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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

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Written for a @astrangersummer.

Tip Your Driver

Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.

And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.

He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.

The house is really nice.

It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.

Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in.

No, now he's pretty annoyed.

Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash.

He's skeptical.

Steve looks back at the house.

Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.

At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.

Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.

But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.

"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.

Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off.

Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.

"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him.

"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"

Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.

Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.

"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.

"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.

"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.

"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.

Eddie ignores the question from his dad.

"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step.

Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house.

Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first.

Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."

Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."

"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.

He's honestly gorgeous.

Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.

Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.

Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?"

"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."

"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.

That's a lot of beans.

"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries.

But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now."

Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.

"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."

"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.

Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.

"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers.

"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."

"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."

Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."

Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"

Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.

They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.

At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside.

Holy shit.

That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.

And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two.

It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.

Now, it's different.

Robin's gonna shit.

Hot damn.

Thank you, Eddie.

"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter.

Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day.

"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs.

"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction.

She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles.

"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.

"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says.

"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house."

"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.

Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos."

"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?"

He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus.

He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel."

She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?"

No.

"Him?"

No.

"Him?"

"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of.

"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks.

"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says.

"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."

"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes.

"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today."

Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time."

"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically.

At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.

Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.

And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.

Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.

He's gonna risk it.

Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.

The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here.

There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.

"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing.

He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual.

Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time.

Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb.

Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.

"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."

"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.

"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"

Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."

Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"

Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.

"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."

"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."

Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.

"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.

The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."

Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.

The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.

Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.

This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.

Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"

Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.

"How's your hip?" Steve asks.

"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.

"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."

Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."

"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.

"Indiana," Wayne says.

"Hey! For me, too. Small world."

"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"

"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."

Wayne nods.

"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.

"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."

Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."

Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.

"That's me," Steve confirms.

"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."

Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.

Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.

"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."

Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"

"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."

"Don't we all," Steve says.

"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."

Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None.

"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."

Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.

Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify.

He doesn't belong here.

He takes one last look at Eddie.

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.

And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car.

"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows.

"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.

"You're leaving already?"

Steve nods, "Work, you know."

Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."

Steve turns to keep walking.

"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets.

He looks nervous.

He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn.

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"

Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."

Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.

Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.

Steve wants to, he really does.

"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."

"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.

"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns.

"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.

And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."

"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."

Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."

Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes.

Well. That's how it goes.

Very, very well.

So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.

"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."

"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.

Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

#a stranger summer #week fifteen #prompt: modern au #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #wayne munson #stranger things fic #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #steddie #platonic stobin #steve x eddie #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer

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star-hoon · 7 months ago

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OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2

I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX

READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST

pairing: sunghoon x fem reader

includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, SMUT (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta) (let me know if i missed anything!)

word count: 4.3k

synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?

author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!

OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK

“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.

holy. fuck. it was sage.

the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.

you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.

you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.

you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!

sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.

his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.

you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.

"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."

sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.

"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.

you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.

"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"

"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.

sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."

the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.

her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.

best friend. ex. .....

you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.

even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.

but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.

"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"

sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"

"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.

it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.

"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.

"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.

people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.

"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."

tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?

she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.

you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.

"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.

he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.

you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.

"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."

your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.

usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.

you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.

the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.

your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"

the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.

"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"

'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.

you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.

"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"

"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.

you could not look him in the eye and tell him.

"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.

"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."

shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.

"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."

he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.

"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."

you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.

"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.

"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."

you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.

you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.

the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.

you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.

you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.

is that really how sage felt about you all this time?

you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?

is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?

you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.

you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.

you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.

you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.

calling 'park sunghoon'....

after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.

"hey, may i ask who's calling?"

"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"

there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.

"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.

"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."

he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.

"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."

"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.

"of course, i'll be there 5"

you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.

sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.

"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.

"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"

you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.

sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.

you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.

"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.

you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".

different he thought.

he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.

"y/n-"

"i-"

he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."

"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."

"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"

you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.

"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"

"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.

"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.

"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.

sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.

he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.

"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."

you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.

"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."

he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.

you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.

what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.

you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.

but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.

the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.

he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.

"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"

he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.

you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.

you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.

the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.

he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.

he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.

he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.

his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.

"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."

you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.

"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.

"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.

understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.

you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.

"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?

you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.

his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.

he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.

"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"

"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.

"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.

with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"

"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.

"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.

when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"

"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.

he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.

"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.

"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.

his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.

"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.

"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.

"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.

sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.

your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.

sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.

the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.

"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"

he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"

sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.

"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.

you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.

"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.

he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.

"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.

"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.

who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?

taglist: @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz

ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH

+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!

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confused-pyramid · 10 months ago

Text

One Step From Grace | s4

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: 19.2k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26

a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man

series masterlist

"Garcia, is everyone okay?"

You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.

"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."

He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."

"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.

She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.

"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.

Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.

"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"

Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."

She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"

"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."

Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"

"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.

It's not your place to have this discussion.

Screw you.

"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.

"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."

***

You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.

You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.

When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.

"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."

You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.

He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."

He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.

You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.

Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.

***

"There's a bomb on the ambulance."

Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.

Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."

He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"

Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."

"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.

He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."

The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.

Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.

"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."

A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."

All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.

***

You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.

"What are you still doing here?"

You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.

You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."

His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."

"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."

That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.

He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."

"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."

You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.

"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.

He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."

You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.

"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."

Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.

You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."

The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."

Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.

The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.

"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."

You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"

He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."

The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."

His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.

***

You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.

You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.

"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."

After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.

"Chloe, drop the gun."

The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"

She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.

As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."

His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."

It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.

"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."

"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."

He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."

The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"

"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.

***

"Stand!"

You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.

He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me, about a raid, maybe?"

You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."

He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.

You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."

You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."

She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.

It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.

You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.

Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.

***

He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.

He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.

"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.

Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."

His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.

"Her name was Nancy Lunde."

His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.

But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."

He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.

He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.

***

You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.

You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.

"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."

"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"

"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.

"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"

"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."

Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.

"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."

Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.

***

The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.

"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."

You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.

They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.

"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."

Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.

Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.

***

"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."

Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.

"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.

***

"Which one of you is it?"

Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.

"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"

Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"

You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.

Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.

Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."

The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.

***

It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.

Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.

"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.

Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"

She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.

Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.

***

When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.

You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.

You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.

"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.

Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.

When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.

"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."

"He just did."

There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"

You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"

"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."

She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"

Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.

***

He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.

He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.

He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.

When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."

You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.

***

The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.

"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.

After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"

"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.

Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."

You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.

"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.

You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."

You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."

She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."

When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.

***

"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."

He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.

Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.

His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.

When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.

"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."

"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.

But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"

You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.

"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"

His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.

"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."

To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"

He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."

"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."

"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.

"One."

"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."

You nod after a second. "I'll take it."

Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."

You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."

"Love you too, honey."

***

Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.

"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."

You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?

"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.

"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."

You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."

"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."

You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."

He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.

"What are you thinking about?"

You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."

He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."

"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."

Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."

His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."

You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."

He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"

"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."

You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."

You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."

His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.

You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.

You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.

As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.

"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."

You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"

You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.

"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."

He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?

You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.

You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.

"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.

Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"

He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.

"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.

"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."

***

Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.

"I can walk!"

"I don't care."

"Dad, come on."

He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."

You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.

"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."

"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.

"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.

"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."

You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"

He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"

You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.

"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."

"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.

Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.

"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."

"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."

"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."

He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.

It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.

"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."

"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."

"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."

"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.

"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."

"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"

"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."

You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.

Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.

You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.

***

It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.

"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"

"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.

"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.

"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"

"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."

Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."

"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"

"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."

She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."

You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."

She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."

"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."

He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."

"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."

Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."

He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."

"This would be my brownie."

Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"

Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."

JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"

"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."

"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."

***

Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.

You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.

You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.

As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.

You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.

He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.

When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.

The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.

"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.

"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."

You flash your eyes at Derek.

The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"

She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."

"A guess."

You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.

She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."

You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."

Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."

"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.

"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."

He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.

"From now on, everything goes through me."

Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"

Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."

He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."

She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.

***

The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.

You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.

"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."

You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?

You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.

"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."

"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."

Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."

The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.

"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"

He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.

'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.

Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."

***

His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.

He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.

He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.

The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?

His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.

The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.

"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"

He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."

He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"

The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."

You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"

He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."

"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."

He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"

"Yeah, just one second."

He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."

You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.

***

Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."

You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."

"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.

Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."

He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"

You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."

You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."

He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.

"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."

You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."

"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."

You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.

***

You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.

You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.

You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.

You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.

"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."

You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"

He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.

"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."

You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."

He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."

He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.

He's your best friend, and you love him.

***

One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.

You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.

Is this my fault?

Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.

I'm not sure I can do this job.

There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.

Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.

"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.

"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.

Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."

Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."

He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."

She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.

"You gotta hold his head up."

"Careful, you're smothering him!"

"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."

Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."

He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."

He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."

***

"What's up, Hotch?"

You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.

"We have a case."

You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"

"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."

"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.

"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.

So much for a full night of rest.

***

Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.

"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."

"Poisoned?" you clarify.

"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."

"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."

Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."

You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."

"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"

This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."

"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."

Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."

You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."

Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."

***

When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.

The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.

When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.

"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"

Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.

You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."

Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.

"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."

He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.

"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.

"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.

Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."

The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"

Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."

You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.

"Do you have kids?"

Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".

The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.

"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."

"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.

He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"

There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.

"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."

His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.

There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."

The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."

There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.

***

You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.

The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.

"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.

His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."

"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.

He nods. "It's over. She knows it."

Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.

"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."

He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.

He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.

Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.

You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.

"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."

You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"

He nods again. "Let's go home."

***

It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.

Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.

Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.

"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"

She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."

Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"

She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.

The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.

She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.

"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."

Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."

You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.

"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."

She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"

She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."

Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"

"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."

Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."

Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."

Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.

***

Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"

He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."

"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"

He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"

He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"

You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.

He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."

JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"

"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.

"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.

You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.

"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."

He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."

"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"

He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."

His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."

"The Reaper has started killing again."

***

The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.

You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"

He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."

"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."

You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"

"I may know him better than I've let on."

Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"

"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."

"You said you were called off before you could make one-"

"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."

You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."

He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."

You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.

Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."

***

After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.

"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.

"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."

"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."

He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.

He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."

He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.

"Hotch, what was that?"

He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.

"Was that him?"

He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"

His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."

***

"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."

The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.

Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"

You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."

Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"

"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.

"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.

"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."

Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.

