#and i thought tom didn't have arms for a second lmao

[confused-pyramid]

Tell Me Some Things Last | s3

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 23.1k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 3x01, 3x02, 3x03, 3x06, 3x08, 3x09, 3x14, 3x16, 3x17, 3x19, and 3x20

a/n: season 3! The slow burn continues:) This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it! (and I promise the chapters won't keep getting longer, this one just got out of hand LMAO) Title is from Heal by Tom Odell

series masterlist

"Excuse me?"

Section Chief Strauss doesn't falter. "You can't expect me to believe you think Agent Hotchner has done an effective job leading this unit."

"You can't expect me to believe that you think I'd willing spy on my unit chief for you."

She sighs and you want to throttle her. "Agent L/N, I know you two share a history, but this is bigger than that. People have died on his watch."

You have been trying to remain neutral since you were called into her office, but every word that comes out of her mouth makes you see red. Yes, this past year has been tough, but none of it was in his control.

"I think you know my answer," you say coldly, straightening your back in her chair. "I have to go, we have a case in Arizona."

She holds your gaze for a second, before nodding and turning back to her computer. You stand up and leave her office without another word, hastening your pace to a light jog the moment you're out of her line of sight.

You want to talk to Hotch as soon as possible, but by the time you get back to the bullpen, the whole team and their go-bags are gone. Grabbing your own bag, you rush over to the airstrip where everyone is settled inside the jet.

He glances up with a thin smile when you take a seat across from him, and you return it, not wanting to raise his concern when everyone is around.

The Flagstaff police meet you at the airport when you land, and everyone jumps into the awaiting SUVs to get to the crime scene as soon as possible.

The victim is another brunette woman on the college campus, but luckily her body was found after curfew, so students aren't milling around.

You step closer to examine the woman's body as JJ glances down at her hand. "She had her Mace out, but she didn't use it?"

Morgan nods, looking around. "And it's well-lit. He's not afraid of being seen."

A bus stop sign catches your attention and you turn to Detective Griffith. "How often do the shuttles run?"

He answers immediately. "Every 10 minutes."

"Were all the other victims posed like this?" Reid asks, bending over to get a better look. "With their arms crossed."

Griffith frowns. "Yeah. Why?"

"It's a classic sign of remorse," Morgan responds, stepping in to take over the explanation. "The unsub kills the victim then immediately feels bad about it, so he poses them like this, so they'll rest in peace."

"You can tell that just by the arms?"

"It's why you called us here. To build a psychological profile of your killer."

After inspecting the crime scene, Gideon and Morgan leave to talk to the dean of the school, and JJ and Reid go to meet with the students living in the victim's dorm. Hotch is still back at the station, and you haven't gotten a chance to talk to him since meeting with Strauss, but you push it out of your mind as you accompany Emily to the coroner's office.

You're so lost in thought that the drive over is entirely silent, and it's not until you've parked that you realize she didn't say a word either.

When the coroner leads you to the victim's body, you notice how much clearer each of the markings and cuts are. Hotch doesn't assign you to speak with the coroners very often, usually sending Prentiss, because of her incredible attention to detail, but not that you're here, you appreciate the second chance to examine the victim.

"Did the other victims have this much overkill?" she asks, pulling out her camera as you flip open your notebook.

"Death was caused by a single, very forceful stab wound to the heart," the coroner confirms.

You lean in closer to see the insertion point and notice the lumpy discoloring on the victim's chest. "Yeah, it looks like he broke through the breastbone."

"And after that he just lashed out at random," he adds.

Emily hums in agreement before snapping a couple of photos. "Well, no defensive wounds. She didn't even hold her hands up to fight him off."

"The first two victims were the same."

A shudder runs through you as the two of you leave the cold room and emerge into the warm sunlight. "Why is it almost harder to look at the victims when they're cleaned up and no longer covered in blood?"

Emily considers your question for a moment. "Maybe it's because they look less human that way."

You remember Jeff's funeral, how lifeless he seemed in his casket, and how you could barely look at him during the proceedings. It was somehow worse than seeing him at the crime scene, blood everywhere. At least then, you could still see the warmth in his skin. Later, he just looked cold.

"I think you're right," you tell her just as her phone chirps with a call.

She stiffens imperceptibly when she sees the number, but you only notice because of how hyper-vigilant you have been about your own tells since speaking with Strauss. "I need to take this. Give me a second."

She walks away from you and answers the call, her tone hushed so that you can't hear her. You know it could easily just be a personal call about something private in her life, but there's something almost familiar about the look in her eyes when she saw the number.

"Everything okay?" you ask her when she returns, but she just sighs and starts walking to the SUV. "It's nothing."

You haven't known her for as long as the other members of the team, but it's not hard to tell that she's hiding something. She looks distracted as she avoids making eye contact, and when you remember how you did the same with Hotch on the plane, the pieces fall into place.

If Strauss gave her the same assignment she tried to give you, then you need to keep an eye on her. You don't believe that she would sell out the team, but you also know how terrifying you thought Strauss was when you first joined the bureau.

***

The profile leads you to take Nathan Tubbs, one of the campus security guards, into custody, and while Gideon interrogates him, you walk with Reid, JJ, and Emily through the quad to get back to the station.

"Everyone is so much younger than I remember being," JJ says, as you all pass through a crowded part of campus. Word must have spread that the team arrested someone, because you can't imagine why else there would be so many students hanging outside after dark.

"Yeah, it's a weird age," Emily chuckles. "You want to be treated like an adult, but you're still used to someone else solving your problems for you."

"All I remember is trying to figure out who I was."

That makes you laugh. "I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was in college."

"Didn't you go to college with Hotch?" JJ asks, her eyes twinkling. You expect she's hoping for an embarrassing, or at least interesting, story from those years, but your past with him feels almost like sacred territory: something you can't breach when he's not around.

"Not college," you correct, "just everything else before and after."

"What was he like then?" Emily asks, genuine curiosity in her tone. You still can't believe that she would spy for Strauss, but you also can't help your suspicions.

"He was completely different, but also the same." You smile as you think back to the early years of your friendship. "He was kind of a cool kid in high school, but he was just as focused and determined as he is now."

"Hotch was popular?" Reid asks in disbelief.

JJ snorts. "Why can't I imagine that at all."

"He was trustworthy," you shrug, "and kind. Even when people weren't kind to him."

The three of them go silent, and you suddenly feel extremely self-conscious, but you're saved when your phone rings with a call from Derek. "Hey."

"There's been another murder."

***

The case ends in a murder-suicide that a part of you believes Gideon should've seen coming. JJ calls the jet to take off at first light, and everyone looks exhausted when you arrive at the airport. You sleep most of the flight back, but when you step into the field office again, you know you can't ignore the talk you've been avoiding all day.

You go to his office in the hopes of having this conversation privately, but he isn't inside when you look through the open door. You turn back with a frown and are about to head down the stairs again when you see him leaving Strauss's office across the hall.

He spots you immediately, and before you can say anything, he says, "I just got suspended."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

"Two weeks."

You blanche as you follow him into his office, where he immediately starts packing up his essentials into his briefcase. "Hotch...I have to tell you something. Something I should have mentioned yesterday."

"What is it?" he asks, his voice slightly distracted.

"StraussaskedmetospyonyouandIthinkshealsoaskedEmily!"

He blinks. "Can you say that again?"

You press your lips together, before trying again, slower this time. "Strauss asked me to spy on you, and I think she also asked Emily."

He closes his eyes for a beat, but it feels like years. You can feel the disappointment wafting off of him, but he doesn't say anything, giving you the time to explain in more detail.

"She asked me right before we flew to Arizona," you tell him, your chest aching at the defeated look on his face. "I told her I wouldn't do it, of course, and that you are the perfect leader for this team. But I was watching Emily the whole time we were there, and I think Strauss might have threatened her or made her some kind of offer."

His hands pause their packing and for a moment, you're worried that he's going to be angry you didn't come to him sooner, but then he just sighs, a deeply dejected sound. "I figured she would. It's basically in the FBI playbook."

"You knew?" you say, your voice almost like a gasp.

"I didn't know for sure," he amends, "but I believed so. And I'm usually right about these kinds of things. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. You guys will be fine without me."

You want to shake him; to reach forward and rattle his shoulders until he realizes that this is it. This is exactly why he makes such a great unit chief.

He doesn't get angry, even when he may have cause to be. He trusts his team so wholeheartedly that even under the suspicion of spying to the higher-ups, he still treats everyone the same. He puts the team above himself in almost every aspect, and the intermittent calls you get from Haley when you're in the middle of a long case prove that it may be to his own detriment, but he still does it. Because he cares so deeply, about each of you, and about each victim, and about catching each killer.

"We need you," you say, emphasizing your words as though that will make him understand you better.

"Morgan and Prentiss will be fine," he says pointedly, as though trying to prove a point. "I'm sure they'll even be better off. And Reid and JJ can look to you for guidance. It's practically what they do already."

"Fine," you sigh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "They'll be okay. But what if I need you?"

He looks at you then, and there's a sadness behind the stern set of his eyes. "You'll be okay."

***

You have to drag yourself out of the house the next morning. The knowledge that Hotch (and most likely Gideon) won't be at the office sucks the motivation out of you, especially because you have no idea what will happen once the team is given another case. Will they assign you a new unit chief? Will they temporarily promote someone on the team?

You push your questions out of your mind as you mindlessly get through security and flop down at your desk. There's a palpable difference with half the team gone, especially since Emily doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight either, and the emptiness of the office somehow feels more claustrophobic.

You finished all of your paperwork the night before, because you couldn't sleep after hearing of Hotch's suspension, so sitting at your desk now, you have nothing to do until a new case arrives.

Reid and Morgan dive into their own paperwork the minute they sit down, and they don't look up except to grab a new pen or refill their mugs.

You can see the tension lining everyone's shoulders, the stress about the future of this team, with its two senior-most members gone.

When you can't take the lack of work anymore, you head over to JJ's office, where she is poring over a stack of case files so tall that you can't see her face until you step in front of her desk. "Hey, JJ."

"Oh, hey," she says, looking up at you. "It's been really quiet out there."

You nod, dropping onto the sofa across from her. "Half the team's gone. It doesn't feel the same."

"I wish I could come out there and sit with you guys, but I have so many new case files to look over."

"Need any help?"

She looks up in surprise. "Actually, that would be great. Can I leave you with a few of them? There's a checklist for what I need you to note down at the top of that stack."

"Of course," you say before she hands you a thick stack of files. "I'll get them back to you soon."

"Take your time," she says, waving you away. "I have like a billion more to go through anyway."

When you're back at your desk, you set down the stack with a small thud and open the first file. You're bombarded with gory images of men who have been brutally stabbed to death, and you read over the case history quickly before opening the next one. This time, the images are of live women, all of whom share a skin tone and hair color, and have been kidnapped in the last week.

You slam the file shut and close your eyes in an effort to keep your head from spinning. You don't understand how anyone could classify these cases. How they could decide that one of these unsubs is worse than another. But there aren't enough teams like yours to cover every case that comes through the door, so someone has to.

You glance up at Hotch's office again, a force of habit, and the darkness in his doorway reminds you of the emptiness in the office. It's the same with Gideon's office, and Emily's desk.

You miss them all.

***

The first week of Hotch's suspension is hell. Gideon still hasn't turned up, and you can see his absence clawing at Spencer, who hasn't gone more than an hour without glancing at his office since he left. Derek doesn't admit it, but you can tell he misses Hotch's leadership over the team.

Strauss has come by periodically to "check in" on your team's work, but with the other units available to take on any new cases, she hasn't assigned you anything. You know she doesn't trust your team, but you're surprised that even with Hotch gone, she's still treating all of you like extensions of him. Not that she's wrong about that.

Without getting called in, you stay at home for the first few days, and even get some use out of your Peloton for once. You've been missing him all week, but it's not until the following Monday that you decide to actually do something about it.

Grabbing the files JJ gave you to look over, you stuff them in your bag and drive up to his house. Both cars are in the driveway when you arrive, and you belatedly realize that you should have called first.

You knock on the door hesitantly, and are surprised to see Jack in Haley's arms when she opens the door. She looks excited to see you, but you still feel bad about just showing up. "I'm sorry, I should have called."

"Not at all," she says, opening the door wider for you to enter. "You know I love seeing you."

"Y/N's here," Haley announces as she leads you into the kitchen and sets Jack back into his high chair. She shoots you a pointed look. "And she's not here to talk about work."

"Of course not," you say with a laugh. "I just wanted to see how the suspension was going. The team really misses you."

He acknowledges you with a small nod, and you take a seat opposite him at the table, where he is feeding Jack his cereal.

"I miss everyone, too," he says, "but it's also been nice to have some extra time at home."

"This suspension has been a blessing in disguise," Haley jumps in, ruffling Jack's hair. You don't miss the way Hotch's jaw twitches.

You aren't sure what to say to that, but Haley just pulls Jack out of his chair and turns to the doorway. "I'm gonna put him down for his nap. It was nice seeing you, Y/N."

"You too, Hales," you say earnestly, before smiling at Jack. "Bye, buddy."

When she's out of the room, you shoot Hotch a look that makes him lean back with a frown. "What?"

"You miss work, don't you."

He huffs, and you take that as an admission. "I've loved being home," he says, his words slightly more emphasized than necessary.

You can hear the candor in his voice. You don't doubt that he loves spending time with his family, you just also know the pull of the job. The fulfillment of saving people from unimaginable horrors, and the desolate ache that comes when you know you aren't doing everything you can.

"You can feel both things," you whisper as he exasperatedly runs his hand through his hair. He got a haircut.

The thought pops into your head against your will, and you glance up at his hair as you realize this is the shortest it's been in a long time. It suits him, but it also emphasizes the hard furrow of his brow.

"Haley doesn't understand that," he says simply, no ill intention in his tone, "but I can't expect her to. I barely understand it, and it's what I'm feeling."

To the outside listener, his words could be construed as complaints, but there's nothing but deep empathy in his voice. He loves her so much, and even though they're having differences about his work life, she loves him too.

You spend the next half hour talking him through each of the cases that JJ left you with, and when Haley returns to the kitchen after putting Jack down for his nap, you pull out a chair for her and tuck the files away.

"We need to have you over for dinner sometime soon," she says as soon as she takes a seat. "I can't believe we haven't done it yet." She looks to Hotch with an earnest sigh. "I guess Jack has been kind of a handful, but I can't believe this is your first time coming to the house since he was born."

"It's been too long," he agrees, draping an arm over the back of her chair. The sight of their casual intimacy is a reminder of what you once had, but the usual mistiness doesn't come when you think about Jeff. Your chest just fills with a liquid-y warmth that feels like melted chocolate and syrup.

"Likewise," you smile, patting Haley's hand. "I don't know if I can handle another night out, even with the mid-evening interruption."

She laughs heartily, and you see Hotch's lips curve up involuntarily. "I think I'm partied out for the year."

His arm slips down to rest against her waist, but she doesn't lean into him like she usually does. You avert your eyes, glancing up at their kitchen wall clock and faking a gasp. "I've taken up too much of your family time. I should go."

"It's okay," Hotch assuages at the same time that Haley says, "I'll walk you out."

They share a small glance, and you suddenly feel intrusive in their home. "I'll see you in a week."

He nods and you follow Haley to the door, where she gives you a quick squeeze and another promise to have you over for dinner soon. The sun starts to set as you drive home, and before you can second guess yourself, you're turning into a local farmer's market that is about to shut down for the night.

You rush through the stalls and stop in front of the flower shop, where you buy a dozen pink carnations. The vendor ties the bouquet with a silky ribbon and you hold the flowers close to your heart as you walk back to your car and start driving.

This time, you're more aware of the direction you're headed. You don't stop your car until you're in the parking lot and you don't stop moving until you're past the front gates and up the grassy hill where Jeff's headstone sits stoically under the waning sunlight.

You take a deep breath as you sink down to your knees, blissfully unaware of the grass stains coloring your slacks. You set the flowers down in front of his headstone, which you haven't seen in months.

                                                 Jeff Adler

                               Beloved Son, Husband, Brother

                                        Until we meet again

The carnations look bright against the gray stone, and you arrange them neatly so that they don't get blown away.

He loved flowers. He knew they were impermanent and likely a waste of money, but he still loved all of the different emotions they symbolized, and how beautiful they could be for as long as they lasted.

He brought you a bouquet of heliotrope almost every week after you got married, and when you asked him what it meant, he insisted that it was something you had to find out in your own time. That time came a quick Google search later, and when the words 'eternal love' flashed on your screen, you knew you had picked the right man.

You brush your finger against the petals of the pink carnations you brought, remembering the rest of what the search yielded. Angelica for inspiration, calla lily for beauty, and pink carnation for gratitude.

You're so grateful you met him. So grateful he loved you as much as you loved him.

"I love you," you whisper, suddenly needing to say the words out loud. There's no one around, and the sun has set far enough that there's barely enough light to see, but your words feel strong as they come out of your mouth. "Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for giving me 10 beautiful years."

You wipe away the tear that falls from the corner of your eye. "Goodbye."

***

He takes his time as he walks through the halls of the Virginia field office on Monday morning. He hasn't been inside in two weeks, and after he and Haley agreed that he should request a transfer, he likely won't be back again for a very long time.

When he walks past the glass doors of the bullpen, he spots you at your desk, pointing out something to Morgan in a case file. He hastens his pace so you don't see him. He still doesn't know how to tell you that he isn't coming back.

"Good morning, ma'am," he says when Strauss beckons him into her office.

"I was hoping you'd do the right thing," she says, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you given any thought to what department you'll request?"

He shakes his head. "I was under the impression that if I left the BAU, I'd have my choice of posts."

"Well, I'll consider it after I fully complete my investigation."

She pauses before looking at him again. "You were a prosecutor. What about heading up a white-collar crime task force? That'll get you home at night at a reasonable hour."

That sounds like exactly what Haley wants for them. They spent hours over the last week discussing what the best path forward would be post-suspension, and after countless late-night arguments, they finally agreed on a transfer. It would be best for the team, and best for his family. So why does he feel so guilty?

"Sorry to interrupt."

Prentiss barges into the office, as though she had an appointment. She glances over at him, and he can't read her expression. "Sir, I've decided to resign from the FBI, effective immediately."

"I don't understand," he frowns, taking in her rigid posture. He remembers your suspicions, as well as his own, but this can't be where it ends.

"I'm taking the foreign service exam. With my connections, I'd stand a good chance of landing in the State Department."

"Prentiss," he urges, trying to convey his understanding in his tone. "I think that's a mistake."

She shakes her head with a sigh. "Well, don't try to talk me out of it. Garcia saw my name on the list, and she already tried."

That makes him pause. "If she can't talk someone out of doing something, no one can."

"Sorry for the interruption, but, sir, it's good to see you back." She turns her gaze to Strauss, even as she continues speaking to him. "The team needs you."

She stalks out of the room after a quick "Ma'am", leaving him alone with Strauss, who looks like she's up to her last nerve. "I'll be overseeing this next case until I can assign your replacement."

"You don't have any field experience, do you?" He doesn't mean for the words to come out so critically, but his emotions are a jumbled mess that he can't decipher well enough to fix his mood right now.

"My job is to protect the Bureau. If I have to hold the team's hand for one case, so be it."

Hold the team's hand. He can't imagine that Strauss will be of much help in the field, but he keeps his mouth shut. He's been around enough authority figures to know when to keep his criticisms to himself.

"Ma'am," he says gently, hoping he can turn his thoughts into useful advice. "In order to function effectively, this team needs stability."

She clasps her hands together on her desk, and he knows it's done. There's nothing he can do to fix this for the team, at least not on this case. "The BAU has some very talented people, and they're Bureau assets, and I believe it's time that they were out from underneath the leadership of you and Jason Gideon."

***

Hotch was supposed to come back today. It's not until you're on the plane that Derek informs the team that he's requesting a transfer.

"What?" you burst out, unable to keep your composure even with Strauss seated a few rows behind you.

"He didn't tell you?"

You shake your head with a forlorn frown, and Derek jumps back in quickly to remediate the situation. "I only found out because I ran into him on the way to the jet. He didn't seem like he was in the mood for talking."

But he tells you everything. At least you thought he did.

"It's okay," you say, forcing your face into a neutral expression. "This isn't about me. I just can't believe he's leaving."

"Yeah," JJ grimaces, "and I can't believe we're stuck with her now. You know, from this angle, she looks almost human."

You all glance behind you, but thankfully, her face is still buried in the case file.

"Emily didn't come in today, either," you point out, turning to the empty seat next to you. "We're down two agents, and Gideon's MIA."

