#fic: mi vida

[tightjeansjavi]

Jeany! Congrats on one year, baby!

What can I bring to the sleepover? I have punch and pie at the ready.

You know I’m a Frankie girl thru and thru… but what if he was… drunk and handsy (in the best way possible) and maybe we’re not an item yet… but he’s hella interested and the alcohol makes him brave…

Love a little friends to lovers…

Beefro👌🥩💜

BEEFRO!! my darling, mi vida, thank you for sending this in! I hope it’s okay that we didn’t get smutty with it, and the reader was the one who was a lil drunk 🥺

-

mi vida

~word count: 2.0k~

Summary: Frankie Morales is your best friend and the love of your life.

Pairing | best friend!frankie morales x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, no age gap, language, mentions of drinking and smoking, right person wrong time, best friend!frankie, assumed unrequited love, frankie and the reader are bi, Santi, Will, and Benny exist in this universe but fuck Tom. Me and my homies hate a motherfucker named Tom, happy ending, reader can understand and speak Spanish, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

Translations:

mi vida- my life

querida- darling

hermano- brother

nada de eso- none of that

estoy en camino- I’m on my way

no te vayas de ahí- don’t move

voy a intentarlo- I’m going to try

vamos a salir de aquí- let’s get out of here

The bass in the nightclub is booming, pulsing in your ears and rattling your brain in your skull. Your vodka lemonade has practically watered down to nothing—great. To make matters even worse, your favorite pair of metallic heels keep sticking to the floor—gross. There’s too many people packed in this club, too many bodies, and you realize then that this was a terrible idea.

It all started with your stupid boyfriend—ex-boyfriend. He broke up with you over the phone, babbling pathetically about how he met someone else and how sorry he was. Bullshit. You sucked in your tears, and the remaining threads of your dignity and packed his shit up into a cardboard box and tossed it right down the garbage shoot.

Fuck him.

You weren’t even the least bit sad, no—you were furious. You should have known that he was a tool, just another asshole hiding under a ‘nice guy’ persona.

Did I even really love him? You questioned yourself in the mirror while applying a glitter shadow to your eyelids.

You did, but he’s not— You gripped the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection and the smudge mascara streaks under your eyes.

Frankie is too good for me. He deserves better.

Francisco—Catfish, Morales had been your best friend, your ride or die—your Clyde to your Bonnie, since you were kids.

You grew up on the same block and you remember the first day you met Frankie like it was just yesterday.

His mom sent him over to your house, with fresh tamales in a well loved container held between two clammy palms.

“Hey, I’m Frankie. Welcome to the neighborhood.” He said with a small, boyish grin.

He had the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen, and soon enough your diary was no longer doodles of unicorns, butterflies, princesses and dragons, it was Frankie Morales, and those brown eyes of his.

You walked to school together everyday and soon your duo turned into a little group consisting of three other kids that had become like brothers to Frankie and you.

There was Benny, Will, and Santi; the five of you shared your own stomping ground: the neighborhood playground. And as you grew older…your feelings towards your friends shifted.

You had a minor crush on Santi who found out through Benny and that’s how you ended up going to the movies together one weekend. Santi was a total gentleman, and while you were attracted to him, the butterflies weren’t there. The spark that you dreamed about feeling—was nonexistent. And when he kissed you, your foot didn’t pop up like it did in the Princess Diaries!

Get a room! You’d recognize that voice from anywhere—Frankie.

And low and behold, Frankie, Benny, and Will were all sitting a few seats behind you and Santi who wasted no time to grab a handful of popcorn and toss it at the three of them.

You and Santi decided afterwards that you were better off as friends. Will took you out to dinner once, and the two of you also quickly realized that you were better off as friends.

Benny ended up being your date to the junior prom. It was hard to not be attracted to a guy like Benny. He was smart, funny, and a total goober. He couldn’t dance for shit, but you had fun, and it was definitely going to be a night for the books.

Maybe you and Benny would have ended up together if you hadn’t slow-danced under a shimmering disco ball with Frankie after Benny took a break from dancing. Maybe your heart strings wouldn’t have tugged you in the direction of your best friend, and those big brown eyes of his.

“Are you going home with him, mi vida?” His words whispered against the shell of your ear while one hand rested along your lower back, and the other around your waist.

“Probably” You whispered softly.

You tried to pretend that you didn’t see the way his face fell, and his lips curve into a set frown.

“Good. He’ll take care of you. You deserve to have fun, querida.”

And when the song ended, and Benny returned, you watched your best friend walk away, his arm wrapped around Santi’s shoulders.

It was half-past 5 in the morning when you told Benny about your feelings for Frankie. You were tangled up in his sheets, passing a cigarette back and forth. Benny wasn’t even surprised, he just had this knowing grin on his face.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We all know how you feel about catfish. It ain’t a secret.” He winked at you reassuringly.

-

On graduation night you had built up enough courage to finally tell Frankie how you felt, and after downing a few glasses of champagne for some extra liquid courage, you were ready—until you saw Frankie leaned in close to another girl in your grade, and your heart sank to the very pits of your stomach.

You told Santi how you felt about Frankie later that night while sharing a bottle of champagne on the old rusted swings of the neighborhood playground.

He confessed to you that he felt the same way about Frankie, but he was afraid of ruining their friendship and how Frankie would react.

You reached over, gently grabbing his hand in yours and told him, you should tell him how you feel, Santi.

-

When you went off to college, your four friends enlisted in the military and you weren’t sure if you would ever see them again. Life continued on for you, until you found yourself right back to your roots, and feeling the same way for your best friend as you did years ago. You just did a real damn good job of hiding it from your boyfriend.

So, that’s how you found yourself outside of the women’s bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, the bottom of your favorite heels sticking to the floor, and your thumbnail bleeding because you had ripped out a nasty hangnail with your teeth.

The dial tone rang, and rang and you thought that maybe this was a sign that you and Frankie were never meant to be. That it was all made up in your head, and scribbled in your diary. Maybe Frankie never felt the same way about you as you did for him.

“Mi vida?” his voice crackled on the other line and you imagined he had his hand cupped over his phone so that he could hear you better.

“Francisco,” you breathed, taking a pause as you gathered your thoughts. “I—I need you, Frankie.”

He nearly dropped his phone, lurching forward in his chair from your words. His erratic movements caught the attention of Santi who was sitting across from him in the booth and he raised his brows, mouthing, you okay, hermano?

Frankie was too caught up in the pounding of his heart in his chest, and his pulse racing in his eardrums to even notice Santi or Benny and Will now looking at him.

“Where are you, querida? Are you—safe? I can barely hear you.” Frankie uttered, bringing his thumb to his lips and gnawed on the side of the nail nervously with his teeth.

“I’m at some shitty club. Boyfriend broke up with me—and I ended up here. You don’t have to come, I just—I thought maybe…” you trailed off.

“Nada de eso, mi vida. Is it that same club we tried sneaking into back in highschool? The seedy one?”

“Yeah. The one where the floor is always sticky, and you can still smoke cigarettes.” You stifled a giggle.

“Estoy en camino, querida. Hang tight, okay? No te vayas de ahí.” He said in an urgent tone, gathering up his wallet and keys before he downed the last sip of his beer.

“I’m not going anywhere, Frankie.” You reassured him.

“I know, mi vida. I’ll stay on the line with you, ‘Kay?” He slipped out of the booth just as Santi stood up.

Frankie pulled his phone away from his ear momentarily, holding it against his shoulder as their eyes met.

Santi gave him a knowing a grin, slapping him on the shoulder gently in a half hug, “go get your girl, hermano.”

Frankie hugged him back, wrapping both arms around him before pulling back slightly with a grin slowly tugging over his lips, “Voy a intentarlo, hermano.”

And then there was Benny in the background yelling, “HELL YEAH, CATFISH! GO GET YOUR LADY!”

-

Frankie stayed on the phone with you the entire walk to the club which evidently was only a few blocks away. You were babbling on about how watered down your vodka lemonade was when Frankie had pushed himself through the mass of bodies all sweaty and sticking together. His eyes locked on your familiar face, right where you said you would be.

“I’m here, mi vida.” He whispered into the receiver before ending the call. He didn’t even have a chance to slip his phone into his back pocket when he felt your arms wound around his neck, pulling him into a hug. You smelled like cheap vodka, and flowery perfume that burned the sensitive hairs in his nostrils but he didn’t care.

“I missed you, Francisco.” You breathed into the bare patch of exposed skin on his neck, hugging yourself to him tightly. “I—there’s so much I want to say—and tell you, Frankie.”

“I missed you more than you can imagine, querida. I never—I’m so sorry…about your boyfriend.” He pulled back slowly so that he could get a good look at your face. He expected you to be a heartbroken wreck, but he was met with the complete opposite.

“Don’t be. He was a jackass, and I don’t think he and I were ever compatible.” You shrugged, eyes never leaving his. “I don’t give a fuck about him. I came out here to clear my head, but then I thought about you, Frankie. “Fuck it!” You laughed, choking back an on-coming sob that you weren’t expecting, “I should have just grown a pair all those years ago and told you how I felt! Fuck—do you have any idea just how in love with you I am, Francisco?”

“Mi vida, you’re drunk—you—just went through a break up, and you’ve had a lot to drink—”

She’s in love with me?

“I should have broken up with him a long time ago, Frankie. There’s a lot of things I wish I could have done differently, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it’s always been you, Francisco, mi vida.”

She is in love with me.

Frankie brought his hands up to your face then, gently cradling your cheekbones in his palms. “Hey, hey, querida. It’s okay. Shit, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for any of that. You and I—we’ve always danced around the subject, haven’t we?”

You nodded and brought your hands up to rest along his.

“Santi told me after we enlisted that you were going to tell me how you felt on graduation night and then never did because—the timing wasn’t right then, mi vida. I thought about writing you a letter at some point, but I never did because the last thing I ever wanted to do was hold you back from the life you deserved, querida. All these years I’ve wanted to tell you—”

You cut him off, pulling his face close to yours, “I love you, Frankie” you brushed your thumb across the heart shaped patch in his beard.

“Fuck—I love you so much, mi vida.”

And then you were both surging forward, accidentally smacking one another in the forehead, letting out a synchronized groan of pain before your lips finally met in a bruising kiss. Your foot popped up behind you as drunk club-goers stumbled past yours and Frankie’s passionate embrace.

You came up for air a few minutes later, giggling as you threw your arms around his neck once more and he held you close, swaying with you as if there was a slow song playing.

“Vamos a salir de aquí, Frankie.” You said breathlessly, carding your fingers through the back of his hair having half the temptation to rip off his baseball cap just so you could mess his hair up even more.

He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it down to his face and pressed his lips to the outside of your hand, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I’ll go anywhere with you, mi vida.”

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[hotchnisslvr]

through love and loss

~for riv, happy birthday angel <3 thank you for letting me tell this story~

pairing: hotch/reader

rating: t

word count: 9.5k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort with a happy ending

summary: after witnessing your long-term friend and colleague profess his love for you moments before dying in the field, you struggle to cope with the grief and trauma of his loss. through his own experience with traumatic loss, day by day, Hotch aids in your healing and the feelings you begin to catch for him as time goes on scare you just as badly. Will you be able to move on and start again? Or will your grief be too much for you to bear?

“You’ve been one hell of a partner,” he says. His fingers gently clasp over yours and your panicked eyes glance up from the gaping wound in his abdomen to lock onto his. They’re surprisingly clear, the lights of the street lamps reflecting back at you in them. His blood paints your now intertwined fingers. Your gaze flickers between them and his eyes, the soft smile on his lips.

“Don’t say that,” you bite, your voice thick with tears. “Garcia!” you cry knowing she can hear you through your earpiece.

“Honey, they’re coming as fast as they can! Hotch is leading the charge, EMS is with them.” Her voice wavers as it crackles through the mic. “Just hold on.” You don’t know if she’s saying it to you or to him. His earpiece hadn’t fallen out when he caught the bullet and hit the ground.

“They won’t make it in time.” He says, choking out a pathetically weak laugh. “I always knew it could end like this. Can you make sure they use a good photo of me at the funeral? Maybe that shirtless selfie I took in Miami?”

“God, can’t you just shut the fuck up for once?” you snap as you apply more pressure to his abdomen. “You always have some kind of joke, some one liner.”

His smile cracks as you press down, a small “oomph” passing his lips. “You,” he takes a shuddering breath. “You love my jokes.”

“Yeah,” you bite as you blow a strand of sweat drenched hair out of your face, “and you can keep annoying me with them after you get to a hospital.”

“Humor me, will ya?”

Hot tears brim along your lash line as you paint on a smile. “Okay,” you answer tightly.

“My ma,” he starts. He coughs and a trickle of blood spills from the corner of his lips. “Tell her I got him, ok? She’ll need to hear that. And, and tell her I went laughing. That’ll help.”

You can’t help the sob that erupts from your throat, but you try your best to stifle it. His hand tightens around yours and you know it’s taking all of his strength to do that.

“Can you do that?”

You nod as tears stream down your cheeks, etching soft lines into your skin.

