The Tower

the Tower

GIF by marauder-exe

Pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending, canon typical violence, mention of sexual assault, kinda Gideon slander sorry, tarot reading inaccuracies and u.s. gov inaccuracies. this took too long to write, and will also be VERY long. apologies

no use of Y/N or gendered pronouns, but reader wears skirts, dresses, was a cheerleader, got slut-shamed. not proofread or beta'd we die like disposable characters. part 2 of the Lovers

main masterlist // angel universe masterlist

summary: “Upright the Tower, wow. This is for radical, fundamental change. Aaron, I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Sometimes, change is good, especially now you have a newfound understanding of love.”

2009, Funeral Home, VA

A million things can happen in a lifetime, and you know. 

One day you were a new student at a public high school in Virginia, sat next to the sunshine of a person named Haley Brooks in AP Chemistry; the next, you were staring at her freshly covered grave. There wasn't even a headstone yet.

“I'm sorry I'm late,” you whispered, ignoring the footsteps you heard approaching. “I'm so sorry, Haley.”

Aaron Hotchner stood next to where you sat on your knees. Your legs were starting to tingle, but you stayed there, fighting so hard to not look at him. 

This was about Haley.

But it tore your heart open like it had always been. And when Aaron Hotchner wrapped his jacket over your shoulders, you wanted to kick him in the face.

His hand lingered on your back as if he was unsure how to approach you. You didn't blame him. After everything, you were unsure how you felt about seeing him again either. 

“Angel–” he started, calling you by your old nickname. You shuddered involuntarily, and if he noticed, he didn't say it. “I–It was my fault.”

“Yes it was,” you agreed, looking up at him. Aaron's dark eyes were filled with sadness and regret, and your mouth tasted bitter immediately. “And it's mine too. I should've pushed you harder, I should’ve been there.”

When the Boston Reaper case came back under the Bureau's radar, Strauss had notified you. Even though you hadn't been a field agent, the Section Chief knew that that case was the one you had dissected over and over in the profiling classes you then taught at the Academy. 

You had begged Aaron for the files, but he turned you down with no explanation. It was then you found out that Aaron had to put Haley and Jack into witness protection, ripping away your chance of any sort of reconciliation. Then, when you tried to pry your way into the case, Strauss cast you out, saying you shouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. 

“What crossfire?” You had asked once. She didn’t reply, and now that it had unfolded, you knew what was coming: the scrutiny that would fall on Aaron Hotchner’s shoulders if he didn’t choose early retirement. 

“I wouldn't have let you,” Aaron admitted. “I had to put Haley and Jack into witsec. I don't want to drag you into it too.”

“But I could've told you,” you argued. “I could've just consulted–I–I…”

“I'm sorry,” Aaron said when you couldn't find the words. 

You felt your tears streaming down your face. You wished you had made peace with Haley before that, before Aaron put her into witsec because you knew that you loved Haley like a sister, once. And you loved her more than you could ever hated Aaron. 

With a deep breath, you tried to climb up to stand, but it was a challenge with the way your legs were a little numb and the extra four-inch heeled boots you had on.

Aaron caught your arm as you stumbled, and you let him help you up. 

After a last look at her grave, you looked at the man who you loved all those years ago. Though sadder, his eyes stayed the same, those eyes broke your heart twice. 

“Me too,” you sighed. “For everything.”

1992, Georgetown, Washington DC

You weren’t supposed to be there. At least, not really. 

Your first choice was Yale, but when the FBI brass wanted to keep you close to the center of ViCAP, you complied. After all, you went where the money was. It was on you, really, to be so fascinated about violent criminals after David Rossi gave a presentation at Stanford that you chose that as your PhD thesis focus. The downside of a government grant was you couldn’t exactly choose where they wanted you. 

The first time you saw Aaron Hotchner after six years was during a class. Specifically, a class on applied psychology. Specifically, you were talking about precedence and its relation to criminal profiling. You showed tapes of your research interviews and compared them with ViCAP interviews from the Bureau.

He had come up to you afterward. “Maybe I should enroll in this class.”

“Thinking of making the jump from law to psychology, Hotchner?”

“If that’s what it takes to see you again.”

