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ssa-danhotchner · 3 days ago

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The thread that binds us | Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: after years of friendship, missed chances, and unspoken feelings, Aaron Hotchner and the reader drift apart. Life takes them in different directions—promises left unfulfilled, words left unsaid.

cw: fem reader, non BAU reader, mention of Haley's death, emotional angst, missed chances, grief

wc: 9.6k

note: the years are not exact

english isn't my first language so please be kind! i recently watched Love, Rosie so I have to write this

You met Aaron Hotchner in high school—though “met” wasn’t quite the right word. It was more like fate threw you together in the most chaotic way possible.

The first day of junior year, you showed up late to homeroom, and the only seat left was next to him. He had his arms crossed, his black hoodie pulled over his head, and a bored expression on his face. He looked like the kind of guy who never broke rules and always finished his homework on time.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath as you slid into the chair.

He glanced sideways at you, arching an eyebrow. “Something wrong with sitting here?”

“Not yet,” you said with a smirk, pulling out your notebook.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t until later that day in chemistry class that you found out how insufferable—and surprisingly fun—Aaron Hotchner could be.

“Do you even know how to hold a pipette?” you asked as you watched him fumble with the equipment.

“Do you?” he shot back, his dark eyes narrowing playfully.

“Yes, actually. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m brilliant.”

“Right,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re so brilliant you couldn’t even find your way to homeroom on time.”

“Touché,” you muttered, grabbing the pipette from him. “Move over. Let me save you from yourself.”

He grinned then, wide and genuine, and it was the first time you realized Aaron Hotchner wasn’t as stoic as he seemed. In fact, he could be downright charming when he let his guard down.

𐙚

1984

You became friends after that, though it wasn’t immediate. Aaron wasn’t the type to let people in easily, but once he did, he was loyal to a fault.

By senior year, you were inseparable. People joked that you were attached at the hip, though neither of you ever corrected them. You weren’t dating—everyone assumed you were, but it wasn’t like that. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you doing after graduation?” Aaron asked one day as you sat in your usual spot on the bleachers, watching the soccer team practice.

“I don’t know,” you said, kicking at a loose piece of gravel. “College, I guess. You?”

“Probably the same,” he said, leaning back on his elbows. “My dad wants me to go to law school eventually.”

“Of course he does. You’ve got ‘future lawyer’ written all over you.”

“And what do you have written all over you?” he asked, glancing at you with a smirk.

“Trouble,” you said, grinning.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, laughing softly.

𐙚

Aaron had been thinking about asking you to prom for weeks.

It wasn’t that he assumed you’d say yes, but the idea of going with anyone else just didn’t make sense. You were his best friend. His person. The one who understood him better than anyone.

But there was this nagging doubt in the back of his mind—this quiet voice that whispered, Why would she want to go with you?

You were effortlessly charming, the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. Meanwhile, Aaron was… well, Aaron. Reserved. Cautious. Always too serious for his own good.

So he hesitated.

And then, one afternoon, he found himself in the hallway with Haley Brooks—the golden girl of your high school, the one everyone adored. She was kind, beautiful, and, most importantly, she was interested in him.

He should’ve walked away. He should’ve told her he already had someone in mind.

But when she smiled at him and casually mentioned how she still didn’t have a date for prom, something inside him wavered.

He thought about how easy it would be.

How no one would question why Aaron Hotchner, the quiet, studious overachiever, was taking Haley Brooks to prom.

How maybe, just maybe, if he asked you and you said no, it wouldn’t hurt as much if he had never asked at all.

So instead of finding you after school like he had planned, he looked at Haley and said, “Do you want to go with me?”

𐙚

You smiled when Aaron and Haley arrived at prom together.

At least, you hoped it looked like a smile.

You had spent weeks waiting for him to ask you, certain that he would. Certain that, after all these years, it just made sense.

But he never did.

And when you saw him standing beside Haley in his perfectly pressed suit, his hand resting carefully at her waist, you understood why.

So you smiled. You laughed. You pretended it didn’t sting.

But when a slow song came on, and he met your eyes across the dance floor, something inside you twisted painfully.

Because for a brief moment, you saw it—hesitation. Regret.

And then, before either of you could move, Haley took his hand, pulling him toward the dance floor.

So you turned away, forcing yourself to do the same.

Later that night, when the party had begun to slow and most of the crowd had thinned, you felt a familiar presence behind you.

You turned, and there he was.

Aaron.

He looked unsure, like he was still trying to convince himself to be here.

“Dance with me?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You hesitated. “What about Haley?”

“She won’t mind,” he said quickly. “It’s just one dance.”

Just one dance.

So you let him take your hand, let him pull you onto the dance floor as another slow song started. His hands found your waist, your arms looped around his shoulders, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

Like it was still just the two of you, the way it had always been.

You swayed in silence, and then—so softly it almost didn’t feel real—Aaron leaned in.

Your breath hitched.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was hesitant, searching—like he was afraid of what it meant but couldn’t stop himself, either.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, your heart hammering against your ribs. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away.

His eyes were wide, his breathing unsteady, and for a moment, you thought he was about to say something that would change everything.

But then his face shuttered.

“I—” He swallowed, shaking his head slightly. “That was a mistake.”

The words hit you like a slap.

Aaron must have seen something in your face because he immediately backpedaled. “I mean—I just—” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your stomach twisted, and you forced yourself to nod. “Right. Yeah.”

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The song was still playing, but neither of you were dancing anymore.

You should’ve said something. Told him he was wrong. That it wasn’t a mistake, that it meant something.

But instead, you nodded again and forced a smile. “It’s fine, Aaron.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else—like he was desperate to—but instead, he just exhaled and gave you the smallest, saddest smile.

And that was that.

Neither of you brought it up again.

𐙚

You and Aaron didn’t fall apart after that night.

You still spent the summer together before college, still stayed up late talking, still laughed until your stomachs hurt.

And if sometimes his eyes lingered on you a little too long, or if you caught yourself remembering the feeling of his lips on yours—you both pretended it never happened.

Because that’s what Aaron wanted.

And if he could pretend, then so could you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

It hadn’t been a mistake.

It had been a choice.

And maybe, one day, he would finally be brave enough to make a different one.

𐙚

The summer after graduation felt like borrowed time.

You and Aaron knew things were changing—college, distance, new experiences—but neither of you talked about it. Instead, you spent every moment together, stretching out the days like they could last forever.

Late-night drives with the windows down, the radio playing softly in the background. Sneaking into your old high school football field, lying on the grass, talking about nothing and everything. Silent moments where you’d catch him looking at you, like he was memorizing your face, just in case.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, August crept closer.

“I don’t get why you’re going all the way to New York,” Aaron said one evening, his voice unusually tense. You were sitting on the swings at the park, your feet dragging in the dirt.

“Because I need to,” you said simply, staring up at the sky. “And you’re staying here because you need to.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “We’ll still talk all the time.”

You nodded, but a part of you didn’t believe it.

It wasn’t like you wanted to drift apart, but life had a way of pulling people in different directions.

𐙚

At first, you kept your promise.

You called constantly—late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours, emails filled with inside jokes and stories about your new lives. You told Aaron about your classes, your new favorite coffee shop, the people you met. He told you about his professors, how law school wasn’t as bad as he expected, how his dad was already making plans for his future.

But as the months passed, the calls grew less frequent.

“I miss you,” you admitted one night, your voice quieter than usual.

“I miss you too,” he said, but he sounded tired, distracted.

And then, one day, he didn’t pick up.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He got busy. You got busy. Weeks turned into months. You’d pick up your phone to text him, only to hesitate, wondering if he’d even have time to respond.

Slowly, the spaces between your conversations stretched wider, until one day, you realized you hadn’t spoken in over a year.

𐙚

1995

You weren’t expecting an invitation to Aaron’s wedding.

By that point, it had been years since you’d last spoken. Life had pulled you in opposite directions—him with law school and the FBI, you with your career and a life far from Virginia. But one day, an envelope appeared in your mailbox, his name scrawled neatly across the back.

Opening it, you found an invitation to his wedding with Haley.

It felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs.

The last time you’d seen Aaron, there had been something unspoken lingering between you, something you had buried deep because you didn’t know what to do with it. But now, seeing his name next to hers, reality hit you like a freight train.

He had moved on. He was happy.

And you? You weren’t sure what you felt.

A week later, your phone rang.

“Y/N,” Aaron’s familiar voice came through the line.

“Aaron,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hey.”

“Did you get the invitation?” he asked.

“I did,” you said softly. “I was… surprised.”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone hesitant. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. But it wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

Your chest tightened.

“Of course I’ll come,” you said, even though part of you wanted to say no.

There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat. “There’s, uh, something else. Haley and I were talking… and I was wondering if you’d say a few words at the reception. You’ve known me the longest out of anyone, and—”

“Aaron,” you interrupted gently, your heart aching. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

𐙚

The day of the wedding came faster than you expected.

You arrived at the church early, trying to keep your emotions in check as you took your seat near the front. The ceremony was beautiful—Haley looked radiant, Aaron impossibly handsome in his tux. Watching them exchange vows was bittersweet; you were happy for him, truly, but it was impossible to ignore the pang of longing deep in your chest.

At the reception, you did your best to blend into the background, sipping champagne and avoiding the dance floor. But when Aaron called your name, motioning for you to come up and speak, there was no hiding.

You took a deep breath, standing up and walking to the microphone. The room was quiet, all eyes on you, but your focus was solely on him.

“Hi, everyone,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Y/n. Aaron and I have been friends since high school, and I’m honored to be here today to celebrate this incredible milestone in his life.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the small, encouraging smile he gave you.

“I could stand here and talk for hours about the kind of person Aaron is. How he’s always been the smartest guy in the room, how he has this way of making everyone feel safe, of making them laugh even when he pretends he’s the serious one. He’s someone who gives all of himself to the people he loves.”

You hesitated, gripping the edge of the microphone stand.

“But what I really want to say is this: Aaron, no matter where life takes you, no matter where you are or who you’re with, you’ll always have a piece of my heart. I’ll always love you.”

The room was quiet for a beat before polite applause broke out. Everyone took your words as the sentiment of a lifelong friend, but when your eyes met Aaron’s, you knew he didn’t.

His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, maybe even regret.

He didn’t say anything, though.

Later, as the night wound down, you found yourself alone on the balcony, staring out at the stars. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Aaron standing there, his jacket off, his tie loosened.

He stepped beside you, resting his hands on the railing. The soft hum of music and laughter filtered through the open door, but out here, it was quiet—just the two of you and the weight of everything unspoken.

“You always did sneak away at parties,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth.

You smiled faintly. “Some things never change.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the kind that felt more like a conversation than anything you could put into words. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the slight slouch of his shoulders, the loosened tie, the way his fingers curled against the railing like he was anchoring himself.

“I meant what I said in there,” you said softly, breaking the stillness.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might say something. But instead, he exhaled slowly, looking down at his hands.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Aaron…”

He turned to you then, his dark eyes meeting yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw it—something raw and vulnerable, something that felt like an echo of the feelings you had buried long ago.

And just like that, it was gone.

Because Aaron already knew what you were about to say.

And he wanted—God, he wanted—to tell you he felt the same way. That there had been nights when he couldn’t sleep, thinking about the way you’d looked at him during your prom dance. That there had been moments when he’d almost picked up the phone, only to stop himself because he was afraid of what it would mean. That even now, standing beside you on his wedding night, part of him wished things had been different.

But he couldn’t.

Not now. Not tonight.

So instead, he reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than they should have.

“You always know what to say,” he said quietly, his lips twitching into a small, bittersweet smile.

You searched his face, hoping—praying—for something more. But he stepped back, the space between you suddenly feeling too wide and too small all at once.

“Come back inside,” he said, his voice soft. “They’ll miss you.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

But as he walked back inside, you stayed behind, gripping the railing as your breath hitched in your throat.

Aaron had stopped at the doorway, his hand on the frame. For one fleeting second, he turned back to look at you, something heavy and unspoken in his eyes.

But he didn’t say it.

Because he knew that if he did, it would change everything.

And he couldn’t let himself do that.

So, with one final glance, he disappeared back into the glow of the reception, back to Haley, back to the life he had chosen.

You stayed on the balcony a little while longer, staring up at the stars, letting the weight of the moment settle over you.

Aaron loved you. You knew that now.

But sometimes, love wasn’t enough to rewrite the story.

And so, you turned and walked back inside, letting the door close behind you.

𐙚

2008

The coffee shop hadn’t changed.

It still smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon, the same tiny bell chimed above the door when someone walked in, and the old barista at the counter still greeted customers with a warm, knowing smile. It was one of those places that seemed untouched by time, as if the world could shift and change outside, but inside, everything remained the same.

You hadn’t been here in years. Not since before Aaron’s wedding.

And yet, as you stepped inside, the familiarity wrapped around you like an old memory.

You had been back in D.C. for a few days, just for work. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a quick trip—a conference, a few meetings, and then back home. But something about the city had drawn you in, pulling at the threads of a past you thought you had let go of.

And apparently, fate wasn’t done with you yet.

Because there, sitting in the farthest corner of the café, was him.

Aaron Hotchner.

He looked different. Older, in a way that had nothing to do with age. His hair was shorter than you remembered, the sharp angles of his face even more defined. He looked good—too good—but there was something behind his eyes, a tiredness that hadn’t been there before.

You hesitated, debating whether or not to turn around and leave before he could see you. But it was too late.

Aaron looked up just as you took a step back, and the second his gaze locked onto yours, time seemed to slow.

His expression shifted from surprise to something softer, something almost unreadable. And then, before you could make a decision, he smiled—just a little, just enough to make your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You took a breath and walked toward him.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, your voice lighter than you felt.

Aaron’s lips twitched, like he was suppressing a real smile. “I was starting to think you disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

You chuckled as you slid into the chair across from him. “I could say the same about you.”

There was a beat of silence. Not an awkward one, just a quiet moment of taking each other in.

“How long has it been?” he asked finally.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Since your wedding.”

His expression flickered for a moment, but he covered it quickly, nodding. “Yeah. A long time.”

Another pause.

You weren’t sure how to bring it up—how to ask him how he was doing without bringing up her. The last time you had seen him, he had been standing at the altar, his hands in Haley’s as he vowed forever. And you had smiled, clapped along with everyone else, and then walked away, knowing deep down that something between you and Aaron had closed that day.

But now? Now, he was sitting here, alone.

“You look good,” you said instead. “Tired, but good.”

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s a nice way of saying I look like hell.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He took a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup before setting it down. And then, just like that, his expression shifted again—more serious, more raw.

“I’m divorced.”

The words came so suddenly that it took you a moment to register them.

You blinked. “Oh.”

Aaron let out a breath, as if finally saying it aloud was both a relief and a weight at the same time. “It’s been over a half year now.”

Half year. And you had no idea.

You swallowed, trying to push past the sudden rush of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “I’m sorry, Aaron.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was… inevitable.” He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. “We tried. For a long time. But in the end, it just wasn’t working anymore.”

You wanted to ask what had happened. If it had been something specific, or if it had just been one of those things that slowly fell apart over time. But the way he was looking at you—calm, but tired—told you that he had already accepted it.

And maybe that was the hardest part.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, playing with the edge of your sleeve. “I mean… I know it’s not easy.”

Aaron nodded, his gaze dropping to his coffee. “No, it’s not. But it was the right thing.” He exhaled softly, then looked up at you again. “Enough about me. What about you? How’s life?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you weren’t sure what to say. Your life had been full—work, travel, relationships that never seemed to stick—but sitting here with him, all of that seemed distant. Like another version of yourself had lived it.