When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."

"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."

Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.

He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."

Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"

Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"

Rossi shrugs. "All of them."

You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.

***

George Foyet is the Reaper.

You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.

I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.

His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.

Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."

***

It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.

Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.

This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.

But you don't say it.

***

He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.

You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"

"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."

"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"

This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.

"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."

He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."

"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.

He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."

"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."

His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.

"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."

That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."

***

You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.

Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.

Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.

"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.

Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."

He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."

You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.

"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."

You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."

***

Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?

You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.

A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.

"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.

"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"

"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."

"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.

"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."

As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.

"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."

"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.

"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."

She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.

"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."

They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."

She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."

"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."

She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"

You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.

"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."

"You are too."

"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."

You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."

Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."

Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."

Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.

It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.

Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."

It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."

"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."

That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."

It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."

Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.

"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."

Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.

"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."

He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.

The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.

The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."

You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."

As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.

He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.

You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.

***

You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.

89 pairs of shoes.

You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.

"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."

You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.

"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."

You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.

It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."

He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."

You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.

"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."

He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."

You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."

His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"

During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.

The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.

"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."

"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."

You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.

"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.

You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."

His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."

It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.

Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.

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writerslittlelibrary · 11 months ago

Text

So, I'm not a prisoner? part 2

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: like, one swear word

genre: fluff, angst

words: 2554

a/n: I apologise if this chapter isn’t the best. I’m in a bit of a depression slum so I’m not really motivated to do anything right now. I might come back later and fix this chapter a bit

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

After leaving the apartment, you immediately noticed the SHIELD agents piled up outside. They must have been listening to your conversation.

Natasha led you towards a SHIELD car, opening the door for you, allowing you to get in. She got in the drivers seat, and followed by about a dozen other SHIELD trucks, she drove towards an airport nearby.

The Quinjet was waiting at the airport, Clint Barton apparently inside of it.

“I know this must be very overwhelming for you,” Natasha spoke, glancing towards you before focusing on the road again.

You stayed quiet, instead staring out the window as you watched all objects blur.

“I promise you we are going to help you,” Natasha affirmed. You turned your head, looking at her.

“You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you are certain they won’t lock me away the moment I set foot in there,” you stated, and Natasha looked at you, giving you a sad smile.

“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you won’t be locked away,” Natasha started, focusing back on the road and taking a deep breath.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked.

“I’ll think of something. I can put you under my supervision. I can lock you in a room and make sure you can leave it with me. Anything. I will come up with anything,” Natasha assured you. You didn’t want to believe her. You didn’t believe her, yet for some reason, whether it was her tone or the way that she spoke, you couldn’t help but deep down, believe her, even just a little.

You sighed and looked back out the window, wanting nothing but to wake up from this nightmare.

Yet then again, if this were a nightmare, wouldn’t you just wake up in your old one?

Your mind was a mess, and you could hear all the voices in your head scream at you. You saw Madame B every time you closed your eyes, just yelling at you. Telling you what a screw-up you were. Telling you all the ways that you failed them.

You always hated Natasha Romanoff for being a traitor, but now you met her, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were wrong.

And even if you weren’t, you were now officially a traitor as well.

You wanted to make Dreykov proud. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? If you made him proud, you’d get rewarded. You were the pride jewel. He loved you, didn’t he? He cared about you. You weren’t some disposable Widow. You knew that. But, then again, he was the one that told you that. And could he really be trusted?

You groaned slightly, rubbing your temple with your right hand and you closed your eyes.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, giving you a concerned glance.

“I’m fine,” you bit back quickly, hating to look weak. Natasha didn’t take you response as hurtful. She knew you weren’t actively trying to hurt her. She understood the way you were raised, and she’d be damned if she, or anyone else, would ever misunderstand you.

The drive to the airport didn’t take long, and soon enough you could spot the Quinjet from the car.

“You brought the Avengers superjet…?” you asked, and Natasha gave you a small smile as she nodded. “That’s not exactly subtle…” you told her, yet Natasha just shrugged.

“It’s fast,” she responded, driving the car as close as she could get it to the Quinjet. Once she stopped the car, she got out, walking over to your side and opening the door for you. You didn’t acknowledge it as you got out, immediately noticing the other SHIELD trucks that were parked closely.

Some agents stood outside their cars, their hand on their weapon as they watched you.

You noticed a woman walking towards you, and you took a step back when you decided she was way to close.

The woman didn’t acknowledge your defensive attitude, instead holding up a pair of handcuffs and reaching for your hands.

You pulled your hands back, and before the woman could say anything, Natasha had noticed what was going on, stepping in front of you and stopping the woman.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, despite the fact it was obvious.

“It’s protocol,” the woman claimed, yet when she tried to step towards you again, Natasha stopped her.

“She came willingly,” Natasha stated, but the woman just shook her head.

You noticed neither of them were going to give up, and quite honestly you just wanted to get rid of the woman. And so, you took a step forward, holding up your hands to the woman, giving her an expecting look.

Natasha looked a bit shocked, yet didn’t take long to place her hand on your arm.

“You really don’t have to,” she stated, but you interrupted her.

“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you stated, and the woman nodded as she made quick work of handcuffing you.

After she was finished, Natasha gently took your upper arm, leading you towards the Quinjet. Clint Barton was already waiting on board, having a small smile on his face when he spotted you two.

“Hey kid, nice to see you turn over a new leaf,” he said, yet you just scoffed.

He didn’t seem offended, but rather just smiled and turned the chair around, facing the control panel.

He pressed a few buttons, and the Quinjet closed.

“Take a seat. We’ll be flying for a few hours,” Natasha announced, and you nodded as you held up the pair of handcuffs.

A look of shock and confusion took place on Natasha’s face, before she quickly regained herself and gave you her famous smirk.

“Damn… You’re good good,” she told you, and you gave her a small smile before you sat down on a seat.

Natasha discarded of the handcuffs, placing them in some cupboard before taking a seat next to you. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’re not showing it, and you’ll never admit it, but I promise you, I will make sure everything is gonna be alright,” Natasha said, looking forward, not wanting to pressure you.

You would of course never let her know, but you appreciated what she said. You would indeed never admit it, but you were scared.

You weren’t just scared of the Avengers, though. You were afraid of what Dreykov would do to you. You were afraid what he would think, and what he would say. He would be so disappointed. Natasha Romanoff was right there. The traitor is sitting right next to you. You could so very easily just kill her. Slit her throat. Her guard was down. She would never see it coming. Dreykov would be so proud.

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to kill her, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself debating whether you should kill her or not.

Never once in your life did you think about killing someone or not. Never once did you think about the consequences. I was always just another assignment. Another person you had to wipe from existence, and you never, ever, dared to give it a second thought.

This experience was weird for you.

You didn’t really want to kill Natasha, but yet again, you were supposed to, so why wouldn’t you? It’s not like you really cared whether Natasha lived or died. Did you?

You simply sighed and let your head fall back against the wall behind you, closing your eyes and letting your thought run through your head. What would Dreykov say? You knew what he would say. Deep down, you knew he didn’t care.

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

After the Quinjet landed, Natasha and Clint guided you through the Avengers tower, claiming they need to take you to an office so you could speak with the director, Nick Fury.

You, of course, knew exactly where that office was, yet you decided to keep your mouth shut and just follow them. You didn’t want to make this situation worse for yourself. You knew the entire lay-out of the Avengers towers, and you were pretty certain Natasha was aware of that.

Once you took the elevator and made it to the office, Nick Fury was sitting behind his desk, Maria Hill standing of to the side with a clip board in her hand.

There were Shield agents standing outside the door, and you were pretty sure they were there to make sure you couldn’t try anything.

“Take a seat,” Nick Fury simply said, and you looked at Natasha unimpressed, before you took a step forward, setting yourself down in the seat at the other side of the desk, across from Nick Fury.

“You understand we cannot trust you, correct?” Fury stated, and you looked him in the eyes, enough for him to accept it as a yes, apparently.

“Director Hill,” Fury then mentioned, getting up from his seat.

Maria Hill walked towards the desk, placing her clip board on it as she sat down herself. She gave you a small smile. You didn’t return it.

You were focused on your surroundings. Clint had left the room. Natasha was leaning against the wall next to the door. She probably didn’t want to disturb the conversation, yet she didn’t want to leave you alone. Maybe she just wanted to keep her eye on you.

Before Fury walked away, he turned to look at you.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he stated, before walking towards the door, leaving the room.

You turned your gaze back to Maria, who had picked up a pen, now waiting for your attention to turn back to her. Once it did, she began speaking.

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and you just try and answer them to the best of you abilities,” she explained, and you nodded slightly.

“Could you please state your full name and date of birth?”

“Y/n, the rest I don’t know…” you replied, and Maria nodded. “Do you have any idea of how old you may be?” she asked and you nodded, giving her your assumed age.

She wrote the information down, scratching some things out on the clipboard before turning to the next question.

“Do you know where you were born?” she asked, and you nodded.

“I was born in Russia, but I’m not sure whether my parents were Russian,” you explained, and Maria nodded as she wrote it all down.

“Have you always been in Russia?”

You shook your head, briefly telling her about certain mission you had been on that took longer than a month.

There was that time in Seattle, when you lived with another Red Room Widow pretending to be your mother. You had gone to an actual school, and you had had actual friends.

There was another time in the Netherlands, when you were with a Hydra agent. Something about a debt Dreykov owed to Alexander Pierce. You had been chosen for a mission with a Hydra agent. You were posing as a normal teenager, whose mother passed, which is why your father moved you all the way to the Netherlands. You enjoyed the learning the language, yet you found it one of the harder ones to master due to the many odd rules.

Maria wrote every single detail you told her down, not missing a single thing as she made sure everything was on paper.

After a few more questions, and many ‘I don’t know’s’ from you, Maria finally put her pen down, smiling at you gently.

“That’s all for now,” she explained and you nodded.

“Come on,” you heard Natasha say, and you got up, walking towards her.

“See you later,” she told Maria before guiding you out. Were they a thing? Did Natasha see how Maria blushed? Did Natasha notice how she herself blushed?

Whatever.

Natasha led you towards the elevator, pressing a button, then entering a code. You learned about this. To get to the living quarters of the Avengers tower, you had to enter a code. This was to prevent any unwanted visitors in the living space of the Avengers.

Once the elevator opened, Natasha led you out, guiding you towards a hallway. You followed her the entire way, making sure to walk at least a metre behind her.