Reid blinks, and you curse yourself for being so cavalier. You know how hard Gideon's absence has been on him.

He recovers quickly and leans in to the center console with a raised eyebrow. "Has Strauss ever even been out of the-"

A chorus of shushes come from Derek and JJ and he shuts up as Strauss walks down the aisle and sits across from you all. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's protocol to brief everyone before we arrive at the crime scene?"

JJ turns red and she nods hastily, opening her file. "Yes, ma'am."

Strauss has only been here for ten minutes and you already want to strangle her. JJ explains the case details succinctly, and when the plane lands, you all head over to the crime scene to find Detective Wolynski, who called your team in when the murders got out of hand.

Within minutes of meeting them, Strauss manages to ruin your relationship with the local police by questioning their decision to wait so long to call in the BAU. JJ immediately takes matters into her own hands as she explains that we have to work with them if we want to be included in the investigation at all, but she doesn't seem to care.

You get a call from Penelope as you're heading back to the SUVs, and you step aside to get out of Strauss's earshot. "What's up, Pen?"

"I tried everything I could," she wails. You can hear the distinct clicking of her keyboard in the background. "I tried to convince him to stay, but he's so stubborn."

You sigh, glancing over at the scene, where Strauss looks positively nauseous. You can empathize with her emotions, because you know how hard it was for you to see your first crime scene in person, but this just further proves how unfit she is to understand what being on this team really means. "If he made up his mind, there's gonna be no changing it, unless he changes it himself."

She huffs, before audibly perking up. "I gave him the Milwaukee case file before he went home, and I also, uh, saw that his transfer hasn't passed through the system yet."

You're almost certain she had something to do with that, but your mind immediately starts going through the possibilities of what this could mean. If his transfer isn't in the system, then that means he technically still works on this team...which means him not being here is in dereliction of duty. If there's anything that can convince Hotch to show up, it's duty.

"You've been more help than you know," you tell her, before hanging up and hopping into the SUV.

***

When he arrived at his house with the case file Garcia gave him, he immediately stuffed it in his bag and tossed it onto the floor. He definitely didn't think about reading it the entire time he was changing out of his suit, and making a quick lunch for Haley and himself. When she went upstairs to put Jack down for his nap, he couldn't help himself any longer.

Reaching into his bag, he pulls out the file and flips it open slowly, being careful to angle the gruesome photos away from the stairs in case Haley came down without him noticing. Women taken in the afternoons and killed. Bodies dumped in the morning. Hearts cut out of their chests. The words pop out at him as he skims the page, and he's so engrossed in the material that he doesn't hear her until she's standing over him. "I thought this was over."

"It is," he sighs, closing the file. "I'm just curious." He doesn't know when he started lying to his wife, but he doesn't like it. The bitter taste of it in his mouth.

He can see her gearing up for a fight when their home phone rings. He picks it up and clicks the button to answer, but even after saying 'hello' a couple of times, no one responds. For a split second, his mind flashes back a year to the Fisher King and the secret message left on his home phone, but he pushes the thought away.

He clicks the phone off, looking up at Haley again, but then a shrill ringing sound starts again, this time from her purse across the living room.

An unfamiliar queasiness fills his stomach, and he maintains eye contact with her as her eyes flicker back and forth a couple of times. He promised himself he would never profile his family, but the analyses come before he can shut off that part of his brain. Shifting eyes. Rigid posture. All indications of lying and shame.

"What did the Section Chief say?" she asks, her hands going to her hips. Stance of power to overcompensate for-

He shakes the line of thinking from his head. "She suggested that I transfer to a white-collar-crime task force."

"Would you have to travel?"

"No, I'd have a nine-to-five life."

She nods, and he can see the finality in her stance. "Then, it's a no-brainer."

***

You haven't been able to focus as well as you'd like to with the knowledge that Hotch isn't coming back hanging over your head. When you get a spare moment at the station, you step out of the conference room where all of the evidence has been scattered around and press the first number on your speed dial.

"Hello?" It's Haley.

You stumble over your words as you say 'hello' back. You weren't expecting it to be her who answered. She clearly wasn't expecting you either, because she sighs dramatically when she hears your voice and you hear a quiet "It's Y/N" before the phone is handed over.

You can understand where she's coming from. When Jeff was about to start his undercover assignment, you were so angry at him for choosing to be away from you for so long. But then rationality won over, and you remembered why he was doing it...for the same reason you are.

"Hey."

He sounds guilty. You can imagine.

"Hey," you say simply, waiting for him to fill in the gaps. He owes you at least that much.

"I'm sorry," he says after a long pause, "but you knew this was coming. You know Haley hates what this job turns me into, and you know sometimes I hate it too."

That wasn't really the explanation you were expecting. Not willing to let him off the hook, you turn your face away from the conference room windows to hide your expression and lower your voice. "You should have told me, and you know it. That's why you're hiding behind this false justification...but I guess you know that too."

There's a small rustling sound over the receiver and you can imagine him running his hands through his newly cropped hair. "This doesn't change the fact that I'm leaving."

Sometimes you forget that he was once a young boy with an alarmingly developed moral compass that didn't always point in your direction. It's times like this that remind you.

"Fine." You feel like an irritable teenager again, but you can't contain yourself around him. Even when you want to hide a part of yourself, you can't.

"How's the case going?" he asks finally. His voice has gotten softer and you know he feels bad about how this call has been going, but with neither of you willing to concede, you decide to ignore it for now.

"Well, Strauss just offended the lead detective 45 seconds into her first crime scene."

He chuckles softly. "I'm not surprised."

"This isn't about to get any better, is it?" you ask, huffing out a forlorn sigh.

"I doubt it," he agrees. "I'll keep looking at the file from my end. Any idea how he's getting control of these women? Is he blitzing them or coercing them?"

"So far, we're coming up blank," you admit, glancing back at Morgan and Reid, who appear to be in a productive debate.

"All right. Keep me posted."

***

Another victim turns up and you're not any closer to figuring out who the unsub is. Derek steps away from the group a few minutes after you and you see him pacing the halls of the precinct, his phone pressed to his ear.

A break in the case comes when Garcia identifies school records of children who exhibit signs of perfectionism and co-dependence, leading you to a profile for the unsub. You're all listening to Garcia as she reads off the records when the door opens, with two figures standing in the entrance.

"Look who's here," Morgan grins, shaking Hotch's hand. Emily looks sheepish as she glances over at Strauss, who is downright fuming.

"How fast can you get us up to speed?" Hotch asks without another greeting.

Morgan scoffs. "How fast can you sit down?"

Strauss opens her mouth to say something, but Hotch beats her to it as he takes a seat next to you. You ignore the gesture. "We're only here to help."

She sighs. "We'll deal with this later."

With two more members back on the team, at least for the time being, the SUVs are split more evenly, and you join Emily, JJ, and Strauss in the first one as you head to the crime scene. Strauss is the first one to walk up to the scene, but the moment she sees the mangled body, she breaks down, her face contorting into a sob that she tries and fails to hold in.

You make a move to go and help her, but you're surprised when Hotch is the first to step in. "If you need a second, take a second. This is what it is. Just don't let the public see you break down."

He's so kind to her, even though she's the reason for all of his professional stress. You suppose she's not the only reason, but that isn't something you get to have an opinion on.

The devolution of the dump sites leads to an update of the profile, which gets you an address for a young boy who left school early with the nurse on duty. It doesn't take long to get to the house, and Derek and JJ coordinate some of the local police and SWAT as you strap on your kevlar vests.

After an initial argument about the probable cause of entering a house you don't know is dangerous, Emily pipes up with an idea. "Let me go in alone."

"Wait..." you start but she steamrolls over you, clearly needing to compensate for not being here before. "The boy's in the family room. He's looking for female authority figures. If he lets me in, I can signal as soon as I see anything that gives us cause."

"Technically, you're not even in the FBI," Reid points out.

She nods. "All the better."

Strauss steps in with a frown, to no one's surprise. "She's interfering with a federal investigation."

"Well, if I'm no longer in the FBI, then you have no authority over me." Emily shrugs and turns to Hotch for the approval she actually wants. "I'm just a civilian knocking on a little boy's door."

He nods and she pulls her hair back into a ponytail. Derek hands her his gun, and you suddenly remember that Hotch doesn't have his gun either. Reaching into your other side holster, you pull out your second firearm and hand it to him without a word. He doesn't lift his hand at first, but then he nods at you and takes the gun, his eyes filled with an earnest gratitude, and you know you've forgiven him.

Once she goes inside, you all wait in silence for the signal to breach the home. It takes almost too long, but eventually your earpieces fill with a loud beeping, and Derek yells "Go!"

You find her in a back room, where she's on the floor, her forehead bleeding from a thick gash. You enter just in time to see Hotch leap forward and take Emily's weapon from the little boy, before lifting him up and carrying him out of the house.

"I can't officially approve of how that transpired," Strauss says when you all come outside. You sit next to Emily and squeeze her hand as the paramedics patch up her forehead.

Hotch shakes his head, clearly done with the bureau politics. "The arrest was clean. It would be a mistake to break up this team."

She looks at him pointedly. "None of you will ever move up the chain of command, you know that."

"Why would I ever want to leave the BAU?"

You almost believe him. It's not that you don't think he wants to stay. You know he does. You just also know how much his family means to him, and how thin Haley's patience has worn.

Morgan asks if he means it, and he gives a vague answer that you expect, before turning to look at you.

"Here." He reaches into his waistband and pulls out your gun. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

His hand brushes yours when you take it back, and the warmth of his skin makes you shiver against the slight breeze. "You're welcome."

***

When he gets home, the lights are off.

"Haley?" he calls out into the empty silence. He tries to convince himself that he didn't see this coming, but after her last words to him before he left, it's a futile exercise.

"Make sure to give your son a kiss before you leave."

He left, even when she begged him not to. Now his wife has left, and she took their son with her, and once again, he is utterly alone.

***

Gideon's resignation comes through and you find yourself missing him more than you thought you would. If Hotch is the backbone of the team, he was the stoic foundation. He formed the roots of the BAU as a unit altogether, and you owe your life's work to his intelligence and foresight. But more than that, you can't help but remember the fact that out of all the members on the team, Gideon knew Jeff the best.

He attended countless lectures about past unsubs that Gideon put on at the academy, because he believed understanding why people do things was just as important as knowing how or what they were doing. He even went to Gideon's home for the occasional dinner, and he brought you along once after you got married.

You're not sure what the team will look like without his guiding hand, but you don't have to wait long to find out when JJ calls you with the notice that you're going to Portland.

Spencer is reading a piece of paper over and over again when you get to the office, and when you peek over his shoulder, you see the familiar scrawl of Gideon's handwriting.

Taking a deep breath, you reach forward to put your hand on his shoulder for a moment of comfort, but think better of it and pull back at the last second. Derek sees your indecision and cocks his head towards him.

You walk over to his desk and perch on its edge with a sigh. "I can't believe he would leave just like that."

"I can," Morgan shrugs, his eyes hard with contempt. When you shoot him a look, he softens. "I just mean that he's been showing signs of withdrawal for a while now. It still sucks for the kid, though."

You both look up at Reid across the aisle, where he is still scanning the letter. "At least he got a letter." You try to bring humor into your tone, but it doesn't work.

"It's not about us," Derek says gently, in a show of empathy for the older agent that is unfamiliar coming from him. "He did what he had to do to keep himself sane. We just have to let him."

You nod, just as JJ emerges from the hallway with Hotch on her heels. "We're starting the briefing."

***

"You must be the BAU."

A handsome man with a thick East Coast accent comes forward to introduce himself when you all enter the Portland field office. "Special Agent Bill Calvert."

"Hi, Jennifer Jareau," JJ smiles, extending her hand. "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner. This is Dr. Reid and Agents Morgan, Prentiss and L/N."

He smiles at each of you but his eyes linger on yours for a moment before he takes JJ's hand. "I appreciate your help on this case."

"You're from Boston?" you ask, trying to place his accent after having heard nothing like it since you landed. 

"The accent's kind of hard to miss in Oregon, right?" he grins, before reaching his hand out to you. "Agent L/N, was it?"

You shake his hand, shooting him a thin smile. You can already see Emily and JJ's smirks behind your back.

"We'd like to take a look around Jenny Wittman's apartment," Hotch steps in, moving forward to stand beside you.

Calvert nods. "I'd take you myself, but I'm waiting to meet her family, so I'll have another agent drive you."

"Thank you." Hotch rushes off with Reid and Morgan, and you stay back with JJ and Prentiss to work the victimology.

"Can we set up in here?" you ask Calvert as you start moving the boxes of case files and evidence onto the conference room table.

"Of course," he says, before leaving the three of you alone.

The first ten minutes of looking through the evidence is silent, and for a second, you nearly let yourself believe the other women won't bring up the elephant in the room, but then JJ lets out an involuntary giggle and they pounce.

"He's definitely into you," she says, making no effort to hide her gaze as she unabashedly stares at Calvert through the window. You want to retort immediately, but after seeing her check her phone about a dozen more times a day than she usually does, you suspect she may actually know what she's talking about when it comes to love these days.

Emily nods, biting her lip. "He couldn't stop looking at you."

"You're profilers," you argue, tossing the file in your hand onto the table. "You notice all kinds of insignificant stuff."

"So are you," JJ points out. "What do you think, then?"

They have you boxed in, and you can't think of any answer that would sufficiently appease them so you just groan.

"She's into it, too," JJ grins at Emily, who replies with, "I can't believe Y/N's gonna date someone from Portland."

Without thinking, you huff. "He's from Boston." All three pairs of eyes widen as you realize your slip in not denying her statement.

Emily laughs. "Ohh, it's so happening!"

***

When the men return from Jenny Wittman's apartment, Hotch instructs JJ to televise a statement warning possible future victims who fit the unsub's victimology. When Emily and Derek later find an ad hung up in a local laundromat that suggests he's been killing for longer than you'd previously thought, you decide to head back to the trail where the first bodies were found.

When you arrive on the scene, a dozen new bodies have been found further down the trail and near the water.

"How did we miss this before?" you think out loud, not realizing that Calvert has come up behind you.

"The trail's 40 miles long."

You jump when you hear his voice, and he apologizes after a small chuckle. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Special Agent Calvert," you say, your voice slightly airy as you catch your breath. "No need to apologize."

"Okay," he smiles, turning to stand in front of you, "and you can call me Bill."

He's a good looking man, and you don't dislike the feeling of someone showing interest in you, especially as clearly intelligent and qualified as him.

"Sure," you say, returning the smile. "I'm Y/N, btw."

"That's a pretty name," he says, his eyes glinting with mischievousness, before he turns back to the scene before you. "They dug up eight new graves before you got here."

You frown. "So the unsub didn't stick to the pattern."

"Guy had a busy year."

You nod, pondering what this change in M.O. could mean, when Bill interrupts your thoughts. "I'm interested to hear more about how this profiling thing goes."

You give him a quizzical smile, and his lips quirk up. "I took a class in criminal psychology in college, but I don't remember enough to be useful in this area."

"We observe human behavior," you explain, ignoring the subtle smirk Emily is flashing you from behind his back. "Profiling is about making connections and predicting future actions based on history, victimology, and behavior."

He takes a moment to digest your words before huffing out a laugh. "Sounds to me like we called in the right team."

When another agent comes by to ask him about the crime scene procedure, you take your leave and walk up the hill of mulch by the open graves. You are nearly to the SUV when you spot Morgan beelining towards you.

"Not you too," you sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically as you stalk away from him.

He catches up to you easily and throws an arm over your shoulders with a grin. "I'm not gonna give you the giggly girl talk that JJ and Prentiss clearly have covered. I just wanted to say one thing."

You look at him expectantly and he brings you both to a stop by the cars. "You're a catch, L/N." You start to roll your eyes again, but he shakes his head. "You are, so if you want to have a little no-strings-fun, then I'll have your back through and through."

You have no idea what no-strings-fun would look like, but you glance back at Bill, who is speaking animatedly with another agent about the change in digging patterns of the graves.

"I don't know what I want," you admit as Derek drops his arm and turns to face you.

"That's okay," he says, before the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "But figuring that out can be just as much fun too."

***

He would be lying if he said he hasn't noticed you talking to the Special Agent on the case. Calvert, he remembers as he thinks back to the capture and subsequent suicide of the unsub from the roof of his old therapist office.

They were able to find the final victim before she died, so even with the unsub's death, the case feels like a victory, and the whole team looks light on the way back to the jet.

He has been trying to keep himself light too, but every time he gets a moment to himself, his mind reverts back to the silent darkness of his home after he returned from the last case. The reminder that he hasn't seen Haley or Jack in days.

When he reaches the tarmac, he spots you talking to Calvert again, but the conversation looks different than before. The special agent looks nervous, and he tries to gauge whether you seem comfortable, before realizing how relaxed you look.

When he gets closer, he catches the end of a question that likely started with "Can I have your number?" You smile at the man, and he turns away, trying not to eavesdrop.

He can't tell what he wants you to say. He knows it's been enough time since Jeff's death that real dating isn't out of the question, but he can't reconcile the protective instinct flickering in his gut.

Regardless of the distance he tried putting between you and himself, your voice carries over the tarmac, and he hears you say, "I'm sorry." before the rest of the sentence gets jumbled in the breeze. Something that feels alarmingly like relief settles in his chest and he frowns at the foreign feeling of it coursing through his veins.

He boards the plane and purposefully chooses a seat with an empty spot next to it, knowing you'll choose to sit beside him after he practically ignored you all day. He really wasn't trying to shut you out, he just doesn't know how to broach the topic of separation with anyone, let alone someone who had as stable a marriage as you did.

When you board the jet and take your seat next to him, he glances over at you sheepishly and murmurs, "I overheard the end."

He's surprised when you laugh lightly. "It's okay. Everyone was going to find out soon enough, especially with how excited Prentiss and JJ were about it."

He nods, glad that you aren't angry about his invasion of your privacy. Then, before he can stop himself, he looks at you and asks, "You didn't want to see him again?"

"I don't think I'm looking to just date for dating's sake anymore," you explain, your eyes flitting around the cabin at the sleeping forms of the rest of the team. "I had a true love...I don't want to settle down again for anything less."

He understands that completely, but he can tell there's something else bothering you, and not just because of the rhythmic bouncing of your knee that you don't seemed to have noticed. "What else?"

You shrug, not meeting his eye. "I used to have my usual excuse, but I can't really say it's too soon anymore, can I?"

He frowns as he notices the visible strain on you that this burden has caused. "You get to decide that for yourself."

"I know," you sigh, rubbing your eye with a loose fist. "I just worry sometimes that I use Jeff as an excuse to keep myself closed off." Your knee stills, and Hotch scoots closer, even with the armrest in the way.

"You don't seem closed off to me."

Your eyes crinkle with laughter. "I'm not sure if that means much coming from you. You're not exactly the picture of openness, Hotch."

He knows you're mostly joking, but your read punches him in the gut in a way he doesn't expect. You must see the shock on his face, because you immediately lean in closer. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, trying to delay for as long as he can. If he doesn't say it out loud, maybe he can pretend that he's still a happily married man. That he didn't fail his wife and son by being as absent as he had wished his father had been, early in his life.

"It's not about Gideon leaving, is it?" You scrutinize him for a moment before shaking your head. "No. Hotch, what's the matter?"

"We agreed not to profile each other," he sighs, gritting his teeth against the pain of having to vocalize one of the lowest moments in his life.

"Aaron," you whisper. Your voice is soft and gentle, and he breaks.

"Haley left."

Your mouth parts in surprise, and he looks down at his lap, taking a deep breath. "And I don't know if she's coming back."

***

You've been waiting in the arrivals lot of the airport for almost an hour. You're assuming his flight got delayed, and you're grateful for the time to get yourself ready to see him, but the wait hasn't made your jitters any better.

You haven't seen Hotch since you left for college last year, and with his pre-law internship that he somehow snagged as a first year, it was a lonely summer.

When he called you last week with profuse apologies for not staying more in touch and a somber tone that had to be about more than his regrettable phone habits, you had told him that you would love to see him, but your winter break doesn't start for another month. After a few hushed breaths and a second of thinking, he told you that he had bought a plane ticket out to California for the following weekend.

That's why it's Friday afternoon, and you're still waiting for his familiar mop of dark hair to appear through the exit doors. A boy walks out right then, with the same raven hair and fit stature, and your heart rate hastens for a split second, before you realize it's not him.

You look down at your car's radio and twist the dial to change the station. It's been playing the same Madonna song nonstop, and you shut off the volume when the other stations are no different. Your shift in focus takes your attention away from the airport exit, so you jump in your seat when a quiet knock sounds at your passenger side window.