“I’m good,” you said finally. “Busy, mostly. Traveling a lot for work.”

Aaron smirked. “Still running away from D.C.?”

You rolled your eyes. “I prefer the term ‘exploring my options.’”

That made him chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two people who had spent their high school years hiding out on rooftops and sneaking off to coffee shops to escape reality.

But things had changed.

He wasn’t the same boy you had fallen for all those years ago. And you weren’t the same girl who had spent too many nights wondering if he ever saw you the way you saw him.

Yet, somehow, the thread between you had never truly broken.

Aaron’s expression softened again, and before you could say anything else, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a few taps, he turned it toward you, showing you a picture.

A little boy with light hair and bright, curious eyes stared back at you, his smile so familiar it made your chest tighten.

“Is this…?”

“Jack,” Aaron said, and there was something different in his voice now. Something lighter. “He’s four now.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips as you studied the picture. “He’s adorable.”

Aaron chuckled, putting his phone away. “He’s amazing. Smart, stubborn, way too independent for his own good.” He shook his head fondly. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You watched him for a moment, the way his entire demeanor had changed. Even after everything—the divorce, the exhaustion written in the lines of his face—there was no mistaking the love he had for his son. It was in every word, in every expression.

And something about that made your heart ache even more.

“You’d love him,” Aaron added after a pause, looking at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

You met his gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m sure I would.”

Neither of you said anything after that. You just sat there, in a coffee shop that had stayed the same, even when everything else had changed.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of the story after all.

𐙚

The few days in D.C. passed too quickly.

You and Aaron spent what little time you could together—coffee in the mornings, long conversations that stretched into the evening. It was strange how easily you fell back into each other’s rhythm, like time had never separated you at all.

But reality had a way of creeping back in.

The night before you left, you sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the city lights glowing softly in the distance. Aaron had insisted on walking with you one last time, hands shoved in his pockets, his face unreadable.

“So,” he said after a long silence. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, staring out at the reflecting pool.

Neither of you said what you were really thinking. That it wasn’t fair. That fate had brought you back together only to pull you apart again.

Aaron shifted beside you. “I should’ve called you years ago.”

You turned to him, surprised. His gaze was distant, his jaw tight.

“I thought about it,” he admitted, finally looking at you. “So many times. But I kept telling myself it had been too long. That maybe you’d moved on.”

Your heart ached at the confession.

“I would’ve answered,” you said softly.

His lips pressed together, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to.

Instead, he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

Maybe, in another lifetime, this moment would’ve been different. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to say goodbye again.

𐙚

The night air was crisp as you stood outside your hotel, your bag resting at your feet. Aaron stood beside you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, the city lights casting a soft glow on his face.

“I feel like I should say something profound,” you said, offering a small, wry smile.

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to.”

But there was something in his expression—something unreadable, something hesitant.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “This was nice. Seeing you again.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

A beat of silence.

The car that would take you to the airport pulled up to the curb, but neither of you moved.

You looked up at him, and suddenly, the weight of it all settled in your chest. The fact that, after years apart, you had found each other again—only for you to leave. Again.

His gaze softened, and you could feel it—that pull, the invisible string that had always been there between you, stretching taut.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, he was closer. The warmth of his body cut through the cold night air, and your breath hitched as his hand barely, barely brushed against yours.

It would be so easy.

So easy to close the space, to lean in, to finally let go of all the years of missed chances and unspoken words.

Your heart pounded as you tilted your chin up ever so slightly, eyes flickering to his lips.

And for a moment, you thought—

But then, just as quickly as the moment came, Aaron took a step back.

His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I should let you go,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

The door to the car opened, and you forced yourself to move, to pick up your bag and step away from him.

As you slid into the seat, you risked one last glance at him.

He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you go.

And then the door closed, and you were gone.

𐙚

2009

It was late. Too late for a casual call.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up in the darkness of your hotel room. You were half-asleep, groggy as you reached for it, your brain sluggishly registering the name on the screen.

Aaron.

A strange feeling settled in your stomach as you sat up, clearing your throat before answering.

“Aaron?”

At first, there was nothing. Just silence and the sound of breathing—uneven, shaky.

You frowned, fully awake now. “Aaron? Are you okay?”

Then, finally, his voice. But it was different. Not the steady, composed Aaron Hotchner you had always known. This voice was hollow, cracked at the edges, barely above a whisper.

“She’s gone.”

Two words.

And yet, they carried a weight that nearly stole the breath from your lungs.

Your grip on the phone tightened. “What?”

Aaron inhaled sharply, but it sounded ragged. “Haley,” he murmured. “She’s… she’s gone.”

It hit you like a punch to the chest.

Haley.

You closed your eyes, your heart aching in a way you hadn’t expected. No matter what had happened between them—no matter the divorce, the years, the distance—she had been a part of his life, the mother of his child. And now, she was gone.

“Oh, Aaron…”

He didn’t say anything. And that silence—his silence—was almost worse than if he had broken down.

You could hear it in the way he was breathing, though. The way he was holding himself together by a thread.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice barely there.

Your heart clenched.

“Aaron,” you said softly, leaning forward, as if that would somehow bring you closer to him. “Where are you?”

“Home.” Another pause. Then, quieter, “Jack is asleep.”

You shut your eyes. The thought of Jack—so small, so young—losing his mother made your chest tighten painfully.

“I’m coming,” you said without hesitation, already pushing the blankets off, already reaching for your suitcase.

Aaron exhaled, and you swore you heard the slightest waver in it.

“Okay,” he murmured.

That was it.

No protest. No telling you that you didn’t have to.

Just okay.

Because right now, he didn’t need distance. He didn’t need space.

He needed you.

And you would be there. Always.

𐙚

The flight to D.C. felt like the longest of your life.

You barely remembered packing. Barely remembered booking the ticket, rushing through the airport, or the restless way your fingers twisted in your lap during the flight. All you could think about was him.

The man who had always been steady, composed, unshakable. The man who, even in his darkest moments, never allowed himself to break.

But tonight, he had called you.

And that told you everything you needed to know.

By the time you arrived at his apartment, it was past midnight. The cab ride had been quiet, the city lights casting long shadows over the streets. When you stepped out in front of the building, you hesitated for just a moment, your heart pounding.

Then you walked inside.

The hallway leading to his door felt endless, every step heavier than the last. When you finally reached it, you took a deep breath and knocked softly.

It only took a few seconds for the door to open.

And the second you saw him, everything inside you shattered.

Aaron looked wrecked.

His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened and off-center, like he had pulled at it absentmindedly. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed, dark circles beneath them. He looked like a man who had lost something he couldn’t fathom living without.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without thinking, without hesitation, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Aaron didn’t move at first. He just stood there, stiff, like he wasn’t sure how to respond. Like he had forgotten what it meant to be held.

But then, slowly—so slowly—his arms came around you, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

And that’s when you felt it.

The way his body shook against yours. The way his fingers curled into your jacket like he needed something to hold onto. The way his breath came out in a harsh, uneven exhale against your shoulder.

It was the closest thing to breaking you had ever seen from him.

And it crushed you.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your throat tight, your eyes burning.

Aaron didn’t answer. He just held you tighter.

You stayed like that for a long time, standing in the doorway, wrapped in grief and something else—something unspoken, something that had always been there between you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours, something vulnerable in them that you had never seen before.

Then, in a voice so raw it barely sounded like him, he said, “She told me to take care of him.”

You swallowed, your heart aching. “Jack?”

Aaron nodded, blinking rapidly, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “She made me promise.” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists like he was trying to pull himself back together. “But I don’t—”

He stopped, exhaling sharply. Then, softer, more broken, “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not alone.”

Aaron’s gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable in his eyes.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise, Aaron. You’re not alone.”

For a moment, he just looked at you.

And then, finally—finally—he nodded.

And in that moment, something between you shifted.

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was the years of missed chances and unspoken words. Or maybe, it was just the simple fact that, no matter how much time passed, you would always find your way back to each other.

Even in the darkest of nights.

Even when the world felt unbearably heavy.

You would always be his person.

And deep down, you knew—he would always be yours.

𐙚

The first week after the funeral, you woke up to the sound of movement.

You rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the apartment. It took you a moment to register where you were—on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket from last night.

Then you heard it again. The soft rustling of fabric, the quiet click of a belt buckle.

You sat up immediately, pushing the blanket off as you spotted Aaron standing near the kitchen, already dressed in his suit.

Your stomach dropped.

“You’re going in?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep but laced with disbelief.

Aaron barely glanced at you as he adjusted his tie. “There’s a case.”

You stared at him. “Aaron, no. You just—”

“I can’t sit here,” he interrupted, his voice steady but hollow. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, pressing his lips together tightly before exhaling. “I need to work.”

Your heart clenched.

He was doing what he always did—burying himself in the job, using it as a shield, as something to focus on so he wouldn’t have to sit still and feel.

You stood, walking toward him. “You need more time,” you said softly.

Aaron finally looked at you then, and for the first time since the funeral, there was something sharp in his gaze. Not anger—just exhaustion, frustration.

“I don’t have time,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Jack needs stability. He needs normalcy. And if I don’t go back, if I don’t move, then—” He cut himself off again, clenching his jaw.

You swallowed hard, reaching out to touch his arm. “He needs you, Aaron. And you’re not ready—”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The weight in his voice made your chest ache.

You wanted to fight him on this. Wanted to tell him that he was being reckless, that he wasn’t a machine, that he needed to grieve before he shattered under the weight of it all.

But you knew Aaron.

You knew that if you pushed too hard, he’d only dig his heels in deeper.

So instead, you took a breath and shifted the conversation. “What about Jack?”

Aaron hesitated. “Jessica can take him for the day,” he said, but it sounded like an afterthought.

You shook your head. “No. Let me stay with him.”

Aaron blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said gently, giving him a look. “But I want to. He knows me. He’s comfortable with me. Let me be here for him while you—” You sighed, not wanting to finish that sentence.

While you run from your grief.

Aaron was quiet for a long time. His gaze flickered between you and Jack’s bedroom door, the weight of the decision settling over him.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Okay.”

You let out a quiet breath, relieved that he wasn’t arguing. “Okay,” you echoed.

Aaron glanced at his watch, then back at you. There was something unreadable in his expression, something almost hesitant.

Then, before you could say anything else, he reached out, squeezing your hand briefly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

𐙚

Jack woke up about an hour later, padding out of his room in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes.

When he saw you in the kitchen, his tiny brows furrowed. “Where’s Daddy?”

You crouched down to his level, keeping your voice soft. “He had to go to work for a little bit.”

Jack’s lip wobbled slightly, but he didn’t cry. “He was sad yesterday.”

Your heart squeezed.

“I know, buddy,” you murmured, brushing some of his messy hair back. “But he loves you so much. And he’s going to be home soon.”

Jack hesitated, then looked up at you. “Will you stay?”

You smiled gently. “Of course. We’re gonna have a fun day together, okay?”

Jack seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding. Then, in a small voice, he said, “Can we have pancakes?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Absolutely.”

Jack’s face brightened, and for the first time since you arrived, you saw a glimpse of something lighter in his expression.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what happened, no matter how much Aaron tried to push forward too soon—you’d be here.

For Jack.

For Aaron.

For both of them.

Always.

𐙚

A month passed in the blink of an eye

The apartment was quiet.

Jack had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up in bed after insisting you read him his favorite book one last time before you left.

Now, it was just you and Aaron, sitting on the couch in the dim glow of the living room lamp, nursing cups of tea that had long gone cold.

Neither of you had said much for a while, just sitting in comfortable silence, knowing this was the last night before things changed again.

Aaron sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s going to be strange without you here.”

You smiled slightly. “You’ll manage.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Somehow.”

A beat of silence.

Then, without really thinking, you murmured, “I’m leaving my job.”

Aaron’s head turned sharply, his brows furrowing. “What?”

You let out a breath, staring down at your mug. “It’s… it became too much,” you admitted. “The hours, the pressure, the constant stress. I used to love it, but now it just feels like I’m running on empty all the time.”

Aaron was quiet, watching you carefully.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t want my entire life to be about work anymore. I want something simpler. Something where I don’t wake up every morning feeling like I can’t breathe.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I get that.”

You looked at him, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

Because he did get it.

Maybe better than anyone.

You smiled weakly. “I think I’m going to find something small. Something normal. Maybe work in a bookstore or a little office job—something where I can actually live my life instead of just surviving it.”

Aaron nodded slowly, considering your words. “That sounds… nice.”

You huffed a laugh. “You sound surprised.”

His lips twitched. “No. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever thought about what a normal life would look like.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You ever think about leaving the BAU?”

Aaron hesitated, looking down at his hands. “Sometimes.”

That surprised you. “Really?”

He exhaled. “I love what I do. But… I don’t know. Lately, I’ve started wondering if it’s sustainable. If it’s fair to Jack.”

You nodded, understanding.

Maybe neither of you had ever really stopped long enough to think about what else life could be.

You bit your lip, then nudged his arm lightly. “Maybe we should both find some sleepy little town and open a coffee shop.”

Aaron chuckled. “I’d be terrible at that.”

You smirked. “You’d be the serious owner who glares at customers for taking too long to order, and I’d be the one making sure we don’t get bad Yelp reviews.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s a solid business model.”

You grinned, but then, after a moment, the smile faded, replaced by something softer. “I mean it, though. You deserve something easier, Aaron.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something unreadable in his expression.

“You do too,” he murmured.

A beat of silence.

Then, before the moment could stretch too long, you sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Well, first things first—I need to figure out what I’m doing next.”

Aaron nodded, but his gaze lingered on you, like he was committing this moment to memory.

Like maybe, for the first time, he was realizing that you wouldn’t always be here.

That tomorrow, you were leaving.

And neither of you knew when you’d be back.

𐙚

The next morning came too quickly.

You woke up before your alarm, the weight of the day pressing down on your chest before you even opened your eyes.

By the time you stepped out of your room, your suitcase already packed and waiting by the door, Aaron was in the kitchen making coffee. Jack sat at the table in his pajamas, sleepily pushing around pieces of cereal in his bowl.

Aaron glanced up when he saw you, his expression unreadable. “Morning.”

You forced a smile. “Morning.”

Jack perked up at your voice, but as soon as he remembered what today was, his little face fell. “You’re leaving.”

Your heart clenched.

You walked over, crouching down beside his chair. “I am, buddy,” you said softly. “But I’m going to come visit. And you can call me whenever you want, okay?”

Jack hesitated, then wrapped his arms around your neck in a tight hug.

You held him close, closing your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of him. “I love you, kiddo,” you murmured.

“Love you too,” he whispered back.

When he finally pulled away, he wiped at his eyes but nodded, like he was trying to be brave. “Okay.”

You gave him one last squeeze before standing up, turning to Aaron.

He was watching you carefully, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug.

“Your flight’s soon,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Aaron cleared his throat. “I’ll drive you.”

“Aaron—”

“It’s not up for debate,” he said, giving you a look. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, but you didn’t argue.

Jack waved from the door as you left, and you swore you saw his lip wobble, but he stayed put—just like you’d promised, he was strong.

𐙚

The drive to the airport was quiet.

Not uncomfortable. Just… heavy.

Neither of you seemed to know what to say.

When Aaron finally pulled up to the drop-off curb, he put the car in park and exhaled slowly. “You’ll text me when you land?”

