#have you tried playing fallout?

[dykedvonte]

You wanna talk about House and Benny? Let’s talk about House and Benny. Let’s talk about how House says he saw Benny as a son figure ans a rightful successor to the strip. Let’s talk about how Benny was so charmed by House’s offer that he literally killed a man to get the position to agree to it. Let’s talk about how House was intentionally priming Benny and regrets not doing better, not for the wasted time but of Benny’s wasted potential, how it was misplaced. Let’s talk about how Benny didn’t question House’s leadership until the guy started going radio silent. Let’s talk about House and Benny:

[drakullys-yaoi-hell]

just me playing caravan with no-bark noonan.

[actual-corpse]

Mad that the only way you can appreciate Fallout 4 is when you have the option to Fast Travel removed.

And I mean like, physically disabled. The game will not allow you to fast travel (except for using the Vertibird grenades).

I was so sad by the distress call from Fallon's (even though I allowed it to loop for 30 minutes as I tried to get a Perfectly Preserved Pie). Listening to the crying of the woman trapped in the Jewelry Department safe.

Her final words were about how thirsty she was.

I left her skeleton a can of purified water and closed the door.

[cptnbeefheart]

i think i gotta pl;ay fallout 4 ..

[vagabondfromkanto]

//I've noticed that most people have a rule about godmodding and/or powermodding in their rules. Decided I also need one, with a twist.

The twist being "My muse's canon main superpower as per the finale is the power of endless 'NO U' and I will not hesitate to use it if you start bullshitting" ✨

[kirkwallguy]

whispers into your ear... watch the 3 hr long mshenko video on youtube instead 🧡

i actually didn't realise the gay romance you can do in the third (i think?) game was a guy you meet at the beginning of the first one . that DOES intrigue me a little. but i might just have to watch the video because i've just finished playing the opening and didn't have a good time at all

[maximumzombiecreator]

It's often remarked how D&D 5e's play culture has this sort of disinterest bordering on contempt for actually knowing the rules, often even extending to the DM themselves. I've seen a lot of different ideas for why this is, but one reason I rarely see discussed is that actually, a lot of 5e's rules are not meant to be used.

Encumbrance is a great example of this. 5e contains granular weights for all the items that you might have in your inventory, and rules for how much you can carry based on your strength score, and they've set these carry capacities high enough that you should never actually need to think about them. And that's deliberate, the designers have explicitly said that they've set carrying capacity high enough that it shouldn't come up in normal play. So for a starting DM, you see all these weights, you see all the rules for how much people can carry or drag, and you've played Fallout, you know how this works. And then if you try to actually enforce that, you find that it's insanely tedious, and it basically never actually matters, so you drop it.

Foraging is the example of this that bothers me most. There's a whole system for this! A table of foraging DCs, and math for how much food you can find, and how long you can go without food, etc. But the math is set up so that a person with no survival proficiency and a +0 to WIS, in a hostile environment, will still forage enough food to be fine, and the starvation rules are so generous that even a run of bad luck is unlikely to matter. So a DM who actually tries to use these rules will quickly find that they add nothing but bookkeeping. You're rolling a bunch of checks every day of travel for something that is purpose built not to matter. And that's before you add in all the ways to trivialize or circumvent this.

These rules don't exist to be used, that is not their purpose. These rules exist because the designers were scared of the backlash to 4e, and wanted to make sure that the game had all the rules that D&D "should" have. But they didn't actually want these mechanics. They didn't want the bookkeeping, they didn't care about that style of play, but they couldn't just say, "this game isn't about that" for fear of angering traditionalists. And unfortunately the way they handled this was by putting in rules that are bad, that actively fight anyone who wants to use that style of play and act as a trap to people who take the rules in good faith.

And this means that knowing what rules are not supposed to be used is an actual skill 5e DMs develop. Part of being a good 5e DM is being able to tell the real rules that will improve your game from the fake rules that are there to placate angry forum posters. And that's just an awful position to put DMs in (especially new DMs), but it's pretty unsurprising that it creates a certain contempt for knowing the rules as written.

You should have contempt for some of the rules as written. The designers did.

[insomtiny]

finished the fallout show when's the next season.

[evening-rose-309]

bestie….

Comrade, it is ass-o-clock in the morning as I'm reviewing this.

At first glance, I would say protag dialogue is almost what you would find in a silly happy fun time rpg where you can, in fact, talk down bounty hunters by being too much nerd and too much charming at the same time.

But then the next 5 lines happened. and we ran out of charm.

[fairyroses]

#can't stop thinking about this #i hate to say it but in general i'm leaning towards the luthor point of view here? i'm all for eyes being wide open #that said i feel neither pov is wrong #the kents have their reasons to believe the way they do and so do the luthors #it's just interesting when the differences between the families are brought into the spotlight #i feel that's when the show was at its strongest #it lost a lot when it became all about love triangles instead of this (via @raelis1)

100% agree and also this is why I claim 'eyes open' by taylor swift as a lex song:

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[dykedvonte]

If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

[traveler-at-heart]

Good Luck Babe

Summary: Wanda's boyfriend is the biggest asshole you've ever met. You think she'll choose you in the end.

Wanda Romanoff x F!R, eventual Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Don't be fooled by the summary, this is a Natasha Romanoff x R fic

Classes can be a drag. Especially the early mornings, where not even a cup of coffee can make you focus.

And then, there’s Wanda Maximoff, looking at the professor as she speaks, diligently taking notes while looking perfect, as usual.

She catches you staring and you have to look away, pretending that you weren’t just wondering how she manages to look effortlessly beautiful.

Class is dismissed and you take a minute to pack your things, preparing for the next session. You try not to roll your eyes as you find Wanda with her idiot boyfriend right at the door. As usual, they take up too much space, and you have to push one of them aside.

“Coming through, princess”

You don’t have to look back to know Wanda glares at you, annoyed at the nickname.

To be fair, the first time you used it you thought you were both involved in playful banter. Hell, you even meant it to be flirty, but she took great offense in it, which was the case with most things you did, whether they were aimed at her or not.

It was pretty clear she hated your guts. You just didn’t know why.

——

“I don’t know what her problem is” Wanda says, the music loudly booming across the house.

“What?” Jarvis says, leaning forward because he didn’t hear a word Wanda said. Partly due to the loud music and also because he’s looking at other girls, albeit discreetly.

“Y/N. She’s always being a total ass” the girl says, watching as you enter the house, avoiding her stare.

“She’s just jealous because you’re so pretty” he says and that’s enough to distract Wanda.

Across the room, you curse under your breath at the sight of the Maximoff girl. God, you hate her stupid boyfriend. Always runnig his mouth to his friends about Wanda, telling them private things… you’d overheard them at a bar once and it took every ounce of your being not to kill him right then and there.

Not to mention, the rumoured affairs that everyone knew about. Everyone, but Wanda, that is.

“You made it!” Carol greets you, and then follows your gaze. “Ugh, that guy’s the worst”

“Agree” you nod, turning to look at her. “Shots?”

“Hell, yeah” your friend says, taking you to the kitchen where Val is pouring some alcohol.

To your relief, you get to avoid Wanda for the entirety of the night, and as your friends arrive you quickly forget what had soured your mood in the first place.

Wanda, on the other hand, is not having such a great time. At some point while she was chatting with Pepper, she lost sight of Jarvis and can’t seem to find him anywhere. Knowing Stark could get crazy ideas, she worries that they might be doing something reckless so she goes around the house, looking for her boyfriend.

She’s expecting everything but seeing him with his pants around his ankles while a girl Wanda doesn’t even know gives him head.

“Wanda!” Jarvis shouts, startled.

“That’s not my name” the girl says, smiling playfully. “Or are we role playing?”

“I need to get out of here” Wanda says, closing the door.

Of course, he chases her down the hall, desperately sayig any excuse he can think of. Wanda tries to walk past him, but he blocks her from going downstairs.

“Don’t be so uptight about it” he loses his patience when Wanda refuses his apology. “Guys just need to do it more than girls, it meant nothing”

“You’re an ass” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Wanda, don’t leave” he warns, as she finally walks around him to go to the first floor. The shouting makes some people turn around, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the commotion.

You’re standing next to Val and Darcy, unable to look away as the oh so happy couple keeps shouting at each other.

“Guess he got caught red handed this time” Darcy mutters. She and Wanda were friends but had a fallout and you suspected it had to do with Jarvis and his side pieces.

“Let go of me” Wanda insists when he takes her arm, pulling her close to him.

“People are staring, shut your fucking mouth”

“You’re hurting me” she protests, trying to losen his grip.

Maybe it’s the way she says it, so defeated or even scared, but those words make you snap, and you walk up to them, pushing Jarvis away.

“Stay out of it” he warns.

“Make me”

You are expecting the first punch so you dodge it in time, but he manages to land another one on your mouth, and you feel the taste of blood.

“You’re gonna regret this” you say, launching yourself forward until you knock him over, landing on a coffee table that breaks. Grabbing him by the shirt, you land two punches and go for a third one when he kicks you, making you gasp for air.

“That’s enough” Thor steps in, his brother looking delighted at the chaos. “You better leave”

Jarvis glares at him, but truth be told, Thor doesn’t like him and he is your friend. He leaves the Odinson house, cursing under his breath.

“I’m fine” you tell your friends as they bring over ice to put on your cheek.

“Want us to take you home?” Carol offers.

“It’s good” you say, shaking your head. “I should go, take some painkillers”

“Call us if you need anything”

“Ok” you pat Darcy’s back, leaving the house where everyone’s partying like nothing even happened.

As you walk to your car, you spot Wanda, sitting on the sidewalk, wiping away the tears that roll down her cheeks.

“You ok?” you ask, standing next to her.

“He’s an idiot. No, I’m the idiot for being with him” she rambles.

There’s a very sarcastic comment at the tip of yout tongue but you save it.

“Did he drove you here?” Wanda nods and you jiggle the car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm”

“I don’t want to be alone” Wanda hugs her knees, and in spite of everything, your heart aches for her.

“Any friends that can take you in for the night?” she shakes her head no and you sigh. “Wanna stay at my place?”

“Are you sure it’s ok?”

“Yeah, come on” you say, walking to the car. You drive in silence, eager to get home and put some more ice on the punch.

Wanda gets out of the car and follows you to the dorm you share with Carol, who usually stays with Val most nights.

“Take the bed” you say, handing over some clean clothes so she can change.

Wanda looks at you, and you feel uncomfortable at the intensity of her gaze.

“I… thank you, Y/N”

“Sleep tight, princess” you say with a smile and for the first time she doesn’t look upset as you call her that.

——

The smell of bacon and butter wakes you up and you stretch, trying to remember why you’re in the couch.

When you see Wanda in your kitchen, everyhing that happened comes back and you groan, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

“Ouch” you say when you rub close to the punch on your cheek.

“You’re up” Wanda says, smiling. It’s a strange sight, as she’s used to glaring at you or just ignoring your presence.

“You sleep ok?” you say, trying to hide your blush when you notice she’s still wearing the clothes you let her borrow.

“Yeah, thanks” she nods, pulling up two plates with pancakes. “I wanted to thank you for everythig you did last night”

“No need” you say, grabbing a fork and eating. Wanda’s just being nice and you honestly don’t want to force her to interact with you, so all you want is to finish your food and give her an out so she can leave.

“He’s been texting me” Wanda says, looking at her food but not eating anything. “Saying it was a mistake, a one time thing and that it would never happen again”

“And you believe him?” you try to control your tone.

“I’d heard the rumors… even from Darcy. You probably know already”

“We assumed that’s why you fought, but she told us it was none of our business. And I know this isn’t none of mine, but you deserve better”

Wanda giggles at that and you look at her, intrigued.

“I’m just… I thought you didn’t like me”

“Where’d you get that?”

“The nickname, your constant glares across the room…”

Oh, shit. Here you were thinking you were obvious about your crush, and Wanda thinks you hate her.

“I hate… Jarvis. I knew he was a dick so I always disliked him. Seeing him with you. Yeah”

“Do you like me?” Wanda asks and you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders.

The girl smiles, finishing her food. You stay in the kitchen, fidgeting with your fork until she comes back, changed into her own clothes.

“I should get back. Do you need anything? Painkillers, ice?” she leans forward, her hand touching your bruise gently. Then, you notice her eyes drifting to your lips.

“I’m fine” you say and she nods, stepping back.

“See you in class?”

“Yes” you say, smiling as she waves goodbye. Carol walks in ten seconds later, looking behind her.

“Was that…?”

“Yes”

“Did you…?”

“No” you cut her off. “She just didn’t want to be alone after what happened”

“Y/N…” Carol says in that tone you dislike so much. You’re about to get scolded over something that isn’t that big of a deal.