He's here. Your lips curve up into a bright smile and you unlock the door, letting him get in.

"Hi," you say, your voice weaker than you'd like.

"Hey, Y//N," he replies, pushing his long hair back from his face. The simple motion sets off butterflies in your stomach and you turn back to your steering wheel to keep your emotions off your face. He could always read you so easily. "It's good to see you."

He grins at you and leans forward to give you a quick, awkward hug over the center console. You involuntarily inhale as he pulls back, and the scent of his natural musk mixed with whatever new cologne he's been wearing smells dreamy on him.

You said you were over it, you tell yourself in your head. He has a girlfriend who he's going to marry, and you are his best friend. At least you were.

You don't really know where things stand between you two now. A year is a long time to go without seeing someone, and you're sure college has changed him in similar ways that it has changed you.

"I have one more class today," you say quickly as you pull your car out of the lot. "It's criminal psychology, so I figured you wouldn't mind coming to the lecture with me."

"Sounds fun," he says, before leaning his cheek against the window to watch the scenery that zips by. "God, the weather here is crazy."

"It's definitely warmer than I'm used to," you agree, struggling not to glance over at him. "We never had 70 degree winters growing up."

"Which do you prefer?"

You grin. "Home, of course."

"Of course."

You look at him then, and his expression is one you don't understand. It's the same look he gets when he's in the library and he finds a book he's been looking for.

The drive doesn't take long, and you bring him to your lecture, where he proceeds to pay more attention to the information being presented than you do. The class usually feels too short for you, but today, the time ticks by, because you can't focus.

It's been so long since you've sat next to him in a class, and the sight of him jotting down notes on a scrap piece of paper takes you back to high school, when he was still the more attentive one.

After the lecture, you both grab a quick dinner in the dining hall and settle back into your double dorm room, which you painstakingly cleaned up before he arrived.

"So, how long have you guys been friends?" your roommate, Katy, asks him as he drops into your desk chair. You've been watching her ogle him since he arrived, and if he's still as perceptive as he was in high school, it hasn't escaped his notice either.

"Forever," he says, looking at you with a grin. "We met when we were eight. When she judged my taste in The Beatles, it was over for me."

You can't help the heat that flames in your cheeks, even though you know this story by heart. Katy keeps glancing over at you as he explains how you guys met, and eventually she gets up and flops down onto your bed next to you. "You're bringing him to the party tonight, right?"

Your eyes widen as you remember that was today. "Oh, I don't know. We might just stay in."

"You have to come!" she squeals, shaking your arm. She turns to him with a pointed look. "We already have outfits picked out."

"I guess we gotta go, then," he smiles at her, before looking at me with a small raise of his eyebrow. You okay with that?

You dip your chin into a nod, and he stands up. "I'll head out for a walk as you guys get ready."

"Sounds good!" Katy says, grabbing your hand and sliding off the bed. "We'll see you in an hour."

Once the door closes behind him, Katy turns to you, her mouth agape. "You never told me how cute he is."

"What?" you sputter, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

"You also didn't tell me you're, like, in love with him."

You scoff involuntarily, your usual diversion technique when someone brings up a topic you want to evade. "What are you talking about?"

"Okay," she shrugs, reaching into your closet and tossing you the dress you were planning to wear. "If that's how you want to play it."

You go into your attached bathroom to change into your outfit, but after seeing Hotch, the mini sundress you picked out feels like too much. You hate how much you're overthinking something as stupid as an outfit for a party.

You turn away from the mirror and go back into your dorm, where Katy is applying her signature shade of red lipstick in her little mirror stand.

"He has a serious girlfriend," you whisper, almost too quiet for her to hear you. But she is more perceptive than you give her credit for. "Like eventual marriage-serious."

"Oh, honey," she coos, patting the bench seat next to her. You scoot in until you're side by side and she wraps an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay," you shake your head, leaning on her shoulder. "I just need to get over it. It's a stupid crush that I've had since high school, but it's time. Maybe this party will help."

"Yes, exactly!" she grins, turning her head to look at you. "Nothing that a little music and a few shots can't fix."

"A few shots?" you laugh.

She nods. "Each."

~

You down another shot of whiskey before tossing your cup onto the table and following Katy onto the dance floor. She grinds against her boyfriend as you dance beside them, moving your hips side to side with the rhythm of the music.

Being in Los Angeles, the temperature outside is already warmer than it should be in November, but inside the house, your dress is sticking to your skin from the sweat and body heat surrounding you.

You're feeling the alcohol enough to have a good time even in the sweaty throng of bodies around you, and you throw your head back as you close your eyes and feel the thump of the music vibrating the floor boards.

Meanwhile, Hotch can't find you anywhere. He's drunk enough already that he knows he won't be able to find you himself, but he doesn't know anyone else here, so he grabs a half empty bottle from the drinks table and makes his way to the dance floor, where the life of the party seems to be centered.

He's usually a lot more fun at parties, but lately he hasn't felt like himself. Ever since you left for school across the country, it has felt like something in his life was wrong, like he was missing a limb. Then, things started looking up with Haley, and he pushed you away in the hopes that he would forget about any of the doubts he had, but it didn't work. The more he missed you, the worse things got in his relationship, and suddenly he wasn't sure what his life was supposed to look like anymore.

He takes another swig from the bottle and leans back against the counter as he watches people dance against each other in the dim light of the house. His eyes flicker over the mess of bodies until they catch on someone he almost doesn't recognize.

Your eyes are closed and your hands are in the air as you move to the beat. It's not exactly graceful music, but you have managed to find some semblance of a rhythm as you slide your hands down your thin dress, which is sticking to your body in a way he can't take his eyes off of.

He doesn't realize he has lifted the bottle to his lips again until the liquid is burning his throat, and he tears his eyes away from you as his head starts to spin. Maybe he's had enough for tonight. He puts the bottle down just as your roommate spots him. Katy, he thinks, or is it Sadie?

"Aaron!" she calls, stumbling over to him as a man holds her up with an arm around her waist. "Where's Y/N?"

"Not sure," he lies easily, barely conscious of the way his words have started to slur together. "I may head out soon."

"Don't leave without her," she instructs, her voice suddenly getting serious. "I'm staying with him tonight." She pats the man's arm. "So I won't be going back with her."

He nods with a resigned sigh, and slumps down on a couch in the next room, leaning his head back to stop the room from spinning.

~

When you tire of dancing, you push to the back of the crowd and look around to find any familiar face. You can't see Katy or her boyfriend anywhere, but after exiting the room, you spot Hotch asleep on the couch.

You walk forward with a slanted smile and put your hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. "Hotch, get up."

He groans, peeling his eyes open slowly. "I'm awake. Just resting my eyes."

"Yeah, yeah," you tease, looping your arm through his to help him up. "How much did you drink?"

He shrugs and you wrap your arm around his waist to hold him upright as he stumbles forward. "Whoa there. Okay, let's get you back."

You manage to get him out of the house, and once the fresh air hits, he can almost stand up straight on his own. You keep your arm around him just in case, trying to ignore the way his tee shirt is slowly riding up around his waistband.

You make the walk back in silence, and he falls back onto your bed as you lock the door behind you.

"I'm sorry," he whispers when you perch on the edge of the bed next to him.

"It's okay," you say, huffing out a laugh. He looks so young with his hair falling onto his face, and you resist the urge to push it back off his forehead. "Happens to the best of us."

"No, not that." He rolls over with a groan, flopping onto his back and scooting back so he can lay on your pillow. "I'm sorry I stopped calling."

Your heart skips a beat and you tuck your hair behind your ear, needing to occupy your hands somehow as your mind races with a million questions. "It's my fault too."

"No, it's not."

He isn't slurring his words anymore, but you can still hear the earnestness that only comes when one's filter is completely shattered. He was never one to hide things from you, but you also know how truthful people can get when alcohol takes their mask away.

"Haley and I have been having problems for a while," he mutters, making you sigh. So that's why he flew here in the middle of the school year. "We haven't been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things, and we decided to take a break, but I haven't told anyone, because the only person I wanted to tell was you."

You can't look at him. His gaze is too much, his eyes too full of truth and intensity. "Hotch-"

"I miss you so much," he says, cutting you off. "You're the only person I've ever really been able to talk to, but you know that, don't you? It's the same for you, it has to be."

You don't say anything. The air feels thick with tension, and you're afraid that if you say something, the room will explode.

"She's the perfect girlfriend," he says wistfully, his voice tight with an emotion you can't decipher. "I know it's me who's fucking it up, and I hate myself for it, because she's trying so hard to make this work. But every time it feels perfect, and I think I've finally gotten what I wanted, I just remember-"

"Aaron."

You look at him and his eyes are already staring into yours. You have wanted him to love you the way you loved him for years, but not like this. Never like this.

"You can't fuck this up," you whisper, your voice stronger than you expect it to be. "Call Haley tomorrow morning. Tell her you're sorry, and that you love her, because you do. You know you do."

"I love her," he nods as sleep pulls his eyelids down. "Tomorrow..I'll call her."

You watch him as his limbs relax and his breathing evens out, but you don't fall asleep until the sun starts to rise and you physically can't keep your eyes open anymore.

***

"Happy All Hallow's Eve, folks."

Reid pulls his mask off as Derek looks at him with a frightened frown.

"Are you scared of Halloween?" you ask him, trying to keep the grin off your face.

"I didn't say I was scared," he corrects, glancing over at Reid, who drops his mask on his desk and pushes his hair back from his face, "I said I was creeped out."

"What creeps you out about it?" Emily asks, before grinning at you.

"I bet it's the candy," you joke. "Those muscles probably cower at the sight of anything that isn't meat or protein powder."

Emily snorts and Derek frowns at both of you. "It's the masks. I don't like people in disguises."

"That's the best thing about Halloween," Reid chimes in. "You can be anyone you want to be."

Derek grins. "No, I'm pretty good just being me."

You and Emily share a look. "Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?"

"Guys," Reid suddenly calls out, his voice hushed. "He's here."

You turn around to see Hotch walking down the stairs, accompanied by Agent David Rossi, who you've heard a lot about in your years at the bureau. He was one of the founding members of the BAU, and you can't help but wonder what made him want to come back.

JJ introduces him to everyone, before Reid starts spouting off a list of facts from one of the old cases he solved when he was the chief of the unit.

"Reid, slow down," Hotch says with an uncharacteristic smile. "He'll be here for a while. Catch up with him later."

He nods. "Right, sorry."

Agent Rossi doesn't seem fazed. "No problem, Doctor."

This pleasantly surprises you. It's all too often that new people who meet Spencer don't immediately treat him with the respect he deserves.

"Let's start the briefing."

***

The flight back from Texas is hushed. The case went about as well as you could hope, with them catching the unsub and saving the final victim, but the way Rossi went rogue over and over again has rubbed you the wrong way.

You watch him across the cabin as he pores over his little notebook, and you wish you could peek inside his head. You know that the team aspect of the BAU is a newer addition to the unit, but you don't understand how he can keep all of his thoughts to himself.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Gah," you fright, jumping in your seat. "When did you sit next to me?"

Hotch shrugs, his lip quirking up. "A few minutes ago."

"Well, you should really wear a bell or something, god."

"Y/N," he says, giving you a pointed look. He doesn't let you use your evasion tactics anymore. Given your penchant for aimless talking, you suppose that's a good thing.

"I was just thinking about Rossi," you sigh, glancing up at him again. "Lying to the press to get a reaction from the unsub? Taking over that phone call? I don't like how he works, Hotch."

"He's from a different time," he says, even though you can hear the agreement in his voice, "but he worked with Gideon, and if you remember, it took you a while to warm up to him too."

You heave out a breath but it's the only concession you're willing to give in this moment.

"He's used to an older way of doing things, but he's a great agent."

"He clearly has good ideas," you whisper, "but I just worry that you'll have to work over time to keep him under control."

Hotch ponders this, and you think that maybe he knows you're right. Your eyes shift up and you realize his hair has been shorter for a while now, but you're still not used to seeing so much of his forehead. Not that there's anything wrong with his forehead. It's a fine forehead.

"He was the team leader before he retired," Hotch says suddenly. "He may be tough as a subordinate now, but I'm still glad he's back. We needed someone to fill Gideon's spot, we were low on hands."

"Speaking of, why do you think he's back."

He looks at you with a quizzical frown. "Is it really so hard to believe that he may just want to help us out?"

You think for a second, before shrugging. He laughs.

"I don't know," you concede, with a small chuckle. "I think I'm just expecting things from him that aren't fair."

He turns his body to face you. "Like what?"

You press your lips together, trying to formulate your words properly, so you can clearly articulate the tornado of thoughts in your brain. "I know Gideon wasn't a father figure exactly, but he was someone that Reid and Elle latched onto."

Hotch exhales. "I don't know if Gideon is someone I'd want as a father."

You let out a surprised laugh. "Fair enough."

"How is your father doing, by the way?"

You blink in surprise. It's not that he doesn't talk about your family, it's just that the timing is uncanny. You haven't spoken to him in months. After your mom died, you two were almost inseparable, but then you left for school, and you realized how much bigger the world could be when you weren't always bogged down by your grief. "I haven't called him in a while."

"What did he say after Golconda?" he asks, his voice gentle. After Frank, he means.

You close your eyes, guilt flooding your body. "I never told him."

"What?" You don't look at him, but you can see the shock in the stiff line of his posture. "Did something happen between you two?"

You shake your head, your protectiveness over your family flaring up at the concern in his eyes. "Nothing happened. I just didn't want to worry him."

"That's his job," Hotch stresses, scooting his leg over so his knee bumps yours. "If something like that had happened to Jack, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

"That's what I'm scared of," you tell him, your eyes flitting over to the window, where the clouds are dancing across the horizon. Sometimes, when you're on the jet, you like to pretend that the time up here isn't real. That as long as the world looks like a series of splotches and blinking lights, nothing can really hurt you. "My mom's death nearly killed him. I learned to cook when I was ten, because he couldn't leave his room for a month." Hotch knows all of this already, but he lets you vocalize your thoughts, obviously knowing how badly you need reassurance for the guilt you're feeling. "Then, when Jeff died, I stayed with him for a few weeks to have some company, but...but.. I was so glad when I left, because then I could finally let myself fall apart."

He reaches under the armrest and clasps your hand in his, extending the comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I've never told anyone that," you whisper, feeling your voice tighten with tears. "I love my dad, I love him so much, but I just needed the chance to recover on my own."

"He loves you too," Hotch says, finally breaking his silence. "You know he loves you. I still remember the themed sandwich baggies that he packed your lunch with all through middle school."

You choke out a laugh. "You would always steal the Spiderman ones."

He smiles, squeezing your hand once. "Maybe you just need to give him another chance to be who you want him to be. He might just surprise you."

You know he's right. Somehow, he's always right.

You nod, flashing him a small smile, and lean your head on his shoulder as the clouds float past your window.

***

He glances at his watch for the tenth time since he sat down in his office. The plane landed just over an hour ago, and he sent you home immediately with the instruction to get some rest. He probably should have gone home too, but ever since he got his new apartment, home hasn't felt the same.

He used to be able to look around any corner and see a memory: the couch where he and Haley made love on their first night at home, the soft carpet where Jack took his first steps, the doorframe where he measured his height on his first birthday as Haley held him up by the arms. He also remembers that he wasn't there to see Jack's first steps; he was in Pittsburgh, working a case and thanking his lucky stars that Haley had had the foresight to take a photo as his son stood upright all by himself.

He lifts the picture frame from the edge of his desk, running his fingers over the cool glass and looking at the blue drawing underneath. Jack had drawn his favorite cartoon character and left it for him on the kitchen table, a few nights before his suspension went into effect.

Putting it back down, he looks at the photograph of him holding onto Haley as she clutches newborn Jack to her chest in the hospital. He still has the photo of just him and her on their wedding, but he pushed it to the back, behind the pictures of Jack, and the one of you and him at law school graduation.

A knock sounds at his door and he looks up to see Dave standing in his doorway. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," he says, waving him in. He doesn't sit down, so Hotch stands up too, unsure of how he feels about the power imbalance in the room. "What can I do for you?"

"You said out there, 'The team shares everything.'"

He nods. "That's right."

"There is no 'I'?"

He nods again, not liking where this may be going.

Dave glances down at his desk, where his phone sits next to the picture frame of his family. "Seems a big thing to withhold. Separating from your wife, your child."

He freezes, unconsciously looking at the door to see if anyone heard. "What are you talking about?"

"You used to call Haley 10 times a day," Dave says, his voice not unkind. "We've been together 48 hours and I haven't seen you call her once. You haven't mentioned her, and you're not going home now."

He frowns, feeling his brow settle into place like it's a uniform he wears whenever he's at the office. "What's your point?"

"I guess you're just not used to sharing."

He doesn't say anything, but Rossi seems to interpret this the wrong way. "Or maybe it's something else." He looks out the window at the empty bullpen, but the implication is still clear. "Was it because of...?"

"What?" He doesn't know where this is coming from, but he can't stop the anger that rumbles through him at the connotation. Unable to help it, he looks down at your desk, and Dave tuts.

"I won't say anything."

"Dave," he shakes his head, trying to remain calm. "You have it all wrong. She's my best friend...since we were children. It isn't like that. It was never-"

It was never like that. That's what he's about to say, but that wouldn't be true. Rossi is a good enough profiler that he would be able to spot a lie from a mile away, so he shuts his mouth and shakes his head again. "It's not like that."

"Okay," he accepts, lifting his hands in surrender. "My mistake."

Hotch nods, and Dave leaves his office, but he can't get their conversation out of his head until later that night when his head hits his pillow and his eyes finally fall shut.

***

"Hey, Dad."

You called him when you got home from work that night, and he answered on the second ring. "Hi, sweetheart."

"How are you?" you ask, clutching the phone to your ear as you sink down onto the couch in your living room.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and you can hear him taking a breath. "I'm good, Y/N, how are you? Is work going well?"

"It's good," you tell him. "Really good. We were able to save a woman today, before the unsub could kill her."

"Unsub?"

"Unknown subject," you explain, quickly realizing just how long it's been since you've spoken to him. "It's what we call the bad guy before we know who he is."

"Right," he says, and you can practically see him rubbing a hand over his face, his nervous tic. "I knew that. Anyway, how is everything in your life? Do you still work with Aaron?"

"Yeah, I do," you say with a laugh. "He was actually asking about you earlier today."

"That's nice of him," your dad says, his voice brightening slightly. "He was always a good friend to you."

You tell him about your most recent case, and about Gideon and Elle leaving the team, but eventually you can't evade the topic you've been trying to avoid all night.

You're okay, you think to yourself. Frank can't hurt you anymore.

"Dad," you whisper, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. In 1, 2, 3. Out 1, 2, 3. "I have something to tell you."

Then you tell him everything, and he just listens, exactly like you hoped he would.

***

"I met this guy." You didn't even see Penelope approach you, but here she is, looking at you like she's about to say something dirty.

"Hell yeah," you grin, trying to match her energy. "Where?"

"A coffee shop," she smirks. "He was having trouble with his computer, so I fixed it for him, and then he asked for my number."

"Look at you," you joke, giving her a side squeeze, "putting your technical analyst skills to good use."

"Thank you," she huffs, throwing an annoyed glance over her shoulder. "That's more of the response I was looking for."

"What do you mean?"

"Derek," she says simply, and you nod, already knowing where she's going with this. You know they have an uncommon relationship, so you're not surprised that he didn't react exactly how she hoped he would.

"He's an idiot," you tell her, patting her arm.

She laughs. "You don't even know what he did."

"Uh, yeah," you say, turning around to face the bullpen, "I definitely do."

***

The case takes the team to Florida, where an unsub has been feeding women their fingers, killing them, and then carving pentagrams in their skin.

The pentagrams suggest a religious element, so you go with JJ, Morgan, and Rossi to the local church to meet with the priest.

"Rossi, do me a favor," Morgan says just before you walk inside. "You talk to the priest, all right?"

You remember his agitation on the jet when Reid prodded him about his beliefs, and given the cruelty of his childhood, a crisis of faith wouldn't surprise you.

"Hi, Father Marks," JJ greets the priest when you enter the church. She introduces all of you to him, before shaking his hand. "We're sorry we have to be here under these circumstances."

"It's good of you to come," he says, greeting all of you. "Abbey's parents are upstairs in my office."

"We'll go up," Rossi says with a nod, "but Agent Morgan actually has some questions for you."

Your eyes flash to Rossi, but he doesn't return your gaze.

"I have some questions too," you offer, and Derek nods gratefully.