You weren’t allowed to walk next to your superiors, and even though you weren’t sure what you place in this tower would be, you didn’t want to take any chances. You didn’t want to stray to far from the manners you were taught.

Natasha probably noticed, but whether she did or not, she decided not to mention it.

Eventually, she stopped in front of a door, pushing a key in the keyhole and unlocking it.

“This will be you room,” she smiled and pushed the door open. “My room is across from this one, and the only other people in this hallway are Wanda and Carol, but she is not often on earth,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as if you didn’t already know it.

You stepped into the bedroom, and it took you a moment to process the fact, that all that space, would be yours now.

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, waiting by the door.

“It’s so… big…” you stated, slowly walking further into the room. Natasha smiled as she made her way towards another door.

“This is the bathroom. I stocked it with some basic supplies beforehand, so you’ll probably be good for a little while, or just until we get the chance to go shopping,” Natasha stated as she closed the door again.

“This is the closet,” she explained, walking over to the piece of furniture and opening it.

“Right now, there are just some things from me and Wanda that will probably be wearable for you, but we’ll get you some new clothes soon,” Natasha smiled, and you nodded.

Natasha walked over to the desk, sitting down on the desk chair and looking at the ground. It seemed she had something to say, and it would be something you wouldn’t like. You took a seat on the bed, across from her, and simply waited until she spoke.

“Now, because we do not know you, we cannot just let you roam freely around the tower. I managed to convince Fury you shouldn’t be put in a cell, but unfortunately, this door will have to be locked until further notice,” Natasha explained and you nodded.

“He’d be stupid not to,” you replied, and Natasha nodded, giving you a small smile.

“I promise I will come check on you often, okay? And you can leave the room if you are accompanied, so I will make sure to take you on some daily walks or something, alright?” Natasha explained, and you nodded, giving her a smile in return.

“I promise you, everything will only get better now,” Natasha told you, and you nodded as she got up, walking towards the door.

“I’ll get you something to eat, and some entertainment,” she explained, and she left the room.

Suddenly, you were left alone. This was your room. You made the choice. You were officially a traitor. There was no going back. You did this to yourself. You royally screwed up. Or perhaps, just maybe, you made a really good choice?...

Tags: @wandanatlov3r @tobiaslut @natashasgirlll @xanthreee

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

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theanxiousbookdevourer · 5 months ago

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We Do Not Deserve Lt. Kim Kitsuragi.

Warning: Language, racism, and Disco Elysium spoilers.

Let's face it: We disappoint the lieutenant left and right. Sometimes in jest...

... and sometimes for very legitimate reasons, just a few of which I'm forcing you to look at now.

He can even get angry at us.

And, of course, there's the thing everyone knows about but no one wants to see.

(I hate that part.)

(That part too.)

It honestly amazes me that he still sticks by us. I could claim the game has to, since it has to follow a certain narrative, but I really don't think that's it.

When we get shot, he still tries to keep us talking. He still tries to save us.

And if he gets shot, he still does everything he can to make sure we're okay.

We all talk about how he has the patience of a saint, but for the most part, we're talking about our stupid little screw-ups.

These things are different. These things are hurtful. And still, despite all of this, he will do his best to save us... in every way he can.

We do not deserve Lt. Kim Kitsuragi. But he stays anyway. And that is why it kills me to disappoint him. Not just when we ask about too many cryptids but when we somehow manage to stab the back of a man who rarely ever turns his back on us. And that is quite the accomplishment.

(Damaged Morale. Damaged Morale. Damaged Morale.)

#disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #kim kitsuragi #lt. kim kitsuragi #this is a cry for help #to please help me get this man off my mind #harry du bois #if you managed to get through this post #congratulations #you are a masochist

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tink27 · 1 year ago

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Steddie ficlet (might do a follow up to show Eddie's reaction)

"He likes a boy"

after years of friendship, and being joined at the proverbial hip, Robin liked to think she could read Steve pretty well, however, his love of being just vague enough to confuse her made this difficult.

"who likes a what now?" still trying to get a read on Steve's feelings, but as of right now he just seemed, disconnected. Since showing up unexpectedly at her house, he had maintained that far-away sort of look that showed that even Steve didn't know what he was feeling.

"Eddie... he... we were hanging out and he" finally he fully met Robin's gaze, and the heartbroken edge to his vacant stare became evident "he was implying, heavily, that he likes me"

"... likes likes you?"

Steve's expression briefly switched to mocking disbelief at her childish choice of words, but he didn't have the energy for any kind of clever retort

"Yes Robin! like likes me!" throwing up his hands before allowing them to smack down against their Jeans ("their" because they fit them both and had been making the rotation between both Steve and Robin's wardrobe for months, she wasn't entirely sure who they belonged to to begin with, not that it mattered)

"And you're... upset?" This was baffling because in the months since Eddie returned for the upside-down, the two had never been closer. Far too many shifts consisted of Steve waxing poetic about Eddie while Robin vaguely tried to relate and be supportive. Although why Steve seemed so utterly smitten as he talked about Eddie's hair or musical elitism would never really make sense to Robin. But still, she saw how they were together.

Steve had a bad track record for love, pouring every part of himself into another person in a way that was truly heartbreaking to watch. However, it became significantly less heartbreaking when it was accompanied by Eddie's eyes following Steve around every room, and always looking to him in conversations no matter who was there because it was Steve's opinion and thoughts that mattered to him most. They truly were obsessed with each other, and honestly, Robin had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So Steve's stricken expression made no sense, nor did his frustration that Robin - despite being his platonic soulmate - didn't magically understand the issue he was having.

"I dont know Robs, its just he likes... Steve Harrington" his voice was defeated as he said it, but it still explained nothing

"....you're Steve Harrington" The confusion in her voice was evident "Am I missing something here, this isn't a 'King Steve' thing is it, because Eddie has made it pretty clear that he thought you were a jerk back then"

the noise of frustration from Steve showed she clearly had missed the point and never had she wished so badly to read her best friend's mind as when the tears began to well up in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but knew from experience that Steve needed to get the thoughts out first.

There was a minute of silence that Robin had to try desperately to not break, every instinct wanting to spit out an awkward and unhelpful comment to lighten the mood, but she knew she just had to wait.

"I'm not..." the words seemed to get lodged in his throat, even those two words came out scratchy and uncomfortable

He squeezed his eyes shut "I'm not a boy"

Steve opened their eyes, with a desperate expression "I'm not a boy"

It was a statement but also a plea. Begging for Robin to know exactly what to say. She didnt.

"you're not a boy." Robin made sure to sound confident, at least she could pretend to know what she was doing. It seemed okay because they gave an awkward nod, head moving slightly too much for it to seem natural

"you're.... a girl?"

the tears seemed to spill the second she said it, and a choked noise lodged itself in their (her?) throat, but after a moment of panicked pause their eyes screwed shut and they nodded but also shrugged. Clearly just as confused by their discomfort as Robin is.

"Okay, thats okay Ste-" shit, stupid "that's okay babe, you're still you, and hey I might be... severely romantically challenged but even I know Eddie is obsessed with you"

there's a brief watery smile before the corners of her lips are pulled down "He likes Steve, he wouldn't like me"

"Horse shit" Robin wasn't as confident as she was trying to sound, but she knew that her best friend was still her best friend and that anyone who didn't adore her was an idiot (as all best friends know)

she moved to sit next to her friend who had ended up on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest, and once again the silence was allowed to stretch out before them, only broken up by heartbroken sniffles and shakey breaths

"so..." Robin wished more than any other moment that she wasn't so awkward "Not Steve?"

"I-" the thought gets broken off " It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like it's me"

"whats you?" two words encapsulating a question that was near impossible to answer, but it still felt right to ask, to show that Robin wanted to know the answer.

the expression on her face showed that her friend also thought the question unanswerable, and a frustrated shrug fell from her

Robin hated that defeated expression, so she tried "Michelle?"

Clearly, the scrunched-up expression implied it wasn't a fit

"Hannah?" no not that

"Sarah?" seemed less disgusted but still no

"Becky?" okay back to disgust, moving on

"OH! Punch me if this sucks, but... Stevie?" Robin felt the need to justify her choice, showing that she wasn't just trying to make her keep her old name "Like Stevie Nicks! I could see that, dye your hair blonde, get some bangs"

the comment about changing her hair was obviously met with a scowl, but after a soft smile found its way onto her face "Stevie feels better"

Robin had never felt so smart, she was a fucking genius "Stevie is it babe"

Stevie spent moments looking at her, seemingly deep in thought before softly speaking "Thank you Robin"

it seemed too formal for them, to say it so directly with her name like that, but she could tell that Stevie was really grateful so Robin held back the tears (one of them had to be the butch one in this relationship)

"no problem babe" it was spoken just as softly as the thanks, and for now it seemed enough

"Now, tell me what happened with Eddie"

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 17- No Ifs, Ands, or Butts

Summary: You and Javi are continuing to make progress on building your new house, until a few distractions are thrown your way that you definitely weren't expecting.

Word Count: 12.3K (how bad is it that I'm like, wow! What an average length for a chapter! Well done, me!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), HELLO, STRAP IN EVERYONE. unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), romantic? ANAL (you guys, I'm sweating), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (f receiving), rimjob (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, insecurity but Javi being our consent KING and literally taking such good care of you (but would we expect anything less?!), Javi with dogs (hehehehe), everyone say thank you to our favorite village idiots Carter and Miller for helping out Javi and Osita (you'll see!!)

A/N: If there are two words to sum up the plot of this chapter, it is butts and dogs (if you watch Bluey, yes, the puppy is named after Muffin LMAO) 💀 I am so sorry this chapter took FOREVER, 1) Life has been crazy busy (parent teacher conferences sucked the life out of me for like a full week), and 2) I would be lying if I said I was not shakin' in my boots to post this bc I have never written legit butt stuff smut (say that 3 times fast) before and I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't wanna read this chapter/skip the smut I will not be offended at all!! Also for my non-American friends, Home Depot is like a giant hardware store (that also sells hot dogs that absolutely slap) Okay, that's all, love y'all more than words, forehead kisses for all of you!! 😙 also please laugh at the name of this chapter I thought it was funny as hell, I'm crackin myself up

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Okay, we have paint samples, countertop samples, carpet samples, sheets of drywall, toilets that are ordered can come get picked up on Tuesday, and we can let Danny know they finally have those screws he’s been looking for back in stock. That’s everything, right? Please say that’s everything.” You sighed, going over your home project to-do list for what felt like the 47th time before exiting out of Home Depot for what also felt like the 147th time this week.