You snorted a laugh, finally finished packing up your bag, and gave him your full attention. He looked good, like really good. Time was his friend and you couldn’t help but get pulled into his eyes. Damn him. 

“How about you come and find me during office hours?”

“How about we get drinks right now?” Aaron countered, leaning against the podium.

You gave him an exaggerated gasp. “Aaron Hotchner, are you asking me out?”

“Only if you say yes.”

To say that you didn’t miss being around him would be a lie. To say that you were immune to his charm would also be a lie. But you were you and you weren’t some dumb sophomore who had a crush on him anymore. 

You walked around the desk and the podium, stopping in front of him. Your fingers reached the undone tie around his neck and you took your time to straighten it. “You’re a prosecutor at the DA office, right?”

“Uh-uh,” he said, gulping, eyes not leaving your hands.

“And you’re the lead on the Bernadette Finch case?”

His free hand was ghosting over your waist now and in his dazed look, his eyebrows furrowed. “How–how did you know?”

You smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket before taking a step back. “Because your boss has asked me to be their expert witness.”

That sobered him up. Aaron looked at you in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Email just came in before class started,” you confirmed, turning away to grab your bag. “Don’t look so surprised, Hotch. My expertise is in female violent offenders.”

“No, I know, but–” Aaron sighed. “Does that mean I can’t see you until after the verdict?”

“Not in any personal capacity whatsoever.”

The trial dragged on for far too long, in both of your opinions, but the moment Bernadette Finch’s fate was decided (twenty years with parole and court-mandated therapy), Aaron Hotchner showed up in front of your door with six-pack beers and pizza. 

He was still in his courtroom attire, and you were in your pajamas. 

The night passes over shared conversation and stories, under the yellow light of your first DC apartment, Jeff Buckley playing from your record player.

“This is my last case in the DA office,” he blurted out after his second bottle of beer.

You turned to him, shocked. “What?”

Aaron took a deep breath before putting his almost-empty beer bottle on your coffee table. “Have you ever felt like maybe you're not doing enough? What you’re doing–what I’m doing right now, is it too little too late?”

“You feel that way?”

“I want to do good,” he explained. “But I can’t help feeling like every time those cases, like Finch, or Jackson Whitefield, come across my desk, it’s already too late, you know? There were already too many victims, too many people that got hurt and I wish I could’ve done more to help stop people like them.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I got the results of my Phase II yesterday,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “As in, FBI?”

Aaron nodded. “I start training in a couple of weeks.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed. You just got him back after years and years, finally just him, without having to fight for his attention and affection, and now he was going to go train to be a fucking federal agent? Who knew where he’d end up being assigned? You wanted to be selfish, to ask him to stay (you think he would, if you just asked), but hey, you survived all these years without him.

So you’d be okay, you think.

“That’s great, Hotch,” you told him, genuinely proud and happy for him, pushing away the ugliness clawing up your throat. “Any specific divisions you're shooting for?”

“The BAU,” he answered without missing a beat. There was a small smile on his face that reminded you when he asked you to dance at his graduation party.

“Ah, David Rossi, I'm familiar,” you chuckled. You knew Rossi, of course, and you knew what he was like. You knew what the job took from him.

There was an ache in your heart–that small, unexplainable weight on your chest. But you knew, even then, that you'd be apart again. That was it. Reversed the Lovers. What did he stand for?

This: duty, justice. You only dread the consequences.

“Promise me something, Hotch,” you said.

“Anything.”

You reached out and curled your fingers around his, and instinctively, he tightened it. “That, whatever happens, you'll never let it consume you. That, you'll always come back to who you are.”

“I'll be fine,” he promised. “You know me. Besides, I'll call you to remind me.”

You hugged him goodbye at the airport, heading to his first assignment in the Seattle Field Office, and you returned to your position at Georgetown.

1982, Stanley Academy Boarding School, VA – Bethesda, MA

Aaron heard from Haley.

She had come to their (yours, hers, and his) spot at the corner of the library upset. He noticed that she had been crying. 

“It's her,” was all that she could muster.

“Angel?” He asked. Haley nodded. “What's wrong?”

“Aaron, she's been suspended,” Haley whispered. 

Aaron felt his blood run cold, and he swore his heart and his breathing stopped for a minute because his head started spinning.