The priest answers the few questions Derek spits out at him, and you watch as his eyes wander around the hall, his shoulders raised with tension. You insert a few of your own questions before heading outside with him to wait for JJ and Rossi to finish up with the victim's parents.

"What happened in there?" you ask when he doesn't meet your eye. "Being rude to Father Marks? That wasn't like you."

"You know what happened to me, L/N," he says angrily, kicking his foot out at a loose stone on the pavement. "I went to church everyday, and I prayed for it to stop, but you know what God did? Nothing."

"I know what a crisis of faith looks like, Derek." You stand in front of him, forcing him to look at you. "But Father Marks doesn't know your story. He's not judging you, he's just showing his faith how he knows best."

His shoulders are still tense as his jaw twitches. "Who does Rossi think he is, throwing me under the bus like that?"

"He's an instigator," you shrug, letting the topic slide for the time being. You'll talk to him again later if he still needs it.

"I didn't love the way Gideon did things either," Derek says, his posture going from agitation to annoyance, "but Rossi might just take the cake. Even if he is better with the victim's families."

"I can't help you there," you almost laugh. "I had the same conversation with Hotch after the case in Texas, and he managed to convince me to give the guy a chance. So...if you can't bring yourself to trust him, just think of it as putting your trust in Hotch."

Derek hums, bumping your shoulder with his. "I guess I can do that."

***

The search party for Tracey Lambert only leads to the unsub taking another woman, and suddenly the ticking clock gets a lot louder. By the time you find his lair and the bodies he has been cannibalizing for years, you're already struggling to keep down even the water you've been drinking. When he reveals where Tracey actually is, you feel so sick, you can't breathe.

When the jet lands back in Virginia, you go home immediately, desperately needing some peace and quiet away from the team for the first time in a while. But that doesn't last long.

You're awoken by the shrill ringing of your home phone. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you check the number and answer the phone. "Is this payback for the last time I called you past midnight?"

"Y/N...it's Garcia."

You shoot up into a sitting position as Hotch explains what happened. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know."

"I'm on my way."

You change into a sweater and a pair of loose jeans before grabbing your keys and flying out the door.

"She's in surgery," JJ tells you when you find them in the waiting room. She pulls you into a hug before returning to her hunched position in an uncomfortable vinyl chair.

"There's no other word," Hotch adds, giving you a quick hug as well. With his cheek pressed against your temple, he whispers, "Police think it may have been a botched robbery."

"Where's Morgan?" Emily asks, standing up from her chair.

"He's not answering his cell."

Reid nods, stepping away. "I'll call him again."

He squeezes your hand before he exits the waiting area, and you glance down at JJ again. Her eyes are red from crying, and her chin is pressed into her palm as she stares at the floor. You watch as Emily sits next to her and pats her hand, before clasping it in hers.

You don't realize you've been staring at the same spot on the floor until Hotch stands next to you and nudges your shoulder. You okay?

"I will be," you say out loud, barely registering that he didn't actually ask you anything. "As soon as she's out of surgery." When you got the call that Penelope was shot, you had been hit by an intense feeling of deja vu. Only this time, the call didn't come from bureau leadership, because she wasn't killed at the scene. Because she's going to make it.

He doesn't seem fazed as he checks his watch again, his frown lines deepening. "It shouldn't take this long to get an update."

"Where have you been?" Reid asks suddenly. You look up to see Derek walking into the waiting room, his eyes wide with panic.

"I was in church. My phone was off."

"There's nothing you could have been doing here," Rossi assures him, before nodding at Hotch and pulling him aside to discuss something with the deputies outside. You use the momentary lull to approach Derek, putting your hand on his arm as an initial test. When he doesn't jerk back, you pull him into a hug that he returns gratefully.

The doctor walks in a few minutes later and explains that Penelope will be fine, but she needs to rest until the morning.

"David and I will go to the scene," Hotch informs, his eyes fixing each of you with an empathetic look. "I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially, or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

When they leave, you pull Derek down into the chair next to you and lean your head onto his shoulder. After a beat, he relaxes in his seat, and lets out a long sigh. "She's okay."

***

Early the next morning, the doctor shakes you all awake with the notice that Penelope's up, so you rush into her room, trying not to crowd her as she blinks awake.

"Hi," she says softly, her voice small. She looks so innocent, laying in her hospital bed with her blonde hair a halo around her head. You can't imagine how anyone would want to hurt someone like her.

"No tears," she smiles as you swallow down your anger. "I'm afraid if I start crying, I'll come unstapled."

JJ presses a kiss to her cheek, before Derek and Emily start gently plying her with the usual questions. When it comes out that the man who shot her was the same man who asked her out at the coffee shop, your anger turns to anguish, and you reach forward to squeeze Penelope's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"I just thought he liked me," she whispers, the pain in her voice breaking your heart.

"We need a name," Emily asks abruptly. You can see her mentally kicking herself at how serious her words came out, but you know Penelope understands the gravity of this situation.

"James Colby Baylor."

She asks you and JJ to stay back for a second as the rest of the team leaves to investigate Baylor.

"What's up, honey?" you ask, smiling at her sweetly as she uses her other hand to take JJ's.

"I feel so stupid," she sighs, her breath turning into a gasp as tears fill her eyes. "Maybe Derek was right about all of it."

"No," JJ says sternly, reaching forward to brush some of her hair behind her ear. "None of this is on you."

"What she said," you echo, nodding at JJ, "and don't listen to Morgan. He loves you, and he's very protective over you, but he's also a man."

She sniffles out a laugh, before pressing her lips together. "One last thing."

JJ blinks. "Anything."

"Please don't talk about me like I'm a victim."

***

The case wraps up back at the office, where Baylor, whose real name is Deputy Battle, was shot in the head by JJ, who doesn't seem as plussed by the situation as you would expect. You tried to talk to her afterwards, but after telling you she was fine, she put all of her attention on Penelope, who has spent the last week recovering at home.

Now, you're sitting in the break room stirring your black coffee, just for something to do. Hotch finds you in there and walks inside, shutting the door behind him.

"It's been a long week," he grumbles, looking longingly at the spot next to you on the worn couch.

You lift your cup and nod your head at the full coffee pot. "That's what caffeine's for."

"We really should sleep at some point," he says, filling up a paper cup and carefully dropping into the spot beside you. The couch you chose is small enough that his thigh presses against yours when he spreads his legs even the slightest bit.

You snort. "Sleep's overrated."

You both sip your steaming coffees in silence as you watch the other agents shuffle back and forth across the bullpen, unaware of your watchful eyes. The break room is the one place in the office to go for a little bit of privacy, but the unobstructed view of everyone's desks isn't unpleasant either. You imagine this is how Hotch feels when he looks out his office window.

Your eye catches on the stapled wood planks that are currently replacing the broken glass door that leads into the bullpen. He must be looking at the same thing, because he breaks the silence and says, "I think we may need to get JJ out into the field more."

His tone catches you off guard and you crack a small smile. "She does seem remarkably well-adjusted, given that it was her first time."

He nods, turning his head to look at you. "Do you remember your first time?" Killing someone, is the part he doesn't say out loud.

"Of course." You take a deep breath and gulp back more coffee. "He was a serial rapist in Texas. One shot to the heart. I wasn't trying to kill him, he just ran at the last second."

"Serial killer in Florida," he responds simply. "Headshot. He died instantly."

"That was your first year at the BAU, right?" He nods and you sink back into the cushions. "I wasn't even in the field then."

He hums, a low sound that you feel as vibrations on your skin. "I worry that I brought you in here too early. Jeff had just died, and I assumed that getting you out of the house and in the field would take your mind off of things, but I wonder sometimes if I made the wrong call."

"You didn't," you assure him, turning your body to face his, even as he doesn't meet your eye. "First of all, you brought me in six months after he died, and by then, I definitely needed an excuse to leave my bedroom."

He sighs, a small concession, and you continue. "The first case I went into the field for after he died, I could barely hold my gun. Every time I pulled it on someone, I would imagine his body...with all of those bullet holes...and I would just freeze up. It took me months to pass my firearm certification again, but I still don't regret it."

"You sure?" he asks, his voice almost timid.

"Positive," you smile, nudging your thigh against his. "Besides, I didn't realize it until later, but it wasn't getting out into the field that helped me through my grief...it was meeting the team. These people became my family in the moment that I needed one most."

You turn back to your coffee and sip it again, though it's no longer as hot as you'd like it to be.

"How are you doing, by the way?" he asks suddenly. "With Garcia, I mean."

An involuntary shudder runs through you as you remember her pale face in her hospital bed last week, but the warmth of the coffee cup in your hands makes it pass quickly. "I'll never get used to it. But she's okay now, so hopefully it'll be easier this time."

***

You're jotting down notes in the margins of a new case file JJ asked you to look over when your cell phone rings. Hotch and Reid are at a nearby prison, interviewing a serial killer on death row for the Criminal Personality Research Project, so you're not expecting a call from either of them. The rest of the team, except for Rossi, is scattered around the bullpen, but you don't expect him to call you either.

After finishing the line you were writing, you check your phone and see a name you haven't spoken to in weeks.

"Haley," you answer after clicking open your cell. "Is everything okay?"

"I know you're busy," she sighs, her voice tight with what you can only decipher as irritation, "but I didn't know who else to call. Aaron hasn't been answering my phone calls."

You get up from your desk and step out into the hallway to get some privacy. "He and Dr. Reid are at a prison right now, interviewing a criminal for this research project. There likely isn't any cell service out there."

"It's not just today, Y/N," she says, her tone getting colder as she inadvertently directs her anger towards the only person she can get ahold of. "He hasn't been taking my calls for days."

"I can talk to him," you suggest, trying to keep your tone light in an effort to keep this conversation from derailing. "I'll tell him to give you a call."

"I appreciate that," she sighs, losing her steam. "I'm sorry for involving you, I just really need to speak with him about something."

"Is everything alright with you and Jack?" you ask her quickly, wanting to make sure that you aren't making the wrong assumptions about why she's calling.

"Oh!" she inhales sharply. "Yes, of course, we're doing great. Well, great maybe isn't the right word, I didn't mean- I just-" She sighs. "You know what I mean."

"I do," you assure her as your heart twists at the sound of her shallow breathing. You know how hard the separation has been on Hotch, but you know Haley too, and she has always been better at hiding her pain that she seems. "Where have you been staying?"

"With Jess," she says, her voice brightening considerably at the mention of her sister. "She's been a godsend. I feel terrible taking up so much of her space, but she doesn't seem to mind."

You smile, remembering the few times you met Jessica Brooks while Haley and Hotch were together. "She definitely doesn't mind. She always loved children. I bet she's already scheming on how to steal Jack from you."

Haley laughs, and the sound is like wind chimes twinkling in your ear. "She totally is."

Her laughter slowly fades, and you both stay on the line for a few moments in comfortable silence.

"I'll tell him to call you," you promise.

"I know," she sighs. "Thank you."

***

The prison was a bust, but Reid got a chance to use his intelligence to get them out of a tough spot without anyone getting hurt, so the day wasn't a total loss.

He is sitting in his office, drafting an email to the project coordinator, when you walk inside and take a seat in front of his desk.

"Thanks for knocking," he says sarcastically before finishing up the sentence he was working on. Once it's done, he saves the draft and turns off his computer. "How was Indianapolis?"

"Good," you say, leaning back in the chair. "Great, actually. Rossi got to close up the case that's been haunting him for a decade, and the three kids are finally safe."

"I'm surprised he wasn't more excited when he got back," he notes, watching your body language. You look wired, but not about this. Something else is bothering you.

"The unsub wasn't exactly the most gratifying arrest," you sigh, rubbing a hand over your temple. "We don't even think he committed the murders intentionally."

He frowns, shaking his head. "Those are the worst kind."

You're silent for a moment before you sit up straighter and look at him. "Haley called me this morning. While you were at the prison."

"Oh?" Something that feels like ice slithers down his spine even though he can probably guess exactly how the conversation went.

All week, he has felt an enormous weight on his chest in the form of a stack of divorce papers that Haley served him with. She had called him right after, with the explanation that they both should have seen this coming, but he really hadn't. He was a profiler, whose entire job was to notice and analyze human behavior, and he truly hadn't been able to let himself believe that this could be a possibility. That his marriage could actually be over.

"She said you've been ignoring her calls."

He had been ignoring them. He knew she would just tell him to sign the papers, and he couldn't bear to hear her say it again. Once was enough.

He reaches into his desk and pulls out the manila folder that he hasn't opened since his initial read-through. He suspects you already know what he's about to tell you, but he also knows that it won't feel real until he says it out loud. And it's about time he came to terms with what his life would be from now on. "Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers, uncontested."

"She doesn't want to involve a lawyer?" you ask, your voice delicate as you walk him through the explanation with clarifying questions. It's the technique they use when interviewing the families of victims, to help them feel comfortable as they talk about the hardest thing they've ever gone through. He's surprised at how reassuring it feels coming from you.

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. It has grown out a bit since he last cut it, but he doesn't think he minds. Haley wanted him to cut it short when Jack was in his grabbing and teething phase, but now, he likes how he can push it back when he wants. "I don't want to sign, of course, but she's adamant that we get this done soon."

"You'll be okay," you say, and he looks up in surprise. "You're a good man, Aaron."

"I'm not," he whispers, heaving out a sigh. "I'm not doing anything right. At home, I was an awful husband and an absent father, and at work, Strauss would replace me if she had even the slightest bit more ammunition. I can't focus in either place. Maybe Haley's right, maybe I'm just selfish."

You lean forward and grab his hand, even as he doesn't look at you. "You're not selfish. You're the farthest thing from selfish. You don't want to sign, but you will. You're giving her what she wants, even though it's the last thing you want."

He nods, but his heart isn't in it. He glances down at the folder again and takes a deep breath as you give him a small smile and stand up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, boss?"

He nods again. "See you tomorrow."

When the door shuts behind you, he flips open the folder, faster than he meant to, but he's afraid if he doesn't do this quickly he'll lose his nerve. Grabbing a random pen from the mug on his desk, he uncaps it and scrawls out his initials on all of the earmarked lines throughout the stack.

When he finishes the last page, he shuts the folder and leans back in his chair, letting out a long exhale. He did it. He supposes he should feel some sort of severing away of his old life, maybe an audible snap as the ties to his marriage get cut, but there's just silence.

His office suddenly feels stifling, and he loosens his tie before reaching forward and lifting the picture frame with him and Haley on their wedding day. Her smile still looks beautiful to him, and his content expression as he gazes at her doesn't make him feel anything different. Their marriage may be over, but he still loved her.

He runs his thumb over the smooth edge of the frame, and then opens his desk drawer, before sticking it inside and pushing it closed.

***

"Thank you for watching him," Hotch says, his voice slightly muffled over the phone.

"Of course," you smile, sitting down on your couch with the pasta you made for dinner. "It was my pleasure. Jack's a total sweetheart."

Jess was out of town for a couple of days, so he had asked you to watch Jack while he and Haley met up to finalize the divorce in front of an attorney. She had been adamant about finishing the process over the phone, but he wanted to ensure that she and Jack would be taken care of after the papers went through.

"Did he eat lunch?"

"Kind of," you say, quickly swallowing the bite you took. "He didn't want a full meal, but I got him to eat some fruit and bread with cheese."

"I'll make him a snack soon," he says quietly, but you can tell he's just thinking out loud. "Alright, I'll see you at the office. Thanks again."

"Always," you tell him, genuinely. "See you."

The phone clicks off and you scarf down the rest of your pasta before doing your dirty dishes and cleaning up your kitchen. You're considering whether to change into your workout clothes so you can crank out a few miles on your Peloton, but then you hear a knock on your door.

You're not expecting anyone, and with Hotch watching Jack, it can't be him. You peek around the corner into your foyer to see who's at the door, and relax when you spot a familiar mop of brown hair.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first," Spencer says when you open the door, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his book bag. "I just didn't know how to ask you this over the phone."

"Spence, what is it?" you ask, opening the door further to let him in. He doesn't step forward, and a pinprick of anxiety enters your system.

"If I come inside, I won't be able to do this," he says vaguely, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a flyer. He hands it to you and you read the title, the tension seeping from your body as the words sink in: Narcotics Anonymous for Law Enforcement.

"I know it's a lot to ask," he whispers, "but would you drive me to the meeting tonight?"

Your heart feels like it's about to crack open. Only a boy who was never looked after, never given the love and care he deserved, would think that something like this was too much to ask.

"It's not too much," you tell him, glancing down at the address. "I'll get my keys."

When he's settled in your passenger seat, you pull out of the driveway, not commenting on the fact that his car is parked on the street beside your sidewalk. You understand the need for company more than most people.

The drive to the rec center where the meeting is being held is mostly silent, but you don't press him. He stares down at his hands for most of the ride, and when you stop in front of the entrance, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you. "Thank you."

"Of course," you smile. "I can wait, if you'd like."

He gives you a thin-lipped smile. "It's okay."

"You sure?"

He presses his lips together and looks at you, his eyes reflecting the question in yours.

"Go on," you say, patting his arm. "I'll be here."

He nods and steps out of your car, and you pull into a parking space to wait in while he's in the meeting. You turn on the radio and it's the same song they've been playing for the last week, so you turn the volume down low and close your eyes for a few peaceful moments.

You must have fallen asleep, because you're jarred awake by the chirping sound of your cell phone ringing. It's a bureau number, so you clear your throat and answer the call. "L/N."

"Hey, Y/N." It's JJ, and she sounds tired. "We have a case. It's urgent, so we're flying to Texas tonight."

You sigh louder than you meant to. "I can be there in 20."

"See you soon."

The line clicks off and you rub the sleep from your eyes. A quick check of your watch tells you that you were only asleep for about a half hour, but that's just half of the meeting time. You know Spencer will come back when he gets the call, so you turn the radio off and sit up in your seat.

A few minutes later, he returns to the car. You saw him just over 30 minutes ago, but he already looks lighter than he did when he got to your house.

"I'm proud of you, Spence," you tell him as you start the car.

He nods, a quick thanks. "This federal agent gave me his one year medallion after I left the meeting. I've only been clean for 10 months, but he still gave it to me."

"He believes in you," you say simply, glancing over at his confused expression.

"He doesn't even know me."

You shrug. "You don't have to really know someone to care about them, Spencer. You just have to see something of yourself in them."

"Is that what you see in me?" he asks, finally looking at you.

You consider this for a moment. Is that why you feel so protective over him?

"I don't know," you say eventually, not wanting to lie, even by accident. "I definitely wasn't as smart as you were, or as focused. I wasn't all that driven in high school at all, to be honest. I was lucky to have Hotch. He gave me the push I needed to get out there and focus on school."

He's silent for a minute and you worry you may have said something wrong. Then: "I didn't have anyone in school." He pauses for a beat, before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. "I was in the library one day, and this girl comes up to me, and she tells me that Alexa Isben wants to meet me behind the field house. Alexa Isben was, like...easily the prettiest girl in school."

You frown, already not liking where this story is going. "Did she not show up?"

"No, she was there." His voice sounds almost resigned, but there's a note of something darker underneath. Something raw and painful, that likely still hurts after all these years. "But so was the entire football team. They stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post. So many kids were there, you know, just watching."

"No one stopped them?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I begged them to, but they just...they just watched. Then finally they got bored and they left." He clears his throat, and the sound is small, like a little boy's. "It was like midnight when I finally got home. And my mom didn't...Mom was having one of her episodes, so she didn't even realize I was late."

"You never told her what happened?"

He shakes his head. "I never told anybody. I thought it was one of those things that I thought if I didn't talk about it, I'd just forget. But I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You don't need an eidetic memory for that, Spence," you whisper, trying to stay focused on the road even as his words swirl into your memories and create an agonizing hurricane of emotions. "I was only ten years old when my mom was killed, but I can still remember every moment of her funeral."

The field office comes into view and you push forward as you scan your badge and slide into a parking spot below the upper garage. When the car is in park, you undo your seatbelt and turn to him. "I know how hard it can be to push away the painful memories, but there's something more important that I need you to remember."

"Remember what?"

He looks at you then, and you reach forward to squeeze his hand. "You're not alone anymore."

***

"Is it always this hot?" You look up at the beating sun through your shaded sunglasses and fan your face with both of your hands.

"Every day, all day," Emily huffs, running her fingers through her bangs to unstick them from her forehead.

Everyone is sweltering in the Miami heat, but then Derek gets off the plane with a wide grin, his skin glistening in the sun, and you resist the urge to throw your bag at him. "South Beach, baby."