“And,” he coughs again as he struggles to breathe. “I can’t—” he rasps. “I can’t go without telling you.” His fingers shake as he withdraws them from your hand and reaches up to touch your cheek. Instinctively, your hand reaches up to support it, cradling the warmth of his palm against your face. He smiles as he winces. “I love you. Since the first day I saw you, I’ve loved you. I shouldn’t—” His features twist as a shudder racks his body and a sob breaks free from his lips. “I shouldn’t have put this job above that, what the Bureau would’ve thought. It’s all too short, ya know?” A bitter laugh tumbles free as he takes a deep breath.

You can hear the sirens now. They’re close, but not close enough. They won’t make it.

“Promise me,” he says, his voice wavering. His gaze locks on yours though you can hardly see for the tears blurring your vision. “The next time you feel love, you really, truly start to feel that hint of desire, those, those butterflies in your stomach, goddammit chase them, Catch that feeling, bottle it up, and don’t let it go for nothing. Promise me.”

You shake your head as you hold desperately onto his hand against your cheek. You feel his thumb weakly stroke the skin there.

Cars screech to a halt. Doors slam.

“I promise.”

His hand goes limp in yours.

The scream that tears from your body is primal and unearthly. This isn’t happening. It cannot happen. You scramble to check his pulse, to hope beyond hope you’ll feel the faintest of beatings; something, anything to signify that he’s still there. There’s nothing. Naturally, you move to begin CPR. Or at least you try to before two big arms thread through yours from behind, hooking you against the plane of someone’s body as they pull you away. You thrash and scream against their hold, fighting to get back to him.

“Let the medics do their job,” a voice says in your ear. Morgan. His grip tightens around you, not in a way that’s painful, but grounding. “Let them try.”

There’s a ringing in your ears, growing louder as you watch the two medics crowd around him. One cuts away the fabric of his shirt while another begins CPR. You watch on in silent, stunned horror.

“What happened?” another voice you recognize says sternly, though his voice sounds far away, like you’re underwater and he’s up above the surfaces.

The medics exchange a grim look after a couple of minutes. The one performing CPR’s rhythm slows until she’s doing nothing at all. She shakes her head.

Your knees buckle and you’re falling. Morgan responds immediately, trying to balance your weight against his own as you go to the ground. Though you're prepared to hit the asphalt, it never rises to meet you. Instead, you fall against the scratchy fabric of a Kevlar vest. Arms cradle you into the plane of a wide chest, your body spasming against their frame as uncontrollable sobs wrack your body. Harsh, guttural screams tear from you, your breathing uneven and irregular as you struggle for air between sobs. Black spots dot your vision.

“You have to breathe,” a faraway voice says. His tone is even, modulated. “Listen to me.” He says your name. Your name. Your name. You latch onto that. You try to, but oh my God. He’s dead. You watched him die. You felt his life leave his body. He loves you…loved you.

“I think she’s going into shock. Medic!”

Everything feels detached, like your limbs are not your own. A light shines in your eyes, but you don’t flinch away. You see the stars. You’re on your back? Your fingers buzz and shake involuntarily, numbness creeping in as you fight to inhale a full breath. A hand clasps yours. It's warm. Something slips over your nose and mouth, a mask? Breathing feels easier, but not by much.

“She suffered a blow to the head—”

Had you? Yes, wait. The fight before. The scramble for the gun. The unsub had wrestled it out of your hand and struck you over the head with the butt of the weapon and then…then two shots rang out.

White stars explode behind your eyes, blinding you. There’s a ringing in your ears.

“He loved me,” you whisper as your vision blurs.

Someone’s calling your name.

“He told me he loved me.”

And then it’s dark, and there’s nothing. And you don’t have to feel anymore.

•

“I can walk you inside.”

“I’m fine, Hotch. Just—” You close your eyes and inhale slowly. You’re not fine. You don’t know if you’d ever be fine. You smooth down the black fabric of your dress, the silk wrinkled from how tightly you’d held onto it during the service. Your knuckles ache from clenching them so hard and your palms sting, littered with half moon cuts from

digging your nails into them; any external stimulation to distract your mind from what was actually happening. Anything to keep from breaking down in front of everyone.

“Just?” he hedges.

You blink out of your stupor and stop staring at the dash. “Thank you for the ride,” you say curtly. Without meeting his gaze, you hastily exit the SUV and step into the rain. You clutch your arms against your chest, holding your double breasted trench closed over your body as you tuck your head and slip through the double doors into your apartment complex, hardly registering the motions of entering your code into the keypad.

God knows how many times you’ve walked this path to your apartment, but today it seems longer. You feel the pressure of each step in these uncomfortably tall, but not too tall, heels. Your purse bounces against your leg as you walk, each step heavier than the last. The ride to the top floor takes longer than ever and when you arrive in front of your door you almost can’t recall which key on your ring will unlock it.

The door to your apartment yawns open to greet you, yet you kick it shut, clamping its lips together to envelop you in darkness once again. Everything is the same, yet it’s all different. You stand there on the doormat staring down the short corridor you cross through day in and day out. Did he know he’d leave his apartment for the last time that day?

The hall leads to the open concept shared living room and kitchen areas. Despite all of the shades being drawn, the wide rectangular sliding glass door ahead emits shrouded gray light from behind the curtains. Without clear thought, you move toward it, dropping your keys and purse on the ground at the door. Mindlessly, your fingers move to the buttons of your coat. Shrugging out of the bulky layer, it falls to the floor in a ripple of fabric as you push the curtain open and unlock the door. The dull pitter patter of raindrops crescendos as you slide open the door, the thick glass no longer dampening the sound of the downpour. You breathe in the crisp November afternoon as a wall of cold air slams into you, eliciting goosebumps across your exposed flesh. You don’t think as you step out into the rain, the wind blowing sideways.

Standing still, you let the rain pelt you and the wind throw your hair. It doesn’t take long for it to soak through your dress, which now clings to your figure. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, a tangled mess of mother nature’s finest. The cold seeps in just as fast and before long your lips are quivering and your teeth are chattering. You feel it bruise down to your bones, yet you don’t move. You feel the icy sting because anything is better than feeling his loss. Anything is better than feeling the raw agony of grief as it digs its fingers into your chest and holds your beating heart in its hand and mocks your pain, never letting you forget a second of that night.

There’s your name on the wind, wait, no. It’s behind you. Your instincts have slowed, like deadened nerves, they don’t react the same.

“What are you doing out here?”

You blink and Hotch is standing just outside of your back door, his hand shielding his eyes from the rain. Your lip quivers in response as he steps forward and pulls you inside. He immediately shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before guiding you to the couch.

“God, you’re freezing,” he says as he drops your hand in your lap. “I’ll get some towels.”

You stare at your hands in your lap as he stands, his footsteps echoing down the hall. He returns with two. The first, he passes to you and you just hold it. The second he uses to blot your face before draping it over your shoulders and pulling your hair off your neck and face, smoothing it over your ears and shoulders so it falls over the towel.

When he sits, his eyes meet yours. They’re a deep brown, like coffee, coffee without milk. They’re warm like coffee, too. Just looking into them begins to just barely chisel at the ice you’ve let burrow deep into your bones.

His brow pinches. “God, what the hell were you thinking? You’re going to get sick standing out there in the rain and cold like that.”

Your fingers curl around the towel in your lap, your gaze fixed on the coffee table. “I needed to feel anything else,” your voice cracks as tears well along your lash line. “Because if I don’t, all I’ll feel is the hurt and it’s so deep, and I’m so scared that this is all I’ll ever feel.”

Hotch’s features soften, his lips parting. He knows the feeling all too well. “It seems like that now.” His voice is soft. “When I lost Haley, even though we’d been divorced for some time, it felt like my world had crumbled out from under me and I wondered if I’d ever be able to rebuild it.”

A strangled sob escapes your lips and you hug the towel to your chest. “How? you ask, voice pleading. “How do you do that? I want to do that. I need to start, because I can’t…I can’t live with this pain, Hotch.”

“It’s not immediate,” he answers. “It’ll take a long time for the pain to subside to where it’s only a dull ache and then one day, you’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore. You have to give yourself grace and let yourself feel the agony of his loss. Stop trying to push it down. You don’t have to save face for anyone.”

Your voice is small when you speak. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Hotch responds empathetically. “Grieving is the hardest part.” His hand reaches for yours. It’s warm against your icy skin and you remember this feeling. He’d been the one to hold your hand as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance that night. For the first time, you raise your eyes to meet his.

“I don’t think I can come back,” you say, “not now.”

Hotch nods. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Take the bereavement. I’ll pull some strings to grant an extension on it. When it runs out, we can revisit a return to work.” He squeezes your hand and inclines his head to really look at you. “I understand what you’re going through more than anyone. I know how easy it is to want to isolate and shut the world out. When you feel that darkness calling you? I want you to call me instead. I’ll help guide you out of it. Can you do that?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth to stop its trembling and nod. “I can do that.”

•

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as the elevator slowly climbs to the floor where the BAU works from. Your fingers twitch along your side as you watch the numbers light up with each passing story. When the elevator dings, signaling it’s your turn to face reality, you square your shoulders and stride through the doors as they part.

A shock of blonde and pink hair greets you immediately. Arms are around you, squeezing you against a fuzzy green cardigan that smells faintly of jasmine.

A small smile tugs at your lips and you're surprised to hear laughter from your lips. “It’s nice to see you, too, Penelope.”

“I missed you!” she says, a wide smile on her pink lips.

“I’ve missed the team,” you say, peering around her. “Is everyone here?”

She shrugs, “It’s Monday morning so everyone is filtering in. You know how it goes.” She turns toward the double doors leading inside. She points over her shoulder with a pen topped with a purple pom pom. Her lips press together. “Are you ready?”

You inhale slowly and swallow.

You know this is going to be hard, but it has been a month. You were sleeping through most nights and had begun seeing the Bureau appointed therapist to cope with the trauma and loss. Hotch had kept his word too. When you had holed yourself away in your room; takeout containers barely touched, forgetting to take showers, and had laundry piled so high it threatened to bury you in an avalanche of fabric, you called him. That’s all you’d done. You couldn’t speak when you did. It had taken all of your strength just to find his contact and hit ‘dial.’

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” was all he’d said before hanging up.

Penelope had given him the spare key to your apartment that she’d still had from when she watered your plants whenever a case kept you out for longer periods of time than usual. He’d figured you’d not have the strength to pull yourself out of bed. He hadn’t even come into your room when he’d first gotten there. He announced himself when he’d entered, not that you’d have reacted if it were an intruder. Ok, that might have been bullshit. At your core, you were still an agent and those instincts would’ve kicked in. You’d stayed in your blanket cocoon as the sound of dishes clanking and water splashing echoed from the kitchen. He’d knocked on your door and entered with a trash bag, collecting takeout and emptied the rather gross and overflowing bedroom trash can by your bed that you’d filled with tissues from the sporadic sob sessions that would overtake you. Silently, he’d pulled your clothes up off the floor into the hamper and started a load of wash. Only when things were clean did he sit on the edge of your bed and let you fall into him and fall apart all over again.

“Rossi sent me with a home cooked lasagna. It should last the week and then he’ll send another next week. I stocked your fridge with Gatorade. You’ll get sick if you dehydrate and trust me, you don’t want that to happen.” It had sounded like he’d spoken from experience.

When you’d managed to stop crying, you’d sniffed and looked up at him. “Did I hear you humming the “clean up” song?”

“It helps Jack stay on task at home,” he’d said, a soft smile and blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sweetie?”

You blink. Penelope is looking at you, the concern clear on her face.

You clear your throat and nod. “I’m ready.”

As you enter the bullpen, you don’t miss the way people pretend not to stare as you pass by; watching for cracks in your face and your body that might fracture leaving them to pick up the pieces. There’s a tension in the room as you pass his desk, a pregnant pause as they await your reaction but you’d been preparing for it. You feel the pain flow through you and take slow, measured breaths. The dread passes. The room breathes a sigh of relief.

It isn’t until later in the day that you’re passing the briefing room to deliver a file to Hotch in his office that you notice his photo on the wall honoring fallen heroes within the Bureau; his name embossed on a golden placard and eager, bright face smiling back at you.

Your ceramic coffee cup shatters as it hits the tile. Heads turn in your direction and Hotch is quick enough to react, stealing out of his office and reeling you back into it before you crash onto your knees unable to breathe.

•

Work gets easier. The routine becomes familiar again. There are good days and bad days. You don’t break down again at work after the initial shock on your first day back. Aaron checks in with you regularly as does the rest of your team. Hotch seems to pay extra attention, though, and you wonder if the team notices just how close you’d become over the last few months.

It started out simple enough; an extra “how are you?” or bringing you a cup of coffee in the morning. On your first week back, he’d only brought you decaf. “I don’t want to increase any anxiety you might be feeling,” he’d said.

You weren’t cleared to return to the field for two months, so you’d stay behind when the team left; helping remotely from the office with Penelope. You’d missed Hotch during the cases that took them far away from home. At first you told yourself, you were only missing how within reach Hotch had been when you were having a harder time making it through the day. You’d chided yourself and told yourself that it's time to cut the cord, that you had to learn to stand on your own two feet again sooner or later without him there to be your crutch. But was that all you missed?

Having him around made breathing feel easier. It made waking up in the morning seem worth it. He reminds you why you face each day and of the important work you do for the community and country at large. He reminded you why he wouldn’t want you to suffer like this months after the fact.

As you sit at your desk awaiting a phone call from Spencer to get you that update from the morgue, you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. Your ears pick up on the rustling of papers, the gentle whir of the copy machine, phones ringing, and people talking. It’s all so normal. It feels like any other day at the office, yet it feels hollow still.