You smiled faintly. “Of course.”

He nodded, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before finally turning to you. “You sure about leaving your job?”

You huffed a soft laugh. “I think so.”

Aaron studied you, then—before you could react—reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that you froze.

His hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, clearing his throat.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Your chest ached. “You will too.”

Aaron exhaled, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. “Thank you. For everything.”

You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to thank me, Aaron.”

His jaw tightened, like there was something else he wanted to say.

Something he wouldn’t say.

Instead, he nodded once, his hand twitching slightly like he was debating whether to reach for you again. But he didn’t.

So you did.

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him.

For a second, Aaron hesitated.

Then he let out a quiet breath and pulled you in, holding you tighter than he probably meant to.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

And for just a moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But then—too soon—it had to.

You pulled back, forcing a small smile. “I’ll see you, okay?”

Aaron nodded, but there was something in his eyes that made it hard to walk away.

Still, you grabbed your suitcase and turned toward the airport entrance.

But just before you stepped inside, you glanced over your shoulder—

And there he was, still sitting in the car, watching you.

Like he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Like maybe, deep down—

He never would be.

𐙚

2011

The bullpen was quiet. Most of the team had already gone home for the night, leaving only the faint hum of computers and the distant murmur of voices from other departments. The dim glow of Aaron Hotchner’s desk lamp illuminated the stacks of paperwork in front of him, but he wasn’t reading them.

His eyes were on the framed picture beside his computer.

It was a simple photo, but one that had somehow found a permanent place in his office. You and Jack, at the park. You were laughing, your head tilted back slightly as Jack clung to your side, his small arms wrapped around yours. It had been taken nearly two years ago, back when you had been staying in D.C. after Haley’s death—back when you had been his anchor without even realizing it.

His fingers traced the edge of the frame absentmindedly.

How had two years passed?

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about you. In fact, that was the problem. He had never stopped thinking about you. It was in the quiet moments, in the spaces between work and home, in the memories that resurfaced when he least expected them.

He thought about you when Jack asked about you.

He thought about you when he reached for his phone late at night, only to stop himself before dialing your number.

He thought about you when he walked past the coffee shop you had loved in D.C., the one where you had made him take a break from his endless case files just to sit with you and drink overpriced lattes.

He thought about you, and every time he convinced himself to push it aside, it always crept back in.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. He was being ridiculous. He had no right to feel this way after all this time.

And yet, the ache in his chest told him otherwise.

The knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hotch?”

David Rossi.

Aaron straightened slightly, clearing his throat as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Yeah?”

Rossi stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door behind him. His eyes flickered to the framed picture on the desk before settling on Aaron.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Rossi stated, not even posing it as a question.

Aaron’s jaw tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rossi scoffed, dropping into the chair across from him. “Please. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know when someone’s got something—or someone—on their mind.” He nodded toward the picture. “And you? You’ve been staring at that damn thing for the past twenty minutes.”

Aaron glanced at the photo again, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“I wasn’t—” He started to deny it, but Rossi’s knowing look stopped him.

“You miss her.”

It wasn’t a question.

Aaron inhaled deeply, pressing his lips together before finally exhaling. “…Yeah.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I do.”

Rossi leaned forward slightly. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?”

Aaron frowned. “What?”

Rossi sighed, shaking his head. “Hotch, you’re one of the smartest men I know, but when it comes to your own feelings, you are clueless.” He pointed at him. “She left, and you let her go. But if you think she’s just gone from your life, then you’re fooling yourself.”

Aaron looked away, running a hand through his hair. “She moved on. She’s in New York, she has her own life now. I can’t just show up and—”

Rossi interrupted. “Why not?”

Aaron looked back at him.

Rossi’s expression softened slightly. “Tell me something. If you called her right now—if you told her you wanted to see her—do you really think she’d say no?”

Aaron opened his mouth, then closed it.

Because the truth was—he didn’t know.

He had spent so long convincing himself that he had no right to ask for more, that he had never even considered the possibility that you might have been waiting for him to say something.

Rossi sighed again. “Look, kid. Life doesn’t wait for you to figure things out. It moves on, whether you’re ready or not. And if you sit here for another two years convincing yourself you missed your chance, you’re going to wake up one day and realize that she really is gone.”

Aaron swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the thought.

“She’s still out there, Hotch,” Rossi said, his voice quieter now. “And something tells me she hasn’t stopped thinking about you either.”

Aaron’s fingers tightened around the frame in his hands.

“Go to her,” Rossi said simply. “Before it’s too late.”

For a long moment, Aaron didn’t say anything.

Rossi didn’t push. He just stood up, clapped Aaron on the shoulder, and left the office.

Aaron remained still, staring down at the picture again.

Go to her.

Before it’s too late.

The words echoed in his mind long after Rossi was gone.

And for the first time in nearly two years, Aaron wondered if maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.

𐙚

The streets of New York were loud, alive with their usual rhythm—cars honking, people moving past each other in hurried steps, conversations blending into the background hum of the city. But Aaron barely noticed any of it.

His heart was pounding, his palms slightly clammy despite the cold air.

He had spent the entire flight convincing himself he was making a mistake. That he had no right to do this. That you had probably moved on, that maybe you had someone else now, that showing up like this was selfish.

But then, he had thought about what Rossi had said.

Before it’s too late.

And now he was standing in front of your coffee shop, staring through the large glass windows, his breath fogging slightly against the cold air.

There you were.

Moving behind the counter, your face lit up in a laugh as you spoke to a customer. You looked happy. Comfortable. Like you belonged here.

For a moment, he thought about walking away.

But then, as if sensing him, you turned toward the window.

And your eyes met his.

Your laughter faded, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

Aaron felt frozen in place, his breath caught in his chest as he saw the realization dawn in your expression.

Then, slowly, you stepped out from behind the counter and made your way toward the door.

The bell above the entrance chimed softly as you pushed it open, stepping outside onto the sidewalk, arms wrapped around yourself against the cold.

“Aaron?” Your voice was breathless, as if you couldn’t quite believe he was standing in front of you.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, the city moving around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly.

Aaron took a shaky breath. “I needed to see you.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “After almost two years?”

“I know,” he admitted. “I know it’s been too long. And I should have come sooner. I should have said something sooner.” His throat tightened as he looked at you. “But I was afraid.”

You exhaled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Afraid of what?”

His lips pressed together for a moment before he met your gaze again. “Afraid of losing you. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin everything.”

You stared at him, your breath catching. “Aaron…”

But he kept going, his voice raw, unguarded in a way he had never allowed himself to be before.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “Not after you left. Not after any of it. I tried. I told myself I had to let you go. That you had your own life now, and I had mine. But every time I thought I had moved on, I’d hear your voice in my head. I’d see something that reminded me of you, or Jack would ask about you, and it was like—” He let out a shaky breath. “It was like I was still reaching for something that was already gone.”

You swallowed, your eyes shining as you listened.

Aaron took a step closer, his voice lower now. “And then Rossi—he told me I needed to stop running from it. That I needed to come here before it was too late.” He exhaled, his eyes searching yours. “And he was right.”

You blinked up at him, your breath shallow.

Aaron hesitated for only a second before he took your hands in his, his grip warm, grounding.

“I love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a confession he had held back for too many years. “I’ve loved you for longer than I ever admitted to myself. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

For so long, you had wanted to hear those words. You had dreamed about this moment, imagined it in so many different ways. But now, standing here, with the weight of his confession settling between you, you realized something—

You had never imagined this.

The way his voice trembled with emotion. The way his eyes looked at you, full of something deep and unshakable. The way the city buzzed around you, but it felt like there was no one else in the world.

You felt tears welling in your eyes as you exhaled a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving. “You really came all this way… just to tell me that?”

Aaron smiled, just barely, but his voice was still raw with honesty. “Yeah. I did.”

Your lips parted slightly, your chest tightening with so much emotion you could barely breathe.

And then—

You didn’t think. You just moved.

You reached up, grabbing the collar of his coat, and pulled him down to you.

Aaron barely had time to react before your lips were on his, soft but urgent, years of unspoken words and unsaid feelings pouring into the kiss.

He inhaled sharply, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, his body instinctively leaning into yours.

And then—

The memory hit.

The prom.

The slow song, the way your hands had rested on his shoulders, the warmth of his hands on your waist. The way the world had faded until it was just the two of you, swaying gently, the room spinning in a blur of lights.

And the kiss.

The way it had been tentative, hesitant, the taste of something new and terrifying. The way neither of you had spoken about it afterward, too afraid of what it might mean.

Now, years later, the kiss was no longer hesitant. It was deep, full, a promise of everything that had been left unsaid for too long.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, your forehead rested against his.

Aaron let out a soft, shaky laugh. “That was—”

“Long overdue?” you finished for him, smiling softly.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing against your jaw. “Yeah.”

You exhaled, your voice quieter now. “I waited for you, you know.”

Aaron’s throat tightened. “I know.” His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “And I’m so sorry I made you wait this long.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel the warmth of his touch, the way his breath mixed with yours in the cold air.

Then you looked at him again, your voice steady, certain.

“You’re here now.”

Aaron nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “I am.”

And this time, there was no doubt.

No hesitation.

No going back.

Just the two of you, standing in the middle of a busy New York street, finally getting it right.

Finally finding your way back to each other.

---

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x y/n #angst #angst with a happy ending #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotch hotchner

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a-pute11as · 3 days ago

Text

clear intentions - jenni hermoso

word count - 3.2k | summary - jenni has very clear intentions, but r is determined to not fall for her charm.. again

MDNI 18 + - 18+ themes & suggestions of smut

team nights out were always fun, some alcohol, a lot of dancing and outfits that probably showed more than they needed to especially when you were celebrating your recent cup win. somehow your ex-situationship had made an appearance at the celebration, and whilst you were known for falling for her charm ridiculously quickly you knew you couldn’t give into her too easily.

“jenni is here” patri smirked, fully aware of the whole backstory surrounding the two of you.

“do not fall into her trap nena, it’s always a bad idea” cata insisted, rolling her eyes at the thought of how many times she had said that to you before.

“i won’t okay, the last time i saw her was after the bronze medal match, and that really was something but it’s not happening again” you reminisced, biting your lip slightly, remembering an incredible night fueled by a lot of frustration on jenni’s end.

“jodete, you came to that game to come and support your teammates and ended up fucking your ex” cata said, shaking her head, slightly disappointed in your actions.

“of course idiota, we’ve all heard how good it is, how can she say no with those tattoos and muscles and how good her tong-” patri commented, mocking the excuses you had previously given to your friends every time the situation happened before you could cut her off.

“oye no mas” you interrupted your friend, not letting her finish her sentence, “i won’t say yes tonight, i’m going to get with someone else tonight instead” you insisted.

you knew your friends didn’t believe you, but you also knew jenni was expecting you to go running back to her, which you were determined to not let happen. well that’s what you thought.

the three of you made your way over to the bar, joining a few of your other team mates who were just about to take shots. pina handed one to you, a smirk on her face as she nudged her head in the direction of jenni who was talking to people on the other side of the club. you rolled your eyes before letting the liquor hit the back of your throat with speed.

pina raised her eyebrows at you, her shot glass still in her hand, “no jenni tonight?” she questioned before taking her shot.

“no pina i’m not, it’s like you guys don’t trust me” you shook your head, reaching for another full shot glass, before pina blocked your hand.

“amiga slow down, just be careful” pina reasoned, dropping your hand beside you with a reassuring smile.

you did follow her advice, not having another drink until slightly later on in the evening, spending the majority of time on the dancefloor with your friends.

it wasn’t until kika approached you that reminded you of your goal to get with a different girl tonight, she tapped you on your shoulder causing you to turn your attention to her “creo que a mi amiga le gustas”.

“cuál?” you asked, eyeing up her friends who were standing a few metres from you.

“la rubia” she confirmed, pointing to the blonde who stood on the right.

truth be told, she wasn’t your exact type, but she was hot. she was probably 5’5, her blonde curly hair sat mid back, and she was wearing a shirt that made your eyes focus on a very specific area. you were interested enough to forget about jenni for a short amount of time.

you approached the blonde, offering to buy her a drink, taking her hand in yours and leading her to the bar. ordering two shots of tequila, she lined herself up behind you, her hands instinctively finding home on your waist as the two of you waited for your shots to be prepared.

“is this going to be a normal shot, or a fun shot?” she asked, pressing herself against you as the tequila was poured into tiny glasses in front of you.

you turned yourself slightly in her grip, seeing jenni out of the corner of your eye, her eyes watching you like a hawk, “why don't we have some fun”.

she brought the small glass up to your lips, resting her hand on your jaw as she tilted your head back, her thumb caressing your bottom lip as you swallowed the sour liquid. before removing her hand, she ran her thumb across your bottom lip painfully slowly. just as you reached down to grab the shot for her, you were rudely interrupted by a figure behind you.

“what’s going on here?” she asked.

you quickly turned around, greeted by a tall, dark haired, heavily tattooed figure. “jenni what are yo-”.

“i’ll talk to you later, i wanna know why she thinks it’s okay to touch my girlfriend?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head, a mix of jealousy and possessiveness covering her words.

“girlfriend?” the blonde questioned, “kika said you were single” she argued, incredibly confused by the random women who had interrupted the fun moment you were having.

you turned your attention back to the blonde, giving her an awkward smile “i am single, she is just desperate, ignore her honestly”.

“desperate? mi amor we both know those words suit you more” jenni mocked, her tongue flicking across her bottom lip, clearly trying to put you off.

you turned back around to face her, slightly angry at the interruption she had caused “i’m not talking to you jenni, you shouldn’t even be here”.

“and yet you’re talking to me right now princesa” she remarked with a cocky smirk. she knew the effect her nicknames had on you, they always did, especially when she switched between slightly broken english and her native tongue.

“i’m only talking to you because you’re practically stalking me and won’t leave me alone” you stated, trying to be firm, yet it didn’t appear to be working.

“ahh stalking? if you wanted to roleplay you could’ve asked” the cocky smirk only growing further at the lewd suggestion.

you could’ve sworn you were about to turn around and kiss the blonde girl behind you, until you began to turned around and she was no longer there. “jennifer now she’s gone, thanks a lot!’ you thanked her sarcastically.

“si efectivamente, thanks to me” she shrugged nonchalantly, clearly completing the task she set out to do, not seeing a problem with her actions.

“hermoso, leave me alone!” you half shouted, quickly taking the leftover shot before walking away from the spanish footballer.

you quickly found your friends, filling them in on the situation that had just occurred. “i can’t believe she thinks i would bend over for her whenever she asks!” you protested. “pero lo hiciste, many many times” cata commented.

“isn’t that her favourite position?” patri asked, trying to hold back her laughter.

you shot her a glare, “hijas de puta, she is not ending up in my bed tonight!” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, at this point you were trying to convince yourself just as much.

soon enough you were pulled onto the dance floor with your friends, trying to forget about your previous jenni encounter, yet all your mind could think about was her. the way her head would automatically tilt when she showed that stupid cocky smirk or the way her tongue flicked across her bottom lip when she said something that she knew riled you up, but especially the way her hands would roam your body whilst your back was arched or something stupid like that.

zoning out, you let the music take over you completely, you were genuinely enjoying yourself. you felt familiar hands grip your waist from behind, not even bothering to pay attention to who they belong to, assuming it was one of your teammates who came to join in on the fun.

you had stayed that way for at least a few minutes, if not more, until you recognised a whole too familiar move. the person behind you had tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly as her fingers lightly drew patterns on your waist before gripping onto it firmly. attempting to turn around in her grip you were stopped by being pulled closer into the individual, there now being absolutely no space between the two of you.