He immediately shuts up when he spots the stunning Miami PD detective who called your team in for the recent string of murders. JJ shoots you a smirk before introducing her to the team. "Detective Lopez. We spoke on the phone."

"Tina," she corrects, before shaking her hand. "Thank you for coming down so quickly."

"Hey," Emily says from beside you, making you turn to see what she's looking at. "Isn't that..."

You spot the person she's referring to, and your face splits into a big smile. "Detective LaMontagne!"

"He's here to ID the cop they pulled from the bay last night," Tina explains.

You don't miss the flush in JJ's cheeks as she shakes his hand. "Detective, good to see you."

"How are you?" you ask, giving him a quick hug that he returns.

"Yeah, Charlie Luvet and I worked together for seven years."

Derek frowns. "Sorry for your loss, man."

Tina looks confused, and you don't blame her. "So, you all know each other?"

"Professionally," JJ is quick to add. Will whips around to look at her, and you turn to Emily with an eyebrow raise, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. You aren't sure why she won't just admit that they've been together since New Orleans, but that's her business.

***

You join JJ and Will at the IDing of Officer Luvet, and you keep your distance as he glances down at the body and affirms the report.

"Yeah, that's him."

JJ looks like she wants to comfort him, but instead she sticks to the professional approach. "If you need help making arrangements, liaising with families is part of what I do."

Will nods, his voice choking up slightly. "I might just take you up on that. Excuse me, I'll be outside."

When he steps outside of the coroner's office, you can't help but notice the longing look on JJ's face as she watches him go.

"Let's go," she says to you softly, her eyes still on the door. You follow her outside, but by then Will is nowhere to be found.

"It's okay, you know," you blurt out. You weren't really planning on talking to her about this, but sometimes your mouth takes over before your brain can catch up. "I know you worry that being around a band of profilers all the time makes you vulnerable."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she says simply, not quite meeting your eye.

"JJ," you say seriously, trying to convey your pure intentions. "If you keep trying to hide it, you'll lose him."

She purses her lips, and you squeeze her forearm, hoping you aren't pushing past her boundaries. The whole team is sparing with details about their personal lives, but you like to think that you're someone people feel comfortable sharing things with.

"I know you, hon." You flash her a knowing smile, feeling a shot of satisfaction as her lip twitches. "I know that it's enough for you to know that you care about something, but it's not enough for everyone."

She exhales, tucking her hair behind her ears. "He's upset with me, but I don't know what to do. I'm still scared."

You sigh, understanding her predicament, but still wanting her to push past it. "You can let yourself be happy, JJ. You won't always get hurt."

She nods before glancing around the room again, searching for Will even though he's long gone. It's an instinct you recognize.

Later, when JJ finally acknowledges their relationship by pulling him in for a kiss at the police station, you can't help but take it as a win.

***

Your house feels emptier than usual when you get back from Miami. Seeing JJ and Will find each other again reminded you of how much you miss having someone to share your life with.

Deciding to take a night to yourself, you pop open a bottle of red, and pour yourself a glass, which you swirl around before taking a sip. It's drier than you tend to go for, and when you check the label, you realize that's because you didn't buy it.

How can you drink this stuff?

It makes me feel sophisticated.

Jeff would break out the fancy glassware every chance he got, because he didn't believe in special occasions. He used to say that people waste precious moments of their life waiting for the right occasion to come around.

The memory feels warm in the back of your mind, and you take another sip of wine before walking over to your cupboard and grabbing the fanciest wine glass you can find. You pour the rest of your wine into the new glass and place the other in the sink, before swirling it around again. No time like the present.

You bring the glass to the couch with you, where you turn on the television and skip through the first few channels. As the wine in your glass depletes, the loneliness sets back in. You're about to pour yourself another pity glass when your phone buzzes with a call from Hotch.

"Do your television channels suck as much as mine do?"

You smile, muting the television and pressing the phone to your ear. "Definitely not."

He chuffs. "I guess I'm not used to the new tv controls."

Right, his new apartment. After the papers were finalized, he gave the house to Haley and moved into a new place ten minutes away.

"We can share mine," you say, listening to the sounds of his breath over the receiver. "I also have wine."

That gets a laugh. "I'll be there in 15."

You hear a knock on your door exactly 14 minutes later. When you open it, you're greeted with the sight of Hotch in a tee shirt and jeans. "A little underdressed, aren't we?"

He snorts, taking the wine glasses from your hands and following you into the family room. "What are we watching?"

"You're the one with the broken tv," you grin, flopping down on the couch and taking your glass from him. "What do you want to watch?"

He thinks for a minute, before his eyes sparkle with an idea. You cut him off before he can suggest what you already know he will. "We are not watching Top Gun again, Hotch!"

"You asked," he shrugs, hiding his smile behind a sip of wine. "What do you want to watch, then?"

You can see him watching you over the rim of his glass, so you blurt out the first name that comes to your mind. "Footloose."

He looks at you blankly for a moment, before his brow twitches, and your jaw drops. "You haven't seen Footloose?!"

"It came out when we were in high school," he groans, taking one of the throw pillows off the couch and stuffing it behind his back. "Terminator and Dune came out that same year. I remember because you tried to get me to watch it then too."

"It's an amazing movie!" you exclaim, standing up to go dig through your movie cabinet. "We're watching it right now."

He groans and sinks back into the pillows as you find the DVD and start the movie. You've seen it at least a dozen times, mostly because it makes you nostalgic for your teenage years, but the opening still gets you excited.

As the movie plays, you keep glancing over at Hotch, trying to see if he's enjoying the scenes just as much as you did on your first watch. To his credit, he watches the movie faithfully, without checking his phone or straying from the television screen.

"Enough," he grumbles suddenly, startling you.

"What?" you question, whipping your head around to face the screen.

"I'm watching the movie," he huffs, fixing you with a pointed look. "You don't have to keep checking."

You frown, hugging a pillow to your chest. "I wasn't checking, I just like seeing people's reactions to my favorite movies."

"Either way."

You groan, reaching out to thwack his arm.

"Eyes on the screen," he berates you, pointing at the TV. "The dance scene is starting."

You sip your wine bitterly as you try to resist the urge to glance over at him. Eventually, the movie takes over your attention and soon it's the final town council scene where Kevin Bacon gives a speech to the whole town.

"'There was a time for this law'," you quote along with the movie, "'but not anymore.'"

The movie comes to an end, and you click the remote to turn off the television. When you turn to Hotch with an excited grin, you're surprised to see that he has fallen asleep.

His head has fallen to the side, resting on the armrest, and he looks so peaceful with his expression completely neutral. His characteristic frown is nowhere to be seen as he snores quietly through his nose.

Your lips curve into a smile as you stand up and grab a blanket from a basket beside the couch. You drape it over his body, being careful not to wake him, and take the wine glasses to the sink before heading up for bed.

***

"That's because you pick horses the same way you practice law."

You hold your breath as he glances into the crowd for a brief second.

"...by always taking the long shot."

Emily snickers under her breath, and you see even Reid crack a smile as the lawyer starts floundering. The rest of the day in court goes by quickly and you all wait for Hotch in the hallway of the courthouse as he finishes up inside.

"That was impressive," you grin, nudging his shoulder as he walks alongside you. "I can't believe that was my first time seeing you in full prosecutor mode."

"Hardly," he says, rolling his eyes lightly. "I was called to give testimony, it's very different."

"I'm just surprised that prosecutor is still walking after how hard you hit him." He shoots you a look and you raise your hands in surrender. "Metaphorically, of course."

"That was a straight knock out." Derek comes up behind you and throws an arm around your shoulder as he spins you both to face Hotch. "The crowd practically cheered when you cleaned the floor with him."

"Thank you," he concedes, flashing his eyes at you. "Now let's get back to work. We still have to get more evidence for the rest of the trial."

And just like that, everyone switches back into work mode. Derek drops his arm and jogs forward to catch up to Rossi and Spencer, while Emily calls Garcia to get the latest update.

Using the moment of solitude, you bump his shoulder again. "Do you ever wish you were still a prosecutor? Your life would certainly be a lot simpler."

He shakes his head, the answer coming quickly and firmly. "I couldn't do it then, and I still couldn't now. Seeing the murderers come in after they've finished killing...I needed to know I could stop them before they were done."

His sentiment sounds familiar. Your mind flashes back to the little boy who took matters into his own hands, because no one could stop the pain for him.

You blink and it's present day again. You loved your best friend who fought his own battles without asking for help, and, even though he's vastly different, you love your best friend as he is now.

***

"Five shootings in two weeks."

"It's about time we got the call."

The whole team, plus Garcia, flies up to New York, where an unsub has been shooting people around the city, seemingly at random.

"Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office," Hotch explains, glancing down at his cell phone. "She's running point on the case and called me directly."

You have heard of her, which isn't too surprising, but all you know is that she's British and seems to be very good at her job.

"You know her?" Morgan asks him, echoing your thoughts.

Hotch nods. "We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard."

They liaised. You don't know what that implies, but you also know that he and Haley didn't take a single break during their relationship after graduating college, so it can't be anything too personal.

JJ and Emily share a look, but you don't engage with them, instead looking back at the case file and trying to focus on any of the words that aren't 'Kate Joyner'.

***

"Kate."

A pretty blonde woman approaches you all with a smile only for Hotch. "Aaron. How have you been?"

He nods. "Well, thank you. This is my team." He introduces each of you to her, but you don't miss how her eyes linger on you when he mentions your name.

"Thanks for being here," she says, before walking you all through the background of the case. Shootings in different precincts, seemingly random, FBI only brought in after the fourth murder.

After explaining the details and introducing you to the local detectives on the case, she pulls Hotch aside for a private word in her office. You turn back to the team, trying not to let your gaze linger on them as they walk away.

The NYPD doesn't seem happy that SSA Joyner has taken over their case, but even though she comes off as a bit brusque, you can tell she cares about catching this unsub just as much as they do.

"What's your partner's problem?" Reid asks Detective Cooper, the only local officer who has made an effort to meet any of you.

"We're glad the FBI was brought in," he explains with a heavy sigh, "but all of a sudden Joyner's taking meetings with the mayor and calling in you all without us knowing anything about it."

You can understand his hesitation, but you also need his cooperation if you're going to get anything done here.

"We're only here to help," Emily tells him as you turn around to find JJ.

"Has Garcia gotten settled in with the New York tech analyst?" you ask once you find her staring at a map of the various boroughs. She doesn't answer immediately, so you nudge her shoulder. "JJ?"

"Huh?" she startles. "Oh, sorry, yeah. She called a few minutes ago, she's all good."

JJ is usually the focused one who brings you back on track, so you're surprised by how distracted she seems. You nod in acknowledgement, scrutinizing her expression for another second, before heading back to the team. Your eyes involuntarily dart over to Kate's office, and you notice how close together she and Hotch are. You're about to avert your eyes when their body language becomes a bit clearer: each time she leans in to say something, he subtly pulls back.

The dynamic of their relationship is suddenly apparent, and you mentally kick yourself for daring to assume the worst when he first mentioned her. You can't say the same for your opinion of her, though. He's still wearing his ring, for God's sake. Based on how little you've heard about her from him (nothing, you mean), you doubt she even knows about the divorce yet.

Derek and JJ head out with the detectives to check out the last crime scene, while you stay back with Emily and Spencer to build the anti-geographical profile. When another victim is shot, you head to the new scene to see if you can build a working profile.

"It's a different borough again," you sigh after getting out of the SUV and joining Hotch, Kate, Derek, and JJ in front of the body. "Prentiss and Reid are back at the office still working the profile from a geographical angle. We're starting to think maybe we should get officers out onto the high-traffic intersections, and maybe even get some of us out there too."

"Uniforms are rounding up witnesses," Kate jumps in, ignoring you. "It doesn't seem like anyone got a clean look."

You see Derek glance at you out of the corner of your eye, but you don't entertain the look. If she has some issue with you that you aren't aware of, you won't give her the satisfaction of letting her get to you. "The unsub's probably gone before anyone even realizes it's happening,"

Hotch nods, turning to face Kate. "Is this what it felt like during the Son of Sam."

She returns his gaze. "First we realized that if the violence was truly random, there was almost no way of stopping it. Seems like these people have figured that out."

You look up, trying to see if there's anything in the vicinity you can use to ID the unsub. Your eyes catch on a security camera outside one of the delis directly behind you. "From the placement of that camera, odds are the only view they're going to get is the back of his head."

She frowns. "Let's not be too quick to decide what we do or don't have."

This time it's both Derek and JJ that glance at you, but you turn to Hotch, who is avoiding meeting your eyes. Kate steps away to speak with the detectives at the scene, so you grab his arm and pull him aside. "What is her problem?"

He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "FBI brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn't bring this case home, she's going to be reassigned. And you are at the top of the list to replace her."

"Replace her?" you echo, trying to process what he's saying. "I haven't even been in the BAU that long."

"It's not about field experience," he says, angling his body so that you're separated from the others. "You've been with the bureau longer than I have, and your work speaks for itself. It's not a surprise that they'd want to promote you."

You still can't wrap your head around the fact that you could be leading a unit yourself, or that you may have to leave the team you love, so you focus on what you do know. "I thought the bureau was proud of the fact that they stole her from Scotland Yard."

"I don't know," he shrugs, glancing back at her. "Politics here are different."

***

After finishing up at the crime scene, the whole team heads to the hotel to get some rest for the night. You feel more alert than you usually do after a long day of building a profile, and you adjust your bag strap on your shoulder as you dig around the side pockets for your room key. You don't plan on going to bed for at least a few more hours, and you might as well use the time to work on the case, but you need your key if you're going to get any sleep at all.

When your fingers finally catch on the thin plastic card, you look up to see a familiar face that you've been seeing more often than not, as of late. "Wait, isn't that..."

JJ looks up with a start, and she doesn't look distracted for the first time all day. "Will."

He gets up from the lobby chair he was lounging in and approaches her. "Hey, I took a shot and flew to D.C., but when it didn't work, I figured a train ride to New York was only a few more hours."

"Detective." Hotch reaches out and shakes his hand, before glancing at you with a frown that says, Did you know he was coming?

You shake your head imperceptibly and turn back to Will as he looks longingly at JJ. "Look, I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know you're working, but I can't stand you being on this case and me not being near." He pauses for a beat. "Not with what's going on."

That makes you frown too.

Hotch echoes your thoughts. "Is there a problem?"

JJ takes a deep breath and turns around to face all of you. "I'm pregnant."

Oh my God.

"Oh, my God," Emily exclaims, pulling her into a hug, the first of you to regain her bearings after hearing the news. "JJ, congratulations."

"That's amazing, JJ," you grin, hugging her next.

You don't miss how stiff Hotch is as Will shakes his hand. "I've asked JJ to marry me."

"Will," JJ says tightly, a warning in her voice.

He chuckles. "Well, we're working out some kinks."

"We'll give you both some privacy." Hotch turns away from them, his face falling the moment she can't see him anymore. You know he's hurt that she didn't trust him with this information, but you're surprised by just how downtrodden he seems.

JJ rushes after him. "Hotch-"

"JJ, you could have told me," he says softly, his voice both confused and stung.

She looks down. "I know."

"Because I understand if you need to take some time."

"No," she shakes her head, without a look back. "I want to be here."

"Okay," he nods, not looking at any of you. "7:00 AM."

You try to catch his arm as he walks off, but he either ignores it, or he doesn't feel you reaching for him. You choose to believe it's the latter.

***

You all deliver the working profile to the police officers first thing the next morning. While you're explaining an alternate possibility, Garcia calls with an update that a possible unsub was caught on camera shooting someone on a subway platform at one of the intersections you suggested that your team patrol yesterday.

"We could have had that guy," you say, your voice fuming with anger as you turn to Kate with a glare you haven't used in ages.

She doesn't falter. "Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated."

"Maybe, but it was worth taking a shot."

She fixes you with a stare. "I had every available man on the street."

"And I suggested to you that you use this team." You can't believe that her decision to ignore your advice yesterday might have just cost someone else their life. You can see the rest of the team looking at you with some blend of concern or indignation on your behalf, but you don't care. You just need Hotch to back you up.

Instead he just looks at you. "L/N, second-guessing doesn't do us any good right now."

You're so angry, you can barely see straight. Emily reaches for your arm, but you shake her off. "Hotch, how are we supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we're actually here to help them, if she won't let us do our job?"

"We're here to present a profile," he says simply, not quite meeting your eye. "That's what we need to do."

You gape at him, your back straightening as you get ready to stand your ground. You don't disagree on things like this often, but when you do, it's usually a civil conversation that gets resolved quickly. You've never felt this angry about his handling of a case before, but then again, he's never not had your back before. "We've got seven bodies, Hotch."

He looks at you then, and you can't discern anything from his expression. It's a blank slate that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's not your place to have this discussion."

"Screw you."

You spin around, shoving away Derek and Emily as they try to talk you down. You stalk past them and out of the field office, where the cool evening air fills your sinuses and clears your head for a moment of silence. You stand on the sidewalk for a few seconds, waiting, and when he doesn't follow you out, you just manage to convince yourself that you're not disappointed, but relieved.

***

You're sitting at the hotel bar when Rossi finally finds you. You only ordered a lemon water, still feeling like you're on the clock, even if there's a good chance Hotch won't let you back into the investigation.

"I know," you huff when he takes a seat beside you. "I was out of line."

"You got too emotionally involved," he says, turning to face you. "I know you and Hotch are friends, but that doesn't mean you get to be unprofessional."

You sigh, your body deflating as all the fight leaves you. "I just felt like he was taking her side. Like he didn't have my back."

"There are no sides here."

You nod. "I know."

"And he does have your back." You look at him then, and he flashes you a small smile. "That man will always have your back. Right now, he's just worried about how Kate is holding up, with the word on the street."

That surprises you. "You know about the promotion?"

He nods. "People talk. But if she were to get fired, it would be because we didn't solve this case."

You frown, lifting your hand in defense. "Rossi, I hope you're not saying you think I want her to fail."

"Of course not," he shakes his head. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I lost my head for a second," you acknowledge, taking a sip of water. "I think I just needed a minute."

"And you got it," he says simply. "But right now, I see someone who wants to get back on the job. Or is there another reason why you ordered a glass of water at a bar?"

You set your glass down, letting out a surprised chuckle. "Where is everyone now?"

You both stand up, and he leads you out of the lobby. "Joyner took your advice. We're spreading out across the city."

***

"Emily, what happened?"

You rush forward to where she is standing over the dead body of a young man. Detective Cooper was taken in an ambulance to a nearby hospital after getting shot, and you only just arrived on the scene.

"He was strangely calm," she whispers as Derek and JJ come up behind her. "It's almost like suicide by cop."

"Why?" JJ thinks out loud. "Why would he do that?"

Derek looks at you. "We need to walk back through this profile."

Hundreds of thoughts are swirling through your brain, but based on the look on everyone's faces, you can tell they're thinking the same thing you are: terrorism.

After the crime scene officials arrive, you head over to your SUV to get back to the field office. Derek heads out to brief Homeland Security, and Reid leaves to talk to the Port Authority police, while Hotch and Kate call with the update that they will be going to speak with the mayor's office.

You start your SUV and pull out into the street when a loud explosion goes off a few streets behind you, the plume of smoke and fire large enough that you catch the high end of it in your rearview mirror.

You screech to a stop, just as your phone starts to ring.

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[geehollow]

*waves arms* I HAVE IDEAS for future Loki things. I briefly thought about writing some fics but lmao I've got enough stuff to write already.

(In the spirit of the MCU taking things from the comics and taming them down) We see Kid Loki from the Void wandering the new branches of Yggdrasil. He is not sure what has happened, and he doesn't know why he has this affinity for walking between the worlds (nice that Loki's Tree could be the reason every Loki is able to walk the "hidden paths"), but he does have The Wanderlust and he is also homeless. His alligator friend has found a magic pond, he Does Not want to return to the Void, his native timeline has been pruned for what, centuries? He's all alone. He has thought about finding a timeline with no Loki but the thought of trying to add himself into a Kid Thor's life makes him feel weird because Unresolved Issues. And then the magpie comes, first in his dreams, then out of them. The magpie talks, and is a trickster, and the Kid calls it Ikol. The magpie tells him they have to retrieve the flaming sword from wherever it was left (hmmm how does Ikol know where it is?)–first adventure–then rescue a lonely Loki, the one that would become Classic Loki after hiding in the asteroid after Infinity War–second adventure, or perhaps the last one, because hey if Thor really had to be stuck with a child, it could have been Kid Loki–and whoa there's so many adventures to be had. If some people ever figured out a Loki can power the whole fucking universe, a smaller one would be a smaller battery but an easier one to get. Ravonna Renslayer could pop up again. Kang, of course. Isn't the MCU gathering Young Avengers? Kid Loki's in the playing field, hooray, can't wait for the bad handling, hooray... wouldn't it be awesome if the "big bad" of the new phases was actually The Loki Who Sits In A Tree Of Time and the TVA trying to stop everyone from causing multidimensional wars, of course it's from the pov of those trying to travel through dimensions so they're not aware it's dangerous and those trying to stop them look evil until the whole picture is revealed to them.