Hotch had been working on it with you, though. He knew that you’d been withdrawing, despite having come back. You still weren’t taking people up on their offers to go out on weekends or getting a drink after work. It was all too exhausting. So, he started slowly with you. At first, it was really just making sure that you were meeting your basic needs. He’d schedule a time with you at the weekend to go out and get groceries; easy grab and go items because you still didn’t have much energy to cook. He’d help you unpack them and then head back home, not before giving you a hug and telling you how proud he was of you. Eventually, as you’d been able to handle more, he invited you on outings with him and Jack. You’d go watch one of his soccer games or go to the park. Seeing someone so carefree and innocent brought real joy to your heart and it suddenly didn’t seem so unnatural to smile and laugh. And during all of this Hotch had even shared his own experiences with how he’d handled his grief when Haley died. He’d done it all alone though. He’d confided this in you one night over a glass of wine and Thai takeout in your living room.

“I wish I’d had someone to help pull me out of the thick of it, the grief.” he’d said and you’d stopped chewing your food.

“You went through this all on your own?” you’d replied, stricken by the thought.

He’d nodded as he’d wiped a napkin over his lips. “Haley’s sister would keep Jack for a week at a time because I could hardly take care of myself, let alone my own son. It felt terrible, like I was failing him and failing Haley all over again. I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, pouring over every little detail wondering what I could’ve done differently, how I could’ve changed the ending.”

“Then what?” you’d asked, because you’d been plagued by the same nightmarish loop of that night.

A soft smile had graced his lips then. “I finally accepted that there’s no way I can change the past. I can wish and hope and beg and plead for a do-over, but that just doesn’t happen. I could either live in that painful memory forever or be grateful I got to have the time with her that I did and do everything in my power to honor her life with my own. I chose to keep living.”

Your phone rings, pulling you out of the memory.

“Hey Spence, any update from the morgue?”

“Mm, not Reid.”

You sit up straighter. “Oh, Hotch. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I’m leaving the station now to go interview the victim’s wife and wanted to check in.”

“Oh, sir. You didn’t have to do that. Things are fine here. Penelope and I are holding down the fort.”

“You know that’s not what I’m calling to check in about.”

Your brow furrows. Is that a smile you hear in his voice?

You lower your voice. “I’m fine.”

“If being back in the office is too much, too soon I can petition—”

“Really, Hotch,” you say, keeping your voice down. “It feels good to be busy again. If I’m caught up in work, my mind can’t dwell elsewhere. I’m right where I need to be.”

“Well, not right where you need to be,” Hotch comments.

There’s an immediate silence that follows, his words hanging in the liminal space between you and him over the line.

You open your mouth to speak when a beep hits your line. You pull your phone from your ear and see an incoming call alongside Spencer’s photo illuminating your screen. “That’s Spencer on the other line. I uh, I gotta go.”

•

You startle awake, heart hammering inside your chest. His name leaves your lips in a jagged, anguished cry. Cold sweat trickles down your face as you bolt upright, digging your fingers into the mattress to steady yourself.

The door to your room swings open and Hotch hurries to your bedside. You blink hard following the intrusion but quickly remember why Hotch is even here in the first place.

Jack had had a sleepover party at a friend’s house nearby, so you’d asked if he wanted to come over and have a Lord of the Rings marathon. It was playing on cable all evening and you did love those hairy footed hobbits. Hotch had smiled and said something about it having been years since he’d seen them. You’d started to doze three quarters through The Two Towers and he’d encouraged you to go to bed. You told him that he was welcome to stay and keep watching and he’d made some crack about you having a comfortable couch to fall asleep on. Your apartment was closer to Jack’s sleepover party than Hotch’s apartment, so it just made sense for him to stay. Or at least that’s what you’d told yourself.

He smooths back the hair that’s stuck to your face and the feel of his fingers on your skin helps ground you back to reality.

“Deep breaths,” he soothes. “Here.” he passes you the glass of water off of your nightstand and you mutter a thank you as you gulp it down.

When you finish, he takes the glass from you and replaces it on the nightstand. His other hand curls into yours.

“Hey,” he says, inclining his head to intercept the trajectory of your blank stare. Your eyes shift to meet his. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “It was all the same. Just that night in high definition except,” you swallow and shake your head, hoping it clears the image away like when you’re a kid and shake your Etch A Sketch when you want to create a new picture, “the unsub was laughing. From where he lay, dead on the ground, he was laughing. Blood bubbled up through his teeth as he did so and he just kept laughing.” You drop your head into your hands and rub your temples. “I swear I can still hear it. I can still see his open eyes, unseeing, while he laughed.”

Hotch rubs small circles on your back. “I know how scary it is, how unsettling it can be. It’s only a dream. The unsub is dead. He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”

“How long?” you ask, exhaustion heavy in your voice.

“How long, what?”

“How long do the dreams last?”

Hotch sucks a breath in through his teeth. “I wish I had an answer for you,” he says. “There are some nights I still wake up in a cold sweat just like you, Haley’s name on my lips. There are nights I dream that I saved her, nights where I got to Foyet before he got to her. There are nights I dream of Foyet standing over me, of his knife—”

Your hand slips into his and this time it’s Aaron’s turn to lift his eyes to meet yours. “I understand.”

A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “They get easier to live with.” He pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes and let yourself mold against his frame. The smell of cedar and teakwood has become familiar to you, comforting too. You inhale deeply as he squeezes you against him.

“I should let you get back to sleep,” he says as he pulls away.

“Stay?” you blurt awkwardly, voice smaller than usual.

Aaron’s brow arcs in response. “I’ll be right outside.”

“With me,” you say, gesturing toward the bed. “Just,” you breathe out slowly. You feel vulnerable. Your voice cracks despite how hard you try to keep it steady. “Can you just hold me? For a little while? I’m afraid to close my eyes just to see that smile again.”

“I—” he starts and stops. You feel your lip begin to quiver and you wish you could stuff your words back inside your mouth. He is still your boss. What the hell kind of request was that for you to make? Before you can tell him to forget it, he speaks again.

“Of course I can.”

You shift awkwardly, heart hammering now for an altogether different reason, as you make room for him to slide in next to you.

He eases onto the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him atop the covers and crosses one over the other.

He stretches his arm nearest you, “Come here,” he says softly and almost hesitantly, you lay your head against his chest. His heart beats evenly, if not a little quicker than what you imagine his resting heart rate ought to be. Was he nervous too? Was this crossing a line? Before your mind can run away with anxious thoughts, he wraps his other arm across your body while his hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers gently combing through it in slow, soothing movements.

You feel his eyes on you and you want to tilt your face up to look into them, but something holds you back. Instead you let your lashes flutter close and mutter something about only staying until you fall asleep. If you weren’t lying right beneath his lips, you might’ve missed the whisper of laughter that tumbles from them.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says as he drops his hand to your shoulder and strokes deliberate, gentle lines up and down the skin there.

He talks then; about work, about Jack, just about anything until his voice sounds further and further away and you’re fast asleep. And for the first time since you can’t remember when, it’s dreamless.

•

The hum of the jet’s engine should lull you to sleep at this hour yet you continue to scratch notes into your legal pad, not wanting to forget any details to add to your case report. You’d had trouble concentrating when you’d departed from LAX and had spent the first few hours of the flight lost in your thoughts.

The case had gone well. Within 72 hours, you’d delivered the profile and successfully captured the unsub. Richard Pyre, aged 32, had been kidnapping young women and strangling them, leaving their bodies in public places. Local PD had done an excellent job of canvassing the streets. The team came in and connected the missing pieces they’d not been able to decipher and together, you all had caught the bad guy. It was a slam dunk case. So, it shouldn’t be taking you long to compile notes for your report.

You just couldn’t get him off of your mind. It had been a month since Hotch had stayed over at your place, since you’d wept in his arms and begged him to hold you until you fell asleep. The memory alone brings a hot, embarrassed flush to your cheeks. Why? Because Hotch had fallen asleep in bed with you. His phone alarm that he’d set to remind him to pick up Jack from his sleepover had gone off in the living room. When it continued to beep, you’d stirred awake. At first you’d been confused, not remembering having set an alarm as it was Saturday, but then you’d felt the rise and fall of a chest underneath you. Aaron Hotchner was still in your bed, arms around you. He’d pulled the throw blanket from the end of your bed up and over his legs at some point during the night and just fallen asleep too.

For a moment you’d been scared to move, afraid of what lines had been crossed despite not having engaged in any sexual activities. That was your boss in your bed, for Christ’s sake. Yes, the pair of you had been blurring the lines with friendship lately as he’d become so integral to your life. But then again, everyone in the BAU kinda sorta blurred the lines between colleagues and friends. But you’d never woken up in anyone else’s arms.

You’d tried to slip out of his arms without waking him, but between the movement and his alarm going off in the other room you’d never stood a chance. He stirred awake and rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning,” you’d said awkwardly.

He’d immediately dropped his arms from around your body and cleared his throat. “I, uh,” he breathed in deeply and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep, I’m sorry.” He’d quickly exited the bed and scurried into the living room, where he’d swiped his alarm off.

He’d quickly collected his belongings, muttering about needing to pick up Jack. He’d averted your gaze and apologized again before giving you a quick hug and making a rather hasty exit from your apartment.

You didn’t talk about the incident afterwards, but something had definitely shifted between the two of you.

You drop your pencil onto the table and angle the reading light more towards yourself to not disturb Reid who breathes deeply as he sleeps across from you, arms cuddling his beloved satchel to his chest. As you reach for your coffee, you exhale a heavy sigh when you notice it's empty. You don’t even remember finishing it. You check your watch: 1:22AM. You really ought to try and sleep, but instead you rise to fix another cup.

Walking on the balls of your feet to not disturb the rest of the sleeping team, you make your way toward the back of the plane where the restroom and bar are situated. The red light still blinks on the coffee machine, signaling it’s been keeping the half-full pot hot all this time. As you lift the pot and begin to pour, someone speaks.

“Another cup? Really?”

You startle at the sound of Hotch’s voice, causing you to miss your cup and spill coffee on your hand. You hiss quietly and shake your hand, flinging drops of coffee across the counter.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Hotch whisper-shouts as he withdraws his pocket square and dries your hand. He moves, bringing your hand under the bar’s lighting to inspect for injuries. Fortunately, it’s just a few blotchy red spots that ought to go away in a couple of hours. His thumb gently strokes the skin around it and your breath catches in your throat. You watch for a few moments, feeling your heart slowly start to beat its way into your throat the longer he holds onto your hand. A part of you wants to draw nearer to him, but instead you clear your throat.

“You should sleep,” he says, finally, dropping your hand. You miss the feel of his fingers immediately.

“Hi Pot, I’m Kettle, you reply snarkily.

Aaron’s lips twitch into a smile. “Yes, well. Typically, I’m working on a lot more than you’ve got to worry about as Unit Chief. I’m usually up at this hour anyway. You, on the other hand, are usually asleep with everyone else. Are you still having nightmares?”

You swallow and turn away, ripping open a packet of Splenda and stirring it into your coffee. “No, actually. Not since—”

“Since?” he presses.

You pick up your mug and turn back around to face him. “Since you stayed the night at my place.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen just slightly. He swallows and fidgets with the buttons of his suit jacket. Aaron Hotchner is fidgeting, a clear sign he’s nervous and holding something back.

“It scares me too,” you whisper after a long stretched out silence, hardly discernible.

“What’s that?” Hotch says, tone shifting.

You focus on the heat of the coffee mug in your hands as you press your thumbs into the ceramic to try and fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Whatever this is, these feelings. I’m not stupid, Hotch, and neither are you. We’ve clearly crossed a line and I don’t know how to uncross it.” You take a deep breath, feeling like you’re rambling. “I don’t know how to think around you anymore. Everyday I wake up and get excited because I know I’m going to see you. You bring Jack over on the weekends and it fills me with so much joy I don’t know how to cope with it. And then I feel guilty because I’ve toed this line before. I toed the line and was too afraid because of my job and protocols and it left my heart so broken I didn’t think I’d ever get to put it back together again. Then you come along with your tapes and your glues and you find a way to turn the fractured pieces of my heart into this mosaic of something capable of beating once more.” A tear slips from the corner of your eye and drips down your cheek, falling into your coffee with a soft plop. You raise your eyes to meet his, “Now you tell me what I’m supposed to do with that.”

At this point, your heart is slamming in your chest. Afraid of triggering a panic attack, you turn around and dump the coffee into the small sink carved into the small bar. You don’t need it nor want it anymore.

Hotch says your name and reaches for your arm but you pull away, turning and moving back to your seat at the opposite end of the jet. He could follow, but he won’t. Fortunately for you, Reid being asleep in the seat across from you and Derek being sprawled out across the way didn’t leave much room for Aaron to follow through on your conversation.

•

When the plane lands, you pull your go-bag down from the overhead bins alongside your gun case and cut out as soon as the doors open and the stairs descend.

Emily calls after you, but you duck your head and push ahead off the tarmac and onto the path leading back to the office. You’d finished your report on the plane. Once inside, you drop the manila envelope in the box affixed next to the door to Hotch’s office and dip back out through the main office doors. The elevator dings, alerting you that the rest of the team is about to walk through those doors. Not feeling up to facing anyway you move swiftly to the staircase and push the door open, sliding your body through as the whoosh of the elevator begins to open.