What had started as a plot of land and and a head full of ideas was slowly but surely becoming reality as progress on your new home came to fruition- as winter faded into spring, your house began to grow and change with the seasons, bare bones wooden beams and dirt of a few months ago now becoming walls, floors and roofs of the new place you’d spend forever in. While it was exciting to move into the stages of actually deciding what the inside of your home should look like (not just shape and size), it felt like you and Javi had been making a million and one decisions every day related to something to do with the house, and unfortunately, this Sunday night was no exception.

“No, I think that’s everything.” Javi nodded, scanning over the wrinkled piece of paper in his hands once more.

“We might as well just start changing our permanent address to this Home Depot. I’m pretty sure the employees are convinced we live here at this point.” You laughed, resting one hand on your hip, the other full of the sample swatches you and Javi needed to look at when you got home. “You sure that’s everything? Honestly, even if it’s not, let’s face it, we’ll be here some point later this week anyways. At least now it’s getting to the fun stuff- Paint and floors is a lot more fun than plumbing and electrical.”

“I know. We’re almost there, Osita. Danny said 8 to 10 more weeks last time I talked to him.”

“Over/under on how many more trips we make to Home Depot between now and then. I’m gonna say 56.”

“You’re such a dork. I fucking hope it’s not 56.”

The two of you made your way out to the parking lot with hands full of goods, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the other buildings of the shopping center- a Chinese restaurant, a laundry mat, a building that had been under construction since your frequent trips to Home Depot began, and a pet store.

You and Javi had tried the Chinese restaurant once, a few bites in simultaneously agreeing it was 100% the worst food you had ever had, never needed to go to the laundry mat, and god knows what the mystery building was getting turned into. You had, however, always wanted to go into the pet store, knowing it would be fun to walk around and look at the animals since it was something you loved doing as a kid with your brothers. But by the time the two of you were done with your hardware shopping, your brain was too fried to ever ask Javi if he wanted to go in and check things out as an entertaining thing to do. Tonight probably would have been no exception to the rule, but that was before you noticed the big sign posted in front of the store reading “Dog Adoption Event Today!”

You and Javi had both agreed you had wanted to get a dog- that was something the two of you had easily agreed upon early on in your relationship- but like most things nowadays, you were waiting until the house was finished and you were out of the apartment before looking into getting one. You knew that going to look at dogs before the two of you could really do anything about it was a bad idea, but the longer you stared at that sign, the less and less willpower you began to have to keep yourself from running over there.

“Jav.” You nudged, the two of you almost to Javi’s truck before stopping in your tracks, gesturing over to the pet store. Javi paused next to you, taking a moment to read the bright bold letters of the sign, letting out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Baby, you know we can’t get a dog right now. Believe me, I want one too, but we gotta wait until the house is done first.”

“I know. Can we just go look? Please?” While your puppy dog eyes were no match compared to Javi’s, you pouted your lip just about as far as it could go, batting your lashes at him with a pitiful frown on your face. You had no idea how Javi was ever going to be able to say no to your kids if he was already immediately caving from your silly, overexaggerated begging, let alone his own sweet brown eyes staring back at tiny versions of him. Regardless, right now, Javi’s lack of iron will was working in your favor, letting out another small sigh, contemplating for a moment before nodding his head in agreement.

“Fine. But just looking, okay?” He muttered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

“Yes! Thank you! I promise, just looking… Probably.” You grinned, changing directions and speed walking across the parking lot towards the pet shop. Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he followed behind you.

“I heard that.”

As you walked through the front doors of the pet store, you were greeted with the sounds of high pitched barks and yaps, joining the few people gathered by the pen set up to contain the litter of what looked to be a mix of cattle dogs and something shorter and stumpier, the brown and cream speckled puppies bouncing and playing with the toys, blankets, and other littermates in the cage with them. You audibly let out a gasp as you looked down at the pure adorableness of the sweet little balls of fluff below you, squatting down next to the pen to get a better look at the group of puppies.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute. Javi, they’re so freaking cute. Hi lil babies, aren’t you the most precious things ever?” You cooed, holding the back of your hand up to the cage for the playful puppies to sniff, their tiny bodies toppling over each other to smell you.

As much as Javi wanted to be tough and strong willed to try and prove a point, you were right- these puppies were the cutest things he’d seen in a long time. Crouching down next to you, he glanced over, giving you the I told you this was a bad idea look that you knew you were bound to get from him the moment you saw the puppies.

“They are really fucking cute.” Javi sighed in reluctant agreement, bringing his hand down by yours to try and pet some of the puppies through the cage.

“Oh hi there! I see you two found the puppies!” An employee, an older woman with curly gray hair, smiled down at the two of you, gesturing towards the pen full of tiny, yapping pups. “Are you interested in adopting one?” You and Javi looked up at her, each of you letting out a deep breath before speaking at the same time, your answers lacking unison.

“No.”

“Maybe.” You quietly whispered under Javi’s no, letting out a little shrug, eyes darting away towards Javi to spare yourself from the eye roll you knew he was giving you from your response. “No, we’re not…” You finally agreed, giving another pouty, sad look to Javi. “We really want one, but we’re in an apartment right now and are moving into a house soon. We’re waiting until then to get one. Although these guys are making it very hard to keep it that way.”

“I can understand that.” The woman laughed, a playful grin spread across her face, clearly sensing your willpower about the situation was much weaker than Javi’s. “Well, even if you’re not interested in adopting one right now, you’re more than welcome to pick them up or play with them! It’s good for them to practice being handled anyways.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Immediately, you stood up, bending over the edge of the pen to pick up one of the puppies closest to you, cuddling it against your chest as it squirmed and wiggled in your grasp. You sat bag down on the floor, cross legged as you cradled the puppy, eyes almost as wide and sweet as the dog you were now holding. “What’s this one’s name?” You asked the woman, carefully setting it down between your legs to let it bounce around.

“That one is Muffin. He’s a feisty one, but a sweetheart.” She beamed, slowly bending down to pick up one of the stuffed toys in the cage, handing it over to Javi. Before you knew it, Muffin was scooting out of your lap and bolting over to Javi and the plush rabbit he was holding in his hands, making the both of you giggle at his goofy, floppy gallop. Javi held out the toy in front of him, a smile spreading across his face as Muffin bit down into the rabbit, shaking it in his mouth, tugging back at Javi’s grip on the stuffed animal. Any shred of stubbornness Javi was trying to hold out on was long gone, smiling and snickering just as wide as you as Muffin hopped into Javi’s lap, curling up with his toy in his mouth.

Javi was like a little kid, practically giggling as he grabbed the stuffed rabbit and tossed it along the floor, watching Muffin slip and slide across the linoleum before pouncing on the toy and trotting back to Javi with it in his mouth.

“Good boy! You’re smart, aren’t you?” Javi grinned, tugging at the toy before looking back at you and your look, screaming, So much for just looking, huh? without having to say a word. “He is really cute.” Javi admitted, trying his best to keep his composure from completely crumbling. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, giving each other the look that made you seriously contemplate if you were going home with a puppy today, until you looked back down at Muffin, now hunched over Javi’s foot, pee dribbling down his shoe.

“Oh shit!” You grimaced, reaching up to pick up Muffin mid-stream, scooting him over to finish peeing on the floor instead of on Javi.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” The woman gasped, grabbing some towels next to the cage, handing them off to Javi for him to wipe the pee off his shoe. “That is the thing with puppies, the potty training does take a while.”

You were trying your best not to burst out into laughter as you picked Muffin back up, putting him back in the pen with the rest of his brothers and sisters, giving Javi and apologetic shrug at his current circumstances, knowing it was not helping your in any way shape or form to bring a puppy back to your apartment. “No it’s all good, no worries.” Javi smiled, wiping off his shoe with the towel and giving it a quick shake with a reluctant sigh, grounding him back in reality.

“Can’t be any worse than stepping in a pile of cow poop.” You teased as Javi looked down in disappointment at his shoe, finally beginning to shake his head and laugh along with you. “Alright, you win, Mr. Reasonable. Muffin has made a very good case for no puppies at the apartment.”

“Eventually baby, I promise.” Javi smirked, giving you a little nudge, the two of you waving goodbye to the cuteness corralled in the kennel behind you, finally making your way back to the car after your detour.

Well… So much for that plan.

“What about this one?”

“Baby, I don’t know, at this point, they all just look like the same color.” You sighed, slumping your hand in your face, resting your elbow on the kitchen table where you and Javi sat, paint swatches spread across the wooden surface, among scattered samples of carpet, countertops and backsplash tiles. “I don’t think my brain can make any more house decisions tonight.”

“Me either.” Javi huffed, reaching across the table to organize the paint sample cards into a pile next to the stack of other house things that now seemed to have a permanent home with you during dinner time. “I had no fucking idea there were so many goddamn shades of beige.”

“It definitely doesn’t help that we’re trying to just pick through different shades of brown instead of fun colors.” You laughed, gathering the samples in front of you and stacking them in Javi’s pile as he stood up, pushing in his chair and making his way to the other side of the table where you sat, coming behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you leaned your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his to pull him closer.

“Fun colors? What, you wanna paint the house purple, Hermosa?” Javi smiled, giving you a little shake in your chair making you giggle.

“No, you dork. I was actually thinking more hot pink or neon green.” You retorted, giving Javi a nudge back tiling your head up towards him. “No, I don’t know, I know we want something neutral through the house but like, it’ll be fun to pick cute paint colors when we have kids and stuff.”

Javi squeezed you a little tighter, his heart warming at the thought of when they’d get to do this again when there were actually kids in the picture to fill the empty rooms of their house. No matter how many times you and Javi talked about it, he was sure he’d never get over the fact that you wanted to have a family with him. It was a dream that had come and gone for him all those years ago, resigning himself to a life of simply surviving, even after he had returned home to Laredo. But now, the fact that dream was in reach, and undoubtedly in the near future had him beaming, knowing there was no one else in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life and build a family with beside you, and that for some reason he still couldn’t quite comprehend, you felt the same way.