“Carol, come on. She slept in my room, I stayed on the couch. That’s it”

“I just don’t want to see you getting hurt” your friend says and you nod. “I mean, you got a split lip and a black eye already so maybe it’s a little late for that”

“Yeah, that’s true. Come on, there are some pancakes left”

——

You tell yourself it means nothing. Wanda sits next to you during class, and offers a second scone she got from the cafeteria.

“How’s the eye?”

“I’m not blind” you shrug your shoulders. “Jarvis hits like a little bitch”

Wanda snorts at that, and you can’t hold back your own laugh. That attracts the attention of Professor Harkness, who focuses on your eye.

“Do I even want to to know, Y/L/N?”

“Nah” you shake your head and she rolls her eyes.

“Alright”

With that, the lesson begins. You try hard to focus, but Wanda smells really nice and you’re only human. At one point, she shuffles in her seat, her leg coming in contact with yours and you give up on taking notes.

“You ok?” to your surprise, Wanda follows you out of the classroom. “I can let you borrow my notes, if you want”

“Wanda” you stop abruptly, sighing. “Listen, you don’t owe me anything. I helped because it was the right thing to do. So don’t worry about paying me back in any way”

“That’s not… ” she stutters, fixing her hair. “I don’t really have any friends. I was always with him”

“Oh” you feel like an idiot. “Well, ok. I could use those notes”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll trade them for a coffee” you smile, walking next to her to the library.

—

It surprises you, how much you and Wanda have in common. She likes sitcoms and though you’re more of a Friends kind of girl, it’s fun to watch those old shows where they dance and sing from time to time.

“I only know Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins” you confess one time, which prompts Wanda to invite you to her dorm for a marathon.

“Where are you going?” Darcy says when you walk past her and Carol that evening.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun” Carol smiles and you glare at your friend.

“Well, Wanda and I…”

“Oh, my God! You traitor. Brutus!” Darcy shouts, throwing a napkin at you. “She’s the worst”

“I wouldn’t know. You didn’t tell me what happened”

“She got you there” Carol points out, eating popcorn while she enjoys the show.

“That is besides the point”

“Look, I’m not putting Wanda on my will or anything, we’re just hanging out. And if she mentions you, I’ll be the first one to defend you”

Darcy sighs, chewing on her lip.

“It’s not about me. Wanda has the habit of just… using people when she’s bored or on a break from that idiot. And then they get back together and forgets about you. Which sucks. I wouldn’t want it to be the case for you, that’s all”

“I’ll be careful” you promise.

Once at Wanda’s, you’re trying to enjoy the show, but Darcy’s words are echoing in your head. You had to admit that if you spent more time with Wanda, you’d probably develop an even bigger crush. And if she went back to that asshole, it would hurt you.

Was it really worth it?

“Is the show boring? We can watch something else. I know it’s weird that I like this” Wanda pauses mid episode.

“No, it’s just… Darcy said some things…”

“Oh. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to hang out anymore” she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it would be good if you fix things with her? Say sorry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it”

“I can try, but you know her. She won’t make it easy” you both laugh at that. “Is that all?”

“Yeah” you lie. “Come on, let’s keep watching. I wanna know if Rob goes to Ritchie’s play”

Wanda smiles, this time moving closer to you. Her head rests on your shoulder, relaxing against you. It’s so intoxicating, to have her so close, to feel her warmth.

And all you can think over and over again is “please don’t break my heart”. But you can’t ask for the impossible.

—

You’re really not expecting Wanda to take your suggestion at heart, but one day you see her speaking with Darcy in the hallway, your friend pretending to not be interested in the conversation at all.

The only sign that she actually forgives Wanda is when you’re sitting with the girl at the cafeteria and Darcy sits next to you, carrying a tray.

“This is the only seat that I could find” she mutters unconvincingly, making you and Wanda smile.

Though you spent most of the time in each other’s dorms, watching movies or shows. You learn that Jarvis was the one that dragged Wanda to all those parties and anytime you invite her to one she politely declines.

Now, you’re staying in while the rest of your friends are at the Odinson mansion. You don’t know if they’re allergies or a mild cold, but you’ve been feeling sick all day and wanted to rest.

“Coming” you groan when someone knocks. You open the door to find Wanda on the other side. “You’ll get sick, what are you doing here?”

“I made you soup”

“Thanks” you take the container, and you gotta admit the idea of warm soup makes your mouth water. “I’d say do you want to come in, but I really do worry this might be contagious”

“I’ll be fine” she walks inside, finding her usual place in the couch and patting the spot next to her. “Come on. We’ll even watch that boring show you like”

“The Office is not boring!” you huff, making her laugh.

A couple of episodes later, and you feel your eyes slowly closing, a side effect from the  medicine you took. Wanda notices, and makes you walk to your room.

As you lay in bed, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel Wanda sliding next to you, her hand on your forehead.

“Your fever is down”

“Mhm. Thanks to the magic soup”

“I’m staying, in case you need anything”

“Ok, baby” you nod, too sleepy to notice what you’re saying.

Wanda’s heart flutters at the term of endearment, and she watches you sleep peacefully, her mind racing with thoughts about what could this possibly mean to you both.

On the other hand, you don’t remember anything and are startled when you feel someone sleeping next to you.

“Wanda?” you say when you turn around, smiling at how cute she looks, all confused.

“I must have fallen asleep here. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks” you lay on your side, still smiling. Wanda is still thinking about the way you called her and it’s fairly obvious you don’t remember.

Still, she leans forward and you almost watch in slow motion as her lips meet yours in a short kiss.

“Why did you…”

“You make me feel… I don’t know. Safe. I’m sorry, if I crossed line. Maybe I should go…” she sits up and you follow suit, making her turn to you.

This second kiss is a bit more urgent and less delicate, but you hope it makes a point.

“Now I really hope that what I had wasn’t contagious”

Wanda laughs at that, her hand over yours.

——

The next few weeks you grow closer to Wanda. You spend most of the time at her place, watching sitcoms and more often than not, you end up making out on her bed, until you’re both out of breath.

She also enjoys teasing you endlessly, like that time she sat next to you in Agatha’s class and put her hand on your thigh. Your knee jolted forward, crashing against the table and making the professor glare at you.

This time, you’re supposed to be studying in your room, but you find that looking at Wanda as she goes over her notes is far more interesting.

“Stop” she says after a few minutes and you smile.

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re staring”

“Can you blame me?” you crawl behind her, placing small kisses down her neck. She sighs at the contact, leaning against your front.

“Are you doing this to get my notes?”

“Maybe” you laugh against her shoulder, making her turn until you’re kissing her, and she pushes you down on the bed, straddling your lap.

“You better work for them, then”

Next day, when you’re done with your test, the first thing you do is reach for Wanda’s hand. To your surprise, she flinches away, grabbing the strap of her bagpack.

“Did you do ok on the test?” she’s quick to ask, hoping you won’t push it too much.

“I think so, yeah”

“If you pass, I’d say you owe me for borrowing my notes” she smiles.

“Well, we could go out to the movies. Or dinner?” you suggest, your heart beating faster. It’s a thought that has been going through your mind recently.

Not that you don’t enjoy the kissing and sneaking around, but you’re eager to take Wanda out, find new places together, talk about something else other than classes and her old shows.

“I’m not sure I can make it” Wanda says, avoiding your eyes again.

This new rejection stings and you drop your shoulders, looking for an excuse to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. We have lots of stuff to do. I’ll catch you later” you say, walking faster and not waiting for Wanda’s reply.

The rest of the day is spent in your dorm, which isn’t unusual. The only difference is that you’re alone instead of enjoying Wanda’s company, and hiding from seeing her.

“Wanna go to Joe’s with us?” Carol offers. “To celebrate midterms are over”

“Sounds fun” you agree, because it’s been forever since you’ve been with your friends.

“You can invite your girl”

“She’s not my girl”

“Oh?” Carol tilts her head to the side, putting the pieces together. “So that’s why you only hang out in the dorms”

“What did you think we were doing?”

“Having sex like crazy”

No answer comes to you, because sex is something that hasn’t happened yet. Or maybe never, considering Wanda doesn’t want anything more.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants, Carol”

“Do you?” she asks gently. Your immediate response is a shrug of your shoulders, and it’s a lie, because you know exactly what you want. “Come on, it’s her loss then. Let’s just go out and have fun”

Meeting your friends does improve your mood and you’re happy you listened to Carol. You eat and play pool, until everyone gets restless and looks for something else to do.

“Heard Stark is having a party” Carol says, knowing he always gets the fancy booze.

“Pass” you’re the first one to speak.

“Why?”

“Isn’t he best friends with Jarvis?” Darcy says. “We don’t want to have another fight, do we?”

“Oh come on, there will be so many people he won’t even notice that you’re there!” Carol insists, and you can tell she’s gonna be stubborn and annoying until she gets what she wants.

So, you agree, but spend the whole time looking around, waiting for that jerk to pop out of nowhere and pick up a fight.

“I don’t think he’s here” Darcy says, patting your back. “Let’s just have some fun, then Val will drag Carol out of here and we can go home, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan” you nod.

For the next hour, you do enjoy the party and are even surprised when Tony seems happy to see you. To be fair, he is a lot nicer than most of his friends. You’re relaxed, dancing to the music and doing shots with Darcy and Val, almost forgetting why you were so sad in the first place.

That is, until you walk out of the living room to get another beer, but the place is so crowded you bump into a girl.

“Sorry, are you ok?” you say, turning to make sure she’s fine.

Your stomach drops when your eyes meet Wanda’s.

She calls for you, but the sound of her voice is drowned out by the music and the ringing in your ears. Jarvis says Wanda’s name, and you take advantage of the distraction to escape, pushing people out of the way.

When the fresh air hits you, the first thing you do is bend over the railing of the porch and throw up, coughing and wretching violently.

“It’s ok” Darcy comes out of nowhere, getting the hair out of your face.

“Shit” Val sobers up immediately. “Time to go home?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get a cab” Carol says, patting your back.

They think you’re wasted, but all you are is heartbroken. Wanda was with him, after everything you’ve been through.

The shame over being so naive makes you stay in your dorm for the entire day.

Wanda shows up the minute Carol leaves.

“You should go”

“Please let me explain”

“I don’t think that’s possible” you shake your head. You know it, deep down. She’ll never give you a place in her life.

“We’re just… friends. He wanted to talk, apologize”

“Wanda” you plead, hoping she’ll stop. But instead, she pushes past you, her hands in your face.

“I can’t lose you”

“Why would I stay?”

Wanda answers with a kiss, that is slow at first, and then borderline agressive. You’re pushing, then pulling, unsure of what you want from her, but she pulls your pants down, just enough for her hand to fit, moving past your underwear and circling your clit. Your nails dig into her shoulders, gasping and breathing as she enters roughly, her fingers moving fast and hard.

It’s not nice or affectionate, but a way to further claim you, ruin you, brand you. Now she’s reached and touched more of you, and you’ll never be able to erase it.

Your orgasm comes unexpectedly, and after the high, you come crashing down. All you feel is bitterness and guilt and anger. Wanda stays inside, biting your neck. The sting reminds you, you’re only gonna get pain out of this.

—

It becomes a vicious circle. Wanda is distant in public, because more often than not Jarvis is by her side. And then, she corners you in any spot she can find, kissing you and pressing her body against yours.

The more you let her in, the weaker you are and it’s nearly impossible to stay away. It will hurt if she leaves, and it hurts to be with her.

“I don’t know how to stay away” you confess to Carol one particularly hard night. Darcy was called to offer her support, and she provided that along with snacks. “You were right, Darcy”

“I didn’t want to be” she says, holding your hand. “You’re the only one who can put a stop to this. She’ll never stop looking for you”

You can’t see yourself doing that, but then you walk past her in the hallway, and you hear her saying those words to Jarvis.

“I love you”

You couldn’t even get her to hold your fucking hand.

Pushing past her, you walk away, hoping to find the nearest bathroom and lock yourself there. Lucky for you, Wanda doesn’t follow you.

There’s someone else waiting outside.

“Miss Y/L/N” Professor Harkness greets and you nod, looking at your feet and hoping she doesn’t notice your red eyes.

“Professor”

“You’re too advanced for my class. My wife has a spot in her lecture. New people to impress, most of them pHD students”

Her emphasis in the new makes you understand.

You won’t have to see Wanda in class.

“Ok. I’d like that”

“Keep your head high, kiddo” Agatha says, her hand on your chin. “And don’t tell any of this to Rio or she’ll accuse me of going soft”

“Yes, Professor Harkness. Thank you”

“Mhm” she nods, giving her signature smirk and turning around.