Your thoughts move too quickly as your feet slap against each step, your footsteps echoing in the empty chamber of the stairwell. When you reach the ground level, the parking garage, you fish your keys out of the front pocket of your bag and press the key fob, unlocking your car. Opening the trunk, you toss your go-bag in and place your gun case beside it before slamming it shut. After sliding into the front seat, you put your seatbelt on and back out of your space. As you shift your hands to cut the wheel to the right, someone jumps in front of your car with their hands up.

You slam the breaks and curse. You roll your window down. “Christ, Spencer! What the hell are you doing?”

He lowers his hands and moves to the driver's side window, awkwardly adjusting his satchel on his shoulder as he does so. He swallows and tilts his head to the side, brow furrowed. He takes a few deep breaths. He’d clearly been rushing to follow after you. “I was uh, wondering if I could get a ride home.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “JJ was going to give me a ride, but something with Henry—”

“Just get in,” you say, too exhausted to care.

“Thank you, thank you.” He rushes around the car and clambers into the passenger seat.

For a while neither of you speak. When you pull out of the garage, the sun hurts your eyes. You cuss under your breath as you reach for your sunglasses.

“Why’d you rush off the plane so fast?” Spencer asks as you turn onto the main road. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone disembark the jet that quickly.

You press your lips together, not really wanting to have this conversation. “Maybe I just really want to go home. I’m pretty exhausted, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, considering. “See, I think this has more to do with the conversation you and Hotch had on the plane.”

You jerk the wheel to the side, causing Spencer to cling to the handle above his seat. The sound of your tires screeching to halt echo as a car swerves and honks.

“What the hell, Spence?” you shout, pulling your sunglasses off to look him in the eye. “Did you lie to me about needing a ride just so you could trap me in this conversation?” You point a finger at him. “That’s fucked up. I don’t like lying. We’re friends.”

He tenses, flinching under your hard stare. “And that’s exactly why I’m doing this,” he says, voice tight.

You lower your finger, posture relaxing only slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been paying more attention to dynamics across the team over the last eight months. I read a study on how shared trauma can impact working relationships; some for the better and some for worse. Fortunately, our team seems to have stayed relatively strong following—” He pauses, eyes shifting to yours and then back to his hands in his lap. “His death. Anyway, obviously you took it the hardest, what with having worked closest with him and the lines you walked between colleague and romantic partner.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest, yet Spencer continues on.

“I didn’t see it at first. I thought Hotch was just checking in on you as is his duty as Unit Chief and having to make sure we’re all fit to be in the field. However, as time progressed I started to notice shifts in the way Hotch spoke to you and even his body language around you, even when you weren’t in the office.”

That strikes a chord deep within you. “Okay, and?”

He sits up straighter, lips pursing as he decides how to continue. “It started quite small. I’d catch him end a call with you while out on a case and he’d be smiling, other times his nostrils would flare and he’d wipe his hands down the fronts of his pants, likely because they were clammy, much like you’re doing right now.” He indicates toward you and you clench your hands into fists.

“So, what?”

He laughs exasperatedly. “So, what? You don’t have to be a behavior analyst to see these are all behaviors in line with burgeoning romantic feelings for someone.”

“I don’t—” your words falter as you fail to come up with an excuse.

“You’re scared,” Spencer states. “Moving on is the scariest part. There’s so many feelings attached to it: guilt, remorse, anger, fear, relief, joy. It’s normal to be afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back from allowing yourself a chance at happiness.”

You swallow thickly as you feel the familiar pressure of tears burn the backs of your eyes. “It’s only been eight months. It feels wrong.”

“I miss him too, you know?” Spencer says after a minute. “I know I might not have been as close to him as you were. You two were in the Academy together after all.” He reaches across the center console and takes one of your hands in his. “And I know that once upon time you and him considered taking your relationship further but decided not to because you were just starting out with the Bureau, but,” he says your name and smiles. “His profession of feelings for you doesn’t mean he’d never want you to find that for yourself. He just wanted you to know that while he was a part of your life, he loved you for all of it. I don’t think he’d want to see you hurt like this. I really don’t.” His clear eyes search yours as he smiles. “For as short a time together as we had, I loved Maeve every day I knew her.”

“Spence—” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“I miss her every day and it’s been two years. I’m not really a guy that goes on dates very often. I’m awkward and weird and I know this about myself. I do know though, that if I am lucky enough to find someone again that loves me, that she would want me to be happy. At least, I’d have wanted her to if our situations had been reversed and I’d been the one to die that day. I wouldn’t have wanted her to put her own happiness on hold.” He squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to put your life on hold. That doesn’t mean you’ll forget him.”

He drops your hand and points to the road. “I’ll buy you breakfast by the way, to make up for the lying.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and lunge over the passenger seat to pull him into a hug. Spencer wheezes as your body weight collides with him, but his slender arms snake around your back to return the embrace.

“Thank you, Spence.”

•

Usually, after a case, you have a shower and immediately go to bed. Not this time though. Spencer’s words play over in your mind again and again as you pace the length of your apartment floor.

You’d picked up your phone a dozen times to call Aaron, but each time you’d dropped it back onto the counter.

Eventually, you just plop down onto the couch and drop your head in your hands. “Why is this so hard?” you mumble to yourself.

You look up and make eye contact with the picture of you and him from the office Christmas party two years ago. He’s wearing a Santa hat and you’ve got on a headband giving you a pair of reindeer antlers. He holds a Solo cup in the air (Rossi had definitely spiked the eggnog) and the smiles on both of your faces are so genuine. A pang of guilt shoots through as you pick up the frame and cradle it to your chest, as if that was anywhere close to what a hug from him would feel like.

“I wish you were here to tell me what to do,” you whisper.

Spencer’s words move through your mind again, especially what he’d said about Maeve. God, this team has dealt with more love and loss than any normal group of people ought to deal with, but then again you all weren’t exactly a normal group of people.

Spencer had a point though. Rationally, you know he wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from the possibility of love and happiness with someone. You smirk to yourself because you can picture him sitting next to you making some crack about not ever thinking that man would be Hotch. He’d probably point out that Hotch was at least ten years your senior and make some dumb joke about being a gold digger. You’d never really thought about how much Hotch made compared to the rest of you, but with his title and tenure at the Bureau, it probably was up there.

If you are to do this, pursue whatever is going on between you and Aaron, presuming that that was also something he wanted, it won’t be easy. There’s enough red tape as is, let alone throwing relationships and romance into the mix. However, Rossi and Strauss had been together for a year prior to her untimely death. Again, this team had been through too much. She was his superior and there hadn’t been any problems that you’d been aware of, though no one had really been aware of their relationship until it was too late.

God, you wonder. Even Rossi hadn’t been afforded a chance at long term happiness with her. Is the BAU team just destined for trauma and loss? Maybe you should put a stop to this before it has the chance to go any further…but on the other hand you know Spencer would give his left arm if it meant having one more day with Meave. David would probably do the same to be with Erin. So, what were you doing? Why was it even a question?

You place the photo frame back in its place on the side table and grab your phone and keys off the counter. You know you look a bit disheveled. You’d not bothered to change or shower since getting home. You probably still smelled like plane funk too, but if you didn’t go see him now, you probably never would.

You pull open your front door and nearly trip over yourself as you force stop to keep from barreling into Hotch.

His hand is raised, like he is about to knock on the door no longer between you two. He licks his lips nervously and drops his hand after a

moment of you two staring at each other in stunned silence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to barge in like this.”

An uncomfortable laugh flits between the two of you as your voices overlap.

“Do you want to come in?” you say, gesturing behind you.

Hotch nods, “Please.”

You shuffle to the side and he steps into your apartment, eyes bouncing around the space. “You’ve managed to keep up with the place, that’s good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, hugging your biceps with your hands. “I find that humming the ‘clean up’ song helps.”

A pink blush sparks across his cheeks at your jab. “I’m glad that’s now a part of my legacy.”

There’s another awkward laugh followed by an even more awkward silence.

You rub your hands up and down your arms, suddenly finding yourself not as brave as you were feeling minutes early.

“Aaron, what are you doing here?” you manage to say after a few more awkward moments of silence.

Hotch presses lips together before taking a deep breath. He sweeps his thumb across his lips, suddenly looking very determined as he meets your eyes. “What I should’ve done on the plane.”

It takes seconds for him to cross the space between you. His hands clasp the sides of your face and then his lips are on yours, kissing you with such fervor you’re surprised that you don’t see stars. At first, you don’t even react, too stunned to believe this is happening. And then your arms are looping around his neck and you’re deepening the kiss, tasting the coffee on his lips as your tongue slips between them.

After a minute, he pulls away and you’re both breathless. He presses his forehead to yours and gasps. You look up at him from beneath your lashes and his eyes are wild and searching.

“We’re doing this, then?” you say between breaths.

Hotch nods and brushes his nose against yours. “I don’t think it’ll be easy.”

You twist your fingers into his hair, your lips brushing his as you speak. “Nothing about our lives is easy.”

He kisses you once, quick and brief. “So, we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

•

*Two years later

“Penelope is really excited about it,” you say as you pull your knees to your chest. The sun is shining brightly, but the crisp fall air is still chilly enough to warrant a scarf and light jacket.

“She wants it to be bright and colorful, with peonies and baby’s breath everywhere. There’s a board in her office with enough strings and photos connected you’d think it was a case.” You laugh to yourself and smooth a hand across the gingham pattern picnic blanket beneath you.

“There will be a chair for you,” you say wistfully. “It’ll be next to ones for Haley, Erin, and Maeve.”

You reach out and brush your fingers along the perfectly etched letters of his name. “I hope you’ll be there.”

The sun glints off of the circular cut engagement ring on your left hand, casting a dazzling rainbow across his tombstone.

“I think about the promise I made you,” you say as you adjust the bouquet of sunflowers and roses you’d propped against his grave and smile to yourself knowing he’d probably make fun of you for the way you diligently make sure there’s always some fresh arrangement to decorate the space. “I was scared when I first started to feel things for him, scared of what that meant. It took me a long time, and an oddly sentimental conversation with Reid to start chasing the feeling.” You laugh to yourself then. “I felt the butterflies though, and though it took a while, I did finally chase them.”

A small gasp escapes your lips then as a Monarch Butterfly lands on top of the stone. You don’t know a ton about their migration patterns, but you know it’s late enough in the Fall that they should all be gone. JJ had said something to you once long ago about how butterflies can be signs of your loved ones from beyond the grave, their way of visiting when they can.

There’s the pitter patter of small feet whooshing through the grass as Jack’s laughter echoes throughout the field as he races toward you.

“Daddy and I finished visiting Mommy,” he says as he throws his small arms around you. Haley had been buried at Quantico National Cemetery too given Aaron’s position within the Bureau. You wrap your arms around Jack’s and look up to see that Hotch is smiling down at the two of you. He asks you if you’re done with your visit, referring to him as uncle. You palm Jack’s small cheek in your hand as your lips curve into a small half smile and tears fill your eyes.

“Just about,” you say.

Aaron stretches a hand toward you and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet.

You glance down at his grave once more and watch the butterfly sit atop the stone gently stretching its wings. It lifts off after a few more beats, fluttering around before landing on your sweater, its small leggings hooking onto the threads of your sleeve.

You gasp in disbelief as you watch it climb a couple of inches before it takes off toward the clouds.

A tear slips down your cheeks as a bubble of laughter erupts from you, though there’s something of a sob there too. Aaron curves an arm around you and pulls you against the planes of his body that you’re now all too familiar with. He says nothing and kisses your temple as you watch the butterfly disappear into the sky and you can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe there is a heaven and that maybe, just maybe, he was checking in to let you know everything is okay.

You wrap an arm around Aaron’s torso and hug him tightly. Jack scoops up the blanket and bunches it into his arms.

“Well Soon-to-be Mrs. Hotchner,” Aaron says, rubbing your arm. “Are you ready?”

You take one last look at his grave and the flowers you’ve left there for him.

“I’m ready,” you answer with finality. And when you say those words, you mean them. You’re not just ready to leave for the afternoon, you’re ready for this next chapter of your life to truly and fully begin. It doesn’t mean you’re leaving this part of your life behind, the grief will always be a part of you and you know you’ll miss him and feel his loss until the day you die. And you know that Aaron feels the same about Haley. They’re integral parts of both of your stories, and through the healing you found one another. It’s that that carries you through to each new day, to each tomorrow. You’ll spend the rest of your lives honoring their legacies through the work you do and through the love you share with one another and all of your loved ones.

And that’s an encouraging thought.

#aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner x y/n #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort with a happy ending #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #amor de mi vida #aaron hotchner comfort #trauma #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner x reader #jack hotchner #bau reader #bau!reader #bau criminal minds #the bau team

[flightlessangelwings]

La Estrella de mi Vida- Part 1/3

Javi Gutierrez x fem!reader (nicknamed “Estrella” by Javi, no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), pining, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), reader is the daughter of the doctor to the cartels, canon compliant but takes place pre movie (about 5 years before is what I imagine), minor character death, undetailed illness mention, reader has a good relationship with her father but it’s not explored too much, angsty ending to this part, protective!Javi 

Notes: I am SUPER excited to share this minseries with y’all cause I had so much fun writing it and I spent a lot of time and effort with this! I really hope you guys like it so let me know what you think of part 1 so far! This sex scene is proally the most poetic smut I’ve ever written too, but Javi deserves it!! And this miniseries is packed full of easter egg references to the movie for funsies too!  