While you had agreed that you would wait until you were married and your house was completely finished before you started trying and your birth control made its permanent home in the trash, with every day that he got closer to marrying you, finalizing your house and starting the newest chapter of your lives together, Javi couldn’t help but feel a want, no, a need, to start a family with you- to fulfill a purpose he so desperately craved to be a father.

“Well…” Javi grinned, leaning back down to kiss your neck, his pecks becoming much more tender and slow with each press of his lips, “you could let me put a baby in you right now, and we could pick out fun paint colors along with the borning brown ones. Got a lot of rooms we need to fill and paint, Osita.”

“Javier Peña! You are a menace! You have to stop with the baby talk, or I swear, you’re about to make me cave in and crumble. You are testing every ounce of willpower I have.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked up, entranced by Javi’s sweet brown eyes and their powerful effects.

While you and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever ever since you had gotten engaged, there was something about knowing you were about to have your own house with 4 extra rooms, solely built for the purpose of being filled with your kids that drove you, and even worse, Javi, absolutely crazy. In the past few weeks, the house had taken shape enough to finally have rooms that actually looked like rooms, Javi making it a point every time the two of you went over to check on progress, to point out just how good the spare bedrooms looked, like he was the most proud of those 4 extra rooms more than any other space in the house.

The irrational part of you would have given him a baby yesterday, but the rational part of you knew you wanted to be married and have every last inch of that house finished before you brought a baby there. But every time Javi saw those bedrooms, looking at you with that big, goofy grin on his face for his children that didn’t even exist yet, oh god, did it make you want to say fuck it to every ounce of rationality you had left.

“I think you have baby fever worse than I do, Jav. And that’s saying something.” You teased, reaching up to scrunch his cheeks. With another little giggle and content sigh, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, coming around the back of it to get the slightest running start to jump on him, full koala style, wrapping your arms and legs around his broad back, making the two of you burst out in laughter as he spun you around while you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, covering him with little kisses. “I love you so much. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you know that?”

“I love you too, Osita. I hope I am. I want to be.” Javi sighed, a hopeful half smile pursed between his lips, causing you to cup both your hands around his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You will be. I promise.” Tilting your head in, you pressed a soft, tender kiss onto his lips, lingering just a little longer than normal for your added reassurance. “Alright, I gotta get down now though, we have dishes we have to put away, and I have to shower tonight since I have a staff meeting tomorrow morning before school and I don’t wanna have to get up earlier than I need to.”

“Un beso más (One more kiss).” Javi smiled, gripping a little tighter on your thighs wrapped around his legs, refusing to let go until you fulfilled his request.

“Solamente un beso más? Por qué no dos? Tres? (Only one more? Why not 2? 3?)” You giggled, one of your hands running through the thick curls of his hair, while the other traced soft circles along his jawline.

“Me gustaría darte todos los besos, Osita. Te daría cualquier cosa. (I’d give you all the kisses, Osita. I’d give you anything.)” Leaning in, your mouths met again in a soft and sweet moment, a kiss that felt like he meant it- He would give you the world if you asked for it, and then some.

“God, I could kiss you forever. Alright, Romeo, put me down, we got things to do, and if you don’t, I know for a fact none of those things are getting done.”

“Fine.” He sighed overdramatically, letting your legs fall to the floor as he released his grasp. “I’ll clean up dinner and you can go take a shower.”

“I can help with cleaning up, Jav. You made dinner, the least I can do is-”

“Go get your ass in the shower. I’ll clean it up.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the top of your head before gesturing towards the bathroom, making you cross your arms over your chest with an unseriously stern look on your face.

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell? Rude. Sure you’re not the one who needs to shower after your foot got covered in piss?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying your best not to laugh.

“Go shower, you dork.” Javi chuckled, giving your ass a playful slap as you parted ways, sticking your tongue out at him as you disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom.

After a long, and even hotter shower than usual (considering you didn’t have to account for Javi’s temperature complaints), you wrapped yourself up in your towel and headed back to your room, where you found Javi laying in bed, reading one of the books you had been teasing him about for the past few weeks as it sat on his nightstand, unopened, even though he insisted he really was going to read it soon. As if the fact that him finally opening up and reading the book wasn’t enough to taunt him about, the way his face scrunched as he squinted at the pages certainly was.

“You doin’ alright over there, Grandpa? Jav, you just have to give in and get glasses, you know you can’t see anything, stop trying to fight it.” You giggled, your appearance in the bedroom catching Javi’s attention, making him rest his open book over his stomach.

“I don’t need glasses. I can see just fine. I’d look stupid in them, anyways.” He grumbled, refusing to admit that you were right even though he knew just as well as you that his eyesight was definitely not what it once was. He let out another sigh, dogearring the page of his book and setting it on his nightstand, his grumpy demeanor quickly shifting as you gave him that playful smirk you always did when you wanted to rub something in to prove your point. You let out another laugh as Javi rolled his eyes at you, shifting himself on the bed to lay on his side, face resting in his palm with those sweet puppy dog eyes that never left your sight any time he watched you get ready, even if all it meant was putting on one of his oversized shirts and sleep shorts to go to sleep in.

“Yeah, okay.” You replied, your voice oozing with sarcasm. “And you wouldn’t look stupid in glasses, you look hot in anything, and I’m sure you would look extra hot with 20/20 vision.”

“Pendejo…”

“You love me.”

The two of you laughed as you shuffled through the drawers of your dresser, pulling out one of Javi’s t shirts to wear to bed along with a pair of underwear and cotton shorts, piling the clothes next to you as you unwrapped your towel drying yourself off once more before letting it drop to the floor so you could change. You could see Javi’s reflection staring back at you, more specifically, your ass in the mirror, an awestruck and lustful look growing in his eyes as you reached over to pick up your shirt.

“I can literally feel your eyes burning a hole through my ass, Jav.” You sassed, smirking back at him through the mirror as you watched him bite down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love your ass so much, you know that?” Javi rasped, his tongue gently darting between his lips, eyes still locked on your behind.

“Yes, Javi, you are very adamant about letting me know how much you love it.” You snickered, slipping his shirt over your head, followed pair your pair of underwear, opting to completely forgo your shorts to play into his comment. You crawled up into bed next to him, nudging him over so his back laid on the mattress and you laid on top of him, pressing a soft, slow kiss against his lips as his hands roamed down your back, sneaking under the hem of your shirt to knead the soft flesh of your ass, letting out a low groan as your mouths met.

“Because it’s fucking perfect.” He hummed, gripping his fingertips even deeper into your skin after sliding them under the thin, cotton fabric covering it.

“Wow, someone’s in a mood about my butt tonight. Didn’t know your giant t-shirt and my plain ass underwear was really doin’ it for ya.” You joked, a little grin spread across your face as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair before sliding them down his face to cup his jaw. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the look on Javi’s face had quickly turned from one of lust to deep thought, his brow scrunched and nostrils flared, making you tilt your head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately noticing the shift in his demeanor. “You only get that look when you’re really thinking hard about something, or you have to fart and you’re trying to hold it in, and I’m really hoping it’s not the second one.”

Your comment was enough to snap him out of his own thoughts, making him shake his head as the two of you laughed, Javi still holding back slightly as his eyes shifted down towards the mattress, practically hearing the gears in his brain turning, when all of a sudden, it clicked with you.

Oh shit.

The combination of his stare down and silence told you everything you needed to know.

You tilted his chin back up towards your face, a curious smirk stretched between your lips as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna fuck my ass, don’t you?”

Your voice was sweet and sultry, immediately making Javi’s face go blank in shock that you had connected the dots before he had even said anything. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest almost as loudly as Javi’s, a nervous swarm of butterflies filling your stomach as you waited for him to respond.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. There had been plenty of times that Javi had put a thumb or fingers in your ass when he fucked you from behind, and holy shit, did it feel good whenever he did it. You’d honestly debated bringing it up before, but there was a part of you that could never bring yourself to do it because you never had, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about it.

It wasn’t that you didn't trust Javi- You’d trust him with your whole life without a second thought. There had never been a time since the moment you first had sex that your comfort wasn’t always his first priority. But with how full Javi felt inside you with just a thumb or a finger, couldn’t help but make you feel a little worried with how big he’d feel with his whole dick inside your ass.

You also couldn’t help but feel a preemptive guilt if it ended up being too much and you had to ask him to stop, not that he would ever make you feel bad about it, but still, you couldn’t help but play out worse case scenarios in your head. But something about that look in his face as he stared you down in the mirror and head turning deep in thought was enough to spark that little flame of confidence you had brewing and beat him to the punch.

“Hermosa…” He paused, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing as he gulped, taking an anxious deep breath. “Baby, I-”

“Do you?”

The tightened grip of his fingers in your ass, gentle nod of his head and the low groan releasing from his chest was all you needed to know to figure out the answer to your question without even needing Javi to say a single word. His free hand mirrored yours, cupping your cheek as the two of you locked hungry gazes with each other, Javi now finally working up enough confidence to respond.

“I want to so fucking bad.” Javi rasped, his dark brown eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need for reassurance. “But if you don’t want to, I don’t ever want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I promise, I won’t be upset about it at all.” The confident facade you had been fronting quickly began to crumble, your body flooding with a combination of nerves and excitement.

“I do, I just- I- I’ve never done it before.” You weren’t sure how your voice had gotten so small and meek- maybe it was the reality of what you were about to do setting in at a rapid pace. Something about the sweet, soft innocence of your voice already had Javi hard as a rock, using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure, considering how even just the thought of even getting to put his dick in your ass already had him on edge.

“That’s okay. Like I said, it’s only if you want to, baby. We can take it slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop, no questions asked.”

You could feel your head beginning to gently nod in agreement as Javi’s thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, a little smirk forming between your cheeks while your heart raced at a million miles per hour, almost feeling as worked up and nervous as the very first time the two of you had sex all that time ago.

“I want to.” You whispered, letting your lips meet his in a tender and ferocious passion, muted moans escaping from each of your parted mouths.

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to say yes just because I want to.” And fuck, could you feel how badly he wanted to, his fully hard dick straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, heavy against your thigh. You were no better despite your nerves, the cotton fabric of your underwear absolutely drenched already without Javi even touching you.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

A low groan rumbled deep in Javi’s chest as your mouths met again, Javi flipping you over so your back was flat against the mattress, letting his hands roam along your body while his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweet girl. Gonna take my time with you, okay? I promise I’ll make sure you’re ready.”