One less place where you’ll have to see Wanda.

Soon after that, you change everything about your routine. Where you eat, study, even go out for runs. Hell, you change your phone number and Darcy is kind enough to let you stay with her for a while. That, and the Thanksgiving break are enough to give you three weeks of space.

It hurts and more than once you have to stop yourself from looking for Wanda. But what’s the point of being a secret? The longer it goes on, the more it will hurt.

Still, there are days when anger weights heavier than sadness. You’re mad at yourself, for being so stupid. At Wanda, because she was a coward and a liar. And those times, you get restless and go out to run, listening to music until you reach a hidden lake. It’s one of the few places you can be at peace, because you found it after Wanda broke your heart. So, there’s no ghost of her here, only you and your conflicting emotions.

Throwing stones at the lake is a way to pass time, and you’re doing exactly that when you hear rustling behind you.

“Sorry” a raspy voice says. Your eyes meet green ones, but these are softer, almost shy. The girl has beautiful red hair, braided with a few strands lose. She misinterprets your silence, and quickly retreats. “I’ll find another spot”

“That’s ok. I can… I can go”

“No, you don’t have to” she’s quick to reassure.

“Well, we can always share” you propose, smiling. The girl nods, and places her bagpack next to a log. She pulls out a book, and begins reading. You continue throwing rocks, stealing glances here and there.

“Is the book any good?” you finally ask.

“Depends”

“On what?”

“On your fascination with social expectations in Russian society during the 19th century”

“Pass. Got anything lighter?” you joke. To your surprise, the girl pulls out another book.

“How about the perils of indulging in romantic fantasies?”

“I know those very well” you say, grimacing. She puts the book down, smiling at you. You try to smile back, but turn your attention back to the lake until you’re able to calm down.

“Lit major?” you guess, pointing at the spot next to her. She moves her bag, allowing you to sit.

“Yeah. You?”

“Anthropology. Minor in Art History. I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other in the building”

“I'm a grad student, so I’m usually at the library” the girl says.

“No parties?”

“No one ever invites me” she shakes her head.

“I’d invite you” you blurt out, finding her blush adorable. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward”

“It’s not… you’re fine”

“So. Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary. Are you trying to find out if Tolstoy really wrote his book with Flaubert’s in mind?”

The girl gives you an appreciative smile, nodding.

“Yeah, but it’s more about how men in 19th century wrote about women. Even in two different societies, the protagonists are punished for following their desires”

“No one should be punished for that” you say, looking at her. She averts her eyes, holding back a smile.

“Why Anthropology?” she changes the subject.

“Because. We’re the same and we’re not, even thousand of years apart. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“How so?”

“Do you think you have anything in common with someone who lived thirty thousand years ago?”

“We need food to survive. Sleep, water, oxygen” she lists, and you nod.

“Mhm. All basic needs. Next question, did you make a drawing of your hand when you were a kid?”

“Everyone did” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Because it was my hand and no one else’s”

“And people thirty thousand years ago thought the same thing. And left their handprint in a cave in Southern France. Isn’t that something wonderful?”

She stays silent for a second and then smiles.

“I suppose it is, yes. To have an impact, so long after you’re gone too”

“You get it” you nod. “I’m Y/N, by the way”

“Natasha” she says, smiling at you.

The next few days, you catch yourself thinking about Natasha, and even with all the distractions, your mind goes back to her. It takes every ounce of self control to not wait everyday by the lake. Why would you want to get hurt, when you just started healing?

Love never ends well for Anna Karenina, Emma Bovary or yourself.

And yet… three days later you’re by the lake, holding a book of your own collection and an extra scone. You’re about to give up when Natasha shows up, and she seems as eager as you.

“Hey”

“Hi” she answers, a smile on her face. “Am I interrupting lunch?”

“This is for you. I mean, I was hoping I’d see you here” you stutter, looking everywhere but Natasha’s eyes.

“I was hoping to see you too” she confesses. It takes you by surprise, so she grabs the scone and the book as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Emily Dickinson” she reads. “Enjoying it?”

“You can borrow it if you want. I mean, yes I enjoyed it when I read it. But I just thought, you might like a change from male authors”

“Thank you” she nods, holding it close to her. “I actually have to go…”

“Oh, right” you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

“Can I have your number?” Natasha blurts out, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. “To give you your book back”

You smile, handing over your phone.

“I recently changed my number and I haven’t memorized it yet. So give me yours”

“Ok” she says. As soon as the device is back in your hands, you send her a text.

“See? Now I’m sure I gave you the right number”

“Talk to you soon. Thanks for the food”

When is it appropriate to text someone without looking desperate?

Either way, you can’t hold back your excitement as you walk to your dorm, jumping on Carol’s back as she’s eating her cereal.

“Are you mad?” she says, flakes and milk flying all over the counter.

“I’m just happy!”

“Why?” she glares, hoping you’re not back to your old ways.

“I spoke to a girl. And she gave me her phone number”

“Oh, my God! Y/N!” Carol shouts, the rest of her cereal thrown away as she dances around.

“What’s all the fuss?” Val says from the shower, concerned over the noise. Carol runs to the bathroom and opens the door wide.

“Y/N met a girl”

“Way to go!” Val joins the celebration and you’re about to say thank you when you notice she’s stepping out of the shower.

“Gah, bye”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want your new girlfriend to think you’re a pervert!”

“Shut up” you say, walking to your room and flipping her off without turning back.

The rest of your evening is spent studying, but also looking at your phone waiting for anything to come through.

As you’re getting ready to sleep, there’s a text.

Nat: I’m ready to give the book back.

Y/N: It’s been… seven hours?

Nat: I’m a fast reader.

Nat: Secret spot? Saturday morning.

Y/N: I’ll be there

—

It’s the first time you’re there so early. The light filters through the leaves, birds chirping as their day begins with the rays of sunshine.

The walk to the lake is lovely, and you spot a couple of small flowers as you find your way to the place. Deciding to get one for luck, you twirl it around in your fingers.

You sit by the log, looking at the fog over the surface of the water when you hear soft footsteps approaching.

“I was afraid you’d stood me up” you joke when Natasha sits next to you.

“And stole your book?”

“The book, I could get over” you admit, giving her the flower. Natasha smiles, her fingertips caressing the petals delicately.

Your eyes are focused on the curve of her lips and those beaufitul eyes.

“Well, I’m here” she says, smiling when your eyes meet hers. “Thank you, I enjoyed reading it”

You take the book, your hands touching briefly.

“There’s a problem, though”

“What is it?” you say, worried that something’s wrong.

“I gave the book back, but I still have to thank you for that scone”

“Oh” you laugh.

“So, what is your preferred payment method? Ice cream? Coffee?”

“It’s a little early for ice cream”

“Then we’ll get it later. I know just the place”

“Yeah. I’d like that”

Though there are no classes, Natasha still has to meet with her advisor, so you chat for an hour until she has to go back to uni, agreeing to meet at your dorm in the evening.

“Is this a date?” you ask your friends on the video call as they agree on what you should wear.

“Of course it is, you silly goose!” Carol says, her face occupying half of the screen. “Wear something hot!”

“No, something comfortable. It’s an ice cream date, not a club” Val argues, trying to get a glimpse of the options.

“Something comfortable AND hot”

As they keep arguing, you opt for a pair of jeans, a white cotton t-shirt and a light jacket.

“Gotta go” you say when someone knocks. After hanging up, you are surprised to check Natasha’s ten minutes early. Plus, you don’t remember giving her your exact room number, agreeing you’d come down and meet at the lobby.

You’re about to open the door when the voice on the other side makes you stop in your tracks.

“Y/N? Please. Open up. I need you”

Wanda.

That voice, those words, the feelings you’ve been trying so hard to push away and bury come back. But instead of hurting you, they make you angry. You’re about to go out with a wonderful girl, who seems geniuenly interested in you. And here comes Wanda, trying to stain that as well.

Without thinking twice, you climb out of the window, holding on to the emergency ladder. You look down, unsure of what to do when you reach the last step.

"What are you doing?" Natasha says, rushing to stand above you.

"Parkour?" you reply weakly. "Is it too high?"

"Don't worry, I'll catch you"

Trusting her, you jump. Truth to her word, she eases the fall as you land, but you drag her along with you as you stay on the floor.

“Are you hurt? Why did you do that?”

Her hands are running over every inch of your face, going down to your shoulders and arms. The worry in her eyes only makes your heart beat faster.

“My roomate accidentally locked me inside”

You figure it's better than saying "My situationship is outside my door and I wanted to avoid her"

“You could have told me, and I would have gone and find her” Natasha insists.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s get ice cream? I won’t ever do this again” you promise, holding her hand. The redhead rolls her eyes, but nods and leads you away from the building.

You make small talk, appreciating how her hand doesn’t leave yours as you get away from campus and to the walking district. You try to look discreetly behind you, hoping Wanda didn’t see you and followed you.

Natasha finds the store, opening the door for you.

“Rocky road, please” you give Natasha puppy eyes and she smiles, ordering strawberry ice cream for her.

“So, what’s your deal?” she asks as you leave the store.

“My deal? What do you mean?” you say, mouth full of ice cream. The girl wipes the corner of your mouth with her napkin.

“You mentioned parties. Are you some sort of wild girl looking for someone to charm every night?”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite the Casanova” you laugh. “No, come on. My friends are cool and we just like to have fun from time to time”

“So, not a player” she notes with a smile.

“I did get my heart broken, though”

“Fella done you wrong?”

“His girlfriend done me wrong” you correct, wishing you were talking about anything else. But truthfully, if you want things to work out, you better be honest. “She was with me, but only on her terms and as if I were a secret”

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that”

“I moved on. So, don’t think I’m just messing here, Nat. I really like you” you hurry to say, blushing slightly.

“I like you too” she takes your hand. “Now, let’s finish our ice cream so I can show you this awesome bookstore I found”

The next few hours are spent talking about college, some of your plans for the future and also, your friends. You smile when Natasha comments she’d love to hang out with them.

Before it gets dark, you walk back to campus. Worried that Wanda might still be at your door, you asked Darcy a while back to go check. Apparently, the coast was clear.

Natasha walks you to the door.

“I had the best time” you say, smiling. “We should do it again. Maybe go to the movies?”

“Would love to” Natasha nods, her eyes drifting to your lips. You lean forward, heart beating fast as you’re eager to feel her lips on yours.

“Are you still here? I told you to beat it!” Darcy opens the door, making you both jump back. “Oops, I thought you were someone else. Sorry, I’ll go back inside. Pretend this didn’t happen, make out”

“Darcy” you groan. Your friend doesn’t get inside, though.

“The famous Natasha. Y/N here won’t shut up about you”

“Shhh, don’t listen to her, she’s off her meds” you ask Nat, covering Darcy’s mouth and pushing her inside. As you close the door, you hold it so she can’t open it again.

Natasha laughs, her hands going to your hips and pulling you softly. You take a few steps forward, smiling as she lifts your chin, leaning to connect your lips in a slow kiss.

It’s mindblowingly good, although too short for your liking.

“So, when are we doing this again?”

“The date or the kiss?” she jokes and your hands go around her neck.

“Both”

“As soon as you’re free” she says, kissing you once more before leaving for the day.

Darcy snaps a picture the second you walk inside.

“That’s the gayest you’ve ever looked, congrats” she says, sending the picture to the group chat.

You roll your eyes, pulling out your phone and smiling.

Y/N: Best I’ve ever had

Nat: The kiss or the ice cream?

Y/N: What do you think?

Smiling at your phone, you walk to the couch where your friend is sitting.

“I’m happy that you’re happy” she says, relieved that you’re healing from everything that Wanda put you through.

“Me too” you sigh, pulling your knees against your chest. “Though I do have to ask. Did Wanda say why was she here?”

“I didn’t care enough to find out. All I did was tell her to leave you alone. And then I pretended you were inside so she wouldn’t go anywhere else looking for you”

“You’re a great friend” you nudge her with your foot and she glares.

“Ew, get that thing away from me”

“I take it back” you show her your tongue.

The next week, you text Natasha between classes, and though she’s very busy, she’s always making time to get back to you. You agree to go out on another date on Friday, but neither one can wait to see each other, so you end up at the library on a Wednesday evening, each one focused on your work.

Well, Natasha is focused on her work. You’re looking at her, because this is the first time you’ve seen her wearing glasses and it’s adorable.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Plenty” you say, not even pretending to be reading your notes.