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to stay up to date on when I post!

~

“Tell me, doctor,” Mr. Guiterrez sighed in defeat, “How long do I have?”

“Couple of months maybe?” the doctor’s shoulders dropped, “I can try and get you some experimental drugs to give you some more time. And I’ll do what I can to make you more comfortable, but this really isn’t my area of expertise, you know.”

“I am aware. But you are the only doctor I trust. And no one can know about this outside these walls.” Mr. Gutierrez had a solemn look on his face as he was finally confronted with his own mortality. 

The doctor nodded, “Of course. I will do my best, señor.” 

“You always do.”

The doctor was the most trusted and sought after medical professional in the cartel world. Anyone and everyone went to him, mostly for injuries, because he was the best and he was discrete. He was also your father, and the only family you ever had. While it wasn’t easy to grow up in the world of cartels and gangsters, you still maintained a good relationship with your father, and he did everything in his power to keep you safe in this dangerous world he brought you into.

Javi, on the other hand, was the opposite. He also grew up in the world of the underground, but he never had the father-son relationship others his age did. Perhaps Javi was too kind, too good a man for this type of life, and that wasn’t what his father had in mind for him. If anything, Javi’s cousin Lucas had more of that relationship and the senior Gutierrez took him more under his wing as the two boys got older.

Over time, the relationship with his father deteriorated to the point where Javi wanted nothing to do with him. He bought another house in secret and lived there on his own for some time, all the while planning to get out of the country and start a new life somewhere else. Yet, something held him back: you… 

But, just as the doctor promised, the experimental medicine did greatly help the senior Gutierrez with his diagnosis. However, as time went on, he became weaker and weaker until he wasn’t able to leave the safety of the doctor’s walls. 

Javi, his only son, was by his side every evening. Once Javi found out about his father’s illness, he chose to come back to him and mend the relationship before he passed. Javi was always a good man with a good heart, and even through a troubled relationship, he still tried his best. Even when there wasn’t much for them to talk about, he was there to support his father and stay with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

It was only one movie that the two were able to bond over, and the first stitch of a mended relationship began from there.

You walked into his room one day and saw the two Guiterrez men relaxed side by side in the small but comfortable room. They both had their eyes glued to the tv, both immersed in the movie they were watching together. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat to announce your presence that they looked over at you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said sheepishly, “I just wanted to check on you, Señor Gutierrez. How are you feeling?”

“Ah, the doctor’s daughter!” he exclaimed, “Always a pleasure to see you. You look radiant as ever,” he nodded over to the machines that remained hooked up to him, “The constant beeping is getting on my nerves, but what more can a dying man complain about?”

“Papa!” Javi exclaimed as he stood up, “I am sorry about my father. He can never hold his tongue at all.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle at Javi’s embarrassment, “How long have we all known each other? I’m used to his antics, Javi, it’s fine.”

Being the daughter of the most prominent doctor to gangs and cartels, you had put up with far worse than an off-color comment. Growing up, it was never easy, but your father always made sure you were safe, even in his dangerous line of work. As you got older, you started to help him out more, since his business was completely off the grid to keep his patients completely anonymous, even from each other.

It had gotten him in some trouble at times, but the cartels came to a truce that whatever happened within the walls of his clinic stayed there. Rivals would sometimes be wheeled past each other in the halls, and neither would make a move. And everyone came to an agreement that the doctor, and his daughter, would never be punished or harmed for treating those on the opposite side of their wars.

That was how you had met Javi. It was many years ago and he dragged his injured father into your father’s clinic. You had just started to help out, and you did what you could to clean and bandage the wound under the watchful eye of your father. Javi was enamored with you from the moment you met; you were strong and brave and beautiful and smart. You were perfect.

He could tell you had a good heart, even from what he was sure was hell at times. He had watched with those big, soft brown eyes while you cared for his father, but he kept his feelings closed off and never let you know how much he truly cared for you. It was too dangerous to get close to you.

So, Javi watched you from afar, but he always made sure to talk to you as much as he could whenever his father’s duties brought them both through the clinic doors. In Javi’s mind, there was at least one thing to look forward to at the clinic.

“You’re watching Guarding Tess again?” your light tone brought Javi back to the present, “This is the third time this week you’ve watched this.”

Javi let out a nervous chuckle, “Yeah, it’s our thing I guess.” Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice that Javi was staring at you while his thoughts raced.

“Didn’t you bring over Face Off last week too, Javi?” you asked as you fluffed his father's pillow and helped him get more comfortable.

“I did,” Javi’s face lit up at the mention of the movie, “It’s my favorite movie, though I do not think my father enjoyed it very much.”

“Psh,” Mr. Gutierrez waved his hand dismissively. He looked like he wanted to say more, but the way Javi’s face dropped made him change his mind. Perhaps he too wanted to end his life on a good note with his son after years of having a rocky relationship. “How about you? What’s your favorite movie?”

“Hmmm,” you thought, “That’s a tough question. It’s so hard to pick just one. But I think…” you paused as you mulled it over and Javi couldn’t help but notice how stunning you looked when your eyebrows scrunched together while you were deep in thought, “It’s a tie between Paddington 2 and Agora.”

“Excellent choices!” Jaci exclaimed. The truth was he would have said the same thing no matter what you said, because everything you did and everything you liked was perfect in his eyes.

Your face lit up in a smile as you met Javi’s eyes and he swore that he forgot to breathe for a moment. You had charmed him without any effort on your part, and every time he saw you, Javi was sure you got more and more beautiful. You were kind and smart and funny and easy to talk to when he had no one else. He felt like the two of you had a special connection, even if he buried his true feelings for you. It was strange to say that Javi at times looked forward to going to your father’s clinic because he knew he could see you there.

Little did Javi know that you secretly felt the exact same way about him. Javi had always been so gracious towards you since the day you met all those years ago, and you couldn’t help but picture his face in your mind when you were having a bad day. His soft eyes and warm smile made your heart skip a beat whenever you saw him, and you couldn’t help but think he was the sweetest man you had ever met in your life.

But, you knew what a big risk it would be to pursue anything with Javi since it could look like favoritism to the other cartels. Worst case scenario it could start an all out war, and that was the last thing you wanted. So, just like Javi, you kept your true feelings buried deep down and we’re grateful for the times you could see him.

“Javi, why don’t you bring over one of those movies next time. The lady has good taste,” Mr. Gutierrez’s voice broke though the silence that had fallen over the room.

“Whatever you want,” Javi’s voice was soft as you gave him a sympathetic smile and left the room.

Javi’s father passed away just a week after that.

*

You hadn’t been to the Gutierrez compound before, but it was magnificent. It sat right on the water, and the setting sun reflected light off the sea so beautifully. The buildings within the compound were old, but they were charming. Guards were posted everywhere, and the walls were built like a fortress, yet it still felt warm and inviting, even in the circumstances. You felt safe there, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the place itself or because of Javi’s presence.

Javi’s father’s funeral was short, but beautiful. Javi gave a eulogy filled with depth and emotions that you couldn’t help but cry at his words. And after the burial, family, friends, and close business associates gathered at the Gutierrez compound for his life celebration. While your father attended the funeral, he always passed on the gatherings afterwards.

“You go on,” your father insisted, “You’ll be my representative,” he said with a light chuckle.

The mood inside the compound was somber and melancholy, yet it felt comforting somehow. As if everyone remembering his life made it feel like he was still there. The senior Gutierrez may have been the founder and head of a major arms cartel, but he was well respected among the other leaders. Some would even say he was a good man, but you would argue that his son was the more honorable of the two.

While you tried to stay close to Javi, too many others vied for his attention as well, so you stepped back for a time and let the others offer their condolences as well. For a time, you ended up in idle conversation with his cousin, Lucas, who you had met several times at your father’s clinic as well. But, as the sun went down and the moon rose, you noticed that Javi had disappeared. So you excused yourself from the conversation and decided to go look for him. 

Javi sat in his room, alone, with a glass of alcohol in his hand and a movie on the tv in front of him that he only mildly paid attention to. He had retreated away when the well meaning consolations from everyone became too much and he just needed some time alone. However, there was one person that he wouldn’t mind joining him.

A knock at the door started him so much that he almost dropped his drink. Javi quickly rushed to his feet and set the glass down before it broke it before he called to the closed doorway, “Yes?”

The voice from the other end was exactly who he had hoped it would be.

“Javi?”

A grin lit up his face for the first time in days as he bolted to the door with your name in a whisper. When he pulled it open, you stood next to one of his guards, who looked at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry sir. She insisted on seeing you. Says it’s important.”

“It’s fine, gracias,” Javi shooed the guard away and extended his arm out in an invitation to you, “Come in, querida.”

It was the first time you’d been in Javi’s room, and it made your hands tingle with nerves. And it was only made worse when Javi stood just inches from you, his hand still firmly in yours. 

He must have read your mind because Javi suddenly let go of your hand and looked down with embarrassment, “Sorry,” he mumbled as his eyes met yours once more.

“It’s fine,” you whispered as you savored the warmth from his grip before it faded away. 

You saw every little detail on Javi’s face, from the way his curls fell on his forehead to the sharp angle of his nose to the slight bloodshot in his eyes that told you he had been crying. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t help the thoughts that popped into your head, even at a time like this.

“It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be heading home? Is something the matter?” Javi asked sincerely as he placed his hand on your arm and guided you towards the small ottoman that sat at the foot of his bed. 

“I just wanted to check on you,” your voice was soft as you fiddled with your fingers, “I was worried, I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

Javi’s eyes sparkled as he gave you a sad smile, “You do not need to worry about me, querida,” he replied in just as hushed a tone.

For several moments, neither of you knew what to say next. You found yourself lost in his eyes until your gaze dropped down and you realized that once again his hand still gripped your arm. With a quiet gasp, your eyes shot back up, and Javi’s eyes widened as he realized he still held you as well. You covered your hand over his and made it clear that you didn’t want him to let you go. 

And he didn’t want to either.

“Javi…”

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight,” Javi whispered as he brought his other hand up and cupped the side of your face, “More beautiful than the stars reflected off the sea… Mi estrella.”

His words took your breath away, and you felt like your skin was on fire. Part of you screamed to stop, since you were sure Javi was in a fragile emotional state and you didn’t want to make things weird between you. Yet, the other part of you wanted to keep going and see what he would do next. And you had dreamed of being this close to him for years.

“Javi,” you repeated his name, “Is this really a good idea? I mean, your father…”

“I’m alright, mi estrella,” Javi’s voice never faltered, “You of all people know I was never that close with my father,” he paused as he took a deep breath, “In fact, this has made me more sure that I shouldn’t let what is in front of me slip away.”

Every time he called you that nickname it made your heart pound in your chest. Vaguely, you wondered if you were dreaming, or if this was actually happening. Years of denying your feelings and dancing around each other finally came to a head at this moment. It wasn’t the ideal circumstances, but still you were in awe that this was really real. 

Javi’s face was only centimeters from yours, and you felt his breath on your lips. But, he did not move. He stayed perfectly still, his lips ghosting over yours, and you realized that he waited for you to make the final call. As badly as he wanted to kiss you, Javi wanted to be certain that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

And of course you did.

With a gasp, you closed the small gap between yourselves and kissed him. Immediately, the kiss erupted into more and Javi held you tightly with his large hands as the kiss deepend. Neither of you were sure who parted their lips first, but the moment your tongue met his, it was like an explosion of fire and feelings completely overcame you both. Desperately, you both clawed at each other, as if you couldn’t get close enough to him, and Javi gently guided you over to his bed.

“You are exquisite, mi estrella,” Javi murmured in between kisses as he tugged at your clothes. But something suddenly snapped in him, as if he regained control of his brain once more and he paused, “Are you sure this is what you want? If I am going too far just tell me and I’ll st…”

“Don’t you dare stop, Javi,” you grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him in for another heated kiss, “I’ve wanted you for so long,” you whispered as your hands worked on the buttons of his shirt.

Javi couldn’t help the smile as he exhaled heavily with relief and sighed your name, “I have longed for you since the moment we met.”

“Well, now you have me, Javi,” you breathed as you felt him carefully strip you of your clothes while you did the same to him, “Now what are you going to do with me?” you added with a coy smirk.

He didn’t answer you with his words, only with another kiss as he pulled the last piece of your outfit off and spun you around. He launched both of your bodies onto his bed, and both of you grunted as you landed on your back on the soft mattress with Javi’s full weight on top of you. He had barely touched you, and yet just having Javi on top of you already felt like a perfect dream come true.

Javi’s thoughts must have mirrored yours as his eyes wanted across your now fully naked body. His mouth dropped open in awe as he memorized every inch of your figure in the moonlight, “You are… So perfect,” his breath was heavy and ragged as his skin felt warmer and warmer by the second.

“So are you, Javi,” you reached up and cupped his face as you traced your thumb across his cheek. In the moonlight, the shadows danced across his face and his eyes sparkled. The soft shine from the curls that france his face highlighted him perfectly, and the look of pure admiration on his face was something you knew you would never forget. Javi Gutierrez was truly the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life, and now it was a fantasy come true for you to finally be with him.