“Well I appreciate you just not going straight to shoving your dick into my ass, very gentlemanly of you.” You joked, trying to calm your nerves with your sarcastic wit, Javi practically snorting at your comment.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi whispered to himself through his laughter, resting his head on your chest as he looked up at you in amusement.

“Sorry, I’ll stop and let you get back to business.” Javi lay frozen, still staring up at you with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised.

“Osita, you know I love you very much, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that since we’ve been together, I’ve learned a lot of things about you?

“Also yes.”

“So you know I can tell when you’re nervous about something, right?”

You let out a defeated sigh, crossing your arms in stubborn defiance, not wanting to admit that you knew Javi’s suspicions were correct. You waited a moment, and with a little frown pursed between your lips, you finally gave in.

“...Yeah.”

Javi rolled over next to you, draping one arm over your waist, the other holding his chin in his hand with his elbow propped up against the mattress, his tender gaze locking with yours, filling you with a sense of calm and reassurance you were convinced nothing else in the world could. “Osita, talk to me baby. What are you nervous about?”

You flapped your arms up before planting them over your face, burying your head in your hands in embarrassment, your words muffled from underneath your palms. “What am I nervous about? Not to stroke your ego any more than it needs to be, but you have a huge dick, Jav. I’m also guessing this isn’t your first time, and it is for me, and you being the first giant dick to ever enter my ass has me a little nervous.” You rambled, your thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than your brain could process them. “I really want to, I just don’t want it to not be good for you or for you to be upset if we stop or- I don’t know. I don’t want you to be mad about it if I’m the reason for- I- I’m probably overthinking it, I’m sorry.” You let out another deep exhale, averting your gaze from Javi’s staring down at the bed.

This time, it was Javi’s turn to connect the dots, taking a moment to wonder why you were so worried about making him upset before putting the pieces together, his prediction making him clench his jaw in frustration. “Paul wanted to do it and you said no and he was a fucking asshole to you about it, wasn’t he?”

Your head instantly shot up, swiveling around towards Javi’s agitated grimace, your face almost as shocked as Javi’s was when you had asked him if he had wanted to do this in the first place. “How… Javi, how did you-”

“That motherfucker… he didn’t hurt you did he? I swear to God if he did, I’ll fucking fly up to Chicago right now and I’ll-”

“Jav, Jav, cool your jets, killer.” You laughed softly, pressing your hand to his cheek to try and ground him before he really was on the next flight to Illinois. “No, he never did anything. He said that he wanted to and it kinda came out of the blue- I didn’t really want to at the time, especially not with him. He kept asking and asking and I would tell him no and he got so mad about it. Turns out that was around the time he started cheating on me anyways, and became an even bigger dickhead than he already was. But I always felt so guilty, and that it was my fault he was upset because I didn’t want to. I don’t know- I- I guess maybe this has stuck with me way more than it probably should have.” You could feel your voice shrinking, your eyes darting away once again, mortified by the fact that you completely ruined the moment by bringing up your shitty ex and his blatant lack of respect. “Sorry, I don’t know why we’re talking about this I-“

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Javi’s lips were on yours, swallowing the rest of your words as your mouths met with a passionate intensity, letting his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer, caging his chest against yours. “Hermosa, you know I would never be mad at you about something like that, right? I love you, Osita, you have nothing to apologize for. All I ever want is to make you feel good, baby. Fuck, that gets me off more than anything else. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I trust you, Javi.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, lips grazing over his, giving him a gentle nod of reassurance. “I want you to.”

You could audibly hear the gulp Javi had let out, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he let out a low groan, tightening the grip he had around your waist. “Want me to what, sweet girl? I wanna hear you say it, baby.” His lips began to travel down your jawline towards your neck, hot and wet presses languidly making their way to your collarbone as he tugged at the end of your shirt, snaking his hands up the soft skin of your stomach. You could feel the heat building in your core, letting out a soft moan as his hands palmed at your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between the tips of his fingers.

“I want you to fuck my ass, Javi.”

With that, his hands were shuffling your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed before letting his kisses make their way down your newly exposed skin, letting his tongue flick along each nipple before letting his gaze lock with yours, a small smirk spreading across his face. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Hermosa. Gonna take good care of you, baby, I swear.”

“I know.” You nodded, staring back at the hunger pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, practically squirming in the sheets of your bed from the throbbing between your legs, feeling the slick almost dripping down your thighs from just how turned on you were. The grin on Javi’s face had become devilish, biting down on his bottom lip as he snaked his hand down your front, tugging at the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs before running a finger through your slit, already drenching him with your arousal.

“Turn around, baby. Hands and knees, okay?” You could hear the subtle smugness in his tone, giving you a playful squeeze as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over face down on the mattress, making you squeal. You did Javi one better, laying your chest flat against the sheets, lifting your ass up in the air and giving it a little shake, Javi’s hands instantly kneading at the soft flesh in front of him, digging his fingertips deeper into your skin, feeling his hot breath hovering over your cunt.

Suddenly, you felt a long, wide strip of his tongue through your folds, pressing hard and intensely along your clit before diving in like a man starved, lapping you up as he began to eat you out from behind. Each stroke of his tongue was more persistent than the last, the grip of his hands on your hips pulling your heat closer to his face as he licked and sucked at your throbbing bundle of nerves, the mix of your slick and his saliva coating your inner thighs. His feverish pace already had you fisting at the bedsheets, whimpering and moaning as his mouth worked along your dripping core, making you gasp even further when you felt his tongue begin to travel up towards your tight ring of muscle.

“Oh holy fuck- Javi, oh my god, baby. Fuck me, oh shit.” You whimpered as Javi’s tongue swirled along your puckered hole, dancing around the edges before dipping inside, the sensation making you shudder in pleasure, feeling Javi’s low hum of approval deep in the back of his throat. If that wasn’t enough, one of the hands that had a tight grip on your ass was now collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, his fingers tracing through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit, the added stimulation immediately making the tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. As he worked at your hole, the pads of his fingers circling your sensitive bundle of nerves you could feel your breath becoming ragged, letting out a few more shaky exhales before your orgasm crashed through you, crying out into the soft fabric of the sheets, pleasure and euphoria flooding your body.

As you came down from your high, Javi let his hands slide gently up and down your sides, pressing soft kisses along your back until he had made his way up your shoulder blades and neck, whispering tenderly into your ear. “Such a good girl for me, Osita. Came so hard letting me eat out that pretty little ass of yours. You want me to keep going?”

“Fuck yes, oh my god Javi, please.” You whimpered, shaking your head frantically as you looked back at Javi, already sitting back on his knees to lift his shirt over his head before sitting up to kick off his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free, precum glistening and weeping from his tip, considering how painfully hard he had been since even the thought of getting to fuck your ass.

You could feel his body hovering over yours, hands sliding up and down your sides before grabbing at your ass again, placing tender kisses on each cheek before leaning over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, pulling out the bottle of lube and setting it next to him. His hands roamed to your core once again, two fingers dipping into your cunt, curling to hit the soft, spongy spot inside you that already had you moaning again.

It wasn’t long until his fingers were substituted for his cock, running his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal along his length before slowly pushing inside your pussy, already so wet and worked up, that even with sweet sting of his stretch, he still slid in with ease, setting a steady, even pace as one hand dug into your hip, the other reaching over to grab the bottle of lube, popping open the cap with a click and letting the cool liquid drip over your tight hole, making you gasp. You could feel the pads of his fingers pressing at the entrance to your ass, gently teasing you open with one finger, breeching up to his knuckle, the combination of both his finger and cock inside you making you whimper in pleasure.

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck, you’re already so fucking tight around my finger. You want another one in there, baby?” Javi mewled, prodding his finger deeper into your hole as he continued to thrust into you, his strokes slow and steady, but still punching deep into your g-spot with each thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs.

“Yes- oh fuck- yes, oh my god.” You weren’t really quite sure how your brain was still even managing to form words at this point, the warm feeling that had been growing inside you spreading to every inch of your body. The pad of Javi’s second finger teased at your tight hole, collecting ample amounts of you slick and lube before pushing in to join the first, the thickness of both of his fingers making you clench even tighter around his cock and digits as you cried out in delight.

“Shhhhhh, I know, sweet girl. Relájate (relax) baby, I’ve got you.”

You could already feel your second orgasm starting to build again, heat beginning to bloom in your belly from the rhythmic pounding of Javi’s dick punching against your g-spot and his fingers prodding at the nerve endings of your ring of muscle, already feeling so full from the stretch of both holes.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh fuck- Javi, I’m gonna cum again, fuckahhhhhhh-” You cried out, letting your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, clenching down around Javi’s cock and fingers as you grabbed at handfuls of your bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of your pleasure ripped through you.

“There you go, Hermosa. That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Did so good for me.” He cooed, gently pulling out both his cock and fingers, the emptiness making you shutter as Javi pressed tender, soft kisses down your back before making his way up your neck and nipping at your ear. “You think you’re ready for me, Osita? If not, it’s okay, I only wanna do what you want, mi amor (my love).”

You took another few ragged breaths to compose yourself, unsure how your brain was even managing to function at this point as you came down from your high, trembling in delight. You nodded before you could speak, Javi letting out a low groan as he sucked at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy against your skin.

“Need to hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

“Fuck my ass, Javi. I want you to fuck my ass, please baby.” You whined, whimpering your words against the soft fabric of your sheets, desperate for more, needing to feel all of him inside you in a way you hadn’t before.

Javi let out an audible groan as he pulled back, letting his hands roam up your body and back to the lube resting on the bed, once again, popping open the cap and squirting some of the liquid into his palm as he fisted his dick, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your tight hole. “You promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop?”

You shook your head rapidly, fingers already gripping into the pillow in front of you as you braced yourself for Javi to enter, feeling his tip press against your tight ring of muscle. Suddenly, you could feel the sensation of Javi breeching your entrance, making you gasp at just how full you already felt as he had barely made his way inside you. Javi pushed further in, leaving you practically breathless from the stinging stretch of his cock filling you as he paused halfway, leaning over to check on you.

“Oh fuck me- You okay, sweet girl?”