“at least talk to me princesa” she muttered in your ear, giving you all the confirmation you needed of who was behind you.

“hermoso you can’t keep doing this” you tried your best not to give in, but you could feel yourself starting to relax in her grip with a weird sense of familiarity,

“i know they don’t make you feel as good as i do” jenni purred, her breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “mi amor, let me show you how good i can make you feel”.

it was her classic line, and she knew the effect her words had on you, but as much as you started to relax in her touch there was a voice in the back of your head that sounded a bit like cata telling you to not let her ‘trap’ you.

all of a sudden you pushed your way out of her arms, running to the outside smoking area that was luckily incredibly quiet. you leant against the wall, trying to catch your breath, whilst also trying to think of what to do next. closing your eyes, you tried to block out the seductive words that were playing through your head, not only was the heat rising to your cheeks but it was also growing in between your legs.

“why are you avoiding me?” your eyes shot open, being met by jenni stood directly in front of you.

you rolled your eyes, “i’m not playing this game with you jenni”.

“then why are you letting other girls touch you? sabes que no me gusta” she replied, her head tilting with a genuinely confused look on her face, taking a step closer.

“i can get with whoever i want, i don’t need your permission” you fired back.

“you never have a problem asking for permission when i’m on top of you” she retaliated, your cheeks instantly flushing a bright red.

“jennifer shut up, we are in public” your eyes now diverted down to the ground to avoid her gaze.

she laughed slightly before replying, “mi amor when has that ever stopped us before”.

you couldn’t even figure out a way to respond to her, she knew she could say all the right things to make you weak at the knees and the heat between your legs was proving that. with that she closed the space between you, her hands landing on either side of the wall behind you as her neck craned down to meet your ear, “you know i’m better, stop running from me”.

as if it was a reflex, your eyes shut as your breathing grew heavy, it was ridiculous how easy this woman could have you but you knew you couldn’t give in. the heat from her breath was a subtle reminder of the lack of space between the two of you.

“you don’t have to say anything carino, i know exactly what you’re thinking, you’re the only person i’m taking home tonight so when you finally realise that i’ll be waiting” the audacity that she had to assume that you would give in was ridiculous… ridiculously right but you knew you had to long it out for your own sanity.

as if your body suddenly came alive again, you pushed past jenni, walking straight back into the club, leaving her standing alone in the smoking area. on your way back to your friends, you grabbed yourself another drink, needing a little more to push you over the edge.

“you’ll never believe what just happened” were the first words that left your mouth as you approached patri, cata and pina.

the ideal response would be them being shocked at her actions, yet they all knew her game play and had seen it all before.

“i mean why not? you’ll end up doing it anyways” patri said shrugging her shoulders.

“no callate, don-” cata said, trying to interrupt and be reasonable before being cut off by pina.

“maybe this time will be different and you two can finally admit you’re in love with each other” pina added, wiggling her eyebrows.

“joder, shut up, don’t tempt her” cata responded, trying to put a stop to the two girls who were now giggling slightly.

“cata you’re only saying that because you live next door” pina responded, her laughter increasing.

“si and i don’t want to make another noise complaint” she shook her head as she spoke, “so many noises and ‘jenni please’, it haunts me” she mocked which only set patri and pina off further.

“todos ustedes son idiotas” you muttered.

“no, no entiendes, there were so many noises i did not want to hear” cata firmly said, her eyes wide as if she had seen the most traumatising thing possible.

you shook your head, dismissing her last comment as patri and pina were still hunched over cackling as cata continued to mock the noises she had heard from your apartment.

your eyes drifted around the club, obviously trying to find the spanish football that had you between her arms only minutes ago, yet you were met with the sight of a random girl smiling up at her as her hand rested on jenni’s bicep.

“si, es material de novia” you heard her say, a clear smirk planted on her face as the shorter girl giggled at her terrible joke.

“i can’t believe her” you muttered, clenching onto your glass that was now empty, which concerned cata enough to take the glass from your hand.

“dame esto, you know she’s doing it for a reaction” cata said, wrapping an arm around you as she put the glass down onto an empty table.

your eyes fixed on jenni, watching the way she made another girl laugh and smile whilst she stood there with her stupid smirk. “she told me she’d be leaving with me and now she’s about to fuck another girl in front of everybody”

“and yet you will still fuck her” cata muttered, turning her attention back to your other teammates, knowing her words would be no use.

still focused on jenni, you watched as her eyes flickered in your direction, giving you a wink before turning back to the girl whose hands were still all over her.

refusing to watch any longer, you made your way towards the bathroom. bursting through the door, you leant against the sink as your head dropped with the shame she had made you feel. yet again, it reminded you that you were only there when it was convenient for her.

you heard the door open and close, not even bothering to look up, assuming it would be anyone else but her until you heard the door lock, which made your head shoot up. she stood against the wall, arms crossed with a cocky smirk on her face.

“oh did you get bored of making stupid flirty jokes to random girls?” you spoke, clear jealousy in your voice.

“mi amor come on, that was a great joke, my shirt really feels like girlfriend material, see” she laughed, brushing her hands down her chest as if she was showing off a new purchase.

“ah so you’re only leaving with me but you had no problem with her touching you?” you questioned, head tilted as you challenged her actions.

“it worked didn’t it?” she shrugged casually, her arms back to being crossed against her chest.

“go fuck her then, see if i care” you said, your voice raising higher than before “eres una bici? getting all these girls to ride you”, you muttered.

jenni’s eyebrows raised at your response, “watch your attitude, no me hables asi”.

“or what? go use your stupid rules for that side hoe you were about to fuck” you spat, mocking her dominance as if it was a challenge.

she approached you, her hands dropped to her side as she cornered you against the sink, leaving a painfully close gap yet not laying a hand on you.

“you know exactly what i’d do to you” she remarked, looking you up and down, leaning closer to your ear as she whispered exactly how she’d leave you overstimulated and struggling to walk like the last time you gave her this kind of attitude. and just like usual, she could tell what her words did to you, your breath picking up as your mind filled with the exact feeling of what she described. your thighs pushing together to find some kind of friction that you were lacking, “but i think i’d rather watch you squirm right now” she added, pulling away from you as she let out a slightly sadistic laugh.

you tried to speak but you couldn’t form any words, struggling to think of anything but what she had whispered to you.

“or are you going to run away from me again?” she remarked, taking a step back from you, putting more space back between the two of you.

closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to evaluate your options, your friends had been telling you all night how much of a bad idea this was and yet you were so close to jumping into her arms and letting her do what she wanted to you.

“is it more than sex?” you quickly asked, not even thinking as the words left your mouth.

“que?” jenni looked at you with a puzzled face.

“you heard me jenni” you stated, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were standing your ground.

her hand reached out to cup your cheek, “do you think i would act like this if it was just sex? i turned up just to see you and i’ve literally not kept my eyes off of you, i could have killed that girl for having her hands on you and i still plan on it, the only reason i talked to that girl was so i could find another reason to talk to you”.

“lo siento, i should’ve just talked to you instead of trying to get with another girl” you dropped your arms in defeat.

she pulled you closer, one hand on your hip and the other still on your jaw, her eyes flicked between your eyes and lips before she crashed her own into yours. being with jenni felt so familiar, it felt like home and you knew for sure you’d be taking her home tonight too.

she pulled away, giving the two of you a chance to breathe, “esta bien mi princesa, but you’ll be really sorry later when i remind you what happens when you give me attitude”, she smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“jenni please” you pleaded, hinting for her to go easy on you, knowing it would probably not work but it was worth a shot.

“si! that’s what you’ll be saying, muy bien cari” she used her hand to squeeze your cheeks together, making your lips form a pout, giving you another quick kiss, she took your hand and led you out of the club.

whilst you were determined to not let the spanish footballer into your bed for the night, there was no other way you wanted the night to end other than that exact way, which was more than ideal.

a/n - not proof read, any spelling errors lmk x

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso oneshot #fcb femení #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso imagine #espwnt

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lov3darlings · 2 days ago

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darlings thoughts, figureskater!reader (18+)

cw: jealous!lando, creampie, multiple orgasms, age gap (6 years), exhibitionism (ig), this is just a more of an expanded version of figureskater!reader. also do watch kamila valieva's bolero because i've referenced her signature spin (at the end of the program) and the start of the program.

lando norris is one hell of a jealous and possessive man. he hates seeing others looking at his beloved like they want to have a piece of her. as if they can, in his humble opinion some should be grateful to be even breathing the same air as his beloved.

he watched you talking to the reporter who was asking mundane questions. the report wasn't the problem, it was one of the mclaren reserve driver who was filling the seat while oscar was injured. he watched with such a gaze that only be described as lustful. the pleasant weather of Netherlands seemed off suddenly.

"hey lovie," lando warapped his arms around your waist, walking into the frame. "oh and we have lando norris here," the reporter laughed before wandering off to bother someone else.

"who?" you questioned. "i know you're jealous, you're gripping me too tight," you said. lando mumbled a quick apology and loosened his grip, moving both of you away from the pit lane. "i can't help it," he said, pressing you against the wall in his garage

"you're too pretty. why are you so pretty huh?" he said while prepping butterfly kisses all over your face as you giggled. "ahh you make me feel like such a bad boyfriend for being jealous. but how can i not be when everyone want my darling?" he squished your cheeks.

"lando norris and a bad boyfriend don't belong in the same sentence," you scrunched your nose. he smriked, feeling proud. if he knew the way to your cunt and your heart then you knew how to stroke his already huge ego and dick. "my smart and pretty girl. you're my favorite."

was the pda too much? in his opinion, it was enough for the cameras and fans to call him a sweet boyfriend. and enough of a signal for the reserve driver to back the fuck off.

he won the race with almost half a minute lead. his teammate was down in 19th, lando lapped him fucking twice.

if there's something that lando doesn't credit you enough for was your flexibility. despite being a professional figure skater, you were more flexible than an average skater. some demonstrations of your flexibility was your ability to do the heart pull move, move your arms to the back and conjoine them and bring it forward over your head. even your signature needle spin was tough to replicate. all in you current program, bolero.

lando groaned into your mouth. one hand on your face and the other roaming all over your body as he pressed you against his driver's room door. he leaned in again, kissing you harder. you could practically taste the washed away residue of champagne in his mouth. he stripped you down, moving your clothes aside.

he shoved his middle and ring finger into your needy cunt. you threw your head back with a moan as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. his fingers curling all in the right places. your hands reached to pull your darling boyfriend even closer, if possible. you were practically a puddle in the palm of his hands, spasming as he increased his speed.

was there a bed in his driver's room? obviously but where's the fun in fucking you that way. plus that bastard would hear it clearly anywhere lando fucked you because of how loud you were being.

"are you gonna come?" he hummed when your moans got louder making you nod pathetically. lando clearly instructed his team to not let anyone come near the driver's room. not that they had any stuff to do there as they were busy in wrapping up things.

he wanted his temporary team mate to hear it all. he wanted the other guy to know that only lando can make sounds out of you like that. sure, it makes him sound like a jealous bastard but how could he not be when some random guy has the audacity to look at his pretty girl so lustfully.

"oh my god," you gasped, cursing under your breathe as you came on his fingers. "you good princess?" lando asks placing gentle kisses on your face. "yeah," you whispered. "think you got a few more?" he leans down, placing tender kisses over your shoulder. lando starts fingering you again as soon he gets a positive sign from you.

he takes out two more orgasms out of you. "just a few more," he mutters as he goes down on his knees. lando laps up at your juices. he lets you be as loud as you wanted to.

"yeah baby be loud. let that fucker hear," he whispered against your clit. his tongue tracing his name on your cunt. your moans grew louder, louder, and louder. "oh gosh i'm gonna──" your words were cut short as you came all over his face. lando wipes you clean, letting you ride out your high.

he gets up, holding you by his own muscles and strengths. "you think you got a last one?" lando asks. you whine into his hold, too tired from the four orgasms. "please baby" he guides your hand to his clothed, hard cock. "feel this? It's just for you." you'd be cruel to deny your precious boyfriend this. plus you were still hungry for his cock. sure his fingers and tongue was great but nothing compared to his cock. "yeah," you nodded making him smile. "thankyou darling," he kissed your forehead.

you squealed when he lifted your leg and threw it over his shoulder, similar to your signature spin you do on ice. the hand on your waist moving to your inner thigh to hold you up. lando got his cock out of his sweatpants and sank it into your cunt making you both moan simultaneously. "that's it, fuck, that's a good girl," he mumbled into your neck, slowly rocking in you. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."

"don't close your eyes, baby. look at me," he orders when your eyes are about to close. "good girl," he praised when you look into his watercoloured eyes. "please mark me, i want everyone to know i'm yours." your words make him smirk. the older man wasted no time in do as you asked him to do.

lando faced you after he was done leaving hickeys on you collarbones. his fingers tipping your chin up, caressing your jaw and his thumb slowly parts your lips, dipping it into your mouth. "that pretty little mouth of yours," he humms. after it was wet enough, he trails his thumb, drowning in your saliva to your clit and starts toying with it making you moan louder. you felt the ache in your legs, not only because of the how good he was fucking you but also from the position he held you in.

despite being a sweet dom, lando surely was a tease. ghosting his lips against yours before pulling back with a smug smirk, making you chase him desperately. when your lips finally met it felt like pure bliss. lando chuckled, fucking you so good that that you were struggling to kiss him back.

your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with his every thrust. "i don’t— i don’t think i can last any longer, fuck, please—" you whimpered. "gonna cum? go ahead, cum all over me baby," he ordered. and you did just that, your cum splattering all over his dick. lando gave in a few thrusts, chasing his high before finishing inside of you.

he lets your leg down. "you did so good for me darling," he says as curled up into you. he rubbed your back, placing soft and tender kisses to your collarbones and face. he lifted your chin to make you look at him. "let's get you all cleaned up?" he hummed before placing small pecks on your lips.

lando quickly washed you up, helping you get dressed into the same clothes he stripped you out of. finally, getting out of his driver's room you still clung to his side. you were too busy talking about what you wanted to eat to notice lando swiftly unlocking his temporary team mates driver's room from the outside. letting the trapped man out. "sounds good honey," he replied when you said you wanted a cheesecake.

#lando norris #f1 #formula one #ln4 #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #ln4 smut #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #lando smut

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pinkyqily · 19 hours ago

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TWO HOOLIGANS INLOVE | JuJu watkins x teammate!reader

Summary: Just you and juju acting foolishly in front of the press

Warning: fluff, use of yn a few times

A/n: This isn't accurate to the actually games so don't bite me, fic is apart of my new series called hooligans inlove this isn't the first part so watch out for that, if you have any juju requests send em my way if you have any feedbacks feel free to leave them happy reading readers 🌹

Usc had just won the game against uconn. You, juju, and Ray had been called for media. After a phenomenal performance from the three of you.

coach knew it was going to be crazy having you and juju up there, but with Ray too, she could only hope y'all would be on your best behavior.

"Now, before you guys head up there, I need you to be on your best behaviors. She told all three of you, "Come on, coach me and yn are good, juju just the problem here." Ray told coach while sending diggers towards juju way

"There's no way I'm getting blamed right now." JuJu yelled, losing her so-called nonchalant chil.

