hi hi im fucking obsessed with your page and all the lovely anons like ya’ll are keeping me alive with your thoughts, comments, rants, stories, and gifs😭😭😭 HOWEVER i was wondering if anyone has any thoughts about how the team would take it if they saw how haley was treating the reader with her snide fucking comments and ugly ass attitude???? OR what if haley tries to get the team on her side bc she’s so fucking stupid and blinded with jealousy even tho they arent really close in the first place????
please bless me with your thoughts (IM BEGGING YOU🧎♀️)
- 🌊
Awwwhhh gosh thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖 you're very sweet! And I welcome you 🌊 anon!! It's nice to have you here 🥰🥰🥰🥰
NOW onto the deets!! Sooooo okay they can tell that whenever you're around or mentioned Haley is ✨tense✨. I mean they are profilers! It esp goes down when there's a gathering at the bar after a case. You're there, as you often are (even before you started dating Aaron if you're part of the team) and just generally having a great time sitting with him.
And then Haley enters the same bar. She managed to have Jack handed over to her sister, being encouraged to "get back out there". But what Jessica doesn't know is Haley decided to go to the very same bar she was attending with Aaron with the team years ago. She had heard he was seeing someone, but now she knows he is. And boy... she is not happy.
You're younger than her for a start. Pretty. Real pretty. Definitely more filled out than she ever was, however. And Aaron has his arm around your waist, smiling gently and chuckling at whatever the conversation was being had. No, she didn't want to see him so-
So she decides to saunter into the bar, pretending she hasn't seen any of them as she orders herself a drink. As she takes hold of her drink she walks casually near their table, she knows they've spotted her now. And then she feigns surprise as she lets her eyes wander to the group.
"Oh! I didn't expect to cross paths with you all tonight." She says. The group offer polite greetings to her and she smiles and nods, then her eyes land on you. "Ah... and you are?"
You tell her your name. She watches as Aaron's grip on you tightens a little. She hums.
"I see. Well I'm Haley Brooks, Aaron's ex-wife. I'm sure you know my dearest Jack, yes? I'm his mother." She says smugly as she shakes your hand a little too tightly. You look uncomfortable, she enjoys it. Her eyes drift to Aaron, who's watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. "I didn't expect you to move onto someone so... hmm, how should I put it?"
"Haley." Aaron says. His tone is a warning. Haley narrows her eyes a little.
"I was only going to say they're young, Aaron." God, she enjoyed the discomfort from the way she said his name. You're looking at her with a certain look that suggested you knew she was lying about what she was about to say. No doubt you'd heard it before, she thinks. One of the others at the table clears their throat.
"Ah, you here with anyone tonight?" Emilia(Emily?) asks her. Haley shifts her gaze to the woman with dark hair.
"Mhm no. Just haven't had much time for myself recently." She knows her words sting. Good. You clear your throat and offer a polite smile.
"I don't mind looking after Jack sometimes if you and Jessica need a break. He's always a good kid when he's at his dad's." You offer and Haley breathes out through her nose sharply.
"That's funny, when I spotted you all I thought you probably worked as a babysitter. You certainly look like one."
Before anyone else can speak up, Aaron slams his glass down on the table and stands up, firm and tall.
"Alright, that's enough. I think you should go." He says sternly to her. Haley gasps, wide eyed.
"A-Aaron I-"
"Now."
In a spark of anger, Haley downs her drink in one and slams her own glass down on the table.
"Fine. I'll just have to try to find myself a ride home then." She snaps. She turns to leave, and from behind her she hears possibly Derek say,
"Leave it to us, Hotch. Stay with (Y/n)."
She never did get to see you again.
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gabe perreault imagine please 🙏🙏
long time coming | gabe perreault 💌🌊⭐️
gabe perreault x fem!reader
summary: you're sick and the only person who can cure you is your best friend, gabe!
warning(s): fluff, fluff, fluff
author's note: eee this is my first gabe fic! thank u anon for suggesting him, i was in a huge writers slump so ty ty ty! enjoy!