“What do you mean?” 

Haley explained through hiccups. “Apparently she got into a fight with some football guy after cheer practice. I heard they’re talking about suspending her.”

Aaron understood, without having Haley to voice it, where her head went. It was a place his head found in the last three minutes. 

Lately, he hadn't seen you around as much, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he noticed. Nobody called him Hotch other than you, nobody called him out on his self-righteous rich boy bullshit (your words) during lunch whenever you went on your socialist rants (Haley's words).

He almost missed the way you flicked his forehead whenever he got too annoying.

“There's no excuse, is there?” He had said once about one of his teammates in the Debate Club who had run out before a speech. “You knew what you were getting into when you signed up.”

Haley had been sympathetic. You had reached across the cafeteria table and delivered a flick to his forehead. It hadn't hurt, just startling him, but he whined nonetheless.

“Give him a fucking break, Hotch,” you scolded. “Not everyone enjoys a power trip from giving condescending speeches playing devil's advocate.”

“It's the Debate Club,” Aaron argued. “Everything is about condescending speeches playing devil's advocate.”

You reached out and flicked him again. “Have you ever had a panic attack?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, and he hated that a part of him found it hot. When you reached out to flick him again, he grabbed your wrist midair before you could. 

“I hope you never do,” you said, shrugging. Taking your hand away from his grip, you added, “It'll do you some good to stop being a stuck up prick, you know.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Haley sighed. “I have two tickets to see Cats on tour this Saturday, will you come with me?”

Nobody answered. You were back focusing on your meal and Aaron was focused on you.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “She's talking to you, Hotch?”

Surprised, Aaron turned to Haley. “You want to take me?”

Haley nodded, smiling. Aaron's heart had skipped a beat, knowing that he finally was slowly but surely stepping out of the friendzone. He grinned at the blonde, “Okay.”

That was the last that he sat with you during lunch because for the next three days leading up to Haley crying in his arms, you'd been gone. 

Aaron consoled Haley as his mind was racing. Then, after he dropped her off at the girl's dorm building, he was set to find you.

The girl's locker room was empty when he got there, but Aaron knew you more than he let on. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been as observant of you as he did with Haley. You had been a new constant of his life that he didn’t realize just how deep you were in his mind. He made a beeline for the bleachers, where you were laying down with a book and a walkman.

“Hey!” You protested when he took your headphones off of your ears. 

“Is it true?” He asked, face hovering over yours. 

“Is what true?” You tried to deflect.

“Don't bullshit me, Angel.”

You huffed, putting the book between your faces as a barrier. “Get out of my face, Hotch.”

He snatched the book away from your grasp.

“Give it back!” 

“Tell me the truth and I'll give it back.”

You pushed yourself off your back, standing up to look him in the eyes. You were angry and frustrated, he could tell by the tension on your body and the look of your eyes.

“What the fuck do you care?” And your tone. Definitely sold by your tone.

“Because!” He said, not really knowing why. His mind raced as he tried to come up with justifications. “This is bad! You can’t just go around punching people!”

“Again, Hotchner, that's my business.”

“How did this happen?”

He watched as you clammed up, eyes downcast and watery. You took a deep breath, looking away like you were ashamed of the details. “Doesn’t matter.”

“What are you going to do, huh?” He challenged. 

“Look,” you sat back down on the white rows of the bleachers, head in your hands. “They offered a choice: either I serve detention and get Gracie to apologize formally or I get suspended for three days.”

Aaron paused. It took him three seconds of silence before saying, “I’ll say that it was me.”

“What?” You said, head turning to look at him. Aaron didn’t want to admit it, but what he was saying surprised him too. He’d get a handful from his dad, but weighing out the consequences, it’d be a small price to pay compared to you having a detention or worse, suspension in your record. 

He shrugged, taking a seat next to you. “I’ll say that I punched Francis. It’ll be believable, anyway, guy’s a jackass.”

“Shut up!” You said, forceful. “Oh my god, you can't help it can you? You just have to come in and save the day. Look at me, I'm Aaron Hotchner, I'm sacrificing all my wealth and riches to save my girlfriend’s poor best friend! God, so fucking full of yourself!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He had grabbed your shoulders, turning your body to look at him. “I'm trying to help you!”