"Can we get going already? No one has time for you two idoits arguing." You told the two girls as you make your way to the conference room." Bro, hold on." You didn't have to turn your head around hearing your annoying girlfriend and teammate calling you, bro.

"Who are you calling bro Judea?". You said out as you stopped in your tracks, staring at juju with your arms crossed around your chest. Ray voice Intervene swinging her arms around you and juju.

"Come on guys, let's not argue."

"If she calls me bro one more time, it gonna end up with more than an argument." You told them both. JuJu, who knew what was best for her, stopped calling you bro but couldn't wipe away the stupid smirk on her face as you guys sat down.

The press was going well Juju and Ray made a few jokes here and there when answering questions until it was your turn to answer some Juju had decided now was the perfect time to be distracting you.

Anytime you got a question she would turn her whole head and body towards you as she looked deep in your eyes not taking off contact.

"So what do you think about this win against uconn and how we're you guys able to come back from previous games?" A reporter asked directing the question to you.

"Um the win was definitely a hard fought and we definitely brought in our all I think we're able to learn from our previous game against,

them on what to do and not to do-.you stopped mid sentence to say, "ju can you stop staring at me like your life depends on it." You told the girl as you guys secretly held hands under the table.

"I'm doing no such thing." She said after looking away.

"Whatever." You told her, but this time yanking your hand away from hers under the table only for her to grab it back

"Can y'all stop wasting the people's time?" Ray spoke up with a slight teasing tone, she was stuck sitting in the middle of two drunk inlove players while it was entertaining she didn't want to be no 3rd wheel

"Um, sorry for that interruption." cough cough as you did that while side eying juju.

"One last question for juju, what did you think of yn performance today and how she contributed to the team performance wise".

"I think that her performance today was topnotch, probably one of her best, she contributed a lot by getting really involved with defense and offensive if I can say so myself she brings a lot to the team when she can".

You found yourself starring back into juju eyes as she spoke there was always something about her that made you feel all warm inside you couldn't tell if it was because you haven't let her hand go or something else.

It felt like only you two were in the room, and that's until Ray voice brought you back to earth. "I think you both got staring problems at this point." She told you as the room erupt with laughter.

Anyone in there could sense the growing tension between you and juju. From the way you both spoke about each other to the not so subtle touches, anyone could tell you're both madly in love.

You guys got up heading back to the rest of them, team.

"Ugh, I can already see the edits coming about you two so nasty." Ray told y'all as she made a gaging sound.

"Oh please, they aren't that bad". You told her

"Not bad, juju was basically undressing you with her eyes, and you sat there eating it up."

"Not my fault that my girl a baddie." JuJu said as her hand brushed against yours. It was little things like this that got you worked up, and she knew it.

"At least I've been promoted from bro to my girl." You told both girls making them laugh.

Before you knew it, clips from the press were already going viral.

Some people called juju whipped sum saying, "You we're complaining even though you were down bad for juju too, people fighting about you guys being gf while others disagree and say you're a couple."

#juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins x teammate reader #juju watkins imagine #wbb #usc women’s basketball #usc wbb x reader #wbb x reader #wbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb fanfics #wbb imagine #ncaa wbb #usc trojans #usc wbb #wbb oneshot #wbb fanfiction #wbb fluff

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kxtsukixoxo · 2 days ago

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pro!hero dynamight is known for his explosive nature, fans second guessing if they should really approach the hothead. is it really surprising when you aren’t scared of him?

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 ᥫ᭡ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩 ᥫ᭡ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢 -

“did you even listen to what i just said?!”

Sero slapped him on his arm, trying to get his attention off his phone. “SOMEBODY TAKE HIS PHONE AWAY” Mina screamed “HEY WATCH IT PINK STUFF” Katsuki screamed back at Mina. “WE FINALLY GET TO SIT DOWN TOGETHER AFTER MONTHS OF ENDLESS HERO WORK AND YOURE ON YOUR PHONE??” he had nothing to excuse that. the blonde huffed and crossed his arms, as Sero spoke on end about a UA reunion, he’d prefer talking to you more than this.

“aw Mina you’ve got the guy all bummed out now” Kirishima called out from the other end of the table, paying attention to Katsuki’s sulking face “you pulled him away from his girlfriend!!” Denki dragged on the word ‘girlfriend’ teasingly, Katsuki picked up his hand threateningly, about to smack the daylight out of Denki, causing Denki to grab Mina as a shield “HEY!!”

“CUT IT OUT YOU TWO!!” Sero facepalmed himself, “can we take this reunion seriously? we’re finally seeing everyone outside of our hero work for the first time in ages”

“i agree with Sero! we’ve only seen each other while teaming up against villains, we need to make this fun!” the pink haired girl squealed

Katsuki, wasn’t paying attention, one arm hoisted onto the table to rest his head on his hand while the other held his phone underneath the table to text you. the man had a soft spot for you, it was undeniable. his friends knew it the second he’d smile the moment his phone lit up, questioning if their eyes were decieving them as the man grinned while he replied to you. you two were already on first name basis, talking whenever you could despite his busy schedule. Katsuki told his friends you two were just friends

“are you trying to convince us or yourself bro?”

he glared at Denki, forcing the boy to retreat out of pure fear, before he’d get shot into another oblivion. everybody soon picked up that you were a sensitive topic, choosing to just watch in awe at this newfound nature of their normally violent friend. he tried to prioritise his work over you, but he found himself replying to you inbetween patrols. it was a bad habit, but he couldn’t help himself. he felt like he couldn’t get enough of you. Katsuki felt the acid in his stomach bubble up everytime you took too long to reply, or mentioned a guy at your workplace.

your friend gawked as you told her about your little friendship with the pro hero, aware about how disgustingly educated you were about him, and figured you’d knocked your head and had a dream that you somehow believed was reality. but to her dismay, no. you were very much seriously experiencing this, the pro hero Dynamight, in THE flesh couldn’t stop texting you.

“if things get serious, you do realise you’re gonna have to tell him about…ya’know?”

you watched as she swirled her drink around, before taking a sip. you bit the inside of your cheek,

“right…”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 -

@rinkomei

#bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x you #dynamight #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo

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futbolfatale · 10 hours ago

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Origin Story

Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi León/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader,

Summary: You get invited to a Barca game by an Alpha at your school who wouldn't accept.

Tags/Warnings: Dubious consent, Bathroom sex, scent marking,

Note: Only is Mapi the only one in this but there will probs be a part 2 with the rest of the pack.

The only reason I've been writing lately is @insomniakisses who definitely doesn't know I exist but I love their blog.

Something about their writing has inspired me for better or worse.

Wordcount: 1.1K

When you got invited to the Barca vs Real Madrid Game by a girl at your college of course you accepted. She was in a couple of your classes but all you knew about her is that she is an alpha and is kind of a dick. But you would be crazy not to know how expensive tickets are and surely she can’t be as bad as everyone says. But this girl surely has another motive for inviting you. It will come to light soon as you sit next to each other in the crowded stadium. Her scent is aggressive forward and fills the space around you it's almost like Lily and maybe an undertone of patchouli. Overall not the best when you're already surrounded by unfamiliar scents.

You can’t help but grow excited as they walk out. Okay, so you may have a major crush on some of the players. By some you mean most but it makes since it’s pretty common knowledge that the different teams are packs. Which makes transfers even more devastating. Even so, everyone knows that Barca has two omegas already which is already more than most other packs. They differently don’t need another which is devastating to you but it's not like you could ever be with them anyway. It’s rare for a Futbal pack to mate with someone outside of the football world.

It’s around 20 minutes in before Maddie, whose name you’ve just learned, takes off her sweater revealing that she is wearing a Real Madrid jersey. “Are you seriously wearing that right now?” You ask incredulously. “Ya Real Madrid is going to win, I promise you. They are the superior team,” she responded as if you were stupid for thinking any different. “Barca is definitely better, they have a stacked roster.” You argue back, growing more annoyed. Most likely due to her attitude problem and overwhelming scent. “Real Madrid will win” She seems so assured of herself as if she can already see the outcome of the game. “That's never going to happen. I bet you Barca will win and If they don’t I will write your next essay for you.”. “Deal”

It's not even 10 minutes later that Hansen scores and you're left with a smile on your face. It’s a good feeling to know your rights. Maybe you’ll pick up a sweet treat on the way home. You deserve it after dealing with this idiot. But it's all worth it for free tickets. “I told you” You gloat but only a little. “They're going to pull through one goal doesn’t mean anything,” Maddie responds sharpley her scent turning sour. “One goal can be the difference between winning and losing” You count to praud her mostly for your amusement. “ You think I don’t know that. I know football better than you.” She growls her fangs obvious in her aggressive state. So maybe you fucked with her a little too much but god it was so funny. “Sorry,” You startle as Pajor scores. You definitely made the right choice when picking a team to support.

By the end of the game, you are bursting with excitement a 5-0 win is crazy. You can feel Maddie seething beside you but it doesn’t sour your mood. As you move to stand at the barricade watching the players trade jerseys and such. Then Mapi Leon comes to your section and you're practically vibrating as she strips off her jersey. She walks closer to you her scent is so strong probably from running for so long. “ Would you like it?” She asks looking directly into your eyes. It's like a shock to your system “Yes” You take it from her gratefully and she flashes a toothy grin. “You so pretty princess” Her voice is so low. “Thank you” You can’t help but blush as she sprints off to join her team.

You gather up your things and walk out of the stadium with Maddie. You are starting to feel overheated and are growing quickly annoyed by Maddie. Her mood has only seemed to worsen since the end of the game. The heated feeling only grows as you move through the stadium. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we leave.” You split off from Maddie not waiting to hear her response. You have all your things if she leaves you it won’t be the end of the world. You slip into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath of the jersey. It smells strongly of citrus and has an undertone of cinnamon. It soothes some of the heat under your skin.

You startle as the bathroom opens and someone else steps inside. It takes a moment for their scent to register. Citrus and cinnamon same as the jersey. You open the stall door and peek out to see Mapi standing by the door looking directly at you. “I thought I could smell you in here” She hurried towards you and pushed you back into the stall. “What are you doing” You ask dropping the jersey as she grabs your wrist. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You smell so good” She nuzzles her face into your neck. “Let me have you please” She whispers her accent thicker than before. “You want me but you have Ona if you want an omega” You reason. Sure you want this but you want her to think clearly. “I can and have had Ona but I want you. Once I have had you im sure they will want you as well.” she pushes you into the wall and slides a hand down your pants. Her fingers trace along your cunt through your underwear. “Say yes please I need you” She whimpers into your shoulder tonguing at your scent gland. “Yes. Yes please” you moan rolling your hips against her hand. She slides her fingers past your underwear to rub at your clit. ‘Take me please I need it too bad.”You moan grinding against her. “Shh you can have it see” she slips two fingers inside you with ease. It makes you uncomfotbly aware of how slick you are. It only last a second before shes distracting you by moving her fingers and using her other hand to rub at you clit.

You cum twice before Mapi finally lets up. As you catch you breath she is collecting your things and straightening out your clothes and hair. “ Come with me we are having dinner tonight. Please,” she asks tacting on the please almost as an afterthought. “I'll go but I've got school tomorrow and I really can’t afford to miss any more of my lectures this semester.” You explain as the two of you head out of the stall. Mapi stops to wash her hands before leading you out of the stadium.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #woso one shot #woso #mapi león #mapi leon x reader

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fallinallincurls · 10 hours ago

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Miles Away, I've Always Loved You

this is my entry for the 2025 winter fic exchange hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston!! thank you as always for hosting!

my fic is for @writingonleaves! i had lots of fun writing this one and really hope you love it just as much.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 5.1k

The knock on the door startles Reagan out of her thoughts. She had been mentally trying to figure out how to organize the bookshelf in her living room now that it’s been built.

The apartment is still mostly a mess. The move to Vancouver had been circled on her calendar for months, but Reagan knew the worst part about moving cross country completely by herself would be the unpacking and setting up of a new place. And so far, she’s been right.

From putting together all the furniture on her own, opening and emptying box after box and feeling that same exhaustion hit her every few hours, the move has been an insane amount of work to say the least. But she couldn’t be happier knowing that she moved to this city that she’s still a little familiar with for the job of her dreams. That alone makes everything worth it.

There’s another knock at the door and Reagan lets out a deep sigh. She’s not expecting someone as no one in the city knows who she is since she just arrived three days ago. She abandons the stacks of books on the floor and heads to the door, wondering who could possibly be on the other side.

Without bothering to look through the peephole, which might’ve been a mistake, Reagan swings open the door to reveal a man she’s never seen before. He looks just a little older than her 25 years of age, has a big smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and his hair is neatly styled. Before she can even open her mouth to say anything, he’s already speaking.

“Oh, hey!” He says with an element of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know Cap had a girl, but I’m new here so I'm still trying to learn all of that, you know?”

She doesn’t know in fact because she has no idea what he’s talking about and the confusion must be evident on Reagan’s face because he continues talking in effort to explain.

“Um, I’m here for the team dinner? Apparently it’s tradition here for the captain to host everyone before training camp starts and so I brought this,” he shows you a bottle of expensive wine and then a container of store bought cookies, “and these.”

Everything the stranger standing in front of her has said only made the situation more odd. Team dinner? Tradition? He clearly mixed up numbers and is at the wrong apartment.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, but is almost immediately cut off when another voice calls out from down the hallway.

“Jake!”

The man turns towards the voice and a look of recognition passes over his face as his smile seemingly becomes brighter at the sight of whoever said his name.

“Q!” He says brightly, before returning his attention to her. “I’m sorry, I must’ve mixed up the apartment numbers.”

“It’s no problem.” Reagan reassures him before he waves a goodbye and starts heading to the apartment next to hers. The curiosity gets the better of her and she glances over to see who “Q” was and that’s when everything comes to a halt.

Because Q, or cap as Jake also called him, is Quinn Hughes. Her ex-boyfriend. The love of her life. And now, apparently, her next door neighbor.

Quinn must have sensed another pair of eyes on him because he looks over and meets her gaze. A look of disbelief crosses over his face for a split second, his brows furrowed in confusion as he realizes who his teammate bothered in the mixup.

“Reagan?”

It might have been two years since the last time she saw him, but hearing her name rolling off his tongue still had the same effect on her as it did then.

“Quinn?” She asks in response, unable to comprehend that he’s standing less than 100 feet away from her. Quinn. Her Quinn.

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, just moved in a few days ago.” Reagan starts to explain and then a rush of worry hits her. “I finally got the job I’ve been waiting for and it just so happened to be here in Vancouver. I had no idea you lived in this building at all,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Quinn says softly, cutting off her rambling. “Congratulations, I know how hard you worked to get through school and do everything you could to get this job.”

“Thank you.” Reagan murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear and nervously dropping her gaze to the floor. All the heartbreak from the last few years has disappeared in the matter of seconds and it almost feels like she’s back there. In a time where they were still together and so in love with each other.

But Reagan knows that’s not her reality anymore. Now, she’s standing in her doorway looking at the man who she gave her heart to all those years ago, but now he’s almost a stranger. Just her neighbor in a new city.

“Uh, I know this is probably unexpected and way too sudden, but do you want to come over for dinner? There’s definitely enough food and everything.”

Reagan feels a wave of surprise wash over her at his offer and even though her heart is screaming to say yes, she knows she can’t accept. At least not right now.

“Thank you for offering, but I’m okay. Still trying to get adjusted and all. Another time?” She replies, trying to push away the want that’s arisen within her. She wants to spend time with him even if she hasn’t seen him in a while and her heart is still a little broken. Quinn nods in understanding, a strand of hair falling perfectly over his forehead, but Reagan sees the familiar look of sadness in his blue green eyes.