“Now kiss me again,” you used the leverage of your face on his head to pull him flush against you.

Javi didn’t need to be told twice, and he surrendered to your touch as you crashed your lips together. He moaned into you as his hands wandered down to your breasts and gave them a soft squeeze. When you let out a gasp, Javi broke away to watch your expression as he kneaded your breasts and ran his fingers across your nipples. He felt himself harden with every moan and gasp you let out, and when he pinched your nipples a little bit harder and you threw your head back, he thought he might just cum then and there.

But Javi kept his composure as best he could, and he rocked his hardening length against your fold as he continued to play with your breasts. He positioned himself so that he hovered over you, and as he watched you lose yourself in the pleasure of his touch, he couldn’t help but attach his lips to your neck and suck hard at the sensitive skin there.

“Javi…” you moaned his name as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and rocked your hips against his.

“Mi estrella,” he groaned your name after his new nickname for you.

“Call me that again,” your voice wasn’t commanding, yet Javi felt the immediate need to obey your request.

“Mi estrella,” he repeated with a smile, and it warmed his heart to know you approved of the nickname he chose for you. You were always a shining star in the darkness that was his world, and the way you lit up in the night sky in this moment compared to nothing else. For so long, Javi thought you were out of reach, but to have you now was better than anything he ever could have imagined.

And Javi was sure he never wanted to let you go now.

Javi kissed his way down your body until he reached your breasts. He wrapped his lips around one of your nipples as he cupped your other breast. You let out a wanton moan as you dug your nails into his shoulders while he swirled his tongue around your nipple. You bucked your hips against his chest and Javi groaned into your skin when he felt the wetness from between your legs.

For such a solemn evening, the night became so perfect with you underneath him like this, but Javi still wanted more. He needed more. He needed you. So he continued to kiss his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of saliva and affection along the way. But when he finally reached your pussy, he paused.

“Can I taste you, mi estrella?” Javi’s voice was low and heavy and his curls fell into his face as his chest heaved. He looked as if he would suffocate if he didn’t lick your pussy, but he still held back and waited for your permission.

“Please,” you breathed as you cupped his face.

Wasting no time, Javi suddenly dove in between your legs and gripped your thighs tightly as he covered your cunt with his mouth. The scream you let out when you felt his tongue on your clit went right to his cock, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you.

You tasted so good, and the more Javi ran his tongue up and down your folds the more he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were. He could spend every night, every morning, whenever you wanted buried between your legs.

“Oh shit… Javi… Jav…”

As Javi flicked his tongue on your clit while he kneaded your thighs, you felt completely lost in the bliss. You felt like you floated on the Mediterranean Sea outside instead of his bed. And Javi seemed to know exactly what spots drive you crazy as you felt the tingle of an approaching orgasm before you knew it.

“Javi I’m…” 

He groaned into you as he picked up his pace, desperate for you to cum against him. And it only took a few more licks of his tongue for him to get what he wanted. With a low moan and your hands tightly buried in Javi’s hair, you came hard. Your legs trembled in his grip as waves of pleasure crashed through you over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You yanked Javi off of you, and the two of you panted in silence for several long moments. Javi had a glazed over expression on his face as his chin glistened from the evidence of your climax. But even as his cock throbbed with need, all Javi could think of was you. How beautiful you looked lost in your bliss like that, how much he wanted to please you, take care of you, grow old with you…

But, Javi was knocked out of his thoughts when you bucked your hips against his and let out a low whimper, “Javi… Please… Fuck me… I need you inside me.”

His cock twitched and Javi froze his movements. He took just a moment to admire you underneath him before he spoke, “I am not going to fuck you, mi estrella,” his voice was low with need as he guided his cock to your entrance and pushed just the tip in. Both of you gasped but he held himself back to finish his thought, “I am going to make love to you.”

Before you could retort with something smart, Javi pushed himself into you more, and every thought you had was instantly gone. All the thoughts in your head were only of him, and how good his cock felt as he slowly pushed himself inside you inch by inch. 

“Fuck… Javi…”

He groaned through gritted teeth as he murmured your name, “Fuck you feel so good… Ahhh.”

“Shit, Javi,” you clung to him as if your life depended on it, “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop.”

Javi wasted no time and slowly thrust himself in and out of you at a steady pace. Moans and groans from both of you filled the room as Javi filled you over and over again. Mumbled curses in between the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy completed the chorus of your lovemaking.

“Mi estrella,” Javi groaned, “I am not going to last much longer… You feel… Ahh, you’re incredible… You’re…”

“Javi,” you cut him off as you bucked your hips against his and clenched your inner muscles around his cock, “You’re incredible… You’re amazing… You’re… Fuck!”

Javi snaked his hand in between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, and he savored the scream you let out as he interrupted your thoughts. Your cries only got louder and louder the more he fiddled with your clit, and from the way he felt you tightened around him, Javi knew you were close.

“Come on, mi estrella,” Javi cooed, “Cum for me again. Let me see you… Let me feel you…”

Your eyes fluttered open as you gaze into his eyes and for a moment you lost yourself completely. Your entire world became only Javi and his touch; everything else melted away. But, your sudden climax brought you back to Earth and you came hard with a loud scream. As Javi pounded into you and rubbed at your clit, your entire body trembled around him as you clung to him. Between how good he felt fucking you and the emotions of finally being with him, it was almost too much and tears filled your eyes as you rode out your second orgasm of the night.

With a moan of your name, Javi came right after you. The spectacular show you put on for him went straight to his cock, and his heart. You were everything he dreamed of and so much more, and to give you such pleasure was everything to Javi. And the way you felt so warm and tight around his cock only made his feelings for you grow until he couldn’t take it anymore and spilled himself deep inside you.

Once he had no more to give, Javi collapsed on top of you and both of you grunted from the sudden movement. Heavy breaths filled the room as neither of you had the energy to move. You felt Javi’s cock twitch inside you and it made you whine softly.

“Shit, are you ok?” Javi said your name as he pushed himself onto his elbows with a lot of effort and slowly slid out of you.

You let out another whimper as you suddenly felt so empty without Javi inside you, but he was at your side in an instant. His concerned eyes looked into your soul and it took you a moment to find your voice, “Perfect,” you finally replied before you pulled him in for another kiss.

This kiss was softer and slower, but still full of emotions. As Javi moaned into your mouth and allowed you to take his tongue with yours once again, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close to you. When you both needed to break away for air, you guided Javi to rest on your chest. Neither of you spoke, but perhaps no words were needed as you rested together on Javi’s bed, tangled up in each other. 

Perhaps because he was exhausted emotionally as well as physically, but it took Javi no time to fall asleep in your arms. His head rested on your chest as the sound of your heartbeat quickly lulled him off to sleep. You, however, stayed awake for some time and just listened to the sounds of his soft snores. You ran your hands through his hair as you cradled his naked body against yours. And in that moment, everything was perfect. 

*

The sun had barely bagan to touch Javi’s skin when the sound of his phone woke him from a peaceful slumber. It had been so long since he had slept that well that Javi felt disoriented for a moment. The melody of his ringtone continued to play as he groaned and slowly blinked his eyes open. He tried to turn over, but a weight held him in place, and suddenly a rush of emotions jolted Javi fully awake.

You were still sound asleep in his bed, your warmth against his body a welcome comfort in the turmoil that was his life lately. Javi let out a deep sigh as he thought back to the night before and how beautiful you looked while lost in your passions. Even now, sound asleep, you looked like an angel from the stars. As he reached out and gently brushed his fingertips along your face, his phone started to ring again.

“Ay si, si I’m coming, I’m coming,” Javi mumbled a string of curses in Spanish as he carefully rolled over as to not wake you, “Si?” he answered his phone and pushed himself to the edge of the bed with his back to you.

“Ay primo there you are!” Lucas said from the other end of the line, “I’m downstairs, we need to talk. Get down here right away.”

Javi sighed as he ran his hand over his face and through his hair, “Lucas, this isn’t a good time. I…”

“Yes yes, I know you had company last night,” he interrupted, “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“Alight. I’ll be right down,” Javi sounded defeated as he hung up the phone and stood up. He stretched before he walked over to his closest, grabbed the first thing he saw and quickly dressed. He ran his hands through his messy curls to tame them, not fully caring about making himself fully presentable.

But, Javi let out a surprised yelp when he turned around and saw you were sitting up with the blankets pulled up to your chest.

“Ay, estrella,” he clutched his chest as he tried to calm his pounding heart, “You scared me. I didn’t hear you wake up.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his exaggerated reaction, “Sorry Javi,” you covered your mouth and tried to hide your grin, “You seemed deep in thought, I didn’t want to make you lose concentration.”

Javi let out a deep breath as the corners of his lips turned up into a faint smile. Even with the new burdens he now felt after his father’s passing, you still managed to make your way into his heart and give him a moment of brightness in this dark time. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed and cupped your face with his hand, “Mi estrella, you always make me lose concentration,” he murmured, “But you are a more than welcome distraction.”

“I hope I’m more than just a distraction,” you whispered in a nervous tone. 

You had always had feelings for Javi, but you kept them buried deep down, that was until last night happened. And now that the dam broke, you weren’t sure what would happen next. From the way he held you and thrust into you last night, you were sure he felt the same way about you, but you also knew that it was dangerous to let your guard down, even around him. Yet, something about Javi made you want to take that risk.

Javi brushed his thumb across your skin and looked at you with the kindest, most warm expression you had ever seen, “Of course you are,” he said your name in a hushed tone that still held all his emotions, “It’s just…”

A knock at Javi’s door interrupted, “Sir?” a guard in front of the other side of the door called, “Your cousin is waiting for you.”

Both you and Javi dropped your gazes down and noticed that while you were talking, you slid your hand into his. Matching sighs escaped both your lips and you trailed your eyes back up Javi’s arm only to find that he was already looking right at you.

“I won’t be long, estrella,” he said, “We can continue this when I get back?”

You only nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

“Good,” Javi gave you a smile, “Wait here, I shouldn’t be long.” He leaned forward, as if he wanted to kiss you goodbye, but he decided against it. Instead, Javi gave your hand a squeeze before he let go and left you alone in his room: something he wished he didn’t have to do.

*

“Hey, cousin!” Lucas extended his arms out as Javi walked through the door, “I take it you had a good night?”

“It was fine,” Javi said shyly as he sat down at the table across from his cousin, “What was it that you needed to discuss that couldn’t wait?”

“Right to the point today, I see,” Lucas remarked with a grin. After a moment of silence, he continued, “Alright, I’ll get to it then,” he took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat, “Now, your father appointed us both leaders of his cartel before he passed. And business is booming, so we don’t have any time to lose.”

Javi nodded and closed his eyes; he already knew he wasn’t going to like what his cousin had to say.

“You and I both know that between the two of us, I am better suited to actually handle the business. I spent the most time with your father learning everything there is to know…”

“So, you want to take the business yourself?” Javi guessed.

“In a way,” Lucas smirked as he leaned forward, “I am going to run everything from the shadows, and you are going to be the figurehead. It’s a classic misdirection! The world will think it’s you but in fact all the deals will be safe with me. That way the business stays safely handled and no one will ever tear us down. We’ll be unstoppable!”

Javi felt a pit in his stomach. He had hoped that with his father’s death, he could just pass the cartel off to Lucas or another trusted family member and he could leave the business for good. Maybe then he could finally take you out on a proper date with the fear of getting you hurt. He could live the life he wanted to live, with you. 

However, that didn’t seem to be in the cards for him.

“But Lucas, I…”

“No, I know what you're going to say,” he interrupted, “If this is about the doctor’s daughter…”

“You leave her out of this,” Javi swiftly stood up as he raised his voice more than he meant to.

Lucas, however, was only amused at the outburst, “You want to protect her, right? Well, this is how you can. I give you my word, we will keep her safe, but only if you do what I say.”

Javi balled his hands into fists as he mulled it over. Deep down, he knew that once his cousin wanted something, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Javi also knew that having you as leverage was dangerous, but he would do anything to protect you. With a defeated sigh, Javi nodded, “Ok.”

Lucas stood and patted him on the shoulder, “Alright! Now we’re in business.”

*

Javi hung his head low as he walked through the compound back to his room. Just as he thought his life might change, circumstances got in the way. They always did somehow. Now, he was faced with how to handle things moving forward, and what was the best to keep you safe. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of him, even though he knew you were a strong person.

“Javi!” your voice broke him out of his thoughts as he entered his room. His eyes landed on your figure, dressed in your clothes from last night and seated at the window with a book from his bookshelf in your hands, “I was starting to worry, you took so long,” you stood and moved over to him, but your demeanor changed when you saw the solemn look in his face, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

This was harder than he thought, and all Javi wanted to do was pull you in his arms and tell you the truth after he saw the look of concern on your face. But, he had to remain strong, for your sake. 

“I…” he cleared his throat, “I have business to attend to,” he lied, “Someone will get your car for you.”

“Ok…” you weren’t sure what to make of his sudden cold attitude, “Is everything ok? Is there something I can do?” You were worried; this wasn’t like him at all.

“No,” he replied back a little too quickly and too forcefully, “No,” he repeated in a softer tone, “I umm, I don’t think we should see each other for a while.”

“Oh…” 

In just one word, Javi heard the heartbreak in your voice, and it took everything in him not to reach out and comfort you. But, he stayed stoic as he turned away from you.