“You’re not the only one who’s staring” Natasha’s eyebrow arches, speaking without looking up. “Brunette, green eyes, a lot of rings and eyeshadow”

“Oh”

“Is that the infamous ex?” she says and you’re scared she’ll be upset about this whole situation.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m sorry. If she’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll just leave…”

Natasha looks up at that, eyeing you up and down as you struggle to read her expression. She surprises you by pulling your chair until it bumps against hers, leaning forward and kissing you, one of her hands on your thigh and the other holding your chin, in that signature move that always makes your head spin.

“Maybe that’ll keep her away” Natasha says, smiling and bumping her nose against yours.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to focus on an essay” you say, biting your lip.

“Then let’s get something to eat. We need a break from all this studying” she proposes, picking up her things and leading you out of the library, her hand in yours.

You don’t care to look around for Wanda to check if she’s watching, because this moment with Natasha is yours. She’s holding your hand, kissing you, spending time with you whenever she can, instead of hiding you like you’re a dirty secret.

By being herself, she’s given you the one thing you always craved for. Something real.

Finally, Friday comes and you’re buzzing with excitement, getting ready to meet Natasha.

“Wanna go to a party tomorrow? You can invite your girlfriend” Val says, painting her nails while Carol throws a ball in the air.

“We haven’t had the talk about being each other girlfriends”

“What? And you call yourself a lesbian? This is the second date, you should be adopting a cat by now”

“Like you and Val with Goose?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sorry to disappoint the sapphics, I’m just trying to not scare her away. And about the party, yeah, if Natasha’s up for it, we’ll stop by”

“Alright, it’s at Stark’s”

“Oh. Maybe not, then”

Your friends share a look, and you glare as they both stay silent.

“You can’t avoid her forever” Val is the first one to speak. “She’s gonna keep looking for you, getting in the middle of what could be a good relationship just because she thinks she can”

“Yeah, next time you see her, don’t jump out the window. Open the door and tell her off” Carol agrees.

“You did what?” Val looks at you, baffled.

“It’s ok, Nat was there to catch me. Speaking of which” you hear a knock on the door, and stand up. “See ya, cat ladies”

“Hey! We only have the one”

You laugh as you open the door, but then you’re interrupted by Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Hey”

“Hello” she smiles, and then looks behind you as your friends whistle.

“Meet Val and Carol. My two former best friends” you grumble when they make kissing sounds.

“Nice to meet you” Natasha greets over your shoulder.

“Bring her home at a decent time” Carol says. “Unless you plan on having sex. In that case take her back to yours so she doesn’t wake me up”

“I hate you so much” you sigh, pulling Nat away.

“We’ll see you at the party tomorrow”

“Sorry about them” you mumble when you’re going down the stairs.

“What was that about a party?” she asks, opening the car door for you.

“Ever heard of Tony Stark? Big house, bigger ego. Loves to have parties. We don’t have to go unless you want to” you say, half expecting her to turn down the invitation.

“If you want me to go I’ll be there”

“I just want us to spend some time together, doing whatever you want” you say, blushing.

“I did promise I’d try going to a party with you, and it seems like the perfect time. Could meet the rest of your friends”

“Alright then” you nod, excited and terrified about how things could turn out if a certain someone is there.

Carol is right, though. You can’t be looking over your shoulder all the time, expecting Wanda to approach you and open those wounds.

If you have closure, in whatever way that is, she won’t have the power to hurt you anymore.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Natasha by your side, her hand clasped in yours over your leg. At one point, you lean against her shoulder and she kisses your temple.

She’s so perfect, it makes you dizzy.

“What did you think about the movie?” she asks as you go out of the theater, her arm around your waist.

“It was good. I’m glad I understood most of it without having watched those other Alien movies”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked a different one” she protests, pulling you to a stop.

“I just want to be with you. Plus you looked so excited to watch it, I had a hard time saying no”

“Is that so?” she arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t use that against me, Natasha” you warn, getting ready to argue but her lips silence you, and you moan against the kiss.

It’s not nearly enough, and you need more of her, not just kissing.

“So if I ask you to go back home with me, will you still have a hard time saying no?”

“On the second date? What do you think I am, a harlot?”

“I’d count the lake as a date of it’s own. And the library too”

“So, this is like the fourth one?” you say, counting with your fingers.

“You don’t have to, I was only…”

Natasha’s words are cut off by your lips on hers, and she holds back a moan of her own when you run your tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’d very much like to go back to your place”

The drive back is silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. There’s a certain tension, and the expectation of what is about to happen makes you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

“This is home” Natasha says, opening the door to her apartment. Of course, as a grad student, you expected her to have her own place, but you still admire how homey it feels. There are books everywhere, which makes sense, and pictures of Natasha’s family.

“It’s lovely” you say, turning back to look at her. The tour of the place is forgotten, as you watch Natasha approach you slowly, her hands dropping to your waist.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. A bit” you admit, because lying to Natasha has never been something you’d consider doing. “I want this to be perfect. And for you to really like it”

For me to be enough.

“It’s already perfect” she says, coming closer and kissing you slowly. Your eyes close as you enjoy the sensation of her lips against yours, hands wandering to your lower back. Without breaking the kiss, you discard your jacket and take hers off as well, and she immediately pulls you against her, your hands holding her cheeks as she deepens the kiss.

“Are we doing it standing up?” you ask when she breaks apart, breathing heavily against your neck. “Because I’ve never tried it, but I am open to experimenting”

“You could just say that we should take this to the bedroom” she laughs against your temple.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Still, she laughs as you pull her by the belt loop of her pants, guessing that her bedroom must be that last door to the left.

“Bingo” you smile, opening the door. There are more books scattered on the nightstand and the floor, but at least the bed is clear. “God, Nat, your reading is gonna kill me” you say as you fall to the bed and make her land on top of you.

“Sorry, I don’t have company very often”

“Are you a virgin?” you tease, knowing full well she’s dated in the past, though nothing serious.

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, her lips drifting down to your neck, and then lower to your stomach. In one swift motion, she unsclaps your bra and lifts your shirt up, her tongue swirling around a nipple. You moan, surprised at the contact, holding her head in place as she moves to the other nipple.

“Does it look like my first time?” Natasha says against your lips, her hands going down to undo the button of your jeans.

“I’m sorry, I was only joking, baby” you say, and it’s almost embarassing how desperate you sound.

“Good girl” she comments, pulling your pants down. You struggle with your underwear and Natasha’s too impatient, so she pulls it aside and starts eating you out, her tongue making circles and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you say, biting your hand to keep you from screaming. Natasha nudges your clit with her nose as she moves to go up and down and you’re close when she stops. “Why?”

“I want to be inside you”

It’s a mystery, how your brain doesn’t stop functioning at that, but you manage to discard your shirt and start to undress Natasha, eager to feel her skin against yours. Once you’re both naked, she flips you, so you’re on top of her, straddling her lap.

“I’m debating if it would be better to have my fingers or my strap buried in your pussy” she says, and you wonder how the girl who is so well spoken can manage to be so crass.

Not that you’re complaining.

“Anything you want” you say, aware that you’re rubbing your center against her thigh.

“What’s that?”

“I… please. Just use me” you plead, desperate for some release.

Those words do it for Natasha, who takes out a strap on from her nightstand. You protest when she stands up to fasten it around her hips, feeling like you’re gonna combust if she’s not touching you.

“Shh, I’m here” she soothes you, laying on top of you and rubbing the strap against your entrance.

“Fuck me, Nat” you squeeze your legs around her, hoping she stops teasing you.

“That’s the plan, baby. Tell me if it hurts?” Natasha asks as she begins to fill you up, and you’re too far gone to give a verbal confirmation, nodding instead.

“More” you insist when she stops, searching for any sign of discomfort. Natasha thrusts forward, sinking the entire shaft and you moan, arching your back. “Harder”

Truthfully, Natasha’s never been so adventurous or forward in her sex life, but the way you’re pleading, clenching and panting underneath her, wakes something entirely new inside her. Pushing your knees against your chest, she moves in and out, reaching new spots that make you see stars.

“Yes, yes, yes” is all you manage to say, holding on to the sheets as your knuckles turn white. “Nat, I’m gonna…”

The words are stuck in your mouth as a powerful orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless. You feel Natasha slowing down her movements, and then she goes to kiss your neck, the strap still buried inside you.

“That was…” you sigh, trying to make your brain work. As your breathing steadies, your muscles relax and you let a finger run up and down Natasha’s side. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the one with the big words”

“That was fucking hot” she says, making you laugh. “And I’m not done with you”

Good thing your schedule was clear for the next day, because you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

—

Your muscles feel sore when you wake up, stretching and turning in Natasha’s arms, watching her sleep.

Her alarm woke you up, but she’s still sound asleep.

“Nat” you say, moving her fiery hair out of her face. “Baby”

“No” she protests.

“Time to get up. You’re meeting your advisor, remember?”

Natasha curses under her breath, clearly not caring enough to wake up.

“Hey… what if I sit on your face?”

“I’m up” she says, opening her eyes and pulling you by the waist. “Come on, giddy up”

“Nuh-uh. Get dressed”

“Why would you lie about something like that?” she whines, burying her face in your neck.

“I didn’t lie, because technically, I didn’t say I’d do it right now. Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast and then we can go back to uni”

“Fine. But this discussion is not over” she kisses your cheeks, neck and then your lips, smiling as you laugh. “Morning”

“Morning, baby” you say, appreciating how beautiful she looks even with bed hair.

When she gets up, you find one of her t-shirts and go to the kitchen, looking at your options. You opt for french toast and make some coffee, because Natasha is definitely gonna need it to stay awake.

“Tastes amazing” she comments when you sit down to eat.

“Breakfast or me?” you tease and she almost chokes with her coffee. “Sorry, let’s eat”

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“Laundry, some homework. Standard stuff”

“Do you have any plans for lunch?” Natasha asks and you shake your head no. “Would you like to eat with me? After I’m done with my meeting and you finish your stuff, of course”

“Would love to” you say, smiling at how domestic and perfect it all feels.

Once you finish breakfast, you get changed and walk to Nat’s car. Parking close to your dorm, she kisses you goodbye and walks to the professor's offices.

You’re so distracted, thinking about everything that happened that you don’t notice Wanda sitting outside your dorm until you’re at the door.

“Wanda” you say, your hands in the pocket of your jeans. “Hey”

“Y/N? Did you just get here?” she says, looking around and then at the time on her phone. “You didn’t sleep here?”

“What do you want?”

“I want… to apologize”

You sigh, hoping the conversation ends soon so you don’t have to ever talk to her again.

“Anything else?”

“I thought he would change. He promised. But then it happened, again and again. And all I could think about is how you’d never do that to me”

“No, I wouldn’t. But now it’s too late. You made your choice”

“It was the wrong choice. Please, just give me another chance. I was scared before…”

“No, Wanda. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear it and we’re not gonna be anything at all. Natasha is… she’s amazing and I want to be with her. You had a choice to make and you went with him. And now… I have to choose the girl I’m in love with”

“Is there anything I can do or say…?”

“No. I’m sorry” you shake your head. Wanda nods, wiping away the tears. It does tug at your heart, seeing her so alone and broken. But it’s not on you to fix this.

Not anymore.

You let out a sigh when she leaves the hallway, turning in the other direction so she doesn’t see you wiping away a tear of your own.

Your eyes meet Natasha’s. She’s holding a bouquet, looking at you intensely.

“Nat. I can explain.”

The redhead drops the flowers and you’re scared she’ll walk away, but instead, she approaches you, lifting you as she kisses you. You sigh against her lips, holding on to her as if she’s the only thing in the world.

“I heard. Everything. You don’t have to explain anything” she puts you down, smiling. “I’m in love with you too”

“I don’t… know what to say” you laugh, craddling her face in your hands.

“No need to speak” she pulls you closer again, walking back until your're cornered against your door.

“I swear to God, if it’s that girl again I’m going to…” Carol opens the door without a warning, making you almost fall. “Awww, you guys! Val, come look! They’re kissing”

“With tongue?”

“I hate you so much” you complain, hiding your face in Natasha’s neck. She laughs, kissing your temple. “Now close the door so I can say goodbye to my girlfriend”

“Girlfriend? Val, they’re girlfriends!”

“Wohoo!” the girl screams from somewhere inside the apartment.

“Agh, it’s like having overbearing lesbian mothers” you slam the door shut, turning to Natasha. “I’m staying at your place tonight, or they will drive me insane with all their questions”

“Tonight, every night. Whatever you want. Just know… you’re getting very little sleep” she says with a smirk, kissing you.

