squad is assigned to keep her safe. Her warm personality quickly wins over everyone at HQ, and even after the case ends, she remains a close friend of the team. As Deacon slowly falls for her, his growing happiness is interrupted when Annie unexpectedly stops by for a friendly visit. Misreading the situation, Y/N believes Deacon has chosen to reunite with his ex-wife and quietly walks away. With the squad—and even Annie—determined not to let a misunderstanding ruin his chance at happiness, they push Deacon to tell Y/N how he really feels.💘
Thank you, Anon, for this request! Hope you enjoy it!
Witness protection was never glamorous.
It usually meant stale coffee, endless paperwork, and long hours sitting outside motel rooms waiting for nothing to happen.
This case was different.
Y/N L/N had witnessed the murder of an accountant tied to one of the largest organized crime investigations Los Angeles had seen in years. She hadn't asked to become the prosecution's star witness, but she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Which meant she became 20-Squad's responsibility.
"You know," she said on the first day while Deacon drove the SUV, "this is probably the most exciting commute I've ever had."
Street laughed from the passenger seat. "Most witnesses cry."
"I cried yesterday." "...Fair." Even Deacon smiled.
🧿🧿🧿🧿
The days turned into weeks. Y/N made the best of a bad situation. She learned everyone's coffee orders.
She brought homemade muffins to HQ one morning because "you all survive on caffeine and bad vending machine snacks."
She challenged Tan to chess. Beat Street three times at darts. Got Luca to admit pineapple on pizza wasn't that terrible.
Even Hicks smiled whenever she walked through headquarters.
By the time the arrests were made and the case officially closed, Y/N wasn't just "the witness." She was family.
Nobody questioned why she still dropped by HQ every few weeks.
🧿🧿🧿🧿
For Deacon, those visits slowly became the best part of his week.
She'd stop by with coffee. Ask about the kids. Stay just long enough to brighten everyone's day before heading back to work.
It felt...easy. Comfortable. Something he hadn't experienced in a long time.
Street noticed first. "Dude." "What?" "You smile differently." "I don't smile differently." "You absolutely smile differently."
Chris overheard and smirked. "Oh my God." Tan looked up from his report. "He doesn't even realize it." "I realize plenty." Luca walked by. "He likes her."
Deacon groaned. "You people are exhausting."
🧿🧿🧿🧿
He hadn't told her. Not because he didn't want to. Because he was scared.
After everything with Annie... He wanted to be certain before risking another relationship.
Then fate decided to intervene.
🧿🧿🧿🧿
Y/N arrived at HQ one afternoon carrying two coffees. She'd barely stepped through the doors when she froze.
Annie stood near Deacon's desk. The two were laughing. Talking comfortably. The way people did after years of marriage.
Y/N's smile faded. Of course. Why wouldn't they find their way back to each other?
She quietly placed the coffees on Deacon's desk before turning around. Street caught the movement. "Y/N?"
She forced a smile. "I actually...forgot I have somewhere to be."
Then she left.
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Five minutes later, Chris marched into the bullpen.
"What happened?" Street pointed toward the parking lot. "She saw Annie."
The entire room went silent. Deacon frowned. "...So?" "So she thinks you two are getting back together."
"What?"
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Annie blinked. "Oh."
Everyone looked at her. "Oh, honey," Annie sighed. "That's what she thought?"
Deacon stared. "You knew?" "I was married to you for years, Deacon." She smiled knowingly.
"I know exactly how you look at her." Street slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
Annie folded her arms. "What are you all standing around for?" Nobody moved. She raised an eyebrow.
"Go after her."
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Y/N sat alone on the pier, watching the waves crash below.
She heard footsteps behind her. "I've been looking everywhere." She didn't turn around. "You didn't have to."
Deacon stopped beside her. "You left." "I didn't want to interrupt." "There was nothing to interrupt."
She finally looked at him. "I saw you with Annie." "Yes." "You looked..."
He smiled softly. "Friendly?" She laughed despite herself. "I guess." "We're never getting back together."
The words were simple. Certain.
"There will always be history between us," he admitted. "She's the mother of my children, and I care about her. But we're better as friends."
Y/N looked down. "I thought..."
"I know." He gently reached for her hand. "The truth is..." He laughed nervously. "I'm actually here because the entire squad—and Annie—basically ordered me to tell you how I feel."
She blinked. "...Annie?" He nodded. "Her exact words were, 'Stop being an idiot and go after the woman who makes you happy.'"
Y/N couldn't help laughing. "I like her." "So do I."
Silence settled between them. Then Deacon took a deep breath. "I like you, Y/N."
Her smile grew. "I was beginning to think I'd imagined all those smiles."
"Oh, those were definitely real." She stepped closer. "So...does this mean I can finally stop pretending I only come to HQ for Chris' muffins?"
Deacon chuckled. "Wait...Chris made the muffins?" "No." "I knew it." She laughed, leaning into him.
Back at HQ, the rest of the squad watched from a discreet distance.
"They're hugging," Street whispered. "They're definitely hugging," Tan confirmed. Chris smiled.
"Took them long enough."
Annie watched beside them, a warm smile crossing her face. "They deserve this." Hondo nodded. "Yeah."
For the first time in a long time, Deacon looked completely at peace.
And everyone who cared about him knew he'd finally found the fresh start he deserved.