Anyway, on-screen it would've been an easy guess because it would've been voiced by Tom Hiddleston, but Ikol the magpie is in fact the Loki that sits in the Tree, and projects outside of it (didn't Tom Hiddleston say it would be "unwise" to consider Loki's journey done?) to not be lonely and to watch out for the child he'd met. Like in the comics, only the Kid can see him.

The cameos Stan Lee used to do could be Mobius hanging around occasionally talking "to himself" if you know what I mean. I want him randomly dropping by in every single new movie, occasionally together with B15, Casey, Brad Wolfe, Ouroboros or someone else from the TVA.

(The fic title would've been The Kid, The Magpie and The Flaming Sword 👀)

#loki #mcu loki #loki series #marvel things

[jakecockley]

- our forsakened love - (prologue)

✧ pairing: santiago “pope” garcia x f!reader

✧ summary: santi recruits you for a mission in south america, but thing is: it’s been years since you’ve last seen each other. the tension is thick, especially when you two have… a past.

✧ genre: angst/fluff and smut in future chapters

✧ warnings: cursing, mentions of a break-up

✧ author's note: yeaahh, um idk, i was thinking of making this a series ?? this was originally just a fic but no longer ig LMAO tagging @marc-spectorr n @slenderclaw

You were bitter.

What fucking audacity Pope had when he simply showed up out of nowhere in front of your door. You didn't know what to think, what to feel, seeing his face just feet away from yours. You didn't know whether to pull him by the collar and kiss the hell out of him or slam the door and go on with your life, but a part of you said no, let's see what he has to say after all these years. That was the curious side of you talking.

You were also shocked.

When you heard the doorbell ring, opened the door, and saw who was there standing, you felt as if a bucket of ice was dumped on you. You were frozen, unable to move. Your hands felt clammy. You felt your heart beating faster. You certainly didn't expect your ex-boyfriend, the one who left you, to appear at your doormat. It wasn't like him, to randomly pop up like this and you sure as hell weren't going to entertain the thought that he might apologize for what he'd done.

Pope breathed out your name softly, but it did no difference to the cold look on your face, yet your heart cracked a little at the sound of his voice. You haven't heard it in a long time. Oh, how you missed it, the smoothness of it yet as well as the slight roughness.

He was wearing a simple black shirt with grey linen pants, laced with a belt. The colors brought out the silver strands through his dark hair and those piercing raven eyes. You noticed the thin chain necklace hanging on his neck, hidden underneath the fabric.

To be honest with yourself, you never really got over him.

You looked to the side, glancing down for a second before leveling your gaze on him again.

"What do you want, Pope?" You asked with as much steadiness you could muster, not wanting to show any vulnerability. You noticed how sort of uneasy the man was, but he regained his posture and cleared his throat. Seems you weren't the only one affected by this.

"Can we talk about this inside? If that's alright with you."

"...Fine."

▬

"You want me to what?" You chuckled coldly, leaning back against the chair you sat in, arms crossed. "To South America? You can't be serious, we- I almost died there, Pope. I won't be going back."

Did he suddenly lose his mind over the years or something? Well, you shouldn't be surprised, if you think about it. He was known for taking risks, going for them despite the consequences. But going after a dangerous drug lord was something else entirely.

Pope almost winced at the slight crack in your voice. His dark eyes gazed over the thin scar that streaked across your neck and collarbone, then back to your face. He didn't forget that night either.

Eyes following up on his own, you didn’t know what else to say. Your fingers fidgeted with each other, a habit you always did when you were anxious. The awkward silence was deafening to both of you, mostly to Pope.

Maybe he should leave and find someone else, but maybe he could convince you. After all, you were the best sharpshooter he knew. He had to take this chance, despite his history with you.

His voice cut through the tension.

"That last mission it was just us, Y/N. This time, we'll have the guys, just like before. Benny, Will, Frankie, and... Tom. I haven't spoken with him yet but I'm sure he'll be with us,” he told you with a soft tone, trying to ease your mind.

It didn’t really work, though.

"I have family here and for once, I'm finally taking care of them. If this job goes wrong, who will?" You argued sternly. "I'm not sure about the Miller brothers, but Frankie has a wife... a kid, Pope. Why drag him into this?"

"If we do this right, which I’m sure we will, the money we get out of this will support your family without you having to lift a finger anymore. It will be worth it, trust me,” Pope urged. "Frankie knows what he's doing, and he agreed to it."

“Once we’re done and safe, we go our separate ways.” He gestured with his hands.

“…How much?” You hesitated.

Alright, he had you there.

“Hundred million, more than that. We can discuss everything with the guys, the plan especially. I can... give you a day to think about it, though," Pope speculated caringly. Standing up from the chair and looking down at you, you brought your head up to look at him. His heart ached to see you smile again, noticing the way your expression had softened, but your eyes still held their hardened gaze.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to get on his knees and tell you just how sorry he was, how much he missed you, how he thought about you every day, never ceasing away from his thoughts. He wanted to tell you why he left.

He shrugged off the unrelenting urge. Now wasn't the time, he knew it and he had to remind himself that. He came here to recruit you, not open up an old wound, although he believes he already did that to himself just by looking at you when you opened the door. He ignored the feeling.

His voice was smoky, "Come to this address when you're done thinking about it. Tomorrow." His hand pulled out a card from his back pocket, handing it down over to you.

You didn't answer him immediately, simply nodded and took the white, written piece of paper from his hand.

"Alright," you say, fingers playing around with it. Pope was surprised to hear that harsh tone gone, instead replaced by a soft one. You watched him begin walking to the door.

You got up to walk him out and once you closed the door, you sighed, eyes shut before you opened them. Maybe you should accept, your family would thrive with the money. You gently shook your head.

Goddamnit. This was such a bad fucking idea.

main masterlist | moon knight masterlist

#santiago garcia fanfic #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago pope garcia imagine #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #santiago garcia angst #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

[cr33ping-cr34tv3r]

My hopes for Bendy: The Cage.

(sorry if it's messy, I just really wanted to get my thoughts out.)

* I would like more screen time/backstory on the side characters

Especially with Sammy and Tom.

I'm not much of a Sammy fan, but I was kinda disappointed that he got 0.01 seconds of screen time. I would like to see more of him, cause the way I see him he's just a crazy worshipper. Unless the creators want to keep it that way it's fine I guess, but I would like a little more flavor to his character.

I'm also curious about how he ended up in the cycle (unless it's already stated somewhere and I just didn't pay attention lmao) and just his backstory in general.

I really like Tom a lot, especially with his design(his mechanical arm is so cool). He seems like a mysterious grumpy guy(like how Tom is irl LMAO).I would also like backstory on Tom and his relationship with Allison. Also, why was he skeptical of Henry but not Audrey? I've noticed Allison was quick to trust Henry and Audrey, especially Audrey.

Why does Allison trust so easily?

And maybe because Allison trusted Henry in Batim, Tom was like "oh so we should trust ppl? cool"

Another thing, (although it's most likely not gonna happen) some of the characters like Tom, Boris, and Bendy are all mute. So I'd like to see some sign language...?

Joey built the ink world with the ill intent of torturing a version of Henry, did Joey intend for the world to be so big and diverse? He's a pretty creative guy, so I imagine so. But why create a WHOLE WORLD to torture a version of someone who left him? It seems extreme. Also, how does he know Henry was being tortured in the world? Did he have some sort of device inside the ink world that he can look from the real world to just be like "haha sucker!"?

If I recall correctly, after Allison kills Alice(in batdr), she says something along the lines of "the ink machine creates many of the same design". I could be looking too much into it, but, does the ink machine actually have a mind of its own? Or is Allison saying "yeah this doppelganger shit happens all the time". Even then, why? Why does this happen?

Lastly, I just wanna see people(especially Allison/Audrey/Alice) just go batshit crazy, like, you're in a never ending cycle where your life is constantly at risk 24/7? Are you're just... Okay with it?? WHERES YOUR RAGE?????

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading all my jumbled up thoughts

Here's some bread 🍞🥐🥖

#ink demon #batdr #batim #audrey batdr #bendy and the dark revival #bendy and the ink machine

[michu-writes]

🐉 Remember how in season 3 there was a love triangle between Jay, Nya and Cole? Yeah, how about the same thing happening but it just turns into a poly Jay x s/o x Cole in the end. I'm basically asking the same thing as in the poly Tom x s/o x Tord ask^^ Love you! <3

A/N: HOW DO YOU COME YOU COME UP WITH THESE COOL IDEAS WHAT??? I was so excited to write this the moment I read the ask <3 /pos!!!!

Remember when Nya said that Jay and Cole were meant for each other? Yeah that's true along with you. At least in this fanfiction. At first it would be taken as a joke. Like Jay and Cole would have another fight about being jealous of each other until you broke them off.

"Guys, can you stop? This is getting on my nerves."

"It was his fault!" Both ninjas said in unison and childishly pointed at each other, receiving a deadpan from you.

"If you guys won't stop, then why not just share?" They thought about it for a second and looked at each other. You snorted at the view as you realized.

"Wait... You actually thought I was being serious?"

"What- No! Of course not!" The lightning master exclaimed and crossed his arms as the one beside him looked away in embarrassment.

"If you actually wanna try this, then that's fine. Just please don't fight, I'm starting to lose my mind." And let me tell you, once they heard those words come out of your mouth, I swear their tail would literally wag so fucking fast if they were a dog. Like faster than the fastest wagging tail in the world. But anyways, that's how you guys became a kick-ass polyamorous couple :D

Onto the general headcanons now, the others would be surprised and confused yet happy for the three of you at the same time. Because let's be honest, they would never expect Jay and Cole being together. Kind of... I don't know about Nya but she always had the vibe between the two of them and she said it herself.

"Didn't they have a fight like a minute ago?" Poor Kai is getting left out once again /j.

Most of them thought it was never possible, but here the three of you are, holding hands as Jay and Cole are a smiling mess. It looks like you're an owner of two golden retrievers lmao. They're just so happy it worked out in the end. Sure, they do still get a little jealous from time to time but they'd be completely lovey dovey the second you walk in.

CUDDLES AND LOTS OF CUDDLES <333333333 You'll of course be in the middle, while the both of their arms are wrapped around you. Sometimes they actually hold hands if they feel extra nice towards each other.

JAY AND COLE HAVE THEIR MOMENTS TOO <33 They're much nicer towards each other, and would help each other out if needed and such. They're just more, like, energetic with you. It's honestly a perfect match though <3 Nobody can get left out, and you'll make sure of that. Of course, it would be a bit weird like the first few days of being together but that's how it is with almost everyone. The three of you look so cute together omf

#Ninjago #jay walker #cole brookstone #lego ninjago #x reader #x y/n #y/n #reader insert #ninjago x reader #jay walker x reader #Cole Brookstone xreader #Bruise #ninjago bruise #jay walker x reader x cole brookstone #Fanfiction #headcanon

[tomthesoftie]

Hi! I've recently discovered your blog and I love it 😍. I was also wondering, if you could write a fic (obviously if you like the idea, no pressure at all) where the reader is a an assassin, in love with mob!tom. Her last mission was a failure and she came home injuried. Tom was scared to death because she didn't text him or call him (obviously). She was trying to help Tom with his business but she underestimates the other mob. Tom helps her cleaning the wounds, they argued at first but I'm a puddle for happy endings. Thank you for your time, have a nice day 🥰🥰🥰

her blood-stained bodysuit

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff, action (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of blood, mild gore, fighting, mentions of guns, mentions of hickey, language

❧ a/n: though i should’ve worked on my script for my final, i worked on this instead. i’m not procrastinating, i have everything planned out lmao nah. this fic wasn’t supposed to be as “gore-y” as it came out as, but, like, it’s whatever. hope you enjoyed this fic because i worked on it for like three days lmao. alright bye xx

part 2!

masterlist                     prompt list

Walking into the run-down building, you gripped your gun tightly, eyes open for any sudden attacks. Your ears strained as they listened for any sounds. 

You were suited in an all-black bodysuit, handgun holster around your waist. Your hair had been tightly tied into a bun, no loose hair out to get in your face. A mask had covered half of your face, hiding your identity. 

You barely knew the place you were heading into, but you knew it enough to assassinate your target and escape. You had planned the entire event out. First, you’d rid the place of any cameras and enemy attackers. Then, you’d set a distraction opposite to where you were heading. Finally, once you reached your destination, you’d quickly shoot your target, leaving them a milli-second to breathe before falling cold to the ground. Your escape was easy. You’d climb out of the window and fall right into your vehicle, allowing yourself a fast escape.

As you stepped into the dark, musty building, you saw the first cameras you needed to shoot out. What didn’t occur to you was the loud echo traveling through the entire building: your first mistake.

You continued on, hiding when you saw the first sign of your enemy’s men but continuing once they passed. Unexpectedly, when you began to carry yourself further, you felt a presence watching you. The butt of your gun swung back, hitting someone in the side. They let out a loud groan, alerting everybody nearby. You quickly shot the man dead, rushing to the nearest exit. Unfortunately for you, there was no path for you to escape. There were men in every exit you planned to use when in case of an emergency.

It was like they already knew you were coming.

Deciding to take your chances, you ran, shooting and dodging bullets being shot your way. Luckily, you were a trained assassin with much experience. You found yourself at an exit when someone was able to land a shot in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you perspired on, not letting them take you in. Throwing the broken-down doors shut, you limped your way to the doors out of the building. Thinking you had escaped all the men, you let your guard down for a second to tend to your wounded leg. 

In the midst of your pain, you didn’t notice the man coming up from behind you. He threw a harsh hit to your head, knocking you off balance. With your already injured leg, you fell over easily, head hitting the rugged ground beneath you. You felt a sharp pain spike the side of your head before feeling a warm liquid run down the side of your face. 

Reaching a hand up to feel the warm liquid, you saw red and fired your gun at the grinning man above you. You shot him dead, bullets continuously lodging into his chest. His shirt soaked with his blood.

“Asshole,” you muttered before getting back on your way. 

When you finally reached your car, you took off as fast as you could, knowing that if you didn’t get going, they would be trailing you all the way back.

-

Tom was in his office, reading over some papers when the door abruptly opened. He snapped his head up in anger, knowing that his men knew not to barge in without knocking or they’d face the consequences.

“You better have a good reason as to why-” when he saw Harrison panting and wide-eyed, he paused, worry taking over his thoughts. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s missing,” the blonde said, breathlessly.

“What do you mean missing?” Tom asked, attention fully on Harrison.

“She isn’t in her room or the gym. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Haz explained.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, rushing out of his office to find you.

-

You threw the car door shut, feeling hazy at the loss of blood. Holding your head in pain, you limped before the doors of your home before falling over, vision going black.

-

“Tom, the system says someone’s entered the code into the gate,” Haz said as he saw the notification pop up on the security system.

“That has to be her,” Tom said before running to the home’s main doors.

Pulling open the large door, he was revealed to your limp body laying on the cold floor, with dried blood covering you and fresh blood tangled in your hair. For a moment, Tom assumed the worst and thought you were dead, when he brought himself back to logicality. He placed two fingers to your neck, successfully locating your weak pulse. He let out a happy sigh but remembered that you were still bleeding heavily and needed to be treated right away.

He lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your shared room. He passed a concerned-looking Harrison, telling him to get the medical supplies.

-

You woke to the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down your cheek. Flinching away from the contact, your eyes weakly shot open to see your brunette boyfriend.

“Tom,” your voice came out weak and hoarse.

“Shh, darling, you need to rest,” he silenced you as he wiped you clean from your blood.

Tom wasn’t mad at you, only a bit frustrated. He wondered why you put yourself at such risk. He knew you to make logical, smart decisions, but here you were, lying in bed severely drained of your blood. He sighed aloud at your recklessness.

His weight lifting off the bed, he stood to put away the bloody towelette, shaking his head as he was consumed by his own thoughts. You watched his back, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him.

“I know I fucked up alright?” You croaked, sighing in shame.

“It’s just so unlike you to be so, so-” a hand reached up to massage his temples, “Just be more careful next time.”

“No,” you bit back, hearing the irritation in his voice, “please, finish your sentence.”

“It doesn’t matter what I was going to say becau-” 

You cut him off, “It does matter. What were you going to say about me?” You suddenly felt a surge of energy run through your veins.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? You need to rest,” he tried to tuck you under the covers, only to be pushed away by a weak hand.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just want to know what you thought about me,” you snapped.

“Fine, if you want to know so much, I was going to say reckless. It’s so unlike you to be so reckless. There, I said it,” he fired back, annoyed by your consistent nagging. 

You scoffed in disbelief, “I was not being reckless. I had a plan, a well-thought out plan at that, but they somehow intercepted it. I can’t predict things like that happening. At least I had a backup plan or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You shifted in bed, trying to sit upright, flinching when your head spun at the sudden movement. You grabbed the aching side, trying to subdue the pain.

“Lay down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more, if you sit up,” the accented voice said demandingly. 

You sneered at the demand but listened, regardless. 

“I know what I’m doing, you know? I’m a well-trained assassin, not to mention one of the best ones yet,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I know that. That’s why I’m confused about how you came back so heavily injured. I expected you to know better,” he huffed, turning the light of the room off.

The last comment had hit you harder than you expected. You knew he had high expectations of you, but you never thought he would put you down for messing up once.

Glancing at his silhouette, you never felt as much dislike for a person than you did Tom, at that moment. You liked being critiqued but not insulted. Your line of work was very important, and your pride was big.

He slid into his space beside you, laying flat on his back, arms crossed over the covers. You remained laying on your side beside him, not sparing him a glance.

A wet streak slid down the side of your nose, another following over the bridge of your nose. Reaching a hand up to wipe the liquid away, you realized it was your tears. You tried to quietly sniffle away your tears, but Tom heard them clearly in the radio silent room. 

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to shed tears late at night. You were an assassin for fuck’s sake. 

“You know, I was doing it for you,” you whispered. “I was trying to get rid of that stupid asshole that’s been targetting you this entire time,” your tears began to come down harder.

“Darling, why would you do that? As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer it more if you came home safely and not bleeding out,” he spoke, turning to wrap an arm around your waist.

“I just wanted to help,” you sniffled, cuddling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was just worried about you,” he murmured as he planted wet kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt,” you replied, lifting a hand up to wipe away your excess tears.

“I’m sorry, princess. Can you forgive me?” His lips attacked the supple skin of your neck, gently sucking and leaving a purple mark behind.

You hummed, a hand snaking behind you to push him away, “Yes, I forgive you. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Alright, love. Let’s sleep,” he smiled into your neck, arms encasing you in a warm hug, and before you knew it, you fell into a deep sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tomholland #tomhollandimagine #tomhollandfanfiction #tomhollandangst #tomhollandfluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland x reader angst #mob au #mob!au #Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland angst #mob!tom x reader #au #angst #fluff #assassin!reader #assassin au #reader insert

[softholand]

snowed in - t.h

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: you and tom are neighbors but you don’t get along very well, what happens when you’re forced to spend christmas with him?

warnings: some curses

words: 3.3k

a/n: this is my gift to @uglypastels as part of @peeterparkr​ ‘s secret santa 🤍 Z, i’m sorry this took so long but as you can see, i got a little carried away with the story lmao anyway, you’re actually one of my favorite writers so i’m kinda nervous to post this but i really hope you like it!! merry christmas ✨

You hated snow, that was a fact. But, since it was Christmas you were willing to face it, for the sake of your sister, that was hosting her first Christmas dinner at her and her husband’s new house.

Before you faced the snow though, you had to wash some of your clothes since your laundry basket was full. So, taking your dirty clothes, you made your way to the laundry room, which thankfully, was empty.

You were putting the detergent in when your phone rang and of course, it was your sister, already asking where you were. Just as you were about to answer, you heard the sound of the door opening, before your neighbor, the one you didn't like very much, entered the laundry room.