“I can live with that”

[rafeskai]

Soft Spot — Rafe Cameron

Requested by @a-j-stuffs

Summary: One wild summer night, a bonfire turns intense, shaking up the dynamic between you and your lifelong friend, Rafe Cameron. When things get out of hand, emotions spill over, and the bond you’ve always shared starts to feel… different. As you deal with the fallout, layers you didn’t know existed start peeling back, showing a side of Rafe you hadn’t fully seen before. It’s a mix of fear, loyalty, and something deeper brewing under the surface. What happens next makes you question everything about where the two of you really stand.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings: profanities, violence, implied smut

The rivalry between the Kooks and Pogues was just part of life on the Outer Banks, but you had always thought it was ridiculous. Growing up as part of the Figure Eight elite came with its own perks and pressures, but you never saw yourself as better than anyone else. That mindset earned you side-eyes from both Kooks and Pogues, though you didn’t care much—especially now that Sarah Cameron’s relationship with John B had brought you closer to the so-called enemy.

Still, your longest friendships were with the boys you grew up with—Rafe Cameron, Topper Thornton, and Kelce. The trio had been a constant in your life since childhood. Even with their egos and bad decisions, you knew they had your back. Rafe especially had always been different with you. Your families were close, and that bond extended to the two of you. Beneath his rough edges and impulsive nature, Rafe was someone you trusted—a boy who seemed to turn into a better version of himself when you were around.

Tonight’s bonfire was supposed to be a distraction. The kind of wild, chaotic gathering where the lines between Kooks and Pogues blurred just enough for everyone to coexist. Sarah had convinced you to come, promising she’d stick by your side.

“Just an hour,” she’d said, grinning as she grabbed your hand and led you toward the glowing fire.

But Sarah had a habit of getting caught up in her own world, and the moment John B arrived, she was gone. You didn’t mind at first. The air was warm, the music loud, and the fire crackled against the night sky. It was the kind of summer night that should have felt perfect.

Until he showed up.

The man wasn’t someone you recognized—tall, with a rough edge to his features and a sloppiness to his movements that screamed drunk. His clothes were Kook-preppy, but his demeanor was far from charming.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred, his grin too wide as he stepped into your space. “Why’re you standing here all alone?”

You took a small step back, clutching your red Solo cup tighter. “I’m not alone,” you said evenly. “Just waiting for someone.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, swaying slightly but still managing to block your path.

You glanced around the crowd, hoping to spot someone—anyone—familiar. “My friends,” you lied.

His grin twisted, and he leaned closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. “C’mon, don’t play hard to get. You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to step around him, but he grabbed your arm before you could.

His grip was rough, and it made your stomach drop. “Don’t be like that,” he said, his voice darkening. “You’re too pretty to be so cold.”

Your chest tightened. “Let go of me.”

The man didn’t listen. Instead, he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, his other hand brushing against your shoulder. “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The lie shattered the moment he yanked you hard, his fingers digging into your arm. You stumbled, the pain sharp enough to make you cry out.

“Stop!” you said, your voice cracking, but he ignored you.

The panic surged like a tidal wave, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. You tried to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong. His hand moved to your waist, and fear turned your legs to jelly.

“HEY!”

The shout came from behind you, and the man froze. You turned your head just enough to see Topper running toward you, his face a mix of shock and fury.

“Get your hands off her!” Topper bellowed, closing the distance in seconds.

The man released you abruptly, his grip leaving your arm throbbing. You stumbled backward, nearly falling before Topper caught you.

“Stay here,” Topper said, his voice tight with anger as he turned and bolted back toward the fire.

Moments later, Rafe appeared, his eyes scanning the scene. When they landed on you, his expression changed. The anger in his face turned cold, deadly.

“Who?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn’t have to say anything. Rafe’s gaze shifted to the man, who was already trying to slink back into the crowd. Without another word, Rafe stormed toward him, his entire body radiating fury.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rafe growled, shoving the man hard.

The stranger stumbled, muttering something incoherent before straightening up. “It’s not a big deal, man,” he slurred. “She’s just being a prude.”

The words barely left his mouth before Rafe swung. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, the force sending him to the ground.

“Rafe, stop!” you screamed, your voice breaking, but he didn’t hear you.

Rafe was on top of him, fists flying in a blur of rage. Each punch landed with a sickening crack, blood splattering against the sand.

“She said no!” Rafe roared, his voice shaking with fury.

It took both Topper and Kelce to pull him off. Even then, Rafe fought against their grip, his chest heaving and his knuckles coated in blood.

The man groaned, clutching his face as he lay motionless in the sand.

“Let’s get out of here,” Topper muttered, pulling Rafe back as Kelce threw an arm around your shoulders protectively.

The four of you left the bonfire behind, the chaos fading as you walked toward the quieter part of the beach.

Rafe finally turned to you, his expression softening as he saw the tears in your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, but the truth was written all over your face. Your hands were still shaking, your arm throbbing where the man had grabbed you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I did. He hurt you. He scared you.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you reached for his hand, wincing at the sight of his split knuckles. “You’re hurt,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away as you dabbed at the blood with a tissue.

“Let’s go.” He intertwines his hand with yours and leads you to your car.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The walk back to your car was silent, tension weaving itself between you and Rafe. Topper and Kelce had disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving just the two of you under the soft glow of the moon. The waves crashed gently in the background, but the sound did little to calm your nerves.

Rafe had barely spoken since leaving the bonfire, his knuckles still bloodied from the fight. Every few steps, you stole a glance at him, the hard line of his jaw and the storm brewing behind his blue eyes making your stomach twist.

You reached your car and hesitated, fumbling with your keys. “Rafe, let me drive you home,” you offered softly.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘not yet’?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” he said firmly, his voice low but resolute.

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Nodding, you unlocked the car, and the two of you climbed in. The silence followed you the whole drive to your house, broken only by the occasional deep breath Rafe took to calm himself.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to your house was quiet, the tension between you and Rafe thick enough to cut with a knife. His hands, bloodied and bruised, rested on his lap as he stared out the window, his jaw clenched tight. You wanted to say something, but the words caught in your throat every time you opened your mouth.

When you finally reached your place, you parked the car and turned to him. “Come inside,” you said softly.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking to you before nodding. “Okay.”

The house was dark and still, the only sound the faint creak of the floorboards as you led him to the living room. You flicked on a small lamp, casting a warm glow over the room, and gestured for him to sit on the couch.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but you gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks.

“Sit,” you repeated, your tone leaving no room for argument.

With a reluctant sigh, Rafe sat down, leaning back against the cushions as you disappeared into the bathroom. When you returned with the first aid kit, his eyes softened just a little, the hard edges of his expression giving way to something gentler.

You knelt in front of him, taking his hand carefully in yours. His knuckles were split and raw, and blood smeared across his skin like war paint. “This is going to sting,” you warned, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic against the wounds.

Rafe flinched slightly but said nothing, his eyes fixed on you as you worked. The silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why do you always do this?” you asked quietly, breaking the stillness.

“Do what?”

“Fight. Lose your temper. Get yourself hurt.” Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the emotions you were trying to keep in check.

Rafe exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. “Because I have to,” he said finally, his voice low.

“You don’t have to,” you argued, meeting his gaze. “You choose to. But why?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed, his eyes softening as they locked with yours.

“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not completely fucked up.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening as you tried to process them. “Rafe…”

“You’re the only good thing in my life,” he continued, his voice raw. “And I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you. Not ever.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something in you. For years, you’d seen glimpses of the real Rafe—the one who hid behind bravado and anger—but hearing him lay it all out like this was overwhelming.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “Just let me…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but you didn’t need him to. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest as the kiss deepened.

The air between you crackled with a tension that had been building for years, a mix of desire, anger, and unspoken emotions. Rafe’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves buzzing under your skin.

Rafe’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile before he kissed you again, his hands tightening around you as he guided you onto the couch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled together in the soft glow of the lamplight, the unspoken promise of something more lingering in the air.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[hoe4hotchner]

You left me behind, and now I see you everywhere | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 11.6k  | CW: MDNI, 18+, emotional distress, heartbreak, angst, unresolved feelings, grief, heated argument, anger, smut, piv, wrap it before you tap it, it's office sex, heated kiss, dirty talk, kind of rough sex, general case talk, mention of mr. Scratch (if that's even a warning, maybe some of y'all have trauma ;))

Summary:  After years apart, following Hotch’s departure into witness protection and his decision to run for Congress, you're forced to confront unresolved feelings when you meet again. Tension builds as you navigate your emotional fallout, leading to a passionate confrontation and a second chance at love.

A/N: Worldwide by Big time rush started playing from my playlist as I reached the last scene to edit…. I had to stop myself from crying cause that song fits so well for some reason.

Peter Lewis was dead. Mr. Scratch was finally gone. With him out of the picture, Aaron could come back. That had been your one glimmer of hope through all the sleepless nights and endless waiting — knowing that once Lewis was no longer a threat, the man you loved would return. No more running, no more hiding. Hotch and Jack would finally be safe.

You clung to that thought like a lifeline, repeating it to yourself over and over again: He can come back now. He’ll come back to me. He'll come home.

The rumors had reached your ears days before Rossi called the meeting. Hotch was out of witness protection. Finally free to do what he wanted, to reach out again. Your heart soared at the news, desperate for it to be true. You had tried to keep your emotions in check, to remind yourself that things weren’t that simple, that there were procedures he had to go through before he could come home. But still, the idea of him walking through those doors — or knocking on your door — returning to his place at the BAU, and — most importantly — returning to you, was the only thing that kept you from breaking completely during his absence. It was the only reason why you had been able to keep your composure.

Now, as you stood in the conference room, your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The relief of knowing Peter Lewis was gone should have been enough. It should have been enough.

They'll be safe.

Rossi took his place at the front, his demeanor was serious, a subtle weight to his usually warm expression that you'd come to love over the years. You could see the effort it took for him to meet your eyes, his gaze softening as though he knew the words that would follow would shatter you. Rossi had become a rock to you over the past year, always there to have a heartfelt chat about your feelings, how you were doing, and the progress you'd made trying to move on. But in reality, you hadn't.

“I’ve spoken to Aaron,” Rossi said, his voice calm but laced with gravity. “He and Jack are safe. They’ve left witness protection.”

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and joy rushing through you. He’s safe. After everything, he was safe. That meant he would come back. He had to.

But then Rossi continued, his eyes flicking over the team, hesitant in a way that made your stomach twist. “Hotch won't be returning to the BAU.”

The world around you froze. His words echoed in your ears, but your mind rejected them, refusing to accept the truth they carried. He’s not coming back? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t make sense of it.

"What do you mean he’s not coming back?"

The tears welled up before you could stop them. Your throat tightened, and you felt your heart shatter inside your chest. He wasn’t coming back. The man you loved — the man you had held onto, even when he left you behind — was choosing not to return, was choosing to stay away. The hope you had so carefully nurtured and held onto was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a cold, gnawing sense of abandonment. You felt the pit in your stomach, and you couldn't tell if you were going to throw up at the revelation.

It felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared blankly ahead, your body betraying you as the sobs threatened to spill out. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. How could he?

You had waited. You had been patient. You had loved him through all of it — through the secrecy in the beginning, through the ups and the downs, and now through the distance. You had held onto the belief that once the threat was over, he would come back to you. That you two could be whole again. That your soul finally would be reunited with its missing piece. But now, it seemed like everything you had hoped for, everything you had believed in, was gone.

Your hands shook as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, but they just kept coming. He’s not coming back. The realization pierced through your chest, sharp and unforgiving. It was like reliving the moment he left, only this time, there was no promise of a future. No promise of us.

You felt like a fool. You had been his, entirely, even when he hadn’t been yours. You had given him everything — your love, your trust, your loyalty. And now? Now he had left you with nothing but the weight of that betrayal.

Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The room around you faded into the background as your world crumbled at Rossi’s words.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t coming back. Not to the team. Not to you.

The silence in the room after Rossi’s announcement was deafening. You stood there, tears streaming down your face, completely oblivious to the concerned glances being exchanged around you. The tension in your chest was unbearable, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Emily was the first to notice, her brow furrowing as she took a step toward you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head with compassion. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were stuck in your throat, buried under the crushing weight of your emotions. You shook your head, your lips trembling as you tried — and failed — to stop the tears. Truth be told, they weren't surprised by your reaction.

“Hey, come here,” JJ said gently, moving closer, her hand hovering just above your shoulder, wanting to pull you in for a hug. Her touch was warm and comforting, but it felt like too much. The kindness, the sympathy — it overwhelmed you, only reminded you of how deeply you’d been hurt.

You pulled away, a sudden, jerky movement that made JJ’s hand drop back to her side. The rejection was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you wanted was to be left alone, to scream and cry.

“I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though the crack in your voice betrayed you. You turned away from them, wiping furiously at your face, even though the tears wouldn’t stop.

I can’t break down here. Not in front of them.