A loud yell erupts from inside Quinn’s apartment disrupting the quiet air around the two of them.

“I should probably get back. Almost the entire team is in there and I don’t trust a lot of them by themselves.” Quinn chuckles and Reagan feels a smile tug at her lips. “It was really great to see you. I hope Vancouver treats you well.”

“Thanks, Quinn. Same to you.”

Quinn flashes you a sweet smile before ducking back inside. When the door to his apartment closes behind him, Reagan lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Not only does she have to navigate life in a new city with a new job, but now she has to handle living next to her ex, the man who was her everything, on top of everything else.

The memories that came rushing back the moment she realized it was him standing in the hallway linger in her mind for a little longer. All the shared kisses, big hugs after good and bad games, nights on the porch at the lake house in the offseason, his unwavering support for everything she did, early mornings spent cuddling and so much more.

Reagan knew when they broke up that she would miss him for the rest of her life, but it feels like the wound has been reopened seeing him unexpectedly in person. Of course, she’s kept tabs on him by tuning into a few Canucks games and for a while, Jack was sending her regular life updates but those slowly came to an end.

Her heart aches knowing she is going to have to see him more often now that they’re neighbors. It’s a curveball she never saw coming or even considered when she chose to move to the city that he lives and plays in. But here she is.

With a shake of her head, Reagan clears her mind and pushes open her front door again. There’s relief that the entire interaction is over, both with Quinn and his teammate, but in a strange way, she also misses talking to him already.

Nothing could prepare her for randomly seeing the man she still loved years after he broke her heart.

A few days later, Reagan gets a strong sense of deja vu. She’s attempting to put together the coffee table for the third time, after the first two tries were unsuccessful, when there’s a knock at her door.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as she drops the useless IKEA instructions to the floor. She’s already preparing a little speech in her head in anticipation it’s another one of Quinn’s teammates who got the apartment numbers mixed up again.

“Hey, sorry, Quinn is-“ Reagan starts as the door swings open and reveals the blue green eyed, curly haired hockey player who lives next door. “here?” She finishes, more like a question than a statement.

“Hey,” Quinn says, flashing that soft smile that makes her heart melt. “I, um,” he pauses, almost as if collecting his thoughts to get exactly what he wants to say correct. “I know how hard it is to move to a new place by yourself having done it myself so I wanted to help with anything you need. And I brought breakfast too. Hopefully your usual order hasn’t changed.”

Reagan’s heart swells with adoration, remembering this is the version of Quinn she fell in love with. The kind, thoughtful man who continuously surprised her in ways she never thought possible. And against all odds, here he is again.

She’s stunned into silence for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his offer. It’s genuine and shows he cares even after all this time but allowing him to help means spending time with him, reconnecting, and Reagan doesn’t know if she’s ready for that just yet.

But she also really wants that coffee table to be built. So for right now, the pros outweigh the cons.

“Thank you so much, Quinn. That’s really thoughtful of you and honestly, there are a few things I’ve realized I can’t accomplish by myself no matter how hard I try.”

Quinn’s smiling genuinely now. He can’t believe she’s letting him help despite the fact they haven’t seen each other in a while minus the mixup the other day. But he doesn’t care. This is his opportunity to catch up with her and he’s going to cherish every second.

“That’s why I’m here.” He chuckles in response, handing her the iced coffee and bagel he picked up for her. “Order still the same?” He asks again, more out of curiosity than anything.

“Order’s still the same. I’m more surprised you remembered it.”

Of course he remembers it. He remembers everything about Reagan despite the fact there was a time where he wished he could forget everything about her. He remembers the show she would only watch before bed and the scent of her favorite shampoo. He remembers the feel of her hand in his and the way he always felt so safe with her in his arms. He remembers her go-to lazy dinner and the songs she loved screaming at the top of her lungs in the car.

He remembers it all. But now, Reagan feels like a stranger for so many reasons.

Quinn takes this moment to really look at her. She’s still breathtakingly gorgeous. but he notices her wavy dark brown hair is lighter than he remembers it. Maybe she got highlights or has dyed it since the breakup. There are more freckles scattered across her cheeks than there were when they met. She’s wearing an old oversized Umich shirt that he realizes at the last second might be his. But when her brown eyes meet his, any anxiety he feels about this moment falls away.

This is still Reagan. His Reagan. Yes, it’s been a while but he knows her. She hasn’t changed that much. If she’s letting him help and being friendly, maybe she doesn’t hate him like he always thought she did after the way things ended between them.

“Of course I remember it.” Quinn says with a shrug, trying not to reveal how much he misses her. “So what do you need help with first?” He asks as Reagan waves him into her apartment and closes the door behind him.

Reagan explains her dilemma with the uncooperative coffee table which takes first priority before going through a small list of things she wanted to get done today like unpack her kitchen and finish building her vanity. Quinn nods along to everything she says, seemingly happy to offer his help even if he doesn’t] have to.

“Thank you,” Reagan says softly, the two words holding more meaning than she ever thought could be possible. Quinn gives her a slightly confused look as he sits down on the floor ready to tackle the coffee table. “For everything. You didn’t have to bring breakfast over and offer to help me get settled in considering we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I really do appreciate it.”

“I’d do anything for you, Rea.”

Hearing that one line and the use of the nickname only Quinn has ever used for her sends a shiver through her body. She feels her heart being tugged in his direction again even if it never fully healed from their end years ago, but she desperately tries to keep herself in check. Their relationship came to an end because of him. Quinn wanted to focus solely on hockey and his need to constantly get better on the ice was more important than keeping her in his life.

So she moved on after he broke her heart. Or she thought she did until she saw him the other day. Her feelings have rushed back in no time, like nothing happened in the first place, but Reagan knows better.

“I know,” she murmurs, voice quiet as the wave of emotions hit her. “I’m going to start unpacking the kitchen. Let me know if you need any help. The instructions have been useless.” Quinn chuckles, that adorable sound filling her with a sense of happiness she hasn’t felt in so long. To this day his laugh is still one of her favorite sounds in the whole entire world.

For a good hour or so, the two of them work in comfortable silence. A random playlist Reagan selected is playing from a bluetooth speaker and every once in a while, she hears Quinn curse under his breath. She catches herself smiling a few times, the familiarity of it all bringing back so many memories.

“Reagan?” Quinn tentatively disrupts the quiet as she’s reaching up to place a stack of plates in a cabinet above the kitchen counter.

“Hm?” She hums in response, letting out a sign of relief when she gets the plates on the shelf. Quinn is grinning at the sight of her on her tiptoes trying to reach a higher shelf in her new home. This is something else that hasn’t changed since they were together. She still refuses to use any help to reach higher places despite being small enough that it would be beneficial.

“Coffee table is finished.” He says, pointing over his shoulder when she turns around to look at him. “You weren’t lying about it being difficult, but it’s done.” A look of surprise crosses over her face and something about her right then makes Quinn’s heart ache.

He knows he messed up when he broke it off with her years ago. His head was too stuck on hockey and only hockey. There was an unbearable amount of pressure on his shoulders after being drafted and he felt like he had to not only live up to the expectations, but defy them. And through all that, he lost the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

Reagan.

The woman who showed him unconditional love from the moment they met in college all the way through to the very end. Reagan who was there for every accomplishment and disappointment that happened in his career. The woman who always made sure he knew so many people, including her, were unbelievably proud of him at all times no matter what happened.

He never thought he would get to see her again and somehow here he is in her apartment that’s right next to his in the city that he’s been his second home for the last six years.

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” She laughs, the sound filling Quinn with joy like it always has. “We can tackle the vanity next if you’re up for it. It’s a lot for just one person.”

She leads him into her office where the unopened box is laying on the ground where she envisions the piece of furniture. Without a moment of hesitation, they get started on building the vanity as conversation flows freely. Quinn fills her in on everything going on with the Canucks from new teammates to how he likes being captain. She listens as he recommends some new restaurants and places to check out around the city and she fills him in on how everyone is doing back home in Michigan. Quinn asks about her new job and he can’t hide how proud he is when she tells him she got accepted into the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.

Reagan has been playing the french horn since fourth grade and that’s the entire reason they met in college since Quinn ran into her at a UMich football game when she was part of the marching band. He remembers being struck by how pretty she was then even in the slightly unflattering bright blue and yellow uniform she was wearing with her instrument in hand. Over time as they became friends and eventually got together, Quinn learned her biggest dream was to play in a symphony. It’s difficult to get a seat anywhere, but if anyone could do it, Quinn knew it would be her. Reagan was talented, always has been, and knowing all that hard work finally paid off makes him beyond happy.

And secretly, he’s never been so glad that the music she loves so much brought her to the city he lives in now.

“I was nervous about being accepted. It’s one of the most prestigious symphonies on the West Coast, but I was sick of being in Michigan again even if I do love it there, so I took a chance and it worked out.” Reagan explains shyly, her eyes dropping to her fiddling fingers.

“Hey,” Quinn says, abandoning the half built vanity for a second to take hold of her hands. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve that seat and it’s incredibly brave of you to pack up and move halfway across the continent to live out your dream.”

They both are aware of the unspoken words there. That it was also brave to come back to the city where their love story crashed and burned.

“Thank you, Quinny. That means a lot.” The words are barely out of Reagan’s mouth before Quinn is wrapping his strong arms around her in a tight embrace. She melts into the hug, her head resting on his shoulder and lets the comfort wash over her. Quinn lets out a small sigh of relief. He missed having her in his arms and the feeling of peace that surrounds him is unmistakable.

God, he messed up so bad by letting her go, by ruining the best thing he’s ever had because he thought he couldn’t balance the pressure of being an NHL player and a relationship at the same time.

“Good to know Huggy Bear’s still got it.” Reagan teases him, reluctantly pulling away even if she wants to stay in his arms forever. But she can’t. She’s not that girl for him anymore.

“Yeah, yeah.” Quinn laughs, used to hearing the nickname his teammates gave him years ago when he joined the team. He meets her gaze and it’s then that an idea hits him. Reagan can see the look of hesitation in his blue green eyes, but waits patiently for him to continue. “Whenever you get settled in here and everything, would you maybe want to go skating? I know we used to go all the time and there’s this cool rink downtown you would love, but no pressure if not. I’m sure you’re going to be busy with work and adjusting to a new city.”

Reagan knows she should say no. She knows it would be better to leave the past in the past. But something about the way Quinn asks with pure honesty tugs at her and the small hope that maybe their love could get a second chance after all this time blossoms.

So she says yes.

“I would love that. Just text me when you’re free and we can schedule something.”

Quinn’s happiness at her response is immediately noticeable even though he tries to hide it so it’s not as obvious. The smile Reagan adores so much is on full display and she couldn’t be happier to have him in her half furnished apartment just days after she moved back to the city where her heart was broken.

Before she can get too swept up in the emotions, she gently pushes Quinn’s chest and giggles.

“We’ve got a list of things to do, Hughes. Get back to work.”

And with that, both of them work together to get through all the tasks Reagan wanted accomplished. That familiar sense of peace envelops the apartment and for the first time in a long time, Reagan’s heart isn’t heavy with sadness. Instead, it swells with joy like no other.

Between Quinn’s busy schedule of games, practices and traveling and Reagan’s new work schedule of getting acquainted with the symphony and joining practices of her own, it took a few weeks for them to find a day to go skating together.

But in that time, a constant stream of texts were exchanged and phone calls were made whether Quinn was next door or on the road. Reagan learned all about what happened in Quinn’s life for the two years she wasn’t part of it and heard so many stories of his teammates and his brothers, who she also missed since she hadn’t spoken to either of them since the breakup.

Quinn got a glimpse into who Reagan is now and if possible, he feels himself falling even harder for her all over again. His feelings never truly went away but every time he heard her laugh or she shared a secret, he knew that even after all that time, this girl is still the one he wants.

Finally, the agreed upon Sunday arrives and Quinn’s quiet, but strong knock sounds through Reagan’s apartment as she pulls a beanie on her head.

“Coming!” She yells, almost tripping on her way to the door. She’s nervous and excited all at once. When the door swings open, Reagan’s breath is stolen away for a second as Quinn stands in front of her looking extra cozy and comfy bundled up for the cold. His eyes are alight with wonder and his somewhat wild brown curls are peeking out from under his favorite navy blue beanie. He has a hoodie on under his winter jacket and there’s the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey, Rea,” Quinn greets her with a bright smile. The old nickname still sends a jolt of happiness through her veins even though he’s used it frequently over the last few weeks and she can’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the two of them going skating together, but there is a sense of something more in the air and if there’s even a chance Quinn wants to give their relationship another chance, Reagan is all in. She can tell he’s grown and matured in the time they’ve spent apart and if she didn’t see that, it would be much easier to ignore the feelings she has for him.

“Hey!” She replies, giving him a quick hug. Quinn is a little surprised, but welcomes the embrace for a moment before she pulls away and starts speaking in excitement. “Don’t worry about skates for me, I still use my favorite pair,” Reagan lifts her white pair of Bauer skates up and then glances at her warm, but cute winter outfit, “and I’m dressed for the weather since you said the rink is outside.”

“You’re all prepared,” Quinn chuckles, “Let’s go then.” He says almost sheepishly like he’s nervous all of the sudden, and reaches for her hand. Reagan intertwines her gloved fingers with his and offers him a reassuring smile to silently say “this is okay.” The rink is just a few blocks away from their shared apartment building so the walk over is cold, but brief and full of laughter and conversation between the two of them.

Reagan catches a glimpse of the rink when Quinn stops walking at the opening of a large clearing and her heart starts racing.

They are at Robson Square Ice Rink. The prettiest rink in all of Vancouver in Reagan’s opinion, but it’s also her favorite and was dubbed her and Quinn’s spot when they were dating.

“Quinn,” Reagan breathes out in disbelief. She doesn’t need to say anything else, Quinn can read all the emotions on her face. He squeezes her hand in reassurance while flashing her a sweet smile before leading her to the benches to help put her skates on.

“Come on,” He murmurs and Reagan swallows down the emotions in an effort to take in every detail of this moment. She immediately starts unlacing her skates when they claim a spot on the bench, but Quinn insists on doing it himself.

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“I know,” Quinn replies cheekily. “But you deserve to be taken care of so let me do it even if it’s just this one time.” Reagan sighs, in pure dramatics, which makes Quinn chuckle but her heart is warm and fuzzy. This is why she fell in love with him in the first place. He’s the most caring person she knows and would do anything for her. That much clearly hasn’t changed.

Reagan keeps her eyes on Quinn as he ties her skates perfectly until he taps the heel of her right skate to signal that she’s good to go and freezes. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until it hits her.

Quinn got these skates for her years ago. They were her first pair and one of the best gifts she has ever received. But after taking them out for a few spins, she noticed that he had them customized. There was a little blue 43 printed onto the outside of the heel on her right skate which is exactly what Quinn is staring at right now.

“It’s still there.” He says quietly, tracing the two numbers before meeting Reagan’s eyes. It’s almost as if he expected her to cover the numbers up herself after the breakup and although she was angry about how everything happened, these skates are a reminder of the blissful beginning and she wanted that to remain untouched.

“Of course it is.” And just like earlier, this feels as if the simple moment holds a double meaning. As if that tiny 43 is a sign of hope for Quinn that he might get a second chance. That there’s still a spot for him in Reagan’s heart.