As always, you tried your best to ignore him and answered your still ringing phone. “Hello?” You said, already listening to the sound of chatting on the other end of the call. “Yes, I’m coming, I just had to do something first.” You told your sister, closing the machine and pressing start. “No, Maya! I’m not bringing anyone, you already know that!” That phrase caught the attention of your neighbor, which made you roll your eyes, both at him and your sister.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, bye!” You ended the call, stuffing your phone back into your purse, before taking your keys off. Then, just as you turned to leave, Tom’s body came crashing right into yours, knocking you off your feet.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, quickly helping you get up. “Fuck! You don’t look at where you’re walking?!” You hissed, and he immediately stopped his movements. “I said I’m sorry! And if there’s someone to blame here, it’s you!” He retaliated, making you widen your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?!!! You came crashing into me like a fucking truck and I’m the one to blame?!” You practically yelled, you just couldn’t believe this boy. “As if! You turned so fast that it gave me no other option!” He scoffed, making you even angrier.

“Okay, it’s Christmas and I don't want to stress myself right now so can you please help me find my keys so I can go?!” Taking a deep breath, you asked your not so friendly neighbor. “To finally get you out of here? With pleasure!” He mocked and you had to restrain yourself from slapping him.

You two looked everywhere and when you were starting to lose hope, your neighbor, whose name you recalled being Tom said, “I found them but you’re not gonna like it where it is!” Rushing to his side you saw what he was talking about. He indeed found your keys but they were inside the floor drain, with metal bars locking it pretty safely.

“No, no, no! I need those keys!” You whined, getting on your knees to try and get them out of there but it was a failed attempt. “Can you help me, please?!” You yelled, outraged Tom wasn’t doing anything. “What do you want me to do? There’s no way we’re getting them out of there.” He exclaimed. “I don’t know, get a stick or something. I’m gonna try to fish them out.”

After a couple of minutes trying to look for something, Tom came back with a toilet plunger. “Seriously?!” You asked, to which he rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?” He questioned, crossing his arms, making them look even bigger than they already are, which it’s completely not to the point here.

Your attempt to rescue your keys was not successful, since all you ended up doing was pushing them further into the drain until you couldn’t see them anymore. “Fuck! No, no, no!” You cried, desperately trying to take them out. “Just accept it, they’re gone!” Tom stated.

“How am I supposed to get to my sister’s house now? And my house keys were there too!” You groaned, which made him laugh. “Stop laughing! That’s not funny!” You finally gave up and got out of the ground, standing beside him. “I’m sorry but it is kinda funny!” He continued to laugh and you couldn’t help but slapped his arm. “It’s all your fault!” You scolded.

“Not this again, it was your fault too!” Tom retorted, making you even angrier. “Fuck! What am I supposed to do now? I have to get to my sister’s.” You paced around the small room, feeling your anxiety starting to build up in your chest. “Okay, I’ll call an Uber, stay at her place tonight, and tomorrow I can call someone to take care of this, right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.

“I guess…?” Tom answered, to which you rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you!” With long strides and without saying another word, you made your way out of the laundry room. “You’re not going to thank me for my help?” Tom smirked, making you stop. “Of course, how could I forget to thank the person who caused all of this in the first place?” You mocked. “Oh, c’mon!” Tom insisted. “Goodbye, thanks for nothing!” You jeered, completely dismissing him.

Once you were out of the room, you thought your problems were gone but once you got to open the door, it didn’t move. You tried again, and again and again and again. Nothing. Snorting, you tried one last time before giving up and kicking the metal thing with your boot covered feet.

“Yeah, about that…” You jumped at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice. “Fuck! What do you want now?” You questioned, losing your patience. “It seems like we’re snowed in, it’s all over the news, apparently there’s another snowstorm coming and the roads are all blocked.” He informed you while leaning on his door frame with his arms crossed.

“You’re kidding me, right?!” You exclaimed, feeling your heartbeat speed up. “Nope!” He shrugged, making you panic.”No, no, no! You’re playing with me, I don’t believe you!” You practically yelled. “Well, see it for yourself!” Tom offered, mentioning for you to come inside his house, where he had the tv on.

You hesitated, after all, you had never set foot in any of your neighbor's houses, but eventually accepted his offer and went into his house. And of course, just like he said, the snowstorm was all over the news with big headlines saying: “All the roads are blocked, for your safety, stay home!”

You groaned loudly, putting both of your hands on your head, and just when you thought the moment couldn’t get any worse, your phone started ringing again. “Fuck! She’s going to kill me!” You took a deep breath, before finally answering your sister’s call.

“Hey, Maya! No, I’m not! I’m stuck here, the door won’t open because of the snow! Yeah, I know! No, there’s no one working today, Maya! And the roads are too dangerous to drive. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it to lunch tomorrow. I’m sorry, I love you! Bye!”

Ending the call, you realized you were still in Tom’s apartment, while he looked at you like you were some type of alien. “Just so you know, you ruined my sister’s first Christmas dinner at her new house.” You informed him, to which he scoffed, plopping himself on the sofa.

“For the last time, it was your fault!” He said, taking the remote control, looking for something to watch. You felt extremely uncomfortable so you made your way to the door, wanting to get out of this asshole’s house. “Well, it’s been a pleasure but I think I’m gonna head home now. Again, thank you for ruining my Christmas.” You grumbled, opening the door when you heard him clear his throat.

“What now?” You snapped, raising your voice. “You sure you’re not forgetting anything?” He inquired, leaving you confused, but all it took was a couple of seconds for you to realize something. Your house keys. They were gone. “Fuck! No, no, no! There’s no way I’m gonna find a locksmith on Christmas eve. What am I supposed to do?” You groaned, feeling frustrated.

“You could always… stay here?” Tom offered, making you laugh. “Funny! There’s no way I’m spending Christmas with you!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Well then, good luck staying outside or with another one of our neighbors. Oh, right! There’s no one else here, it’s just us.” He smirked, making your blood boil.

Here goes your Christmas.

Sitting in complete silence in Tom's living room, with him watching a golf championship, while his house looked everything but Christmassy, you regret ever complaining about your sister’s Christmas party. “Do you want anything?” He asked from his side of the sofa. “No! Thanks!” You stated, crossing your arms.

“Oh, c’mon! We’re stuck here until God knows how long, don’t you think we should start to, at least, get to know each other? I’ll start, my name is Tom!” He said, to which you, once again, rolled your eyes. “Oh, I know your name!” You exclaimed, annoyed with his sudden enthusiasm.

“Look at that!” He smirked and you quickly realized how that must’ve sounded for him. “Yeah, the girls you bring home aren’t exactly discreet, and believe me when I say that these walls are very thin.” You declared, watching his smirk only grow in size. “What can I say? I know how to pleasure women.” Tom bragged, making you want to throw up. “Please, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“I was joking! What about you though, I still don’t know your name and we’ve been neighbors for what? Two years now?” He asked, completely forgetting the tv, now focusing solely on you. “I don’t know, something like that. And my name’s y/n!” You said. “Cute! And what do you do?” He questioned.

“I’m a personal chef!” You acknowledge, Tom instantly raising his eyebrows. “Fancy…” He teased, making you chuckle. “There’s nothing fancy about being in front of a stove twelve hours a day, serving people who sometimes don’t even know what a reduction is.” You added and Tom raised his eyebrows even higher. “You also have no idea what a reduction is, right?” He shook his head, to which you scoffed. “What about you?”

“I work as a personal trainer!” He exclaimed, clearly excited with his position. “That explains a lot!” You whispered to yourself, thinking about the size of his arms, shoulder, back… “What?!” Tom smirked, having listened to your words. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” You stated, to which he laughed.

After a couple of minutes of complete silence, Tom cleared his throat, before asking, “So… bringing no one to your sister’s Christmas dinner?” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even tell me about it, she’s been bothering me about it since her wedding.” You blurted, suddenly realizing your mistake. “And I don’t know why I just told you this because you’re practically a stranger and this was very personal information.” You commented, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” Tom assured, making you smile. “Well, it seems like I’m doing all the questions here, do you wanna ask something?” You didn’t even think about it for too long. “Why’s your house not decorated? I noted that your door is the only one without a garland.” You asked, dying to know the answer since you stepped foot in his house.

“Oh, it’s just… I live alone and my family is not here so, I don’t know, it doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged and you felt your heart sink hearing him said that. “Not even a tree? I mean, c’mon… everyone loves a Christmas tree!” You stated, to which he chuckled. “I actually have one, I just haven’t put it up,” Tom mumbled.

“What?! Can we do it?” You exclaimed. “Do it, like… right now?” He questioned, confused with your sudden burst of energy. “Yeah, if I’m going to spend Christmas here, I want to at least feel festive.” You stated, getting excited. “I mean, yeah, sure! Go for it!” Tom nodded, getting off the couch to pick up the tree.

When he came back with a giant box, you got up to help. “Can I take my coat and boots off? They’re very uncomfortable!” You asked and Tom nodded. Once you had everything off, you guys started to adjust the tree branches one by one, until it was perfect to start decorating.

With a box of ornaments by your side, you started arranging them on the tree, while Tom disappeared in the kitchen, making you think he just didn’t want to help. But, once he came out of the room carrying two mugs of what you assumed was hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile.

“For me?” You teased, to which he chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, it looks like we’re going to be here for a while so I thought, we better have something to drink.” He resonated, watching you take a sip of the hot liquid. “It’s perfect, thanks, Tom!” You smiled and he reciprocated.

“You wanna watch something?” Tom asked after a couple of minutes of silence. “Well, since now we’re all in, a Christmas movie would be great!” You said. “Why was I sure you’ll say that?” He grunted, making you smile.

With Home Alone on the tv and mugs of hot chocolate in hands, you and Tom kept decorating the tree and it didn’t take much for it to start to look festive. Since the tree had the lights already in, all it took was Tom plugging the power on for it to lit up, showing all the ornaments you and him had put and making the house feel instantly more festive.

“It looks beautiful!” You beamed, while from the corner of your eye, you saw Tom looking at you. “Stop!” You protested, hearing him chuckle. “What?” He asked, feigning ignorance. “I can see you looking at me and not the tree.” You crossed your arms, finally taking a look at him. “Well, everyone looks at what they find the most beautiful, isn't that right?” He smirked and you swore you felt little butterflies on your stomach.

“You’re such a flirt!” You scoffed, deciding it was best to play it off rather than acknowledging what he said. “I told you I know how to pleasure women.” He blinked, to which you groaned, mimicking wanting to throw up.

“So… what now?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, I’m kinda hungry though. What were you going to have for dinner?” You asked, and he instantly widened his eyes. “I… didn’t really think about that. I was probably going to order something.” He shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

“Well, that’s not possible anymore, so what do you have in mind?” You questioned, leaning beside him. “I mean… you’re the chef here…” Tom snickered, to which you scoffed. “You’re seriously going to make me work on Christmas?” He pouted and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Fine! What do you have in this house?” You sighed, making your way to the kitchen. “I think I have chicken, some potatoes, frozen peas, eggs, milk, and a couple of oranges,” Tom informed you while looking in the fridge. “Let me think… I can make mashed potatoes, sautéed peas, and roasted chicken with… orange sauce. What do you think?” You said, matter of factly.

“I think it’s way more than I could do in my entire life.” He exclaimed, making you laugh. “So… care to help?” You asked and he nodded, making his way to your side. “What can I do?”

You instructed Tom to peel, dice, and boil the potatoes, while you seasoned the chicken and put it in the oven. You two kept working side by side in the kitchen and the more time you spent together, the more you got comfortable around each other.

Tom put on some Christmas music, per your request, and even took your hand, making you dance to one of Mariah Carey’s songs until the smell of something burning hit your nostrils. Once everything was ready, you set the table, and you two finally seated down to eat the improvised Christmas dinner.

“So… what do you think?” Anxious, you asked Tom as soon as he put the fork in his mouth. “Don’t tell my mom I said that but this is the best meal I’ve ever had. Holy shit!” He exclaimed, making you smile. “C’mon, you’re exaggerating!” You tried to reason but he wasn’t having it. “I’m not! This is so good!”

“Well, thank you! I appreciated it! Cheers!” You raise your glass, which was currently filled with the wine Tom found in one of the cabinets. “Cheers!” He repeated, raising his glass.

Tom got a FaceTime call from his family In the middle of your dinner and after asking if he could take it, he answered the call. “Hi, baby! Merry Christmas!” You could hear a feminine voice saying. “Hi, mom, Merry Christmas!” Tom responded with a smile on his face.

“We’re just about to eat, what are you doing?” The same voice asked, to which he answered, “Oh, I’m eating… takeout.” Tom said, making you feign being offended by his words. “Oh honey, I wish you were here with us! We all miss you so much! Promise you’ll try to come next year, please?”

“Yes, mom! I promise!” Tom said, passing his fingers through his brown curly hair. “Okay, we’re gonna leave you now. We love you so much, Thomas! Merry Christmas!” The woman on the other side of the call said, making him blush. “I love you guys too! Merry Christmas, everyone! Bye!” Tom gave his phone a little wave, before ending the call.

“Sorry, she can be a little… persistent!” He apologized, to which you shrugged. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You assured him, taking a sip of wine. “But why didn’t you tell them about me?” You added, making him smirk.

“Trust me, if I told them I had a girl with me, they’d expect you to go home with me for the next Christmas,” Tom explained. “Is this an invitation?” You smirked, raising your eyebrows. “Only if you want to.” He winked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“You guys are not from here, right?” You asked. “What? The accent gave it away?” Tom inquired, making his british accent even stronger. “A little bit!” You answered and you both laughed. “We’re from England, I moved here about two years ago.” He told you. “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.” You said. “I had a pretty rough breakup back then and I don’t know, just wanted a new start.” He explained, seemingly saddened.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized but Tom was quick to dismiss. “It’s alright! What about you? Is your family from here?” He asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah, they’re all from here.” You answered, taking another sip.

After a couple of hours, you and Tom were finally finished with dinner and cleaning the kitchen. Now, you were both seated on the sofa, watching yet another Christmas movie. You had no idea how, but as time passed, you and Tom got closer and closer, until you were both cuddled up in the middle of the sofa, with both of your legs covered by a blanket.

You were close, your faces were almost touching and when you were about to close your eyes, Tom whispered, “Look up!” And you did, finding a mistletoe hanging loosely on top of you. “When did you do that?” You asked, failing to contain a smile. “I mean, since you’re all about Christmas traditions, I thought it was only fitting.” He smirked and you finally closed the gap between you two.

“You know, my Christmas wasn’t that bad after all.” You joked, to which he laughed, “Mine either!” He agreed, kissing you again. “Merry Christmas!” You smiled. “Merry Christmas!” Tom exclaimed, before going right back to your lips, where he stayed for the rest of the night.

tagging some of my mutuals ✨ @stuckonspidey @definitely-not-black-cat @missnxthingg @bi-writes @screamholland @peeterparkr @duskholland @wazzupmrstark @tomhollandthing @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @mrs-hollandstan @allyz @hazinhoodies @hollandcreep @worldoftom @whatevsholland @geminiparkers

#peetersanta #secret santa #secret santa 2020 #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland writing #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #my writing

[obsessivelyloved]

i NEED to see more of that au where future edd takes the present gang away from tord. like omg what does red leader do, what does tord do???

Thinking about it is so funny to me. Like Future!Edd won't explain a single thing to any of the present gang so for a while they're just like. "This might as well just happen." Meanwhile present Tord freaks out since Edd missed their monthly phone call and isn't answering his phone at all. Red Leader freaks out because his lovers disappear lmao.

Thank you so much for helping me flesh this au out <3

______________________________________

Edd wasn't answering his phone. It'd been a few days and Tord had been trying non-stop. This wasn't like him at all. Whenever Edd missed their agreed time, he always sent a text to apologize and explain what was going on. Or if his phone was destroyed, he'd send a text from one of the other's phones.

All Tord has gotten from his friend was silence.

It unnerved him to no end. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for moving out, for not figuring out a way to make things work with his growing army while still being able to live with his ex-boyfriends.

Though he had heard recently of a new partner.....

Tord shook his head. Not important, he thought.

"Uh, boss?"

Tord snapped his head up from his phone. Pat stood awkwardly in his makeshift office doorway.

"Paul's been trying to call you this past hour. He said, um, that a large man has been chasing your friends around with a gun? He also said that all of them have disappeared and that he can't find them."

Tord felt nauseous with anger and fear. He knew Paul had been trying to call him but he ignored him in favor of trying to reach Edd. Now he really wished he didn't.

Dialing Paul's number, he quickly shooed Pat away and yanked his curtains shut. It wouldn't do shit to stop anyone from hearing if they passed by, but it gave him a nice sense of privacy. And no one could stare at him if he shattered some of the things in his office.

"What's the situation?" he barked out.

"Large man in a trench coat and green hoodie was waving around a gun at Edd," Paul responded immediately. "Kept going on about being Edd from the future and needing to kill him. He saw your friend's new partner and went quiet. Before I could even do anything, he lunged for all four of them and they disappeared in a flash."

Disappeared....?

Tord couldn't stop shaking. "Keep searching! I want updates every hour."

"Got it boss."

He hung up the phone and sat numbly in his chair. With a scream, he picked up his landline phone and threw it across the room.

* * * * * * * * *

"So um. What's the plan?" Tom asked. "I thought you wanted to kill Edd."

Edward, as they had dubbed Edd's future self, didn't look up from the stove. They watched as he poked at the big pot containing spaghetti.

"Uh, hello?" you ask. "Is this an elaborate murder plan? Did you get tired of holding a gun? Also, we can't eat spaghetti tied up."

"Yeah! Untie us!"

Matt wriggled in his ropes and promptly fell off his chair. "Ow!"

Edward sighed. He dropped the spoon and turned around to heft Matt back into his seat.

"Knock it off or I'll leave you on the floor."

He went back to the pot.

"I say we heckle him," Edd whispered.

"Your home sucks," Matt said.

"Yeah I second that. This is a shithole and I mean that lightly."

Edward sighs again. "I am very aware of that Tom. Being on the run from Red Leader doesn't exactly give me a lot of options for places to live."

Since his back is turned to the four of you, he misses the questioning looks you give each other.

"Ok, now I'm going to untie your arms enough that you can eat. Make any sudden movements and you'll fall on the floor. Then you lose all being untied privileges."

#untold but red leader is thrashing his office as this is all happening #tw yandere #yandere future edd #yandere polyworld #yandere ew future edd

[starktonyx]

Something new (Tom Holland x reader) - smut!

Word count: 2.3k

Description: You surprise Tom by deep throathing him for the first time.

Warnings: language, oral sex (obv), minimal gagging and a little bit of dirty talk.

Note: This is my first time writing smut for Tom and I got so inspired that I think I need some holy water after this lmao. Anyway hope you enjoy!

Masterlist 

You were ready.

Ever since you read that damn article on a Cosmopolitan magazine, 'How to deep throat your man like an expert', you hadn't stopped thinking about it for weeks. At first you were hesitant about it, you didn't know if you were going to be capable of pulling it off and you certainly didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of Tom. But hell, Tom, just the thought of having his dick all the way down your throat made you suffocatingly horny. It's not like you haven't given him a blowjob before, it's just that it never got to the point where he literally hit the back of your throat and you really wanted to try it.

So you decided to do it.

But first, you needed to practice. Thank goodness you hadn't thrown away that magazine that included 'five amazing tips on deep throating'. At first you felt quite ridiculous practicing to be honest, but you both always looked for new ways to spice up things in the bedroom and this was absolutely perfect for that. And since you practiced with the vibrator Tom had gotten you for your last birthday, it really made you focus on doing this for him.

Because you wanted to deep throat your man like an expert.

And you were ready now.

The timing seemed to be perfect, Tom would leave for about a month to do the press tour for his upcoming spiderman movie, Far From Home, and since this was your last night together you obviously wanted him to leave satisfied. Although it's not like you guys haven't been fucking everyday to make up for the time he would be gone, but you wanted to give him just a little bit more.

You took a shower and prepared yourself in the room you both shared while he was hanging in the living room. You finished getting in your new lingerie set you bought specially for this occasion, a gorgeous red lace set that left almost nothing to the imagination.

Just like he liked it.

You took a deep breath as you opened the door of your room, revealing Tom comfortably sitting on the couch wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. He was on the phone with whom you supposed was his assistant.

"Yeah yeah I've got everything ready" He affirmed to the person on the phone, oblivious to your figure staring at him.

You sneaked behind the couch just so that he didn't see what you were wearing yet. You pressed your hands on his naked thick shoulders, gently massaging them to try and ease the tension, he always got nervous before press conferences. He gratefully smiled when he felt your hands relaxing him, to which he put his hand on top of yours to somehow thank you.

"Yes, I know I have to be there at 6am. I'll be there" He affirmed once again rolling his eyes, his management team had been repeating the same thing over and over for the last few days.