“Mhhmmmmmm. Fuck Javi, you feel so big. Holy shit, baby. Oh fuck.” You gulped, squeezing around Javi’s length as he inched deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit and cunt throbbing as he filled you, the newfound sensation making you see stars. You were so focused on how you were feeling, you had barely noticed how tightly Javis fingertips were gripping into the soft flesh of your ass, like he was bracing himself for dear life as he sunk further and further into your tight hole.

While Javi had found himself in this position with other women a handful of times before, he had never come close to feeling the same way about anyone the way he did about you- He had been dreaming about the day that you agreed to let him fuck your ass, and now finding himself inside you, knowing he would be the first and the last to ever have you like he was right now, had him on the brink of busting any second if he wasn’t careful. Javi had never been more thankful that you couldn’t see his face, because he knew he looked absolutely wrecked and was struggling to keep the ounce of composure he had left as you gripped around his cock like a vice.

“Javi, oh shit- Javi, you can move baby.” You moaned, adjusting to his fullness, the initial pain quickly transforming to burning hot pleasure as you gave Javi the green light to keep going. After a few seconds, when Javi had said nothing and hadn’t moved at all, you spoke again, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you. “Javi, I’m good, you can-”

“I know, I know, fuck- sorry, baby. Jesus Christ- you’re so fucking tight, Hermosa, fuck me. Give me a second or I’m gonna fuckin’ bust right now.” Javi replied, halfway between a whimper and a moan as he firmly grasped your hips, carefully setting a slow pace as he began to thrust in and out of your ring of muscle, shocked to feel how quickly heat was beginning to bloom in your belly once again, his length languidly sliding in and out of your asshole, filling you and striking new nerve endings you had never felt before making you quickly begin to come undone.

Your legs began to tremble, grasping at the mattress to brace yourself as you felt your clit throb and cunt clench as the coil in your belly tightened further and further, the lewd noises of your moans and grunts filling the room.

“Javi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, baby I’m so close again, holy fuck.” You cried out, as even just the slightest pick up of Javi’s pace had you reeling closer and closer to the edge of your release. Javi freed one of his hands, snaking it between your legs to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, already swollen and pulsing from your first two orgasms, and now even more responsive as the pads of his fingers circled against it.

Javi wanted desperately to hold out for you and make you cum as many times as you wanted to just like this, but he knew damn well the moment you came and clamped down even harder around his cock than you already were, he was a fucking goner and going right along with you. He needed to give you one more before he also came embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck Osita, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer either, baby. Need you- oh shit- need you to give me one more, pretty girl. Cum for me, Hermosa, I’ve got you.”

With only a few more strokes and circles around your clit, you were cumming so hard, you were honestly convinced you had blacked out. Your whole body shook as you wailed in delight, squeezing around Javi’s dick so hard it was only seconds before he was following suit, letting a ragged groan escape through his gritted teeth as you milked him of every last drop, Javi bracing himself for dear life with the grasp he had around your hips as he finished.

Javi slumped over you, the two of you breathing so heavily it sounded more like you had just finished a triathlon more than anything else. He let out a deep hiss as he pulled out, taking a moment to admire his work as he watched his spend drip out your tight hole as your body collapsed onto the mattress.

You weren’t sure how long you had been laying there before you were finally able to wrangle the brain power to speak again, and even then, the only words that you were able to manage were a quiet “holy fucking shit…”

Javi flopped down, laying on his back next to you as you rolled over, both of your faces bright and blissed as you stared at one another, almost unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?” Javi asked, gently cupping your flushed cheek in his palm.

“Am I okay? Javi… Holy fuck. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my entire life. I honestly thought I blacked out there for a second. Baby… That was, fuck, that was insane.” You half laughed to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking great. Holy shit. Sorry I couldn’t last longer, I didn’t think I was gonna go that fast but you felt so fucking good. Thank you, Osita.”

“Thank you? For what?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful poke on the chest as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“For this. For trusting me.”

“Javier Jesús Peña…” You smirked, propping yourself up on your arm to get a better look at him, “I trust you with my life. More than anyone I’ve ever met. I should be the one thanking you for so graciously taking my butt virginity. Wouldn’t want anyone else in there besides you.”

The two of you burst into laughter, Javi practically letting out a snort as he rolled his eyes at your ridiculous comment. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi. C’mon, let's go shower before your cum sits in my asshole any longer and I get pregnant with your butt baby.” You snickered as you rolled off the bed, making your way to the bathroom.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Butt baby? Seriously?” He snorted, following behind you, giving you a playful smack on your ass, scooping you up to hike you over his shoulder and fireman carry you to the shower, making you squeal. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Weirdo you love enough to put your dick in my ass and make your wife, so that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled as Javi set you down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, giving him a little shrug before reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

“And what a fucking lucky man I am.”

Ever since starting his job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department, Javi had been able to count on a few things every morning when he got into work. Sheryl at the front desk would greet him with a half hearted “Good morning, Javier” , the smell of shitty work coffee would be brewing in the break room, and Agent Carter and Miller already arguing about something stupid at their desks instead of working on anything that actually needed to get done. That’s why when Javi made his way into work on Monday morning and was not greeted by any of those things, he knew his day was getting thrown for a loop- he just wasn’t quite sure how yet.

“It was their idea, not mine, believe me.” Sheryl grumbled, rolling her eyes as she nodded towards the path to Javi’s office, holding her hands up in defense as if to prove she had nothing to do with whatever was going on beyond her desk. Javi paused, tilting his head and scrunching his brow in confusion at Sheryl before letting out a sigh, and hesitantly making his way back to find out what in the world she was talking about.

He was surprised by the lack of Miller and Carter’s presence in their desk chairs, and the unusual silence filling the office as Javi turned his head, wondering where everyone was. He peered over the cubicles, looking for any sign of life, until a strange sound caught his attention from behind the door of his office.

Woof, woof, woof!

Javi shook his head, convinced he must be hearing things until the low bark repeated, followed by a hush of anxious voices whispering around the corner.

“Oh no, shhhhhh! Shit, I didn’t think he was gonna bark.”

“Well it’s a fucking dog, Carter, what the hell did you think it was gonna, do, meow?”

“Maybe he didn’t hear it.”

“I highly doubt that, dumbass. God, he’s gonna be fucking pissed.”

“Your idea, not mine.”

Even though he couldn’t see them, Miller and Carter’s worried whispers were enough to let Javi know he wasn’t imagining the barking coming from behind his office door. Letting out a deep sigh, which sounded a lot more like a groan, Javi carefully twisted open the doorknob to his workspace, only to be greeted by a large, shaggy and very dirty Golden Retriever staring back at him with big brown eyes, happily wagging its tail and shaking excitedly at Javi’s presence. Although Javi had heard the bark from behind his door, it didn’t stop him from doing a double take from the dog now residing in his office, running his hand over his face in a confused frustration as to how and why Miller and Carter had already managed to make his Monday morning a pain in his ass.

“Why the fuck is there a dog in my office?” Javi half shouted, making Carter and Miller sheepishly appear from around the corner with guilty looks on their faces, avoiding eye contact with Javi as he glared through the two of them, wondering how the hell they were going to try and talk themselves out of this one.

“Hey Peña, uh, I uh… Listen Miller was the one who brought him in, and he was so cute that I wasn’t not gonna do anything about it and-”

“Oh, way to throw me under the fucking bus, Carter!” Agent Miller huffed, cutting Carter off in attempts to let the blame completely fall on him. “You agreed we should keep him here so that we could-”

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck there’s a dog in my office.” Javi groaned, cutting off Carter and Miller before they found themselves in a pointless arguing match about how and why there was now a dog happily leaning itself against Javi’s leg, his tail shaking back and forth, completely enamored by Javi.

It was taking everything in Javi not to reach down and pet him to try and prove a point to Carter and Miller that they had astronomically fucked up the rest of his plans for the morning, but the dog was sure as hell adorable and sweet as could be.

“Okay, well, I was driving into work this morning, and as I was making my way down that back road past the cattle ranch a few blocks down from here, this guy ran out in the road. Thank God I saw him when I did. I stopped, got out, and he came right up to me, but there was obviously no one with him. He looked relieved that he’d found me. Poor guy is dirty and skinny as hell. He hopped right into my car and ate the rest of my McGriddle which I was kinda pissed about, but I can’t blame ‘em.” Miller sighed, now crouching down to give the dog some scratches on the head before continuing on with his story. “So I went to some of the houses on the street and no one had ever seen this dog before. I called Webb County Animal Control to see if anyone had reported a missing dog that looked like him, but no one had. I asked if I should take him to the shelter to see if anyone would come for him, but the lady on the phone said if no one’s reported him missing, they probably wouldn’t come for them.”

“Well tell him what else, Miller.” Carter encouraged, trying to aid in Miller’s defense as he rose back up, standing next to his partner.

“When I called the animal shelter to ask them what to do, the woman I talked to said the shelter is so full, that if we brought him in and no one claimed him within the next two weeks, that they’d…” Miller trailed off, him and Carter both grimacing, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he looked down at the gleeful, furry face staring back up at him. “Well, let’s just say that things weren’t gonna look so good for him. I couldn’t bring myself to drop him off, and I wasn’t just gonna fucking leave him, so, I uh- I brought him here.”

Javi let out a deep sigh, burying his hands in his face for a moment before rubbing his temples, understanding why Miller had done what he did, but nonetheless, still frustrated that now he had become wrapped up in solving a missing dog case.

“So what? Are you gonna keep him?” Javi questioned, finally giving in to bend down and give the dog a few pats on his side, feeling just how skinny and boney he was as his hand met his belly.

“Oh no, I can’t keep him. Apartment doesn’t allow dogs. I would if I could.” Miller admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling guilty for his lack of helpful response.

“What about you? You keeping the dog?” Javi asked, looking over at Carter, giving him a little shrug, hoping he was the solution to his temporary canine problem.

“Um, no. Sorry. I’m allergic. He’s cute as hell but my eyes have been itching ever since he got here.”

“So what, he’s just gonna live here? C’mon you guys, really?” Javi grumbled, now crouching down next to the dog, getting a better look at his begging eyes and goofy grin under his panting tongue, giving Javi a few licks on the face in excitement as his tail began to wag rapidly from Javi’s closeness.

Javi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as the dog lapped against his face, wrapping his hands around the dog’s head and giving it a playful rub to get the dog to stop before staring back at the sweet, sad eyes staring back at him. He scratched under the dog’s chin before it was snuggling up next to him, comfortably plopping himself down over Javi’s feet and letting out a content little grumble as his tail continued to thump against the floor in joy.