They share soft smiles and sit in the comfortable silence for a moment as Quinn puts his skates on. When Quinn takes her hand to help her onto the ice, Reagan lets herself be fully present. Months ago she never thought about reconnecting with the man who broke her heart, but now she couldn’t be happier that they’re friends again. She missed him beyond words.

It took a few laps around the rink to get her footing back, but once she did, she was challenging Quinn to races and constantly giggling as he tried to distract her from skating smoothly. Despite being one of the most well recognized people in the entire city of Vancouver, no one bothered Quinn on the public outdoor rink even if a few of the younger kids kept a watchful eye on him as if they recognized the captain of their favorite hockey team.

“How is it so far?” Quinn asks out of the blue as the two of them are skating at a leisurely pace. Reagan takes in the city skyline around them before meeting his gaze.

“Skating? Good! I always forget how fun it is and-”

“No,” he gently cuts you off and shakes his head, “I mean living in Vancouver. I know it’s been a huge adjustment for you.”

“Oh,” Reagan says in realization, taking a moment to think. “It’s been way better than I expected, honestly.” Quinn raises his eyebrows in surprise as an adorable smile blossoms across his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah and I have a sneaky feeling you already know you’re a big part of why that is, Quinny.” His cheeks become pink with blush and he looks down briefly before stopping the two of you for a second.

“Have you ever thought of giving us a second chance?”

The question is like a punch to the gut. Not only because Reagan never saw it coming, but it is exactly what she’s thought of asking Quinn herself a thousand times.

Has she thought of giving them another chance? Yes. Every single day she wonders what it would be like to be his girlfriend again. To allow herself to feel the overwhelming love she has for the oldest Hughes brother. To feel at home again because he’s back in her life. And Reagan has come to realize that she wants a second chance with Quinn more than anything.

He’s proven that he has grown and matured from the man he was years ago when he shattered her heart into a million pieces. He’s shown that her life and her dreams are just as important and he’ll do anything he can to support her every single day. His love has been on display since the first moment she saw him in the hallway of their apartment building weeks ago.

“Yes. Every single day.” Reagan responds with nothing but pure honesty.

“Me too.” Quinn almost whispers, trying not to let his nerves show. He’s biting his lip, a nervous habit of his that hasn’t disappeared. “Uh, you can say no if you’re not ready or anything, but would you like to go out with me? On a proper first date? Again?”

Instantly, a beaming smile is on Reagan’s face as his words process in her mind. It’s happening. Something she’s dreamed of for so long, it’s real.

“I’d love that, Quinn.” She hugs him tight, relishing in the joy rushing through her veins. Nothing could make this moment any better and when Quinn kisses her temple, also feeling the happiest he’s been in a long time, everything in the world feels right again.

#winter fic exchange 2k25 #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fics #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #nhl fic #nhl imagine #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hughes brothers #quinn hughes x oc

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rhiannonsknife · 2 days ago

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hii!! i know you are busy with the but im a cheerleader nat fic, but do you think you might maybe write more for Lottie?

also thoughts on meangirl Lottie.. i feel like when she first meets someone she can be a little guarded, wanting to keep her image so when you call her out on her bs she feels attacked and then starts a rivalry between the two.. anyways to summarise meanlottie tension with the new girl on the team when Lottie takes it too far and says something really mean at a party and new girl storms off but Lottie finds her and shows her how much she DOESNT hate her because shes actually a softie but she kind of treats new girl as a punching bag bc shes new and called her out

Im genuinely so sorry if this doesnt make sense i am so bad at explaining but i have a vision i swear😔

🫎 anon :)

i love this idea so much 🫎 anon!! hopefully i got your vision here!!

lottie matthews, you should’ve realized sooner, is untouchable.

at least, that’s how she wants people to perceive her.

everyone on the team knows better than to test lottie; even jackie, the whs’ golden girl in her own right, lets her have her moments.

you, on the other hand? you’re new. maybe that’s why you didn’t seem to get the memo right from the beginning.

it starts small enough: a subtle jab at practice, a teasing remark about your form, the kind of thing that could be dismissed as playful banter if not for the smug tone in lottie’s voice. and then there are the looks: the way her dark eyes flick over you during drills, sizing you up for reasons you can’t seem to wrap your head around.

it doesn’t take long for you to call her out.

“got something to say, matthews?” you ask one day, sharp enough to draw a few surprised glances from your teammates.

for a second, lottie looks genuinely caught off guard. and then her mask slips back into place, her lips curving into that insufferably confident smile. “i’m just looking out for the team,” she says. “can’t have the new girl slowing us down.”

from that moment on, it’s war between you.

lottie calls you out for each fumbled pass in practice. in the locker room, she’s leaning against the row of lockers closest to yours, waiting for you to pass to call out a snarky comment. and even during team meetings, when you make a suggestion about changing up a play, lottie scoffs. “sure,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “let’s just toss out what’s been working because you think you know better!”

things only reach a breaking point weeks later, at one of the parties.

you don’t even remember what starts it: some offhand comment about your outfit, maybe, or the way you’ve been talking to nat a little too long for lottie’s liking. either way, her words hit harder this time, meaner than usual.

“god, you’re so desperate to fit in,” she says suddenly “it’s pathetic!”

the words land like a slap, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

for a second, all you can do is stare at her, your chest tight and your pulse pounding in your ears. lottie doesn’t look away. she stands her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.

nat shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t intervene. no one does.

you don’t trust yourself to speak, not when your voice feels like it might crack and give her the satisfaction she’s so clearly looking for. instead, you turn on your heel and push through the crowd, ignoring the whispers as you walk out.

lottie finds you a little while later, sitting on the back steps of the house with your head in your hands. you don’t hear her approach until she’s right beside you and says: “i shouldn’t have said that,”

you flinch, whipping around to face her. “what do you want, lottie?” you snap. “haven’t you done enough for one night?”

her usually upright posture falters as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze flicking between you and the ground. “i didn’t mean it,” lottie says, quieter this time. “i just…i don’t know.” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you get under my skin!”

you let out a bitter laugh. “glad i could be of service then”

“that’s not-” lottie cuts herself off. “i’m not good at this, okay? you called me out, and i didn’t know how to deal with it, so i pushed back. too hard. i know that.”

when you look up, you’re surprised to see something raw in her expression. regret.

“i don’t hate you,” she says finally, her voice soft but insistent. “i don’t even think i dislike you, if i’m being honest. i just…i don’t know how to handle you!”

before you can respond, lottie crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. “you’re not pathetic,” she murmurs. “far from it. and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you were!”

you’re unsure how to process the vulnerability she’s laying bare. this isn’t the untouchable, put-together lottie you’ve come to know. this is someone softer, someone who’s trying, even if she doesn’t quite know how.

lottie seems to take your lack of an answer as a bad sign, her lips pressing into a thin line. “let me make it up to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

#lottie matthews Ღ #🫎 anon #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x female reader #lottie matthews x fem!reader #lottie matthews x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you

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finelinevogue · 15 hours ago

Note

Hi babe! I absolutely love your work and read it everyday! Do you think you could do a blurb where its aaron x bau reader and the reader has a toxic/abusive family and hotch and the team find out about it on a case or something (angst but turns into fluff)? I LOVE YOUUU!!!

family is everything

hiya my lovely!! love you too :(( oh stop you’re far too kind omg 🥺 of course i can give this a go - hurt/comfort fics >>>

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

word count - +5.4k

cw: pre-established relationship, bad coping methods, mentions of childhood abuse, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Spencer was performing one of his magic tricks.

He had captivated the audience of more than half of the room, much to Hotch’s dismay.

“And this gets you girls?” Morgan questioned, perched on the corner of the desk adjacent to Spencer - which happened to be yours. “How?!”

You laughed along with the others as you spun yourself side-to-side in your office chair.

“It’s all in the mystery, my sweet one.” Garcia pinched Morgan’s cheeks. She was the only one who could get away with it.

“Oh I can do mystery.” Morgan added.

“But can you do… magic?” Reid asked as he ended the magic trick by holding out the correct card that Morgan had picked earlier.

“What?!”

“Yes Reid!”

“Pfft.. Whatever.”

Everyone started clearing away from Spencer’s desk, Morgan walking away with a sulk. Garcia lingered by Morgan’s desk no doubt attempting to cheer him up with her endless flirting.

When you’d joined the BAU you had seriously thought they were together.

Why wouldn’t you?

They constantly flirt. They’re almost crude with each other. Yet they had never even entertained the idea of being with each other.

It didn’t matter to you whether they were single or not though, because your heart was slowly being given over to someone else. Someone who happened to be your Unit Chief; Aaron Hotchner.

The relationship was still very new.

Your team knew about it, but it was still being kept quiet. That was just you and Aaron, though. You didn’t feel the need to be flashy with your relationship. In fact, you enjoyed living with each other in those quieter moments because it meant you had each other all to yourself.

It was that moment that you found yourself looking up to his office.

Aaron happened to walk out of his office at that exact moment, reading a case file in his hands.

You bit down on the pen you were holding as you watched him walk past, eyeing him up because you could now without consequence.

Aaron didn’t return the look but you did notice the smirk as he walked down the ramp towards the briefing room. It was like he could tell that you were looking at him. That made you smile, turning around in your chair to hide the blush from anyone.

"Think we've got a case?" Reid asked you.

"Probably. It's been at least two days since our last."

Both you and Reid stand up, prompting the others on your team to do the same. You as a team of profilers had gotten so used to what it looked like before a case was briefed that you just knew now, before JJ could even call you in.

JJ, Hotch and Rossi are all in the room already.

The case files were set out on the table - one at each seat. JJ had the screen set up ready to present and Hotch and Rossi were already looking through their files.

You sat down on the chair next to Hotch. They had kind of become your unofficial assigned seats.

"Okay JJ." Hotch nodded.

"We got a call from San Fransisco Police Department after a string of murders have been loosely tied together."

"Loosely?" Emily questioned.

"Several domestic abuse victims have been found murdered. Isla Hubert was strangled, Beth Fountain stabbed and Meredith Cole shot."

JJ flicked through the pictures of the women and you could feel your face go pale at the sight.

Your breathing hitched, but luckily nobody noticed.

Your hands scrunched up into fists so tight that your nails were digging into the skin of your palm. It was the only way to cope with this situation without drawing attention to yourself.

You focused as much on JJ presenting as possible.

"At first it was hard for the police to put them together since M.O.s were so different with each murder - hence, loosely - but after they looked more closely it turns out that each of the victims had recently left an abusive relationship."

"Suggests a possible revenge-motivated unsub." Reid added.

"Yeah." JJ nodded.

"How did the PD make the connection?" Morgan asked.

"All of the victims were women who had either filed restraining orders and, or had sought help from a domestic violence shelter." JJ switched the image on the screen to the shelter.

You looked down at your lap, your fists still enclosed.

You were normally very collected when cases were presented, but it was really hard with this one.

Not only is San Fransisco the city you grew up in, it also hosted that very domestic violence shelter that you used to go to every day.

It made you feel sick, because had this unsub been around ten years ago then that could have very well been you up there on the presenting screen.

<.><.>

You were gathering your stuff up on your desk when Aaron came over to you.

"Hey." You tried to smile but Aaron knew you better.

"Something's bothering you, so rather than have me tiptoeing around it I'm asking you to tell me what's wrong."

He sure doesn't beat around the bush.

Even though this case is horrendous for you, it did warm your heart a little to know that Aaron knew you so well only after a couple months of dating. Maybe it was the profiler in him, but you chose to believe it was simply because he cared about you.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Every man should know that when a woman says she's fine... she's not. Aaron did know that but he also knew not to push it right now.

"Okay."

After you stuffed your water bottle in your bag, Aaron caught your hand with his. He carefully opened your palm. You could feel the panic in your chest as he did so.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

He pointed out the crescent moon shapes you'd imprinted on your palms from your finger nails. He wiped his thumb over the skin as if they would magically just disappear. He probably wanted to kiss over them, but you knew he'd never do that in front of everyone here.

You couldn't answer verbally so you nodded your head instead.

<.><.>

Rossi and Hotch were the last in the room before leaving.

They both left and locked their offices at the same time. Both of them had their coat and bag hanging off an arm.

"Hotch."

"Yeah?"

"Y/N..."

"I know." Hotch cut his friend off before he could finish the sentence, already having an inkling of what he was going to say and not knowing whether her could stomach hearing it being said out loud.

<.><.>

On the plane there was more time for a brief.

You were sat leaning against a window at the table with four chairs, listening carefully to what was being said but making no effort to contribute.

"So there were no signs of sexual assault?" Emily asked.

"No." JJ shook her head.

"Well that eliminates some motives." Rossi said.

"Such as?" Garcia asked through the video call.

"Well we know he's not a sexual sadist now. It's almost like whatever he is doing is because he believes it's right. It's the only way." Reid explained.

You swallowed back the growing lump in the back of your throat as the team continued to talk.

The situation almost felt dissociative. You were physically here and physically involved and yet your brain kept trying to zone out of the conversation.

You looked out the window just as a memory flashed.

You laid on the floor of your bedroom - a room that was supposed to be yours and supposed to be safe. You had been sleeping when he had come in.

The door was wide open because you hadn't found the strength to stand back up again since he'd been in.

Your pyjamas were long length and yet you felt completely exposed. Tears fell down your cheeks as you stared up at the glowing stars on your ceiling, imagining a world where you could visit them right now. A world that was a little more silent and a little bit brighter.

All you could hear though was his voice saying, "I have to. It's the only way you'll ever learn."

"...And Y/N and Reid, you work on the geographical profile. Hopefully we can narrow down where these victims are being taken from." Hotch's voice brought you back from the memory.

You had clearly missed a lot of the conversation but no one pointed that out for the rest of the flight.

<.><.>

San Fransisco was just as dull as you remember it.

A lot of people who lived here, commuted through here or even visited here would think quite the opposite, but when a bad thing has happened to you in a certain place then that place becomes unworthy of its beauty.

As you continued to get set up in the police station Hotch asked you to step aside for a minute to talk to him.

You both stood in the cold and dark interrogation room so you could speak privately.

Your arms were folded over your body defensively as you stood waiting for Hotch to talk.

"Y/N, if this case it too much for you then..."

"Too much?" You chuckled, "Why would it be too much for me?"

Hotch sighed, "I don't know."

"Exactly Agent Hotchner, you don't know." You uncrossed your arms and walked towards the door - done with this conversation.

Aaron knew not to touch you in order to catch your attention, so instead he stepped in front of the door so you had no exit.

"Hey, don't do that." He said softly and you knew he was referring to the way you had called his name.

He had never really been Agent Hotchner, or SSA Hotchner, to you. He'd only been Aaron or recently in the quiet of your homes it had turned into a loving 'honey' or 'love'.

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you had put there.

"I'm fine." You repeated, feeling like you might be sick over saying those words again and again.

You thought you truly had been fine.

For the longest time all of this had been buried deep within you. Your job was so busy and hectic that you never really had the opportunity to think about your past. You had also been fortunate that there had been no domestic abuse cases so far in your year working for the BAU.

Yet it was all flooding back now you did have this case. Your mind was constantly active with the haunted memories of your past.

Memories that you were too afraid to speak out loud.

"Okay, but if I think for a moment that you aren't capable I will pull you from this case." Hotch said seriously. He was done playing nice.

"That won't be necessary. I am more than capable."

Hotch looked at you for a moment and saw the challenge in your eyes. However, he could also see the emotion deep within them like there was a part of you that was screaming to be let out.