You had heard stories of people falling in love with their best friend; it happened to your parents, your older sister and her boyfriend, all of your cousins, but to you, love just felt unattainable, like maybe you were the exception. The love bug skipped a generation and was already preparing for the next—but now? Now you felt it. You felt it crawl underneath your skin and bubble in your stomach. You felt your chest tighten and the heat rise to your cheeks.
You were in love, true love.
“Gabe,” you groaned over the phone, his breathing sounding staticy over the line. You had been sick for a few days, only a slight cough and an itchy throat, but today felt 10 times worse. Your stomach was aching, your head felt like it was getting hit by a basketball every couple of seconds, and you sniffled so frequently you were sure that something was going to go up the wrong pipe and straight up to your brain.
And you felt bad, not only because of your illness, but because it was nearly 2 AM and you could hear Gabe shuffle underneath his dark blue sheets in the dorm he shared with his best friend, Will Smith. You knew it was late and this was wrong. I mean, the boy had a game against Boston University in the morning, now was not the time to wake him, but you just didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were dying and all you needed was one of Gabe’s famous hugs and maybe a back rub (he was really good at those).
“Hey,” he said quietly, trying not to wake the snoring Will on the other side of the room. His eyes were fighting to stay open, determined not to lean onto his fluffy white pillow and fall back to sleep. “You okay?”
You sniffled, grabbing another tissue from the box that laid beside your bed. “I feel like I’m dying,” you responded, your voice sounding congested and nasally—not in the slightest like your normal tone.
You could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. Then, you could hear keys jangling and his closet door opening, a hoodie getting thrown over his body, and then the door to his dorm being pulled open. You wanted to protest because you knew what he was doing, where he was going, but you had no energy to speak. Instead, your stubborn voice turned to loud coughs that made Gabe want to pull you in his arms and hold you until they faded into oblivion.
But he couldn’t. It was too much for you. It would be weird. You wouldn’t feel the same. It was the exact same thing he’s been telling himself for months (really what he’s been telling himself since the moment he met you). It would ruin your guys’ friendship and you will never want to speak to him again. If only he could hear your thoughts because then, maybe he’d be thinking differently, and it wouldn’t be so hard.
Three soft knocks on the door of your dorm signaled exactly what you suspected would happen. Gabe was your best friend and if he caught the flu, you would be there holding his hand and making him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. If you were crying about a failed test, he would buy you ice cream and agree to watch countless episodes of The Bachelor until you were feeling okay again. One time you were sick with Covid and Gabe didn’t even care. He stayed with you during quarantine, snuggled under mountains of blankets, watching movies until you were sick of them, and gossiping about anyone and anything. It wasn’t a surprise that he caught the sickness a couple days later. Your moms laughed about the memory, finding it endearing that you two loved each other so much that you were willing to be sick together.
Gabe settled some medicine on your bedside table before lifting your light pink covers and crawling into bed with you. You fit perfectly into his arms, like this spot was made just for you. Despite your sweaty forehead and aching body, he held you tightly, placing small kisses on the crown of your head. Your parents had always joked about you two getting married someday, but sometimes you wished that it was real; that you would grow old with him and live in a big white house with a white picket fence and a large rose garden in the backyard. You truly couldn’t see your life with anyone else.
But that was silly. Gabe was your best friend. That would just be weird—right?
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He walked all the way from his building to yours in the middle of the night despite having a ginormous game tomorrow. He felt unreal, like how could a person be so perfect and somehow be yours?
“Don’t be,” his words were just as soft. His chin resting on the top of your head as yours fit in the space between his neck and shoulder, leaving delicate kisses on his adams apple. This isn’t what best friends do, you told yourself. Best friends don’t kiss each other. Best friends don’t cuddle underneath sheets and hold hands to “warm each other up.” It was confusing and you hated it. You hated not knowing how he was feeling when you knew exactly how you felt about Gabe.
“You didn’t have to come here.”
“You called.”
You laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could’ve stayed in bed and slept longer and had good dreams and—”
“Hey,” he smiled down softly at you, lifting your chin to look up at him. His hand lingered there for a while, not wanting to move away from you. There was something about you that made Gabe want to be closer and closer. There was something that made him want to parade you around campus, telling everyone that you were his. He wanted to see you in his jersey and kiss you after games and hold you tight at parties. He wanted to take you with him to New York when he plays for the Rangers after college and introduce you to his family as his girlfriend instead of just his best friend. Gabe was ready for more, but he hated thinking that you might not be. “I wasn’t just going to let you die, okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, like that one time you pushed me down that water slide at Hurricane Harbor.”