You broke away. “I don’t need your help, Aaron!”

Aaron’s offer shocked you to your core and it was affecting you more than you’d admit. As much as you’d like to entertain the idea, you knew you couldn’t. You had dreams and ambitions and you weren’t going to let anyone and anything come between that. You thought of Gracie, who picked you from a less-than-ideal foster home and you thought of your mother, who had you when she was eighteen. Detention would look better in your record than a suspension, all you had to do was apologize to Francis Wahlberg and his parents for punching him. That was it.

What surprised you the most was when you left campus on Saturday morning, fully prepared to take the bus to go home, Aaron was waiting for you, leaning against his blue Jeep. He didn’t say a word, just opened his passenger side door when he spotted you. 

You wanted to deck him in the face and you wanted to kiss him at the same time. 

His face was annoying. Even more annoying that he handed you a paper bag with a warm bagel inside. 

You wanted to ask what he was doing, when he was supposed to go with Haley, but you didn’t because deep down, you didn’t want to drive him away. Deep down, you wanted to cry. When did you ever receive unconditional support like this? When have you ever had someone, anyone, who cared about you this way? 

Aaron shifted next to you. “Can I ask you a question?” 

You scoffed. “You just did.”

“Why don’t you just tell everyone what happened?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You snorted. “It’s his word against mine.”

“So what?”

“What do I say? Yeah, the star football player tried to take advantage of me after practice so I broke his nose,” you mocked. “Thank you for suspending him instead of the poor scholarship girl, congratulations for losing thousands of dollars in tuition and good luck in the next games!”

Gracie’s house–your home, was a small one, painted in bright yellow and green with crystals and sun catchers hung from the porch. There were two outdoor seats with quilted covers, an ashtray filled with cigarette buts between them. 

You led Aaron (who, surprisingly, had followed you out his car) in the cramped living room that smelled like burnt sage and incense. He hit his head on the crystal curtains, opting to stay in the corner where nothing was hanging from the ceiling. 

Gracie had big hair, and you used to joke that she dressed like Stevie Nicks. She’d say that Stevie Nicks was the one copying her style. She brought out an herbal tea mix along with lavender flavored cookies.

“I’m not doing that,” she scoffed after you explained what was going on. “You can ask me to do anything, but that. I’ll make a hex bag just for that boy!”

You groaned, “Gracie!”

“Rigel, love, we can just withdraw you from the school,” Gracie said, squeezing your hand in hers. “We can have you go to Eastview, anything would be better than this.”

“It’s just a formal apology, Gracie, it won’t even take five minutes!”

“It’s a lie, that’s what it is. We may have nothing else but our heart and integrity, and we’d still have more than those rich brats,” she insisted. Then, she added, turning to Aaron. “No offense.”

She was right, of course. The thought of having to apologize to that bastard made your skin crawl. But you had to be pragmatic, didn’t you? That graduating from Stanley would give you better chances in getting into a good university. You had given your classes and extracurricular activities your all to pad up your resume, you couldn’t let one small incident get in the way of that. 

But then you had to ask, how many compromises would you make for success?

You understood then Gracie’s success was defined by her happiness, that as long as she had you, as long as she could still connect with her tarot and crystals and palm reading, she was happy. 

What about you?

Aaron raised his hands. “None taken, ma’am.”

You noticed the double take Gracie did as she saw his palm, watched as her lips quirked up and head cocked. 

Gracie insisted that you both stayed for lunch, and you did. It was a little jarring to see The Aaron Hotchner stuffing his face full of Gracie’s hearty chicken soup with rice noodles. It was more jarring that he asked Gracie about her stuff and actually listened to her explaining it all away. You had never seen him so at ease and comfortable.

“I like him,” she said as she hugged you goodbye. “You should bring him around more often.”

“Shut up, Gracie,” you chuckled. “He’s practically taken.”

“There isn’t anything wrong with loving someone, my dear. Love does not need to possess.”

You heard from Haley. 

Aaron got into a fight before lunch period. He punched a guy. He was facing suspension. You saw him and his mother stepping away from the Headmaster’s office as you walked in the administrator’s space, prepared to tell the Headmaster you and Gracie’s joint decision to withdraw from the school. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out why he punched Francis. You knew it was about you. What was difficult to figure out was why he punched Francis. Aaron was graduating in a year, aiming for GWU, and he just risked his application by assaulting the son of a department store chain owner. 