“I see,” you dropped your gaze down to the floor as you gathered your things, “I guess that answers my question from earlier. I’ll just leave then.” When you reached the doorway and stood next to Javi, you whispered, “Sorry for your loss, Javi.”

The sound of your voice broke Javi’s heart more than you knew, but he had to remind himself he was doing this for you as he heard you walk out the door. He stood in silence for several long minutes as he imagined you getting into your car and driving away, unknowingly taking his heart with you. It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure that he was truly alone that Javi collapsed down to the floor with his head in his hands. 

It would be years until the two of you saw each other again.

#Javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x y/n #javi gutierrez imagine #javi gutierrez fic #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez fanfic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #tuwomt fic #tuwomt fanfic #fic: la estrella de mi vida

[wonderofasunrise]

She pauses, again taking in all of her beloved’s scent. It is as comforting as it is thrilling, and even after so many months she is still amazed at the contentment it brings like none other. It brings her the feeling of security she has never felt in years, the sense of peace she never thought she would ever find again after what she had seen while fighting with the Maquis. It makes her feel at home for the first time ever, and the irony is not lost on her that it happens when she is stuck in the Delta Quadrant of all places. B'Elanna finds truth in an old Klingon adage under the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Se han besado tu vida y mi vida (AO3)

DAY 7 OF STAR TREK FEMSLASH WEEK 2023 - HOLODECK ADVENTURE/FREE SPACE

#startrekfemslashweek2023 #fic:se han besado tu vida y mi vida #fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #star trek fic #star trek: voyager #star trek: voy #writing stuff #wonderofasunrise #b7 #b'elanna torres x seven of nine #b'elanna x seven #b'elanna torres #seven of nine

[boomtastics]

I'm quitting.

No this isn't a joke I actually am. The reason why is simply I don't like twst anymore and I'm not the confident in my writing.

I want to post writings that I'm proud of not ones that are half-assed or not giving the love and care it deserves.

I'm really sorry to all of you that liked my writing or that just liked talking to me and I'm kinda mad I didn't get to write for everyone of my silly little boys yk?

All of the requests I have right now will be completed but after that there's gonna no more.

"Does this mean you'll delete your account?"

No, one of my works might be a favorite of someone's and I don't want them to lose it and plus I want to see what I can improve on.

"Will you ever write again?"

Yes, probably for something else and when I like my writing more.

"Do you have any other socials?"

Main one is discord Ezran#696969 and anything else is probably under Booming_boom, booming_bomb, EzranEzran, or something similar.

"Will you still be on tumblr?"

Probably on my actual main but this one, My writing account won't be active.

"Is there any other reason you're quitting?"

First off, that's kinda rude and second, yeah

I got really stressed because I want my grades to be good and for that I need to study

but that takes along time and so does writing and not to mention I work and have a big family so I need to take care of them and writing is a little hobby is had yk?

If you have anymore questions just ask I'll answer them it's fine but please put it in the comments so it's easier for me but I dont really care

Final thought?

I love you guys!! I started writing to share my silly little ideas and didn't expect so many people to like them, especially some people that made me write in the first place and my idols (Ciel, Eros, literally all of my silly mooties). You've all made my silly little journey so much better and trust me if I didn't have any mutuals at all I would be so scared to interact with anyone </3.

Now, I'm gonna go make my layout as pretty as possible so that I don't have a random urge to change it.

interact with @silly-ez if you just wanna talk or whatever

Remember that I love you!! Every single one of you!!

go drink water, get some rest and I'm gonna go pass out..Have a good day!!!

Project RoBo is online.

#booming rb! #booming random! #booming talked! #booming fics! #booming hcs! #el amor de mi vida! #booming announcement! #PROJECT: R0B0 0NL1NE

[stars-n-spice]

RAAAAAHH!!!

it's actually so fucking unfair that I can't have Wrecker over for Korean BBQ and then end the night dancing and singing away to Selena.

#just wanna have fun with the big guy :( #rip wrecker you would've loved korean bbq #you don't understand how badly i just wanna dance with this man #ugghhh it is fucking racist and homophobic that i cannot do this with him #i should be allowed to eat korean bbq and listen to selena with him #y'know like #stuff our faces with korean bbq #get drunk off soju #spend the rest of the night with karaoke #and dancing #sighhhhhh #you don't understand #dulce amor is the most fitting song for that man #i love selena so much #and i love wrecker #put the two together? #damn #anyways #max back on their wrecker shit #i might indulge and write a self insert fic or like draw something idk #TÚ ERES TODO TODO MI MUNO #Y SOLO VIVO PARA TI #DULCE AMOR #RAAAAH #it's late #sorry ya'll #tbb wrecker #wrecker bad batch #wrecker mi vida mi amor #te quiero mucho

[mad-as-a-box-of-frogs]

Imagine Jake co-fronting (or this happens in the headspace) and finding a beaten and battered Marc, gently grasping his chin, and quietly asking “Who hurt you?“ with a promise of violent retribution in his voice

#I’d write this fic if I wasn’t already fighting for my life with the one in front of me #bonus points if it’s ‘who hurt you mi vida?’ #Jakemarc #moon knight #this or a separte bodies au but I think it works fine as is

[hide-in-imagination]

Aviso que Taylor no viene a Chile, así que voy a tratar de conseguir entradas en Argentina. Si no puedo, voy a suicidarme, así que no habrán más actualizaciones de fics 💕 Gracias por comprender🙏🏻

#c speaks #fic related #sencillamente mi vida pende de un hilo

[mantecol]

I hate fast reblogging when I am scrOLLING

#este fue el peor accidente de mi vida. ahora en edit agrego este TW de fanfiction de gente real #ME RECOMENDO TUMBLR UN FIC SMUT DE UNO DE ATEEZ PORQUE SIGO A YUNHO Y CAISBSJEEJ LPM MO ALMA #Cuando LE DI REBLOG POARA PASAR Y VI LA VEEGA ESA VERDE DE SE HA REBLOGUEADO EN MANTECOL #Como VOMO DESACTIVO EL FAST REVLOG #EDTOY EN EL PISO MATNDOME

[thefulcrumfiles]

No mames ya no puedo sentir nada

#tengo hambre tengo sed #me acabo de leer una fic de sam. una fic de sam que sí vale la pena #despues de AÑOS de no leer ni una sola fic de sam aquí estamos y estuvo hermoso #casi como si hubiera sido real. wow #solo...no creo que exista una persona tan perfecta para mí como él. simplemente no existen #y ya. terminé más vacía porque yo tengo que seguir con mi vida y me siento a morir #pero al menos obtuve algo con lo que entretenerme en medio del caod #caos* #en medio del deseo y la desesperación de tener a alguien que te salve. aunque tu sepas que no lo mereces #wow. #sam winchester #alstalking

[flightlessangelwings]

La Estrella de mi Vida, Part 3/3

Javi Gutierrez x fem!reader (nicknamed “Estrella” no use of y/n)

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only!!), feelings, minor character death, minor violence, protective!Javi, some angst, fluff, love confessions, happy ending

Notes: And we have come to the final part of this little miniseries! I’m super proud of this one and I just love Javi so much he deserves everything!! Thank you to those who have been reading and reblogging this one it means a lot to me!! Also, kudos to those who regnoize the reference with the antaoginst in this chapter lol! 

Sidenote this gif makes me feel things omg!!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to turn on post notifs and stay up to date on when I post!

~

“Oh Javi… Fuck… Yes!”

“Estrella, you are… Fuck… You feel so good.”

You bounced on Javi’s cock as you rode him in the moonlight. For the past several months, the two of you had been seeing each other in secret. While he was still healing from his accident, it was easier for you to come to the compound every few days to check on him. But as Javi got better, it was harder for you to come up with an excuse to go over there. 

True to your word though, you somehow found a way and you and Javi figured out ways to sneak around together without being seen. And even though you had to keep the relationship a secret, neither of you had ever been happier. 

Javi loved the gift you got him, and he quickly returned the favor for you. One night while you laid in bed together, he gave you a beautiful necklace with a little star charm on it. Tears formed in your eyes that night from the overwhelming emotions and it made Javi’s heart flip in his chest.

And you looked so beautiful to Javi when you rode him wearing only the necklace. 

Javi moaned your name as he felt your pussy clench around him. He reached for your clit with his thumb while his hands still gripped your hips tightly. The moment his finger made contact with your already sensitive clit, you cried out in pleasure and came after only a few more thrusts.

With a low groan of your name through gritted teeth, Javi came right after you and both of you rocked against the other as you rode out your climaxes. Completely spent, you collapsed down beside him with a loud huff.

“You alright, estrella?” Javi asked with a soft chuckle as he rested his hand on your side.

“Never been better,” you breathed with a smile as you opened your eyes and looked up at him. At that moment, you knew why he liked the moon and starlight so much because the reflection against his face made him look even more beautiful than usual.

But you were caught off guard by the expression on his face. Javi seemed lost in thought and he stared at you as if he was afraid you would disappear. Both of you knew having a secret relationship had risks, but you knew what you were getting into with this. And each of you would say that the other was well worth that risk.

“What is it, Javi?” you asked softly as you reached for him.

I love you.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, yet he couldn’t find the strength to say them. He wanted to, he felt it in his heart, yet he couldn’t. Maybe it would have made things even tougher to hide. Maybe it would have put you in more danger.

“I…” Javi whispered your name as he cupped your face. He brushed his thumb along your jaw before he trailed his fingers down your neck and to the necklace that laid between your breasts. “You are stunning, mi estrella.”

Before you could reply, Javi pounced on you and attached his lips to your neck. He moaned against your skin with a grin as he tickled you with his tongue and covered his body over yours. You couldn’t help the giggle you let out as you wrapped your arms around him and held him close.

*

“You seem happy, mija,” your father said to you one night while the two of you closed up the clinic.

While he kept a close eye on you to keep you protected, your father tended to stay out of your personal life. He wished you would open up to him more, but he understood why you didn't. The path he made for you didn’t allow much for personal pleasures, and he knew you only kept your heart locked away to keep yourself safe. You were a stronger person than he ever could have hoped for, he just wished you didn’t have to live with walls built up so high. 

It did make your father happy to see you smile so much though.

You let out a dreamy sigh, “I guess I am, papa.” You fiddled with the necklace Javi gave you. From the moment he put it on you, it never came off, and it became a comfort for you to play with it when you were nervous or lost in thought.

Your father grinned, “Are you going to tell me about that necklace anytime soon? Or am I not privy to that knowledge?”

“Well…” you paused as your mind raced. You knew any secret would be safe with your father, and you knew he thought Javi was a good man. It still felt weird though to actually tell him, and you didn’t want to put him in any rough position.

“It’s the Gutierrez boy isn’t it?” Your father interrupted your thoughts when he saw the conflict in your face.

“What?” you gasped, “How…? When…?”

Your father burst into laughter, “I knew you liked him from the day you two met,” he put his hand on your shoulder, “Of all the men you and I encounter in our lives,” he told you, “Javi is the one I trust with you the most. He’s a good man, mija. And he’s good for you.”

“You’re not mad I’m seeing him?” you were stunned by his words, even if they were happy ones, “This could cause some real trouble if anyone ever found out. I mean the clinic…”

“The clinic means nothing to me, mija,” he interrupted, “As long as you are safe and happy.”

Tears filled your eyes as you embraced your father, “Thank you papa.”

Just as he was about to say something, a clang at the doorway called both your attention. A shadowy figure loomed in the doorway, and immediately shivers ran down your spine. Your father quickly pushed you behind him and raised his hands in front of him.

“Señor,” he spoke to the menacing figure, “If this is an emergency, come with me. Otherwise, you’ll have to leave.”

The figure picked his head up so that you saw his face for the first time, and the rage in his eyes made your blood run cold. You gasped quietly as you gripped your father’s arm and suddenly felt like a helpless child again. He kept his body in front of yours as a shield, though and never faltered.

When the figure spoke, you recognized the voice, “You,” he pointed at your father, “You killed my brother. You’re supposed to be the best, and you let him die!” he shouted angrily, “I’m going to make you pay.”

Before either you or your father could respond, a gunshot rang through the clinic, followed by a scream.

*

It was late into the night and Javi was settled comfortably on his couch. A glass of freshly open wine sat on the table and a warm fire lit up the room from behind him. He was about to watch a movie, and Javi thought the only thing that would make this peaceful night better was if you were here with him. 

He always wanted you with him, especially at night. The nights when he had to sleep alone felt cold and lonely, but he knew both of you had to be careful. So the nights you shared were few and far between, as much as both of you hated it.

But just as Javi got comfortable, his phone rang.

He scrunched his brows, “Who could be calling so late at night?” Javi wondered to himself.

Javi reached for his phone and his face lit up when he saw your name and photo on the screen. It was risky, sure, but Javi just had to have pictures of you for himself. His heart sped up as he answered it and raised the phone to his ear, “Estrella!”

But his face quickly dropped when you panted on the other end of the line, “Javi?”

He shot up to his feet and spoke your real name, “What’s wrong, amor?”

You sounded scared and out of breath. Javi had never heard you sound like that before, and it scared him to death. Already, he wanted to do whatever he could to help you. Javi would jump into the ice cold sea in the dead of winter for you, he would walk through fire for you, he would shoulder any pain for you, he would take a bullet for you.