“Pft, you wanted to go down that.”
You chuckled incredulously. “There is no way you just said that.”
“‘Oh, Gabe, please take me on this waterslide. I’ve been dying to go with you.’”
“I don’t sound like that.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you sound like this,” he said, pinching his nose with his fingers, his voice sounding blocked and nasally.
You pushed his hands away, hiding your face in his clothed chest. “Shut up.”
“C’mon, you love it.”
“I will fight you.”
He ran his hand up and down your arm, your eyes fluttering closed and your breathing steadying. He held you tighter, wrapping both arms around you and snuggling deeper into the bed. His last words before you fell into hypnosis lingered in your mind as you couldn’t even escape your lovestruck dreams of the perfect boy. “Keep telling yourself that, sicko.”
By the time the sun rose, you were sure that he would be gone; that his hoodie would be collected from the carpet, that his legs would no longer be intertwined with yours, and that his belongings would be gone, but he was still there and you were still in his arms and everything was still perfect. His breathing was soft and slow, his little curls were a bit tussled, his cheeks were pale, and you wondered what he was dreaming about that left a ghost of a smile on his face.
You wanted to wake up like this everyday and everyday after that. So yeah, maybe you were in love. Maybe you were in deep. And maybe you were ready to tell him.
He rustled around before lifting his eyes open, his smile growing wider when he saw your pink face, knowing he caught you staring at him as you glanced around the room, trying not to make eye contact with the boy.
“Feeling better?” he asked, turning to his side and facing you.
A strand slipped through your loose ponytail and settled on the front of your face, covering your eyes as he allowed his hands to work faster than his mind. He slowly brought his hand up, carefully moving the strand behind your ear. And you would expect the moment to be over but when his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb lightly running over the smooth skin of your face, you knew that maybe just maybe there could be something more.
You nodded slowly. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad. I hate seeing my girl sick,” he spoke softly as if speaking any louder would shatter the calming atmosphere.
My girl. You wanted to allow your mind to toss and turn, investigate the meaning behind those two words, search for his thought-process, his feelings, anything, but for the first time in forever, you felt serene and calm with him. You didn’t feel the need to wonder what this meant for the two of you. You were perfectly content where you were now, where you were going, and what you were going to do next.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast yet gentle. His eyes wandered down to your place of connection and when they met yours again, you could’ve sworn you saw something: a spark, hope, clarity, confirmation.
And when he leaned in, holding your face close with the hand still resting on your cheek, his lips hovering over yours, desperate to connect, you knew nothing would be the same. He would never be just your best friend anymore. And you were perfectly okay with that.
As Gabe leaned in, his lips met yours in a tender, yet passionate kiss. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, where every sensation was heightened—the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the racing of your heart. In that instant, all doubts melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of certainty and bliss.
The kiss deepened, as if both of you were pouring all the unspoken feelings and desires into this one act. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every part of him against you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he never wanted to let go.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading into insignificance. When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, you found yourselves gazing into each other's eyes, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. But there was no fear, no uncertainty, only a profound sense of connection and joy.
“I’m sick,” you said, making Gabe chuckle softly. Of course your first words after a long-anticipated kiss would be that. But that’s what Gabe loved about you. You were you in every sense of the word. You are the reason his stomach hurts from laughing every time he comes back to his dorm, staring into space as he thinks about your giggle and your smile and your stupid humor. You are everything. You’re the world.
I just kissed the world, Gabe thought. My girl.
With a smile that spoke volumes, Gabe whispered, "I don’t care."
“You will when you get sick.”
“And will you be here? When I get sick?” he asked, his thumb running back and forth on the exposed space of skin on your pelvis.
You nodded. You would be there for him through anything no matter what. “Always.”
“Then I’m okay with it.”
And in that moment, as you nestled into his embrace once more, you knew that the stories were real and true; that love is real and true, because you just fell in it and you couldn’t be happier.
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