Morgan stepped forward, his expression softening as he watched you struggle. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. We know how much he meant to you. We’re here for you,” he said, his voice low, it was sincere, but you weren't ready for that, weren't ready to admit that this was your new reality.

But that was the problem. They were all there, and you were unraveling in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. You didn’t want their comfort. You didn’t want their pity. What you wanted was Aaron. You wanted answers. You wanted an explanation for why he had chosen to leave you behind, why he wasn’t coming back. For why he never called.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought. You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the weight of their eyes on you, all of them waiting, ready to offer support. But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

They weren't him.

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time. “I just—” Your voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying on your tongue. “I need to go.”

Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with understanding, but there was nothing he could say that would make this easier, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make you hate him. “Take the day if you need to,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that usually offered comfort, though it barely registered through the numbness settling into your bones.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You nodded stiffly, walking into the bullpen to grab your things. Your hands shook, desperate to escape before you completely fell apart in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Emily called out, stepping out of the conference room, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face them — not now, maybe not ever. You pushed through the door, your footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as you fled the room, the concerned voices of your teammates fading behind you.

Your heart raced as you moved down the familiar corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. The walls closed in, the pressure mounting in your chest until it became unbearable. By the time you reached the front doors, you could barely see through the tears, your vision blurred, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. Grey clouds loomed over your head, threatening to spill the same tears that you so desperately tried to hold back.

You stopped as you reached the end of the parking lot, finally letting the sobs you had been holding back tear through you, the grief, the betrayal, all of it crashing over you in waves.

He’s not coming back.

The words repeated in your mind, over and over again, each time cutting deeper than the last.

You had never felt so abandoned, so completely lost. And the worst part was, you had no idea what to do next, no idea who to turn to. Because the only person you truly wanted to turn to was gone from your life.

The walk back to your apartment felt like a blur, the city passing by in a haze of noise and light. You barely registered the world around you — your mind was somewhere else entirely, trapped in the ache of Rossi’s words and the sharp sting of Hotch’s decision. He wasn’t coming back. The words haunted you.

That thought pulsed through your veins, making each step feel heavier than the last. By the time you reached your door, your hands were still trembling as you fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside and just breathe.

But the second you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

You paused just inside the doorway, your body instinctively tensing as a strange feeling washed over you. The air felt… different. Still. You took a cautious step forward, your eyes scanning the familiar space, searching for something — anything — that looked out of the ordinary, that might explain the knot forming in your stomach.

Then you saw it.

Sitting neatly on the dining table, in plain view, were your spare keys. Next to them was an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in a handwriting only a left-handed person could've written. You recognized it immediately.

Aaron’s.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in time. Fear and confusion mixed with a sick sense of dread as you stared at the letter, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. How did he get in?

And how had he gotten out? The door had after all been locked.

Your heart pounded from your heart to your ears as you walked toward the table, the floor feeling unsteady beneath your feet. You hesitated for a long moment before picking up the envelope, the paper felt cold and rough between your fingers. The sight of his handwriting was almost too much to bear.

He had been here.

With shaking hands, you slid your finger through the envelope, carefully opening it and removing the letter as if it was the most delicate thing you had ever seen. Your eyes scanned the words, every stroke of the pen, every curve and twist was a painful reminder of the man who had once been yours.

The letter read:

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙸 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝙰𝚄. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 — 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 — 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎.

𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. ����𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

— 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗

The letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor as your legs gave out beneath you. The sobs came violently, tearing through you as you collapsed onto the floor of your living room.

This was it. This was the moment where everything you had been holding inside — every ounce of grief, every bit of hope that had clung to your heart over the past year — finally broke free. The pain you had shoved down for so long, the hurt you had tried so hard to hide, came rushing out all at once, too powerful to contain.

You pressed your hands to your face, the tears spilling uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. He had been here. He had come back to your space, to your life, only to leave you with words that felt like daggers in your heart.

He could've waited for you to come home.

He had made his choice. He was leaving you behind. And he had done it with the same precision he used for everything — careful, calculated and always thinking ahead. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Jack. You would've done the same if you had been in his shoes. But you could hate the way he had left you, hate him for making you feel discarded, like something in his life that could be put away, neatly, and forgotten about without a second thought.

You curled into yourself on the floor, hugging your legs, your body trembling as wave after wave of sorrow washed over you. This wasn’t just about him leaving the BAU. This was about him leaving you. About him cutting you out of his life completely, like you had never mattered at all.

The sobs racked through you, they were raw and unrelenting, as you lay there on the cold floor of your apartment, clutching at the emptiness inside you. You had been holding onto him for so long, for too long, and now he was gone — really gone. And you were left with nothing more than the bitter taste in your mouth and the sound of your own shattered heart echoing in the silence.

Six years had passed since Hotch had walked out of your life.

In that time, you had grown, changed — hardened, perhaps. You’d thrown yourself into your work, climbing the ranks within the BAU. The weight of your experience now rested comfortably on your shoulders. You were no longer the agent who had cried in Rossi’s office all those late nights, the agent who had stood frozen in the conference room all those years ago, devastated by the news of Hotch’s permanent departure.

Now, you were Emily's right hand, trusted to run the team when needed, especially when bureaucracy. Rossi had decided to stop back a bit, taking on fewer cases and focusing more on his writing as he attempted weaning himself away from the team, hoping that this time he truly would be able to retire.

Leading the team had come naturally to you, though some days, when the office was quiet and your mind wandered, you still felt the ache of his absence.

You sighed softly, rubbing the back of your neck as you closed your office door behind you. It was time for the next briefing, and you’d promised Emily you’d call everyone in. The case was urgent — a missing child, time was not on your side — but as you walked toward the conference room, your attention was pulled to the large TV mounted on the wall in the bullpen.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years rang out through the room, smooth and familiar, the same low timbre that had once soothed your heart. The voice that still echoed in your dreams on nights when sleep was particularly elusive.

Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes snapping to the television screen, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as his face filled the screen. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety or love perhaps, that raced through your veins, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling something. Something you hadn't felt in years.

There he was, standing at a podium, flanked by the American flag, a calm and authoritative presence as he spoke to a crowd. The caption running along the bottom read: Former FBI unit chief Aaron Hotchner Announces Candidacy for a spot in Congress.

Your breath hitched. He looked older. The lines on his face were more defined, his hair tinged with a little more gray, his face was shaven, somethings never change you thought — though you could sense the salt and pepper streaks that had started appearing within it. The years had marked him, but there was still an undeniable strength in his presence. A steady, unshakable resolve that had always been a part of who he was.

And yet, even now, after all this time, he still looked as good as the day you last saw him. Perhaps even more so, with that air of confidence that seemed to come so naturally to him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he commanded a room — it was all still there, just as you remembered — even through a TV screen.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“…It is with great honor that I announce my candidacy for Congress,” Hotch’s voice continued, steady and firm. “My years of service in the FBI have prepared me to take on the challenges we face as a nation, and I believe it’s time to bring the values of justice and integrity to the forefront of our government. I believe it's time for a change.”

The camera zoomed in on his face, his expression was stoic yet passionate, every word calculated and purposeful. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories — late nights in the office, quiet moments where you’d lean on each other after a case, the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you, away from the chaos, the comfort of his hugs, the soft and tender feeling of his lips — everything came back.

But those memories were ghosts now. Echoes of a time you had buried deep, right along with the pain of losing him.

A lump formed in your throat as you stood there, rooted in place, watching a man who had once been everything to you stand on that stage, now completely out of reach — yet so close by. He wasn’t the same man you knew all those years ago, you were sure of that. He wasn’t your Hotch anymore. He was something else entirely — a public figure, a leader stepping into the political arena, ready to take on a whole new world — perhaps he never really was yours to begin with.

Your fingers tightened around the folder in your hands, your knuckles turning white with sheer force, the weight of it grounding you as you forced yourself to breathe. You didn’t know what to feel. Shock, maybe. Sadness. Perhaps even a bit of pride, seeing him like this, doing something for the greater good. But mostly, there was a gnawing ache deep in your chest, a familiar one, reminding you of what could have been.

You blinked rapidly, tearing your gaze away from the screen as the room started to blur around you. Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. Not here. Not now.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, walking past you, his eyes flicking to the TV screen before landing back on you, concern etched on his face. He didn't know much about your relationship with Hotch, only the rumors that had flown between the desks in the bullpen as you'd drowned yourself in work trying to suffocate the pain.

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice tight. “I’ll be right there. Just… finishing something up.”

Luke gave you a nod, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he headed toward the conference room, leaving you standing there, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the space around you.

You turned back to the screen, just in time to catch the last shot of Hotch stepping down from the podium, the applause from the crowd ringing out as the camera panned away.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he had ever thought about you during these last six years. If he had thought of calling you. If, somewhere in that busy mind of his, you had crossed his thoughts as he prepared to step into this new chapter of his life.

But it didn’t matter now. He had made his choice, and so had you.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and turned away from the screen, pushing down the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. There was a case to solve. There always was. And that was the only thing that mattered now.

“Alright, team,” you called out, walking towards the conference room, your voice steady once again. “Let’s get to work.”

You walked into the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effects of seeing Hotch on the TV. The rest of the team was already seated as you made it inside, files in hand, waiting for you to start the briefing. Emily glanced at you, her eyes narrowing slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press. She trusted you to compartmentalize when it mattered.

You inhaled deeply and projected the case details on the large screen at the front of the room. The image of a young boy's smiling face filled the space, the innocence in his eyes starkly contrasted by the grim reality of his disappearance and the details listed in the case files of similar incidents in the area.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Our missing person is Ethan Marshall, age 7. He was last seen outside of his school two days ago in a quiet suburb of Portland, Oregon. His parents reported him missing when he didn’t come home after his play date that same day with his best friend from class. There’s been no contact from a potential abductor. No ransom demands. The local authorities are stuck, and they’ve requested our help.”

JJ immediately sat forward, flipping through the case file. “Two days with no leads and no communication? We’re looking at someone who doesn’t need the attention. This could be personal, or we’re dealing with someone who’s done this before and knows what they're doing.”

Tara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Ethan’s photo. “The fact that there’s been no contact suggests they’re not after money. This might be about control, power, or even something darker, like revenge or even fantasy or sexually-driven motives.” You closed your eyes for a brief moment at the thought of what the unsub might put the young boy through. You had to find him, quickly.

You clicked through to the next slide — images of Ethan’s parents, Tim and Julia Marshall. “Ethan’s parents are a stable middle-class family with no criminal records. His mother works as a nurse, and his father is a local contractor. No major incidents or enemies we or they know of. However, Tim Marshall's company was sued about a year ago over a construction job that went south. It’s possible there could be a grudge tied to that.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But to target a child? It’s a big escalation. If this is about the father’s job, we’d need to look into that lawsuit, but we also need to consider the possibility that the kid was the primary target from the start.”

Emily chimed in, her eyes sharp with focus. “Agreed. We should explore all angles — someone with a grudge against the family, a potential predator, or maybe even someone close to the family. It’s often someone they know.”

Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through his notes, spoke up. “The average age for a child abductor is in their mid-thirties to mid-forties, typically male, though that’s not always the case. Most of them have a history of deviant behavior or crimes against minors. If this is someone who’s taken Ethan to satisfy a fantasy, we might be looking at someone who has done this several times before and is getting better at hiding their tracks.”

Your gaze swept over the team, the weight of the case settling in the room. “We’ve got a few potential leads we need to investigate. JJ, I want you to work on the media angle — see if you can coordinate with local news to get a controlled message out, prepare the Marshalls for a conference. Luke, you and Tara will dig deeper into Tim Marshall’s lawsuit. See if there’s anything there we can work with. Spencer, I want you to start profiling any possible suspects within a fifty-mile radius who fit the age and behavioral profile of past offenders.”

The team nodded, already mentally gearing up for the work ahead. You could see the gears turning in their minds as they absorbed the information and pieced together possible profiles of the unsub.

Finally, you cleared your throat, pushing away the personal turmoil still brewing inside you. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a missing boy out there, and time is against us. We’ll get more information as we land.”

You snapped the case file shut and looked up at your team, your voice firm. “Wheels up in 30.”

The team dispersed quickly, heading off to gather their gear and finalize last-minute preparations. You lingered behind for a moment, watching the case photos flicker on the screen. Your heart was still heavy from earlier, but you had a job to do. No distractions. No room for the past.

Focus, keep moving, you told yourself, even though the image of Hotch’s face still lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't afford to spare him another thought.

The case had been wrapped up with surprising speed, and the flight back to Quantico was a welcome relief. You settled into your seat, the hum of the plane a calming reminder of the good you and the team had done today. You felt the exhaustion seep into your bones as the plane roared into the sky. The hum of the engines and the rhythmic sound of the wings provided a backdrop, but you couldn't shake the tumult of emotions swirling within you.