“It’s my father… He…” you choked back a sob as you whispered into the phone, “Someone…”

“Where are you, Estrella?” Javi sounded firm only to hide the fear in his tone. He knew he had to be strong for you right now, and he needed a clear head.

“The clinic,” you whispered back, “And I’m not alone.”

Javi grinded his teeth as he clenched his jaw, “I’m coming, Estrella. Just hang on.”

“Javi… Hurry…” you gasped and hung up the phone.

“Estrella?!” Javi shouted your name as he couldn’t hide the panic anymore. But the line beeped and Javi knew time was ticking. So he quickly dialed another number and prayed he would pick up, “Lucas?” He said before his cousin could finish his greeting, “I need your help.”

*

You tried to keep your breaths steady as you crouched down under the desk in your father’s office. The gunshot hit your father right in the chest and both of you crashed down to the floor. You had never let out such a pained scream in your entire life, but watching your father bleed out in your arms made you feel so scared and helpless.

He reached up and cupped your face slowly, and you heard how ragged his breathing was.

“Hang on papa,” you sobbed as you covered the gunshot wound with your bare hands, not caring that the shooter still stood only feet away, “Just hold on… I need…”

“Run,” he croaked weakly. But when you didn't listen he grabbed you as hard as he could and repeated in a stronger voice, “Run.”

You weren’t going to leave him, but your father used the last of his strength to push you away, and you decided to listen. You barely were able to form a thought as you let your legs guide you down the hallway while you heard the shooter speak to your father. You couldn’t tell exactly what he said, especially as you ran away from that room and looked for a place to hide. But you yelped again when you heard a second shot.

That was when you knew you needed to call someone, and only one name came to mind.

Fear ran though you as you stayed hidden while you waited for Javi to come, and you only hoped he wouldn’t be too late. While you crouched under the desk, you heard several crashes and doors slamming as the shooter searched for you. He even called out your name in a taunting voice as he went from room to room in search of you. And as he got closer, you knew you couldn’t stay where you were.

You listened for the distinct noises he made, and you knew you only had one chance to time this right, or else you… You shook the thought from your head as you poised yourself to run. Usually, one crash of the door was followed by about a minute of silence while he searched the other room, and that was your window to escape. So, patiently, you waited…

Crash!

With a deep breath, you got to your feet. Just as you were about to bolt for the door, a hand covered your mouth and another grabbed your arm. You tried to scream, but the large hand muffled the sound and you struggled in your captor’s arms until you heard a familiar voice.

“Estrella,” Javi whispered in your ear, “It’s me.”

You gasped as you stilled yourself and Javi released his hold on you. Stunned, you turned around and you let go of the breath you held as you saw his face, “Javi,” you breathed as you wrapped your arms around him and clung to him tightly, “You came.”

Javi let out a relieved sigh as he held you just as tightly as you held him, “I came.” The two of you stayed like that for a moment until another crash interrupted your reunion, “Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

He tried to lead you away, but the sudden rush of emotions overtook you and you couldn’t move, “Javi…” you sobbed, “My father… He…”

“Shhh,” Javi cupped your face as he rested his forehead against yours, “We need to get out of here for now. I need to get you safe.”

Too overtaken by your grief, you let Javi guide you out into the hallway, He held your hand securely in his as he checked outside the doorway first, “Coast is clear,” he mumbled before he led you out, “Come,” he guided you down the darkened hallway in silence.

The door was just within reach, Javi could almost touch it when a voice called your name from the other end of the hallway. Javi immediately spun around and pushed you behind him. He reached for his gun and pointed it right at the voice without hesitation, and all you could do was cower behind him, too paralyzed by fear and emotions to react and think properly.

The voice let out a gasp of surprise as he stepped into a beam of moonlight, “Javi Gutierrez?” he seemed shocked at the face he saw, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Javi’s eyes went wide as he too regnozied your attacker, “Ernesto de la Cruz?” 

The de la Cruz family was new on the scene, but they were more dangerous than anyone you had ever seen before. Ernesto and his brother were like wildfires on the cartel scene, and their raging tempers couldn’t be tamed. They were violent and dangerous and not people you want to cross. They were notorious for starting fights, and finishing them. After Ernesto’s brother got involved in a bad deal, he ended up badly injured, and your father tried his best to save him but there was nothing he could do.

When you whimpered behind him, Javi steadied himself and tightened his grip on his weapon, “Why are you attacking the clinic?!”

Ernesto scoffed, “That bitch’s father got my brother killed! He was supposed to save everyone, no biases. So I brought my brother here after a deal went south, but the fucking doctor said it was too late,” he spat on the floor, “In my family, it’s an eye for an eye, so I came here to make him feel how I felt,” his eyes landed on your trembling figure behind Javi, “But the doctor got in the way and fucked me over again.”

“Even the best doctor cannot save everyone!” Javi shouted back, “And we have a truce that the doctor and his daughter are never harmed. Do you realize what you have done now?!”

“You want to argue about truces, Gutierrez?” Ernesto howled back, “When it looks like you’re more familiar with her than you should be?” he sneered as a wicked grin came across his face, “Maybe I won’t kill her… Maybe I’ll just take her for myself since everyone seemed to want to defend her so much,” he stepped closer and Javi pushed you back to keep the distance, “I want to see what all the fuss is about with this woman too…”

“You stay away from her,” Javi threatened as he cocked his gun.

Ernesto didn’t seem scared. In fact, he seemed amused, “Have it your way,” he aimed right at Javi, “Just one less cartel to stand in my way anyway.”

A gunshot rang out in the hallway.

“Javi!” you screamed.

Instead of firing, Javi shrieked and turned around and wrapped his arms around you and hurled you both to the ground. More than killing a rival, Javi wanted to protect you and keep you safe. You mattered to him more than the money, the notoriety, the status. And if he gave his life defending you, Javi was fine with that. He would die for you any day if it meant you would walk away safe.

Both you and Javi dropped to your knees in tears. You clung to his shirt as he held you as close as he could and used his broad shoulders to keep you sheltered. Both of you held your breaths as you waited for something to happen. But when you heard a thud, the breath caught in your chest.

Slowly, Javi peeked over his shoulder and saw Ernesto dead on the ground. As his eyes trailed up, he saw his cousin Lucas standing over the body with a gun in his hand and a smirk on his face.

“You owe me one, primo,” he said in a low tone before he turned and walked away. Lucas couldn’t have been happier with how the night turned out; he got rid of a problem and earned a favor from Javi both at once. But he also didn’t want to stick around anymore and now that the situation didn’t concern him anymore he took his leave. 

Once the two of you were alone, Javi turned back to you and whispered your name, “Are you ok? Look at me,” he brought your face up so he could look at you. Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes were red, and you trembled badly, but you seemed unhurt.

“Javi…” you sobbed. 

“Oh shit,” he cupped the back of your head and pulled you forward so that you were cradled against his chest, “I’m so sorry, mi amor.”

*

A couple weeks went by before you felt like yourself again, but Javi barely left your side the entire time. He doted on you like you were a queen, and he made sure you had everything you needed. The few times he had to leave you, he made sure you were securely in his room and left a guard posted right outside the door.

“Estrella…” Javi walked into the room and saw you at his desk, “Is everything ok?”

It was mostly a rhetorical question; you had watched your father die in front of you after all. And you were almost shot at yourself. Of course he knew you weren’t ok. But, Javi hoped that you at least were able to calm yourself while you stayed with him. But when you looked up at him, you had fresh tears in your eyes and Javi immediately rushed to your side, “What’s wrong?”

You sniffled as you felt the comforting warmth of Javi’s arms engulf you, “Javi… You…”

He looked over at the screen of his laptop and saw what you had been looking at. It was his screenplay. The very one you encouraged him to write all those months ago. Javi had been working on it on the nights when he couldn’t see you, and it reflected his emotions in a way he couldn’t put into words.

He let out a soft laugh as he held you, “What do you think?” Javi hoped that the subject was ok for you to talk about, and that he wasn’t being selfish with the question. But, he also really wanted to know. Especially since…

“Javi,” you lifted yourself and looked into his eyes, “It’s beautiful,” you paused as you reached for his jaw and rested your hand on his face, “Is it really about me?”

The screenplay was a romantic story filled with drama, passion and intrigue. Javi found that it was easiest for him to write from his own inspiration, and the biggest influence he had on his life was you. He wanted to write something that would make the whole world fall in love with you the way he did while still keeping you for himself.

He let out another soft laugh, “Was naming the character Stella too obvious?” he joked.

That made you smile for the first time in weeks, “No,” you leaned in, “I love it.”

Neither of you moved as your lips hovered over his. Javi’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched your every little expression. And to hear that one word from your lips made his skin tingle. Javi couldn’t keep it to himself anymore.

“I love you, mi Estrella,” he whispered before he kissed you so softly yet so passionately. 

You moaned into his mouth as you clung to him. Javi held you tightly as he desperately poured all his feelings into the kiss. And it left you breathless.

“I love you too Javi,” you murmured against his lips when you finally broke away. Javi exhaled heavily as his face lit up in a smile brighter than the sun before he cupped your face and kissed you again.

Nothing would be the same for either of you from now on, both you and Javi knew that. And though you were now free to choose your own path, being with Javi still came with many risks. But, you were both ready to take on the world and figure it out. As long as you had each other, that was all that mattered. 

#Javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #fic: la estrella de mi vida #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x y/n #javi gutierrez imagine #javi gutierrez fic #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez fanfic #Pedro Pascal #Javi g #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #tuwomt fic #tuwomt fanfic

[mayunagioia]

Who loves reading old fanfics and WIPs instead of writing?

This mf bye

#Fanfiction #Fanfic #procrastinating #Writing #I'm a guilty mf #Perdoname madre por mi vida loca #Using Tumblr instead of Twitter #tumblr is the new twitter #sorry i don't make the rules #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #JJK #jujutsu kaisen #Jujutsu #Fanfictions #Fics

[rawr-bitches]

just found out one of my all time fav fics is GONE bc the author deleted all their accounts

#the good thing is i downloaded the fic a few months ago #so i have it but still #all their work is gone 🥲 #mi vida #and it was the only tormund fic that was so beautifully written like #i’m in pain

[kombuuuu]

Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)

also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT

warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times

I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)

—

Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..

-Profession.

It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.

Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.

He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.

So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.

And he didn’t try to understand why.

—

It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.

Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.

It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).

Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.

Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.

Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—

“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”

"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."

A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.

A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.

The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.

A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.

“Hey, mami.”

Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.

“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.

“I tripped.”

You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.

“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.

Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.

He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.

You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.

He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.

“No está tan mal, ma.”

"It's not so bad, ma."

His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.

His boxers,—

—,his hand twitched.

“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”

The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.

You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.

You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.

“No digas que es sólo un corte.”

"Don't say it's just a cut."

“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.

“You look good like this, mami.”

You choked slightly, glaring up at him.

“Take off your jacket, Morales.”

"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."

"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."

“One more word.”

“Understood.”

He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.

It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.

“What were you cut with, Papi?”

His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.

“A knife, probably.”

Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.

“Figures.”

You hid your smile.

He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.

“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”

"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."

He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.

“I am gentle.”

“Sure.”

You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.

The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.

“There, all done.”

“Not gonna kiss it better?”

You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.

Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.

“Lay down, baby.”

He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”

Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.

“Gon’ spoil you after this.”

You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.

“You already spoil me, Papi.”

Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.

“‘S’cause you deserve it.”

He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.

You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”

“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.

“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.

The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.

“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”

“Hopefully.”

“Miles.”

You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”

He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.

He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.

He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.

Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.

“Much.”

He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.

It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.

—

first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again

as angst is all i’m good for

i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good

IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales

[yuujoh]

6, 9 and 12 please!

6: Favorite title you used: 

My favorite title I picked this year is probably Recompense, which was the title of the hug fic I wrote with Atem and Thief King Bakura! Titles give me chest pain! haha. 

9: Favorite pairing you wrote for this year 

My favorite pairing I wrote this year was Mokuba and his teen angst jk it was probably the little touch of keg that I wrote! It’s not finished, nor is it published, but it was fun exercise! 

12: How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year? 

Oh.... Let’s see... so far I have five that I’ve actually started to write. Hopefully Only Child will be finished early next year, I would like to start the keg fic early next year and have that finished before year’s end, and then I have the bones of a honkai fic that I really and truly want to finish before this year is over! 

#mi esposa mi vida mi amor thank you for askin! I only published TWO fics this year cryin in the club fr #I wanna write way more next year

[winterzsurprise]

Take a seat || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.

Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.

Words: 1.2k

saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa

other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah

mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey

“You want me to do what now?”

Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”

“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”

“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”

In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.

Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.

You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.

“Is it that hard to believe? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”

“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”

Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.

Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.

“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”

“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”

“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”

His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.

“You’re so annoying.”

“And you smell absolutely delicious.”

His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.

His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin. 

There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy. 

You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.

Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.

His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.

Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.

You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.

“Fuck…!”

“You taste divine.” He groaned. “Give me more.”

Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.

“Move.”

“Huh?”

Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.

“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”

And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.

With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.

You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.

“Harder.”

“I’m trying—Ah!”

Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.

Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.

The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.

“I-I’m close.”

“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”

With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry. 

Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.

“Miguel…!”

His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.

You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.

And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.

Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”

“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.

#miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #spiderman smut #spider man fics #spider man smut #marvel fics #marvel smut