"Morgan and I are going to the women's shelter. You and Emily can interview the families of the victims."

Your heart stopped a little. You're sure that your eyes must have given you away as you lost eye contact with Hotch to try and keep composure.

"I thought I was with Reid?" You asked.

"Not anymore. Families are coming in in half an hour." He said before leaving the room, leaving you in there with the door open.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself.

You wiped under your eyes before any tears could run. Messy mascara wasn't something you wanted to explain today. You let out a shaky breath, trying to not let it sound too loud. The last thing you wanted was to attract unnecessary attention.

You were fine, after all.

<.><.>

"Mr and Mrs Cole. Thank you for being here." Emily started off the interview.

Mrs Cole was crying. Mr Cole was not.

In your eyes that told you everything you needed to know. Unfortunately you couldn't claim you knew anything without sufficient evidence. Evidence that the team was looking for now.

"I can't believe my baby is gone." Mrs Cole cried, sniffling into a tissue that you had provided for her.

"I know this is hard Mrs Cole," You said, empathising with her more than she could know, "But if you could both help us answer some questions it could be really helpful in helping find out who did this to your daughter."

"Okay." She nodded.

"What kind of person was Meredith growing up?" Emily asked, wanting to know what kind of childhood Meredith had.

"She was always so bright. She just wanted to be happy." Mrs Cole answered shakily.

Mr Cole scoffed and looked off to the side.

"Something to add Mr Cole?" Emily prompted.

"What my wife means to say is, Meredith was difficult."

Your mind alerted you then. You knew what was meant for a daughter who was deemed as difficult by her father.

Your fingers clenched to dig your nails into your palm but the second you did Aaron's face came across your view.

"I will stop asking you if you're okay, if you stop doing this."

You could still feel the brush of his thumb across your skin. His warms hands against your cold ones. His soft touch the lightest you had ever felt from a man.

Your hand unclenched, resting them on the table instead.

Emily had been carefully watching you, having been asked by Hotch to keep on eye on you. Your near slip-up didn't cause any interruption to the interview and Emily took the lead to continue.

"We understand that Meredith recently left her relationship with Adam. Do you know why?" She asked.

Mrs Cole looked nervously at her husband.

He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest, "She was always so dramatic. I mean, every couple fights but that doesn’t mean you throw everything away."

You took note of how Mr Cole minimised the abuse that Meredith was clearly receiving.

"Did Meredith ever tell you that Adam hurt her?" You asked.

Mrs Cole sniffled but it was Mr Cole that answered, "She exaggerated things."

"So you’re saying she lied?" You prompted, seeing how twitchy Mr Cole was getting in the metal chair.

"She always wanted attention." He said.

That's what they all say but really the attention was just another way of saying they were looking for somebody to give them a way out. They were desperate for someone to see them and know that they weren't safe - that they needed saving.

Lots of women can't save themselves and the ones that do are never safe again.

"Did she ever come to either of you for help?" Emily asked.

Mrs Cole nodded, "She… Meredith wanted to leave so many times, but she didn’t think she could. She was scared."

"Scared of him?" Emily said encouragingly.

It was only a small gesture but both you and Emily caught the small glance that Mrs Cole gave her husband.

If it wasn't clear to you before then it was ridiculously clear now what had happened.

"Of everything."

"Or scared that no one would believe her?" You muttered to Emily. She nodded in agreement.

Mr Cole must have heard though because he angrily slammed his hands on to the table. It took absolutely everything in your professional career to not flinch. The loud noise caused your heartbeat to skyrocket.

This is not him. This is not before. You kept reminding yourself.

"What exactly are you implying?" He shouted defensively.

"Robert..." Mrs Cole tried to calm him.

"No! What are you saying?"

You and Emily looked at each other and you gave her a nod to signal she could continue this, even though it was you that taunted him.

"Mr Cole. When your daughter was younger, was she ever worried about her current or future. relationships?"

"I raised her to be tough. Not weak." He spat.

You were curled up in a ball on your bed. The room stank of ammonia thanks to your nervous tics and the fact he had walked through the door angrily.

You had run away from an argument downstairs but he had caught up to you.

"You need to learn to be tough, child. I didn't raise you to be this weak."

The room went quiet for a moment. Only the sound of Mrs Cole's sniffles filled the room.

Mr Cole's words sparked the last question you wanted to ask.

"You didn’t believe her, did you?" You asked.

"She made her own choices." Mr Cole said.

You promptly stood up from your chair, "And now she’s dead."

Mrs Cole burst out crying as you spoke, but you charged out of the room before you could console her. She knew anyway. She knew what her husband was doing to her daughter and still she did absolutely nothing, either because she was terrified or she simply didn't care.

But she was just a child.

You were just a child.

<.><.>

The bathroom was as depressing as the rest of the police station.

You had needed a moment to collect yourself.

Interviewing someone who had these whacked beliefs about raising children triggered you in a way you didn't think possible.

The way Mr Cole spoke was chilling and it made you remember all those dark nights when you didn't think you'd ever be loved again. In fact, back then, you don't reckon you knew what love was.

Your grip on the bathroom counter tightened as you tried to ground yourself.

You were so in your own head this whole case and you hadn't caught who was responsible yet. This case was only going to become more triggering as you went along and as you potentially uncovered more bodies.

Right when you felt like you might just let every emotion out Emily opened the bathroom door, you leant back off the counter and tried to look composed.

"Just wanted to let you know that the team's back. Oh and there's someone here who wants to speak to you." She gave you a small smile.

"Okay, thanks." You smiled back and it felt like the fakest thing in the world.

<.><.>

The last thing you expected when you returned to the main area of the police station was to see your father.

Your footsteps halted, like you couldn't physically move any closer towards him.

The rest of the room kept carrying on like normal, but you felt your words completely dry up and your hands begin to shake. You tried to process all the questions you had for him being here all at once.

"Y/N!" He raised his arms out like he was ready for a hug but you stepped back, knocking your hip into the corner of a desk in panic.

The rest of the team watched the situation before them.

They'd never seen you look so lost.

“There you are!” He smiled but you heard the venom behind each word. He was putting on his charm in front of all these people, but really he restraining himself from showing his true colours.

"W-what are you doing here?" You asked.

He scoffed like that was a silly question, “It’s been a long time.”

You can feel the weight of people's eyes on you. Other agents. Cops. The team. Aaron. The last one makes you nervous.

You have an inkling that Aaron knows something and yet you have never managed to tell him. Aaron makes you feel safe like no one ever has, but you still can't find the courage to speak up. You're also worried what he might do should he find out.

This doesn't need to become a thing. You don't want to become one of the teams victims.

So you tried to take control of the situation for once, "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, please leave. We have work to do.”

"I just wanted to check on you.” Your father's jaw clenched as he spoke.

Check on you? After all these years of no contact?

You didn't want him checking up on you. You didn't want him anywhere near you.

After all these years you still feel trapped near him - even when he's not touching you.

Aaron must have been watching closely, because he could tell that you were done with this situation but it was clear your father wasn't. It didn't take a profiler to work out the cause of that tension. Aaron needed the situation handled before anyone could do anything - his own fists were readying to swing should your father take one step out of line.

"She's asked you to leave, Sir." Aaron said stoicly.

You could feel Aaron right next to you, arms crossed over his chest to make himself look more dominant. Your father was only small anyways, but next to Aaron he was nothing.

Your father looked between you and Aaron, chuckling to himself.

"You Y/N's boyfriend then?" Your father asked.

You stiffened next to Aaron, your palms flexing as you tried to remember Aaron's words from earlier.

"Aaron Hotchner." He gave your dad a small nod.

You noticed how Aaron didn't flex his credentials. It was a classic profilers move of undermining the man who thought he was in charge, because then they never really know what to expect.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised.” Your father chuckled. “Never figured Y/N would be the type to get involved with someone like you.”

Aaron's facial expression didn't change. In fact, if anything, he looked a little more pissed off.

Your mind was trying to get you to choose between fight or flight. Normally you would fight, but having your dad so near really triggered your flight response. So you tried to cut the tension and deescalate the situation. before anyone got more hotheaded.

Although seeing Hotch punch your father would feel pretty good.

"Okay. I think we're done here."

Your father shrugged, raising his hands in defence, “Watch your tone. There's no need to get upset. I'll go.” He said, making it seem like you were being the unreasonable one.

Your father's words and the way you immediately shut down after he said them were a dead giveaway to your past.

It was impossible to hide it.

And for the first time in your relationship with Aaron, you felt exposed.

This was part of your story - part of you - that you never wanted him to have to see. Aaron had far too many of his own demons to suddenly take on yours as well.

Your father makes the effort to walk towards the main door, but not before stopping to speak again. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

He was baiting you.

“Still running. Still pretending. Does he even know?” He continued.

His words made you look towards Aaron and it hurt to see him look so angry. Was he upset that you had hid something so personal and traumatic from him? Would this alter your relationship?

You turned to look at the rest of your team too. Emily looked heartbroken. Morgan looked angry. Reid looked so sad. You were making your favourite people feel sad.

Your own eyes welled with tears as you thought about all the people that you were hurting by just being here.

Aaron had clocked on from even before the briefing of this case that something that happened in your childhood. He just didn't think it was as sick and as twisted as this.

Aaron watched your head dip, your fists scrunch in the way he hated to see and your lips continuously mouthing; 'I'm sorry'.

How on God's Earth could you ever think you had something to apologise for?

“That’s enough." Aaron's voice cut through the room, making you look up at him with fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. You knew all too well what that man who called himself your father could do. Rossi had been more of a father in a year than you actual father had in ever.

Your dad turned and smiled. He'd won.

Your darkest secret was out in the open and your father didn't care if he was taken down with it. The heartbroken look on your face would last him a lifetime.

You couldn't breathe.

Even after all these years your father had still had a hold over you and he could still win. He could still make you feel worthless with a simple few words. That's all he needed.

The tears fell over your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Policemen were watching your breakdown and your team looked as heartbroken as you felt.

You felt disgusting, crying over your own self when you were supposedly on a case to save other people like you. This time wasn't meant to be about you and yet somehow it now was.

You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to hold back a verbal sob.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Watching to see you break down into nothing.

You couldn't do this. You never wanted it to be like this. You thought you were stronger than this.

Saying nothing more, you excused yourself politely and ran out of the room towards the back of the station - far, far, away from your father. But far, far, away would never be far enough.

<.><.>

Hotch hadn't moved.

He stood his ground as he watched your father - that piece of scum - chuckle once you'd fled the room.

"Get. Out." Hotch gritted out through his teeth.

Your father nodded.

Morgan moved closer to your father, looking at Hotch briefly to silently tell his boss that he had this handled and that you would need him more than he was needed here right now.

Hotch nodded, but not before getting one good last look at your father's face here. The next time he would see his face was going to be when Hotch put him behind bars.

<.><.>

Aaron found you out the back of the precinct.

You had one hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, the other holding yourself against the cold wall for support.

Your crying was calmer now but the tears still fell.

You turned to face Aaron when he walked out of the door. You tried to stand taller, pulling your shirt down to fit properly.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean for that to happen.” You sniffled, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek.

"Don't apologise."

"N-no. I should’ve handled it better. Shit." Your voice was so shaky that Aaron was surprised you could even speak.

"Sweetheart, no."

You should’ve controlled the situation better.

“This isn’t on you.” Aaron reminder you gently.

“Everyone looked so—Aaron, I just made everything worse.” You said as you remembered how the team looked and how you could taken emotional control of an already vulnerable case. It was unprofessional.

"This isn’t on you.” He repeated. “None of us are upset with you. We're devastated for you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but that felt too hard to accept.

You shook your head as you tried to calm down the tears and hiccups that were reappearing.

"Honey... Listen to me and listen carefully. Nothing that just happened was because of you. Nothing that has happened was because of you." Aaron took a step closer to you.

"But, he..."

"Ssh, ssh. Listen." Aaron said softly, close enough to reach out for your hands now. "Hey, look at me."

When his hands touched you, you became completely grounded. You felt like you were right here instead of back there. Aaron was right in front of you and he wasn't running away. He was right there.

"You're still here." You said through a hiccup of tears.

"Of course I am." He said with a frown.

"I thought you-you'd leave, o-or not want me and..."

"Stop that. No. I don't mean to cut you off but I won't have you convincing yourself that I'm not anything but with you for the long haul, okay?" Aaron was so close now, linking his fingers through yours so that he could help you release all the anger from your fists.

"That first day you came into the BAU I was so low. I was. And I felt like you had been sent to our team not only to fix our capacity issues but also to... to fix me. I felt, for so long, like I had lost a part of me and yet the minute you walked through those doors... Well, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That the part of me returned." Aaron's fingers squeezed yours to continue to ground you, "So if you think for one moment that I'm letting you slip away from me, with that part of me, so easily... Well I'm not even entertaining the idea." He gave you a smirk.

"So we're okay?" You asked for reassurance. Aaron was more than happy to give it to you.

"We're okay." He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a little while to keep you close.

Aaron had noticed you pushing him away all day, so to have this time right now to be close with you was something he wasn't giving up so easily.

You were too busy embracing Aaron's touch to realise he was holding back tears of his own.

<.><.>

Both you and Aarons stood out back for another ten minutes or so, just talking through everything.

You didn't want to go into any details with him right now, but you did admit what your father used to do to you when you were a child and why this case hit far too close to home for you.

Aaron almost berated you for being so careless with your own emotions and mental state, but thought now was not the best time for that conversation. Instead he filled his talk with comforting and reassuring words. He had to make sure that you felt safe again.

He also promised to make your father's life a living hell - in whatever capacity legal...

That sort of terrified you but also made you feel a little lighter.

Morgan opened the door out back soon after, smiling at the way you and Hotch were holding hands and comforting one another.

"Hey. We got a call off the anonymous tip line. Girl called Sheree Rockstead called in to say that she's noticed some guy following her around the past few days. She's also just got out of a violent relationship and she's attending the women's shelter. She's seen the news and is worried."

"It's definitely our guy." Hotch said, not breaking his hand holding with you. "Let's set up an evac. plan. for Sheree and a trap for our unsub."

"You got it." Morgan nodded before leaving again.

Aaron turned back to you warily. You gave him a half smile in return.

"I'm going to stay here." You said.

"Okay." Aaron nodded. He would've benched you anyways if you demanded on going, knowing that field work was not the right thing for you right now.

"Be safe. Please."

"You too."

"Aaron..."

"I know. I'll be safe, I promise. Just want to make sure you are too. I mean if your father comes back when I'm not there I..."

"He won't." You shook your head. "Plus Reid can fight him off."

"Reid?"

"He has magic, after all." You laughed and Aaron had never been so happy to hear something in all his existence. His only hope was that he could continue hearing it with every day he had left.

<.><.>

On the way home on the jet everyone had passed out asleep other than you and Aaron.

There was still too much to talk about.

You had made your own announcement to the team about your past - a more revised version than what you would be telling Aaron - because you thought it was important for them to know.

Morgan threatened to become an undercover spy and "beat his ass" - his words. Hotch threatened to give him a pysch test if he kept throwing those words around, so he shut up - but only when his boss was present.

Garcia tracked down your father's whole life and it turned out he was drowning in debt and your mother had left him. His life was pretty crap and that made you feel really good.

Aaron, though, he had been a crutch for you throughout.

You were so lucky to have him.

But he would say he was luckier to have you.

And that would be the only competition that you and Aaron would ever have.

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