As you glanced around the cabin, you noticed that everyone else was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the long days evident on their faces. Emily’s head rested against JJ’s shoulder, and Spencer was curled up in his seat with a book laid open in his lap, the pages fluttering slightly with the plane’s movement. Luke, too, was snoring softly on the couch, a slight smile on his lips as he pulled the blanket tighter around him. They all looked so peaceful.

But your mind was far from peaceful.

You leaned back in your seat, your thoughts racing back to Hotch’s announcement. You had tried to compartmentalize your feelings during the case, focusing solely on finding Ethan. But now, with the rush of adrenaline faded and the quiet of the plane surrounding you, the weight of it all crashed back in.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, pulling you from your thoughts. Rossi had moved to sit across from you, concern etched into his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

Before you could filter your thoughts, the words slipped out. “Did you know?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Yes, he called me last week to let me know.”

Your heart raced at the revelation. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your words came out as a hushed hiss. Rossi knew you hadn't meant it like that, but your frustration of how everything had panned out had never really gone away. He understood why you were feeling like you did.

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took in your features. “I didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. I thought you’d hear about it when he officially announced it. I thought maybe he'd even reach out himself” Rossi knew Hotch wouldn't reach out to you, even if his life depended on it. He was a proud man, and even if he had been willing to admit his wrongs, he was too scared to face you and realize just how big of a mistake this truly had been.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But why, Rossi? Why would he do this? He had a life with us — his life in the BAU, with Jack, with me. And now he’s just… gone.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he replied softly. “But running for Congress might be a way for him to contribute on a larger scale. He wants to help people, to make a difference, just like he did with us. This was a chance for him to step into a role where he could have an even bigger impact than what he had in the bureau. Who knows, maybe we'll see him around someday.”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “But he didn’t even talk to me about it. It’s like he just vanished. I thought we had something, and then he just left. I felt so abandoned.”

Rossi’s expression turned serious. “You know how Hotch is. He’s always been someone who puts others before himself, even at the cost of his own happiness. I think he truly believes this is what’s best for Jack and for himself. It doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you. In fact, I know he cared deeply about you. It just means he’s trying to figure things out in his own way.”

“But what about me?” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I was left behind, and now I’m still here, trying to navigate everything without him.”

Rossi said your name, leaning forward, his eyes softening. It wasn't as much a reprimand, as it was him trying to stop your spiraling thoughts. You both knew it did you no good. Especially not if the rumors were true and Emily was in line for the open position of Section Chief. Both of you knew what that would mean for you. “He made a choice, yes, but it doesn’t erase what you two had. If anything, it highlights how much he valued that relationship. He wouldn’t have just walked away without thinking it through, even if it seems that way.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your footing amidst the emotional turmoil. “I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. It feels so final, so absolute. I thought I was ready to move on, but seeing him on TV...”

Rossi reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be confused. But remember, you’re still part of this team, and we’re here for you, no matter what. You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

You nodded slowly, his words providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos in your heart. “Thanks, Rossi. I appreciate it. I just wish things were different.”

He gave you an understanding smile. “So do I. But whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. And if you need to talk about Hotch, I’m here to listen. Just know that he still cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.” You knew he was right.

As you both fell into a comfortable silence, you felt a little weight lift from your chest. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but you had the support of your team. And that was a start.

Weeks drifted by like the clouds hanging in the sky, each day seemingly blending into the next. Hotch’s face became a fixture on the television, the cadence of his voice echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. News reports came almost daily, showcasing him speaking passionately about his vision for change, the values he held dear, and the policies he aimed to implement if elected. The topics ranged from community safety to education reform, and while many praised his ideals, you found yourself seething each time his image flickered across the screen.

He still hadn't contacted you yet.

At first, you tried to engage with the reports, focusing on the substance of his speeches, realizing that despite everything he's policies aligned with your values too, but as each new broadcast emerged, anger simmered beneath the surface. It was infuriating to watch the man you loved stand there, poised and confident — visiting schools, nursery homes, community centers, and everything in between — while you were left with nothing but fragments of the life you had once envisioned together. He seemed so distant, a stranger now, embodying everything you once admired but now felt betrayed by.

Each time you heard his voice, the way he articulated his beliefs with the conviction that had once made your heart race, you locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day, drowning out the world with your frustration and sorrow. Your colleagues exchanged worried glances as you retreated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. They didn’t know the depth of your pain, the feeling of abandonment that clawed at your insides. And you weren't ready for them to know.

On one particularly long evening, the office was silent, the usual buzz of activity having died down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across your workspace. You sat alone at your desk, the glow of your computer screen the only light illuminating the room. Your heart felt heavy, the emotional burden weighing on you like a thick blanket.

As the clock ticked away, you absentmindedly pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photos. You found it — the last picture you had taken with Hotch and Jack. You hadn't meant to look for it, but something within you had drawn your mind to that particular folder with pictures you never quite had the strength to transfer out of your phone. In the picture, the three of you stood in the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, laughter frozen in time. Hotch’s arm was around you, a protective and loving gesture, while Jack beamed in front of you, holding his soccer ball in his hands, all youthful energy and innocence.

You stared at the image, the way Hotch’s eyes crinkled at the edges with genuine joy, contrasting sharply with the turmoil roiling in your chest. A single tear slid down your cheek, carving a path through the haze of anger and hurt.

“Jack,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the office. He must be close to 18 now. The thought struck you like a lightning bolt. Time had slipped by so swiftly, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of young man he had become. Had Hotch been there for him? Had he taken the time to show his son what love was? Did they share the same laughter you once did, or had the weight of their decisions overshadowed those moments?

You closed your eyes, allowing your mind to drift back to memories of Jack — the way his laughter filled the room, his playful spirit that lit up the darkest days. The action figures scattered all over your apartment. You remembered the way he would come running into your arms when you stayed over for the weekend, his small frame clinging to you like you were the safest place in the world. You had cherished those moments, and now they felt like distant echoes, fading into the background of your life.

The thought of him growing up without you, of Hotch and Jack creating a new life that you weren’t a part of, twisted in your gut. The anger that had bubbled beneath the surface surged forth again, but this time, it mingled with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. You felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives, watching from afar as they moved on, while you were trapped in a limbo of unresolved feelings.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the tear from your cheek and opened your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this. You couldn’t let him keep affecting you from a distance, even if it meant facing the truth of your feelings. You needed to regain control, to reclaim your narrative, whatever that might look like.

As you set the phone down, determination coursed through you. You would find a way to confront the anger and pain, to redefine your path without him. But the journey would be a challenge — one you weren’t entirely ready to take, yet knew you had to face.

With a heavy sigh, you stood, ready to leave the remnants of that day behind. You took one last look at the photo on your phone, whispering softly, “I hope you’re happy, Hotch. I really do.”

And with that, you stepped out of the office, leaving for the night, leaving the memories behind, but carrying them with you as you prepared for whatever came next.

A couple of days passed since that late night in your office, the echo of memories lingering like a haunting refrain. You had spent the time focusing on work, throwing yourself into cases, and helping your team. It was a temporary distraction, but every time you caught sight of a news segment featuring Hotch, you felt that familiar ache in your chest. Each broadcast, showcasing his polished demeanor and political aspirations, only stoked the embers of frustration and longing buried deep within you.

Then, one afternoon, as you sat at your desk, your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. Your heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as you opened the text:

“Hey! It’s Jack..... I don't know if you remember me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I’d love to see you. We're back in Virginia again. I miss you and wanted to ask if you’d meet with me. Sorry if this is weird, but I hope you’re okay.”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was Jack. After all these years, he was reaching out. The memories of his laughter and bright smile flooded back, bringing with them a rush of warmth and bittersweet nostalgia. Without a second thought, you quickly typed out your response.

“Hi, Jack! It’s great to hear from you. I’d love to meet. How about we catch up at the café near the Academy?”

You hit send and felt a wave of nervous excitement wash over you, followed closely by a rush of trepidation. What would he look like? Would he be the same boy you remembered, or had he transformed into someone else entirely different? The thought churned in your stomach as you anxiously awaited his reply.

The day of the meeting arrived, and as you approached the café, your heart raced with anticipation. The small establishment was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. You stepped inside, scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.

Jack sat at a table in the corner, his back to you, and you felt a jolt of recognition. He had grown into a young man, tall and confident, with his hair still matching Haley's, his eyes brighter than ever. But it was the way he carried himself that struck you most — he exuded a maturity that seemed to echo Hotch’s stoic demeanor, yet there was a warmth about him that was uniquely his own. Jack was much more like his mother than he would ever realize.

As he turned to look at you, a broad smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled at the sight. He stood, and for a moment, it felt like time had collapsed, erasing the years that had separated you. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him, and he embraced you tightly, a mix of nostalgia and warmth flooding over you both.

“Jack,” you whispered, stepping back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you turn eighteen,” he replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. You were surprised by how deep his voice had gotten, still recalling the sweet sounds of the 11-year-old boy who had gone into witness protection.

You both settled into your seats, and the initial rush of excitement settled into a comfortable rhythm as you sipped your coffees. “How have you been?” you asked, genuine curiosity etched in your voice.

Jack hesitated, his expression growing serious. “It’s been tough since… since everything that happened. After we left witness protection, it was just Dad and me. We moved a lot at first but eventually settled down in Chicago. Dad tried his best, but it wasn’t easy.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I can only imagine. How is he doing?”

Jack shrugged, glancing down at his cup. “He’s okay, I guess." He mumbled. "He doesn’t talk about you much, I don't think he can bring himself to let the memories resurface. But I can tell he misses you a lot. He still has all the pictures of us together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at them when he thinks I’m not paying attention.” His voice was thick with emotion, and you felt your heartache further.

Had Hotch been as miserable as you?

“I missed you both too,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I don't know if I can bring myself to keep holding on to the past. Not as long as Hotch hasn’t reached out to me, I’m probably not going to contact him. At least not for my own well-being.” You sighed, knowing it was the right decision, but still beating yourself up for listening to your sensibility.

Jack’s gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I just wanted to see you after all this time. You were like a mother to me after Mom…” His voice trailed off, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. You wondered if Hotch had ever talked about Haley, talked about what had happened to his mother, if Jack had ever gotten any answers?

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I could have been there for you both. I loved you both so much.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And that’s why I wanted to meet. I just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “I needed to know if you were okay. It’s been a long time, and you were always there for me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mixture of sorrow and relief washing over you. “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You were such a bright light in my life, Jack. It’s been hard without you both.”

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with shared memories and the weight of unspoken emotions. You listened as Jack talked about his life since Hotch had stepped into the world of politics — his own struggles, school, feeling like his friends didn't know the real him, the challenges of growing up without a mother, and the bond he still cherished with his father. It felt like they never left.

“I think Dad thought he was protecting me by not talking about you. But I needed to know about you, how you were doing. I needed to know you were okay.” He confessed, his eyes earnest. “He was always so focused on keeping me safe that he didn’t realize how much I missed you. How much he missed you.”

The warmth of Jack’s words wrapped around you, reassuring you that your bond hadn’t faded, even in the years apart. You shared stories, laughing softly at the memories of days long gone. The sun filtered through the café windows, casting a golden glow over the two of you, illuminating the path of healing you both needed.

As the café buzzed around you, it felt like a sanctuary, a safe space where the past and present intertwined, reminding you of the love that had once filled your life. This was a step forward, a chance to heal the wounds that had lingered for too long.

In that moment, sitting across from Jack, you realized that while the scars of the past might never fully fade, the possibility of rebuilding a future was within reach. Maybe not with Hotch, but potentially regain contact and a relationship with Jack.

“Let’s not let this much time pass before we see each other again,” you suggested, your heart lifting at the idea of keeping this connection alive.

“Definitely. You can count on it,” Jack promised, and as you both exchanged a smile, the weight of your shared history felt a little lighter, the hope for what was to come a little brighter.

The sun streamed through the windows of your office, casting a gentle glow on the stacks of case files and the photographs of the BAU team adorning your walls. You leaned back in your chair, still buzzing from your meeting with Jack, your heart lighter after the emotional reunion. The warmth of yesterday's trip to the café lingered in your mind, a comfort amidst the chaotic world of profiling and criminal behavior.

Just as you began to focus on the case at hand, there was a soft knock on your door. You looked up to see Emily stepping in, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey,” she said, her tone catching your attention. “I just got off the phone with the Director. He wants the BAU to assist with a case involving a politician in Congress.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Congress, knowing potentially what that could mean, and you held your breath, bracing for the inevitable connection. “Do they have any details yet?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching yours. “Not much. It seems there’s been some suspicious activity surrounding him, but the Director wanted us to prioritize this. I thought I should let you know, especially given the possibility of running into Hotch.”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of his name, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “So, we’re not profiling Hotch, then?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady with a joke, masking the swirl of emotions rising within you.