"You seem a little stressed out baby" You whispered to the ear that didn't have the phone on. His eyes widened when his assistant asked him what was that.

"N-nothing it's just the TV" He lied and you laughed at his dumbass nature. He half turned to look at you and silently told you to stop talking.

You complied and instead of talking decided to go for his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that distracted him from the words the person was saying.

"We expect the flight to arrive at 9 am, that should give us a lot of time to oh–" He moaned just when you hit that sweet spot and instantly covered the phone with his hand when you laughed. He fake coughed to the phone before speaking again "I ... I'm sorry I was saying it should give us a lot of time to arrive to the interview at 12"

You decided it was time to stop playing with him and actually get to the deal, your panties already getting wet from his little moans. You walked around the couch to sit on his lap, admiring Tom's face when he finally realized only a few strands of lace covered your body. My god, the things he wanted to do to you this moment. You moved your hand to his phone but didn't take it away, you just covered it.

"Are you done with that call, baby boy?" You sensually asked as his eyes trailed down your body.

He repeatedly nodded biting his bottom lip and directed himself towards the phone one last time.

"Yeah yeah yeah I'll be there in time, see you there I got to go" He hurriedly said and hung up the phone before getting an answer, tossing it to the side. "Now is my turn darling" He smirked, this time he was the one sucking on your neck.

"Umm Tommy"

You let out the sweet whimpers your boyfriend loved to hear as you started rocking back and forth on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hardening cock under the fabric of his sweatpants. His hands were pinching your butt as he worked his way on you, while yours traveled through his defined torso.

He abandoned your neck and began sucking on your collarbone, with a swift movement he unclasped your bra and now he played with your hard nipples in his mouth.

"You're so damn beautiful love" He said in a husky voice, already leaving marks on your delicate chest claiming you as his.

"Oh baby, don't stop" You pleaded running your hands through his curly hair.

The room was filled with your moans and Tom couldn't be more delighted. He always knew how to make you squirm under his touch, this time was no exception to the point where you almost gave in.

But you remembered your mission.

"I want to try something" You mumbled, almost whining when he separated his lips from your skin.

Tom's eyes glistened with lust, he was always up for new things. He bit his bottom lip as you stood up from his lap to crouch down in front of him, perfectly lining up with his – still covered – crotch.

You took this as your chance to slide down his sweatpants along with his boxers while he lifted his butt to help you, his hard member flying up as it was liberated from the fabric. You lustfully stared at his erection already excited in anticipation.

Of course Tom was also excited, he knew his dick was about to be in that pretty mouth of yours but damn, he didn't know it was going to fill it to the very end. He scooted closer to the edge of the couch so you got a better grip on him and you decided to tease him a little bit first.

"Oh ... fuck" He moaned, his breath hitching when you slowly started sucking the tip, tasting the few drops of pre cum on it.

You began running your tongue up and down his length before putting half of it in your mouth and began slowly sucking, pumping the other half with your hand. He let out soft whimpers as he rested his head on the back of the couch closing his eyes.

"Babe ... stop teasing" He begged slurring his words, as if the teasing was actually painful to him.

You smirked when you had him right how you wanted and with no warning took your hand off to bury his entire dick in your mouth in one go, gagging just a little bit when it hit the back of your throat.

"Ohhh Y/n" Your boyfriend let out the loudest and prettiest moan you've ever heard when his dick traveled all the way down your throat.

He moved his head up from his previous position and stared with wide eyes at you surprised for a second, but then a look of admiration replaced it.

You kept the eye contact with him as you began full on deep throathing his cock now, moving your head up and down until his balls hit your chin, swallowing his whole length. His moans became louder with every move you made, accompanied by silent curses while his dick was throbbing in your mouth.

Tom tried to keep looking at you, the sight was so beautiful he really tried, but the feeling of your mouth wrapping his entire length was so overwhelming that his eyes kept closing every time it touched the back of your throat.

"H-holy fuck darling" He grunted when your mouth left his member to catch your breath for a second and swallow the accumulated saliva.

"You like it baby boy?"  You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him, knowing damn well a few seconds ago he was loving it.

"You better put it back in that pretty mouth of yours now" He ordered answering indirectly your question, his english accent making him sound so dominant.

He laid his back on the couch once again, but this time he was no longer begging, he was the one giving orders. He casually - not really - put his hands behind his head to support it, flexing his strong arms for you.

Fuck, you were sure the carpet under your crouching body was flooded with the juices falling from your dripping pussy. The feeling of Tom's huge cock traveling all the way down your throat already drenched your thong.

So you obliged and once again started going down on his dick, this time putting a hand under your panties to touch yourself. Tom couldn't keep flexing his arms for long when he grabbed a fistful of hair and started pulling and pushing your head to make you go faster, helping you swallow his palpitating member. You started gagging a little bit but didn't mind and kept going, as you enjoyed devouring every single inch of it.

"Mmm yes darling, please..."

His cockiness went away in a second as he became a moaning mess again, he didn't know how much longer he could go until he drowned you in his cum. He began pushing your head harder and couldn't help the grunts that came out his mouth.

You loved his moans and whimpers. Hell, you lived for them. But when he started grunting and growling that's when you knew he was loosing it and was about to come.

And he knew it too.

Because god, the wet sounds your mouth kept making, your desperate hand rubbing yourself and not to mention how beautiful you looked with your mouth full of him was driving him to the edge.

He suddenly stood up from the couch as he tightened his grip on your head, and straight out started pounding into your mouth from his standing position. Your gagging sounds were music to his ears, and his loud grunts were to yours. He made a ponytail with your hair to keep your head in place as he desperately thrusted in and out of your mouth.

"Look at my girl, taking me so good" He proudly praised. "Fuck, you're such a good girl"

With each trust his grunts became louder as he felt his orgasm build up in a way he had never experienced before, all of his senses going crazy when his dick started twitching in your mouth.

"Oh baby ... I'm going to– ugh"

He couldn't finish his sentence as he gave the last thrusts before coming in your mouth, his cum slowly filling your sore throat. Tom tilted his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, he came so hard he felt like he was about to black out from the overwhelming pleasure that ran through his entire body. He finally let go his grip on your hair and pulled his dick from your mouth admiring how, in your still kneeling position, you swallowed every drip of cum he gave you.

"Shit baby, that was so fucking hot" He admitted panting, his pounding heart still ringing in his ears.

You smiled as you wiped off the rests of cum that fell on your chin. He offered you a hand and you gladly took it standing up, he then backed off and threw himself on the couch taking you with him. You both laughed as you landed on top on him, your naked torsos rising up and down with your heavy breaths from your previous activity.

"I'm so glad it really payed off, I practiced a lot actually" You confessed chuckling.

You guessed it didn't come as smooth as you thought it would when he looked at you confused and with a hint of anger he was ready to complain, but you interrupted him before he could speak.

"With the vibrator you gave me dumbass, obviously not with a man" You explained and laughed at his regretting face.

"You had me in the first half love, not gonna lie" He joined your laugh as you shook your head. "So... you practiced a lot huh?" He teasingly asked, to which you smirked.

"Well, I like to make my boy happy" You seductively replied, trailing kisses down his neck once again. "And I wanted to give you something to remember while you are away"

"Oh I'm definitely going to remember that every night" He affirmed before cupping your face with his hands. "Now is my turn to make you happy darling, what do you say I put that vibrator to good use right now" He huskily suggested, feeling your dripping wet pussy on his torso.

"Sure baby boy, as long as you fuck me after that" You playfully whispered in his ear before gently biting it.

You let out a yelp when he quickly lifted you from the couch and stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs on his torso as he walked towards your bedroom.

"Oh darling I will"

He didn't care he had to be up early tomorrow for his flight, he was going to thank his girl for being so good and fuck her until the sun came out.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland reader insert #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #marvel #marvel masterlist #marvel smut #marvel fic #marvel angst #marvel imagine #mcu #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #endgame #far from home #spiderman ffh #tom holland gq #tom holland gif #marvel reader insert

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE PROTEGE (part XVII/?)

Summary: The reader is captured by Hydra in the middle of WWII, when she was a child. Whilst being put through experiments with the tesseract, she briefly crossed paths with Sergeant Barnes. Little did they know they would meet again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!Reader

Genre: angst (with some fluff)

Tags:

The protege: @shane-knight @dormousse @nicholasbich @mscoloneldanvers @spooky-scary-spiderling @lovenaturefirst @marydragneell @bubblycypress87 @eminem-owns-my-asshole @annielovebug22 @gucciofthenorth @thetimidsarcasticcat @k-n-e @existingovertherainbow @superhero2552 @goth-pigeon @daniellajocelyn @to-the-road @shirukitsune @n7siha @the-ayo-lit @v3nusc3 @calwitch @booboobella01 @extisi @michellebarista @ayannaboo1111

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver @angelh1 @randomparanoid @welovecaptainamericaass @gabbie-is-sad @amisutcliff @andy497

Warnings: language and fighting (?)

A/N: slowly picking up the pace, I think I already have an ending and it's definitely not pretty lmao.

The protege masterlist

Due to the immense chaos that had been caused no one really stopped Natalia to ask her who the hell I was in our way to the place where she and her friends were heading before their unfortunate brief encounter with me.

"What happened?" The redhead inquired, stalking as fast as she could to reach a tall, blond haired woman.

"Power went off." The woman responded "probably was a pulse, not sure though." as we walked out of the control room, she gave me a double check with a confused glance.

"She's with me." Natalia clarified. "What about Barnes?"

"The boy's causing serious trouble down there." the man who I recognized as Tony Stark replied, jogging towards us and consecutively motioning the three to follow him.

"Tell me you brought a suit."

"Yes, I did." the billionaire replied. He was lying. "And it's a lovely Tom Ford three-piece two-button." Okay maybe he wasn't lying. "Who the fuck is this-"

His stop made the blond woman bump into him and consequently, made me and Natalia stop.

"You."

"What?" I questioned, appearing to him as confused as possible.

"You're the girl- she's the girl" he bumped the redhead's arm. "What's she doing here- What were you doing with her? What the fuck-"

"There's no time for this." I spoke, walking past the three people. Though before I could take the first step, the brunet gripped my forearm. "let go."

"Tony-"

"She's here to help him escape." he spoke, digging his eyes in my form. "She could've done this."

"Tony," Natalia put her hand on Stark's shoulder and gave him a gentle yet firm tug. "she's here to help. Let go of her."

"Listen to your friend or I'll break your arm."

"Yeah that sounds super friendly to me." his sarcasm sounded like poison to me. "What do you think Carter?"

"We really don't have time for this." The blond agent replied. "But after this you're coming with me." She added. "C'mon now."

Not even three minutes passed before we could hear the shots, hits and the screams.

"Okay Romanoff, with Carter, trouble girl with me." we moved fast in order to stay as covered as possible until we could easily get close enough to James without getting killed in the crossfire. "your name?" I shot him a glare. "what? Give me something girl."

"Y/n." I replied, getting my gloves out of my pockets to put them on at the same time as he turned his watch into a hand weapon.

"I hope you know that I have questions."

"Too bad you won't get answers." I responded staring at him with the ghost of a grin in my gaze.

"you worked with him?"

"You could say so, yeah." I lifted my chin, prompting the billionaire to look behind him. "You first, Ironman."

Stark's fight was good enough to keep up with The Asset's training for the time that it took me to get ready.

Stark was down, Carter entered the game.

I knew the Black Widow had the intention to follow her colleague's lead, but she took a peek at me first and gave me the cue to accompany her in the task.

Her knee went straight to his abdomen, pushing him back. She kept moving, well aware of the fact that the moment he caught her she was done.

I slid in their direction with my foot before me; Natalia twirled out of my way just in time for me not to break her leg.

The Asset fell back and I rolled a couple of feet away to be able to push myself up without getting knocked out by him.

The blonde, in an attempt to lend a hand, kicked Him in the back, just for his metal fist to grab her leg and violently slamming her against one of the tables.

Stark got up and stalked to the Soldier in order to get him off the poor girl, but Natalia —I supposed she had caught up on what I was about to do— threw herself over her friend.

"Y/n do it!" She shouted.

When my name was heard, the soldier turned around so fast, almost as if he remembered me.

Did he?

Not the time for that, I reminded myself planting my feet firm on the cold floor and getting both my hands up.

"мне жаль" I murmured an apology, hardly loud enough for him to hear.

With a groan, I brought my hands to my chest as the sphere formed between them, and in a split second, my arms shot the concentrated energy to the Soldier and threw him yards away from us.

To my luck, that was just where the stairs were.

"What the FUCK?" the billionaire yelled, looking at me in awe and fear at the same time. "What are you." in the meantime, The soldier had recovered from the impact and was currently moving upstairs.

I ignored his question, running upstairs, chasing after the soldier.

I lost him for a couple of seconds, which led to take the wrong turn.

The fact that I ended up in the same rooftop he was in, didn't make it any better; not only had he gotten a helicopter, but we now were accompanied by a very stressed out Steve Rogers, who, apparently, had no common sense. Before I could sprint to try to stop the soldier, Rogers grabbed the goddamn helicopter and tried —and shockingly seemed to succeed, somehow— to pull it back to the rooftop.

"Rogers!" I shouted his name when he started to look like he was about to get ripped in half. "Let go!"

The blond man, more confused than anything else, relaxed his muscles, but right when I was about to pull the helicopter back, the soldier lashed out against the captain.

My first instinct was to focus on the propeller and, using the energy, pull them towards me right before making a small energy rift appear just a couple steps before me.

Before the propellers could reach me, I threw myself on my knees and quickly slid into the rift, teleporting myself to Steve's side, who looked at me quite shocked.

"We need to get him out." I spoke attempting to make him react. "My name is Y/n, and I want to help James as much as you." That seemed to slap him out of the surrealistic moment he had just witnessed.

"Okay... Okay, help me open the-" he was cut midsentence when a metal arm crashed through the glass in front of us to choke the man besides me.

I was just getting my hands between the two men in an attempt to pull them apart when I felt the helicopter falling off.

I let go and jumped back to the rooftop, but they obviously didn't. "Fuck..." I muttered to myself, getting up to see the helicopter sinking in the water. "Okay..." I looked behind me to check the door didn't open while I took a couple of steps back, so I could be able to run up.

I literally took a leap of faith and prayed for me not to die in the fall.

Once in the water, considering that Steve had just managed to get an unconscious James out of the aircraft, it all went pretty smooth.

I only had to grab them both and throw them with me into one of my rifts.

I hadn't counted on the effort that would supposed to drag two people with me through a rift I had to create under the water, after a free fall.

When we crashed against the pavement in the shed I was planning on teleporting after all of this had happened, I felt myself dizzying very quickly.

I planted my hands firmly against the pavement as I tried to regulate my breathing. "Hey you okay?" Steve's voice sounded distant to me, even though he was right besides me. "Y/n? Are you alright?" I felt a pair of strong hands helping me incorporate and guiding me to sat with my back against the wall.

"I'm fine." I assured, this time with words. "I just- it was a lot and I didn't do that since... I don't know." I closed my eyes and opening them again when finally managed to control my breathing. "I just need a moment."

"Listen, I don't know who you are." Steve started, taking a look at James, who was still unconscious. The blonde had laid them against the opposite wall to us. "But you put your life on the line for us twice in a day." he sat in front of me with crossed legs. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't worry." I simply replied with a shake of my head. "we have to tie him to somewhere before he wakes up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you call your friend already?" I inquired from the inside of the shed loud enough for Steve to hear while he got back inside."

"He's nearby but stopped to get us some clothes." he informed me, stopping in the gates from were he could check up on his friend.

"what happened back there?"

"Someone wanted really bad to have a talk with Bucky."

"Bucky." the nickname rolling out of my tongue felt as if I was naming an old friend that I had never really met.

"How do you call him?" The curiosity had to come out at some point, I thought.

"James."

"For... For how long have you known each other?"

Wow, the questions were going to be one hell of a headache.

"Uhm... For as long as I can remember." the answer was a vague one, yet somehow very accurate. "he... Kind of trained me."

"You're like him?" I denied and he nodded, and then we fell in another heavy silence. "I... I have to ask. Did he... Uh..."

"Remember you?" I finished while my brain buzzed trying to order my damaged memories. "I, myself, can't remember much but I think he mentioned you a couple of times."

I was lying, but it was a white lie- the whitest lie I would ever tell. His face lit up when I said it, and that somehow made a spark of happiness lighten my dark, cold heart.

"What you did back there- was it Hydra?"

"Yeah." I confirmed, staring at my gloves that now rested on an item belonging to the place we were in. "The tesseract. They experimented with it and... this came out."

Another heavy silence.

"Steve?" both our heads spun to the entrance, where a man was standing with a bag in his hand.

"Sam." Steve turned around to walk towards the third man, who also stepped in Steve's direction and consequently, in mine. "He's still unconscious, she's with us." He pointed at me. "Her name's Y/n."

Once the sun stopped hitting his backs, I was able to see the stranger's face, who was already looking at me with a frown.

"Wait, I know you." He stated stopping Steve by his arm. "She was at the helicarrier back in Washington."

#marvel imagine #marvel one shot #bucky barnes x reader #marvel miniseries #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #winter soldier au #the winter soldier oneshot #winter soldier smut #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #black widow x reader #steve rogers fic #marvel oneshot #bucky barnes series #the winter soldier series

[battlestar-royco]

I love how no one calls Feyre out for her entitlement to titles she has not worked for. In the first chapters of ACOMAF she acted like she didn't care about her title as High Lady when she was with Tamlin, but the moment he clarifies that there have been no High Ladies until now, she complains and whines about not being equal to him and gushes over Rhys when he gives her it without a second thought. For someone that claims her books are feminist, SJM isn't shy to make MEN give women power.

Fayre’s entitlement throughout the AC0TAR series is so… intriguing lmao. It’s a study in both self-absorption and Rice Sand glorification. Tom Lane is so mean for not letting her be HL, even though this is a societal issue that randomly showed up in AC0MAF to show how amazing Rice is. L/ucien is a demonstrably terrible person for not busting her out of the Spring Court when Tom’s monstrous side came out. N/esta and E/lain are despicable for not wanting to house Fayre and her bougie aggressive friends. The six mortal queens are war criminals for not helping Rice. T/arquin isn’t worth negotiating with for the Book. L/ucien should always be emotionally available when she needs a friend. He doesn’t deserve her help when he’s about to be raped by I/anthe. N/esta should be nice and try to fit in with the Nite Court. M0r should accept Assriel into her heart because Fayre ships them. Everyone aside from Fayre and Rice are at fault for something terrible that happened to her, or their life choices have displeased her in some way. All the suffering experienced or achievements made by anyone in the novels is relative to Fayre and Rice.

The social structure of P/rythian is oppressive when Fayre isn’t HL; fuck the I/llyrian women, M0r, the Arch sisters, and the lesser fae I guess. She deserves to be HL because she suffered UtM, and everyone else’s trauma is irrelevant because of what she went through. L/ucien is a bad friend when he doesn’t complete Herculean tasks for her safety, but she needn’t concern herself with his safety from their mutual abuser Tom or his literal rapist I/anthe. As far as she’s concerned, he never traveled across the continent on foot to save her from her kidnap by a sadistic tyrant, and he never offered to save her from A/marantha free of charge and out of the goodness of his heart (unlike a certain drug-happy arm-breaking coercer). N/esta and E/lain’s hatred/wariness of the fae is shameful despite Fayre’s hatred a few months ago being so strong that she killed one in cold blood. Her sisters, despite being part of the oppressed race and disadvantaged in every way possible, should open their home to strange men without question. Who cares if they start harassing her sisters; who wouldn’t want to be fucked by an I/llyrian fey mail!? The mortal queens should lend all their help for a war in which they have absolutely no stake, fought by a species that oppressed them, and headed by an idiot whose public image was purposely cultivated to make him look like a ruthless warmonger. Rice doesn’t need to treat his potential allies with such respect though. He and Fayre can just steal Summer’s artifacts as they please and murder all Hibern warriors after a battle is done because they feel like it. They can issue commands to other HLs outside of their jurisdiction because they SuFfErEd UtM. Fayre doesn’t need to care about N/esta and E/lain’s human lives or help them adjust to fae life; they should automatically get along with these people who they were raised to hate and immediately cope despite Fayre herself suffering PTSD which magically disappears mid-MAF. M0r’s attraction to women gets in the way of Fayre shipping M0riel and Assriel being happy, even though Fayre herself just got out of a toxic relationship where the guy “loved her too much.” She’s the worst narrator ever and one of the most entitled YA protagonists I’ve ever read.

#anti acotar #anti sjm #rape tw #abuse tw #ask to tag