Javi closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. A deep sigh. Not because he didn’t like this dog. Hell, not even because he was really that mad at the two office idiots for bringing the dog here this morning. Javi let out a long, exasperated sigh, because he could feel the willpower he had preached to you about holding out on a dog until the new house- a conversation he had just had with you last night- was absolutely crumbling.

He couldn’t come home with a dog, right? He had just spent all of last night convincing you that the apartment wouldn’t be a good place for a dog. But… that was for a puppy. This was a full grown dog. A calm one, at that. A fucking cute one at that. God, it had been 5 minutes and this dog was already attached at the hip to him, and it was probably fair to say that Javi had gotten just as attached, if not more. Carter and Miller were right, with the shape the dog was in, it really did look like no one had been taking care of him, or had any plans to come and find him, and Javi couldn’t bear the thought of sending the dog off to the shelter, knowing his inevitable fate.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, do you know anything else about him? Are you sure that there’s no one looking for him?” Javi grunted as he pushed himself back up to stand, trying to keep his cool as he looked over at Carter and Miller, their eyes still peeled to the ground in hopes the lack of direct eye contact would lessen their chances of a complete reaming from Javi.

“No, boss. Only other thing we could find about him was the little tag on his collar, which wasn’t helpful at all, because it only had his name.” Carter shrugged, peeking up at Javi, surprised by the even keel of his tone. Javi bent back down, the dog immediately rolling over on his back and exposing his belly for Javi to pet as he reached towards the dog’s neck, gently tugging at the tethered collar under his tangled fur to read the poorly engraved tag attached, letting out an even bigger sigh and shaking his head in disbelief at the name.

Bear.

Of fucking course. As if the universe needed to send him another sign. Of fucking course the dog’s name was the same as his nickname for you, Osita- little bear.

Javi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, running his hand over his face once again. “Shit. You sure no one’s looking for him?”

Both Carter and Miller shook their heads, crossing their arms over their chests in sad disappointment at Bear, laying sprawled across Javi’s feet. Letting out one last reluctant exhale, Javi looked back at the pair, nervously awaiting his response before he spoke.

“If… If no one calls looking for him by the end of the day… I’ll take him home with me.”

Carter and Miller’s faces lit up in shock and delight, staring at Javi, dumbfounded by what they had just heard. “I mean… Fuck, well… that was way easier than I thought it was gonna be.” Miller half grumbled to himself, glancing over at Carter, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I obviously don’t have any dog shit at home so I’m gonna have to leave early today to get some, so you two idiots are gonna have to finish up the rest of the paperwork I needed to do this afternoon, we clear?”

“Yeah, yup- Absolutely. Will do.” The two nodded in agreement, still in shock that the worst they had gotten from their boss from dropping a stray dog off in his office was the rest of his paperwork for the day.

“Fuck me. Alright, c’mon Bear.” Javi sighed, pushing open his office door, Bear, happily trotting along behind him, tail wagging in delight as Carter and Miller stared back at each other, frozen in shock that they, with very little convincing, had gotten their boss to happily take their furry problem into his own hands.

If the fact that Bear wasn’t cute as can be was enough to win over Javi, he was also the sweetest, most relaxed dog he’d had ever met. Bear was perfectly content to lay down next to Javi’s desk, letting out content grumbles and sighs as he slept and Javi worked, sprawled out across the floor. Bear also seemed to love everyone he met, joyfully making his rounds around the station with Javi after a failed attempt at leaving him behind in his office, immediately caving to Bear’s sad, lonely whines and big brown eyes from behind the glass of his office window. Around 2:00 PM, after Javi had given Bear the better half of his turkey sandwich for lunch, he found himself just as hungry as that poor dog probably was this morning, deciding to cut his day short to get himself some food, and gather whatever else he needed before bringing Bear back to the apartment.

Javi thanked whatever higher power that the woman working at the pet store this afternoon was not the same woman he had adamantly convinced last night that he was not coming with a dog, because in the back seat of his truck, sat a dog he was now bringing home. The woman working at the store had helped Javi to find everything he needed for Bear and probably then some, Javi more than thankful for her patience and advice, feeling overwhelmed by what to get for a dog that had landed in his care only a few short hours ago.

After 2 trips up your apartment stairs to drop off the bed, food, treats and toys Javi had gotten, he made one final trip back for Bear, who had glady hopped out of the truck and followed Javi back to your place after a quick pee on the bush in the parking lot, leaving Javi very thankful the dog had found a spot to relieve himself that wasn’t on his shoe.

“Well, welcome home, I guess.” Javi chuckled as Bear busted through the apartment door, tail wagging at a propeller like speed as he meandered through the space, sniffing and exploring around the kitchen and living room, before wandering back to the bags from the pet store Javi had set on the ground, giving them a little prod with his snout before sitting next to them, looking up at Javi as if to ask if he could have the food and treats that were inside. “Well… I guess a little more food couldn’t hurt, right?”

There were very few times where Javi was home from work before you, and when he did, he normally told you before he left, or called you at work to let you know- so when you pulled into the parking lot to see Javi’s truck next to your empty parking space, it was safe to say you were a bit perplexed. You quickly unpacked your bags from your car, making your way up to the apartment, trying to rationalize with your confusion and nerves as to why Javi had beaten you home. As you unlocked your door, you gently pushed it open, now even more confused by the muffled grunts and swearing coming from down the hallway. Dropping your things at the entryway, you quickly began working your way through the apartment to figure out what was going on before you almost tripped and fell over a large dog bed now in the middle of your living room.

“What the hell…” You murmured to yourself, your brow scrunching in bewilderment as you caught your step over the soft, plushy surface, doing a double take to realize that what had almost taken you to the ground was a dog bed. Looking over, you then noticed the several bags from the local pet store, now even more puzzled as your attention shifted back to the end of the hallway, hearing Javi’s voice as well as the sound of running water and frantic splashing.

“Goddamnit, will you just stay still please? We’re almost done, bud.”

Almost sprinting to the bathroom, you pushed open the door to find a pile of towels spread across the floor, Javi kneeling over the side of the tub, shirt absolutely soaked as he held the shower handle towards a goofy, wet, golden retriever dancing around in the other end of the tub as he saw you.

“Uhhhhhh, Javi… Why is there a dog in our bathtub?” You stood stunned in the doorway, your presence startling Javi as he spun around, dropping the shower handle, making it spray over the walls, leading the dog to playfully bark and shake as it hopped over the ledge of the tub to greet you.

“No, Bear! Come back here! Fuck. I uh- I can explain, I-” Javi stammered, scrambling to grab the flailing shower head before reaching for the dog to try and wrangle him back into the shower, the rest of his thought cut off by Bear taking one more step towards you before bracing himself for a giant shake, absolutely drenching you as you burst into laughter, wiping your now soaking face with the palms of your hands before reaching down to pet the cheerful dog, wagging his wet tail as he leaned up against your leg.

You couldn’t help but let the smuggest grin spread across your face, now putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Bear, huh? You come up with that one?” You giggled, crouching down to greet who you now were presuming to be the newest resident of your household, rubbing his hands over his drenched, furry body, squealing as he licked all over your face. “I thought we couldn’t have a dog in the apartment, Jav, and I hate to break it to you, this is definitely a dog… very much in our apartment.”

Javi let out a snort, rolling his eyes at you as he reached over to shut off the water, resting his back against the edge of the tub, propping his arms up over the sides as he braced himself to try and explain his current situation to you. “Well…” he grinned sheepishly as Bear paced back and forth between the two of you, his tail swaying side to side as he dripped puddles across the bathroom floor, “I got into work this morning and the first thing I saw was a fucking dog that Carter and Miller had dropped in my office after Miller found him on his drive in.”

“Which I am assuming is this dog?” You laughed, gesturing towards the giddy Golden Retriever jaunting around the bathroom.

“Yeah, this one. Miller said that he found him on a dirt road. Called animal control and no one had been looking for a dog that looked like him, and that when he called the shelter, they were so full, that if someone didn’t either come to get him or adopt him in the next couple weeks, that, well… they probably would have to… Fuck, Cater is allergic and Miller can’t have dogs at his place, and I- he’s so sweet, and I couldn’t just let him go so-”

“So you bought out the better part of the pet store so he could live here with us?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow at Javi as Bear happily sat himself down in his lap, making Javi grunt at the weight of the dog plopping himself down across his legs.

“I mean… I uh… I-” Javi mumbled, sheepishly looking down at Bear before looking back at you, doing your best to contain your laughter and giggles. “What, Hermosa?” Javi phrased it as a question, even though he already knew the answer- You were never going to let him live this down for the rest of his life.

“And you thought you needed to be worried about me bringing a dog home without asking. Does this mean we have a new member of the Peña family?” You smirked, making your way over to Javi and Bear, squatting down on the soaking bathroom floor next to them, pressing a playful peck onto Javi’s cheek as you gave Bear a big scratch.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“You’re lucky he’s cute, and you’re lucky you’re cute, too. Yes, of course it’s okay with me. Welcome to the family, Bear Peña.”

The two of you smiled at each other as you sat on the bathroom floor, a damp and soggy Bear spread across your laps with the happiest and goofiest grin spread over his face, too. While coming home to find Javi wrestling a stray dog in your tub wasn’t exactly how you pictured welcoming the newest member of your family into your lives, in some strange way, it couldn’t have felt more perfect. Getting to grow and share your life together with Javi was all you could ever really ask for, even if that meant a Monday night, soaking wet from a dog bath gone wrong.

“Okay, well, we should probably dry this goofball off and get his stuff all situated. Poor guy is probably exhausted after all of his adventures today, aren’t ya bud? Do you think we should put the dog bed in our room? I don’t want him to get scared during the night, but I’m not really sure if we should have him up on our bed, ya know?”

As you pushed yourself up to stand, you waited for Javi’s response, only to be greeted by double the amount of big, brown puppy dog eyes now staring back at you as you turned around. Javi still said nothing, a guilty look growing across his and the dog’s, as you let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the world you were going to build up your immunity to another sweet face that made you crumble.

“You already let him on the bed, didn’t you, Jav?”

“.... Maybe.”

“Like I said, the two of you are very lucky you’re cute.”

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