“No, he’s not involved at all with this case actually,” Emily clarified, crossing her arms. “But with him being in the spotlight, there’s a chance we might see him around, especially if the investigation takes us to other parts of D.C. or if he’s involved in any press events while we're at Congress.”

You nodded, absorbing the information. “Right. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility.” Your heart raced at the thought, the image of him on the television still fresh in your mind. The last few weeks of seeing him on the news had stirred up a mix of longing and unresolved feelings, and now the idea of encountering him face-to-face was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Are you okay with this?” Emily asked, her gaze softening with concern. “I know seeing him might bring up some stuff.”

You took a deep breath, weighing your emotions. “I’ll be fine. I have to be. We have a job to do, and I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.” You tried to sound confident, but uncertainty crept in.

Emily smiled, a mix of support and understanding shining in her eyes. “I know you’re strong. Just remember, we’re in this together. And if it gets overwhelming, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, Em. I appreciate that.” You felt a swell of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Let’s get the team together and see what we can dig up on this case.”

Emily nodded, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’ll gather everyone for a briefing. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

As she left your office, you couldn’t shake the feeling of impending change in the air. The thought of the case intertwined with the possibility of seeing Hotch again sent your mind racing. There was a part of you that yearned to see him, to hear his voice again, but another part was afraid of what it might mean for the rehabilitation of your heart shattered.

After a few moments, you collected yourself and headed to the conference room, determined to focus on the task ahead. You were a profiler, after all, and you wouldn’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment. But as you stepped into the room and looked at your team, the looming presence of Hotch hung over you like a shadow.

The bustling atmosphere of Congress was overwhelming, the echo of voices mingling with the rustle of papers and the faint sounds of distant conversations, as crowds of people moved past you every single second. Somehow you hadn't thought the building would be this busy.

You moved through the maze of hallways, the weight of the case hanging over you like a heavy cloud. After an intense briefing with the team and several hours of sifting through documents, you decided a quick coffee break was necessary. It was a small reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts before diving back into the investigation.

As you stepped into the crowded café, the rich aroma of coffee filled your senses, providing a brief comfort. As you waited for your order you glanced around, noting the throngs of aides and politicians, some deep in conversation, others lost in their phones. After what felt like an eternity, you finally received your drink, you ordered a cappuccino, absently stirring the foam as you made your way back toward the senator’s office.

Navigating the marble corridors was not easy, you focused, trying to remember the way you had come from. The noise of the café faded behind you as you moved further away, and the hum of energy around you began to fade as you thought about the case details you had just discussed with your team. But as you rounded a corner, lost in thought, everything changed in an instant.

There, just a few feet away, stood Aaron Hotchner. Your Aaron.

Time seemed to freeze. The world around you faded into a blur, and all you could see was him. He looked older nothing like he had looked on the TV, more refined, better even, yet he still carried that familiar intensity in his dark eyes. It was as if the years had melted away, and you were right back to those last moments before he disappeared from your life. Your heart raced, the mix of emotions overwhelming as you locked eyes with him.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved, caught in an electric silence that stretched between you. The familiar ache of longing hit you hard in the chest, twisting your stomach into knots. Memories rushed back — laughter, warmth, the comfort of his presence — but so did the pain of his absence and the betrayal you felt when he left.

In your shock, you didn’t realize your hand had loosened its grip on the coffee cup until it slipped from your fingers. The porcelain collided with the polished floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The hot liquid spilled out, soaking into the pristine marble and staining the floor with brown patches.

“Oh God,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You stepped back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Hotch said your name, his voice low and steady, yet laced with an emotion that mirrored your own shock. He took a cautious step toward you, as if afraid you might disappear again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” you managed, your voice trembling as you fought to regain your composure. But the words felt inadequate, too mundane for the weight of the moment. A wave of emotion crashed over you, and the dam holding back your feelings began to crumble. “Do you even realize what you put me through, Aaron? Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive? How many times I replayed those last moments in my mind, wishing I could have changed things?”

Hotch’s expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for Jack!”

“Best for Jack?” you repeated incredulously, your voice rising with each word. “What about me? What about my feelings? You just left! You abandoned me without so much as a goodbye! I had to rebuild my life without you, and all you can say is you were trying to protect him. It doesn’t make any sense!”

He took a step forward, frustration mingling with sadness in his eyes. “I had no choice! I had to keep you both safe! Do you really think I wanted to leave you behind? You think it was easy for me? It wasn’t! I’ve thought about you every single day!”

The sincerity in his voice pierced through your anger, but you couldn’t let it go. “It’s too little, too late, Aaron! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after six years and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice!”

“I never stopped loving you!” he shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. The admission hung between you, heavy and charged, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his, fueled by a mix of anger and disbelief. “How can you say that? You left me! You made a choice, and you chose to protect your son over me. I had to learn to live with that — learn to live without you!”

“And it killed me! I had to protect my family, and in doing so, I destroyed my own happiness. But you have to know, you were always in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you!” His voice softened slightly, the intensity shifting to desperation. “I thought you’d move on, that you’d find someone better who could give you what you deserve.”

“Better?” you scoffed, your anger giving way to an ache in your chest. “You think I wanted anyone else? No one could ever compare to you, Aaron. I spent years waiting for you, hoping you’d come back, that we could fix this.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Then why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“Because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!” You shot back, tears of frustration burning your eyes. “I had to respect your choice, but I thought you’d at least have the decency to contact me after everything we went through together!”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger! I thought it was for the best!” His voice rose again, echoing through the hallway, but there was a desperate plea beneath his anger.

“Best for who, Aaron?” you demanded, your emotions spilling over. “You think running for Congress is going to fix everything? You think I want to see you on TV every day, talking about policies and values when all I want is to talk to you about us?”

Before you could finish your thought, he closed the gap between you in an instant, grasping your arms gently but firmly. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and then he kissed you. It was a collision of pent-up emotions, a heated, desperate kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. Your lips pressed against his, teeth grazing against teeth, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

You lost yourself in the kiss, a whirlwind of anger, longing, and the familiar warmth that had always existed between you. It felt like no time had passed at all, yet every moment you had spent apart surged back, filling the space with an urgency you hadn’t felt in years.

Without breaking the kiss, you found yourselves moving, bodies instinctively drawn toward his office down the hall, Hotch leading the way. The door stood ajar, but you barely registered it as you stumbled inside, Hotch pulling you in after him. He nudged the door shut with his foot, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silence as he pressed you against it.

You barely noticed the cluttered desk or the framed photographs lining the walls. All that mattered was the heat radiating from him, the way his hands cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. He kissed you again, deeper this time, a fierce claim that made your heart race.

With each touch, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating rush of being so close again. You could feel the weight of his desperation, the years of longing that had built up between you, igniting a fire within you that had never truly gone out.

Finally, as you both breathed heavily against each other, he stepped back slightly, just enough to turn the lock behind him. The finality of the action made your heart pound even harder, the implications of this moment crashing down around you.

Before you knew it, Hotch crashed his lips into yours once again.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered into your neck, as he moved his hand under your skirt, you could feel his smirk against your skin. He was kissing you again, his fingers sliding up your body until they reached your breasts. You arched back into him with a soft sigh of pleasure, your hips rolling against his growing erection. You could feel how much he wanted you and it made you even more desperate for him.

You broke away from the kiss, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck me,” you said your voice sounded rough, still thick with lust from the kiss. You could see the flicker of pleasure that danced across his face, the fire burning in his eyes when he heard your words.

He didn’t speak though, he just pushed you back against his desk and as your ass met the wooden edge he lifted you up onto it by your things. The movement made your skirt ride up further, you tried to pull it back down out of instinct, but Hotch stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist. You gasped when his hands moved to grab the edge of your panties as he ripped them off. That had always been his favorite thing to do. Nothing had changed.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he had two fingers buried deep inside your cunt. “Fuck,” you hissed against his lips. He added a third finger and you gasped, your nails clawing into his back as you braced yourself, pleasure radiating through your body. You were already close to coming, desperate from the lack of a man's touch, he’d only been fingering you for a few seconds, but it was a much-needed release that you hadn't realized you had needed. He was determined to make you cum, was going to make you cum in his office, on his desk. You truly hoped that his door was locked.

Hotch leaned in and kissed you again, sucking at your bottom lip and then moving down to your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you moaned in response. Your legs spread around him and he groaned as you rocked your hips against his hand, trying so desperately to chase your release.

“Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he muttered against your skin. "I need to feel that pussy again. My pussy." He growled.

You felt a shiver run through your body at his words. “Please,” you begged, “now.”

You didn’t know if you unbuttoned his pants or he did, but somehow they were already around his ankles and he was pushing into you. His cock pulsed as he bottomed out, clouding your vision with the pure bliss from finally feeling him again. You let out a breathless moan as he stretched you out. It had been way too long since you'd felt the touch of a man you thought. His touch. Your hands slid down his back trying to pull him closer in an attempt to push him deeper inside of you. He groaned as he started to thrust into you. You felt every ridge of his cock as he moved.

The rhythm was hard and fast, your skin slapping together in loud claps. Your pussy was dripping, slick with wetness, your muscles clenching around him with every thrust as if you were trying to lock him in place inside your heat. You cried out when he pushed you down flat on his desk, his arms wrapped around your body as he started fucking you with the raw essence of an animal. The pleasure ran through your head and you nearly came right there.

Hotch grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. “You’re going to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed, trying to move your hips under him. Your teeth gritted, eyes rolling back into your head as your breathing sped up, almost hyperventilating from the immense pleasure.

“You like being fucked on my desk, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He slammed into you and then stilled. You whined in frustration as he held still inside of you. “Tell me. Use your words!”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, hoping it would get him to start moving again. It worked like a charm and he quickly slammed into you once more before fucking you into oblivion again. Hotch hit your G-spot with every thrust, you could feel your orgasm building up inside, the knot tightening, dangerously close to snapping in half. You felt him swell inside of you, his cock pushing into you harder and faster than before, as his thighs started vibration, you knew he was close too.

He leaned down over you and kissed you as you came. He swallowed down your cries as his hips stuttered. His cock felt like it was going to split you in half, but it felt so good as it sent you into a new level of pleasure. He came hard, hot liquid filling you up, you clung to his shoulders and cried out again as he groaned into your mouth.

Hotch pulled away slowly, his breath ragged as he held you close for a moment longer. The heat of the moment lingered in the air, but as he took a step back, you felt the loss of his warmth immediately. He gently helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of his desk, his hands steadying you as you settled.

He moved to stand between your legs, the space filled with unspoken words and the weight of years apart. His eyes searched yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart flutter. Hotch cupped your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture, so simple yet so profound, stirred something deep within you. It felt as though he had never left, as if no time had passed at all since that fateful day in his office so many years ago where he had just been... gone.

He pressed tender kisses to your lips, each one a promise, a reassurance that this moment was real. You leaned into him, surrendering to the familiar comfort of his presence as you wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. You let the tears that had been building up finally spill over. They rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the heat that still pulsed between you.

“I… I met up with Jack,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. The moment hung heavy in the air. You could see the flicker of surprise in Hotch’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “He’s grown up so much. He’s… he's an adult now.”

Hotch’s expression softened, a mix of pride and sadness flickering across his features. “He’s always been a remarkable kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you two were able to reconnect.”

“I missed you both so much,” you confessed, the weight of your words crashing over you like a wave. The years of longing, the nights spent wondering about him and Jack, came rushing back. “It’s been so hard, Aaron. Watching you on TV, hearing you talk about your values and the future... all I wanted was to be a part of that future again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I didn’t know if I was worth it to you. I thought you’d moved on. Didn't want to disrupt your life.”

You shook your head, a mix of determination and vulnerability surging within you. “I never moved on. I just learned to live without you. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Hotch stepped closer again, his hands still cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Then let’s try again,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice melting the last remnants of doubt lingering in your heart. “Let’s see if we can make this work, for us and for Jack.”

You swallowed hard, hope igniting within you like a flame. “I want that,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your tears. “I really want that.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours once more, the kiss gentle but filled with an undercurrent of promise. It was a reaffirmation of everything you both had lost and everything you hoped to regain. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the world outside, you felt a sense of peace and belonging you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”

With your heart full and tears still glistening in your eyes, you nodded. For the first time in years, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. The future ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time, it was a future you were excited to face — together.

@vikingstoner69

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.