It also wasn’t hard to find him in empty bleachers. 

“Why?” You asked, handing him the coldest can of Diet Coke you managed to score from the lunch lady. 

Aaron took it gladly, pressing the cold metal to his steadily bruising jaw. “His dad is a client at my dad’s firm. It wasn’t hard to find a lot of incriminating stuff about him.”

“What did the Headmaster say?”

“That they’ll forget about everything and lift your punishment.”

“I meant for you,” you clarified. “What did your mom say?”

“She’s on my side, as always. I had to tell her, though. She also made a hefty donation to get me out of trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, but found relief and amusement at the ordeal nonetheless. “Of course she did.”

Aaron sighed, “You were really going to withdraw, weren’t you?”

You leaned on your elbows, facing up the cloudy sky. “My, uh, my biological dad, he would drink and he’d hit my mom and me. The car crash was her way of setting me free, in her own twisted way. I bounced around foster homes until Gracie took me in. My mom and Gracie gave me a chance. I owe it to them and to myself to give me a chance. Gracie was right, you know. I didn’t survive all this shit just to kneel at a white guy’s feet.”

There was a silence as Aaron contemplated your answer. You could feel his eyes on you, studying, searching for something. After a minute, he stood up. “Come on, we’re going to be late for the next period.”

You grabbed his uniform blazer, haphazardly thrown to the row behind you, and followed suit. Side by side, you both walked in silence back towards the campus. 

Your textbook said you were in a dissociative state, a protection mechanism your brain engaged in through trauma. It was understandable, and you somewhat agreed that maybe you weren't as torn by the events, but should you be?

Mostly you felt relieved. 

While yeah, you might hate most waking moments having to socialize with Virginia’s elites, your teachers were nice. You loved the elective classes at Georgetown they let you take. You loved the cheer team and their collective camaraderie that they’d take turns in paying whatever trips and camps you couldn’t afford. You loved being friends with Haley and sometimes, Aaron. 

Because walking side by side with him, in silence and in jest, there were flowers blooming in your chest. 

But he was Haley's, have always been, so you didn't say anything.

When you arrived in the building, you knew you had to take a diverging path. The thought saddened you unexpectedly. 

“Listen,” you started, turning to him. Your hand stretched out to hand him his jacket back. “Thank you, for everything.”

Aaron smiled with his teeth, taking his jacket back from you. “Does that mean you'll be nicer to me from now on?”

You shook your head. “Not a chance.”

Then, in a moment of bravery, you stepped up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Aaron tensed under your touch, and you didn't give him a chance to reciprocate before pulling away. 

The surprised smile on his face was so cute and adorable that you couldn't help yourself. You planted a kiss on his cheek, smiling in satisfaction as your gloss shined on his now pink-tinted skin.

“See you around, Hotchner.”

You turned around, failing to stop the slight skip on your step as you walked away.

1983, Stanley Academy Boarding School, VA

“Hey!” Haley caught up with you after you got out of, what you assumed, was Mr. Hotchner's office. You had snuck in to call yourself a cab. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” you answered, mostly because you didn't want her and Aaron to try and find you.

“Why?” You didn't answer her this time, just continued making a beeline for the front door. The cold night air bit on your exposed skin and you tried to conceal your shiver. You made it to the driveway until Haley took your shoulder and turned you around. “Hey, stop. Talk to me!”

“I can't, Hales!” 

“Why not?” 

“Because!” You sighed in frustration, hands running over your face. “Because you love him and he–” you struggled to find the words. Did he love you? Like you at least? He did try to kiss you. “–he shouldn't have to choose.”

Haley shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“Aaron!” You said. “He likes you and you like him–love him–and there is no space for me in whatever that is.”

“That's ridiculous–”

“Did you sleep with him?” You asked. 

Haley paused, hesitating. It should be an answer enough for you, but you wanted to hear it from her.

“Did you?”

“Why does that matter?” she said. “You slept with half the boys in our year. Why does it matter that I sleep with him?”

She was right, of course. But you were still a teenager dealing with her first love.

“Because these past few months have been hell, Haley,” you told her. “Ever since your birthday party, ever since you knew that I have feelings for him, you have been rubbing it on my face! That picture you sent–the New York trip–Jesus.”

That was last month. A senior trip to New York that Haley had decidedly tagged along, accompanied by some of the other guy's girlfriends. You couldn't go, not only because you weren't invited but you couldn't ask Gracie for more money. She sent you a polaroid with him in Times Square, his hands around her shoulders, both smiling widely. He was looking at the camera, she was staring at him. 

“You did it first,” she argued. “He left me waiting at the theater that day for you.”

“This is stupid,” you declared, chest heaving like you couldn’t get enough air. You were crying, you think, but Haley definitely was. “He shouldn’t matter this much.” 

“I wanted you to fight me,” she confessed, shoulder shagging in relief of finally letting the secret out. “I wanted you to fight me for him. I wanted you to realize that you're allowed to want things and go after them.”

You stood there, shell shocked by the weight of her confession. She wanted you to fight a losing battle? She wanted you to throw away three years of friendship just to teach you a lesson? 

“You're insane,” you said, shaking your head. “You don't want to teach me about self worth, you're just feeding your own ego. You knew I'd lose. Is that why you're friends with me Haley? So you know you'll win every time? So you don't have to compete with anyone?”

Haley didn't answer, just stood there looking at you, at the ground, and back to the house. You followed her gaze to see Aaron standing on the porch. 

A horn cut through the night. It was your cab. 

“Have a nice life, Hales,” you sighed. “I really do hope you're happy.”

2007, Houston, TX – Arlington, VA – FBI Academy Quantico, VA

You were a terrible person. Terrible, terrible person.

If a person you had been dating for two years asked you to marry them, your first reaction shouldn’t be calling your old place of employment to help you solve three seemingly unconnected murder cases. If a person you had been dating for two years asked you to marry them, you shouldn’t have knowingly reached out to one Jennifer Jareau, the communication liaison you knew Aaron Hotchner hired after the Boston Bombing fiasco. 

Of course you kept up with them as much as you could, mostly because of the nature of your job. Mostly, also, because you missed them. 

Houston was never home, just a place where you had run away to when the pressure of expectation from Gideon and the pain of watching your adult self revert back to high school menial rivalry with Haley and the knowledge that you almost killed the man you loved became too much to bear. You were looking for reasons to go back. 

It was an unfortunate incident that the guy Georgetown hired after your resignation died of a heart attack two weeks earlier and they wanted you back to take over his position and classes for the next semester. You had to see for yourself that if you came back to DC, would they welcome you with open arms or would you be an outsider? 

So when Fuller asked you for help for a series of murder in the Third Ward, you told him you’d bring the cavalry.

Someone calling you by your last name and title shouldn't have stopped you in your tracks but you froze anyway. You had set up shop, facing the case board after putting up pictures and the map of the area. “My name is Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone.”

“Thank you, but you can call me–”

“Doctor Angel?” A familiar voice called. Only one person in the whole wide world would call you that. Sure enough, Spencer Reid entered the conference room, followed by a woman with dark hair.

“What did I say about that nickname, Doctor Reid?” You said, trying to insert humor in your sentence, testing the waters.

“Either call you by your title or your nickname, never both,” he recited, attention immediately taken by the map behind you. “Is that the Fifth Ward map?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, noting the inherent coldness in his attitude. Not that you didn't expect the hostility, but Reid was the one you hoped would be civil. After all, you kept in touch if only through research papers and academic discussion.

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” you said. You wanted to dig deeper, but the man you were both dreading and excited to see strolled into the room and you couldn't help but stare at him. It was good to see him alive and kicking. It wasn't great that his face was clouded with coldness and stoicism. “Hotch.”

The man didn't falter, but you didn't miss the slight backwards step of his left foot. 

Okay. You turned your attention back towards the other two agents, extending your hand. “You must be Emily Prentiss.”

“Looking forward to working with you, ma'am,” Agent Prentiss said, taking your hand. 

“Please don't call me that,” you grimaced. “And I'm afraid this is the extent of my involvement in the case. Detective Fuller was a friend, when he came to me about the murders, I knew the BAU should take the lead.”

You handed a file of your preliminary findings, making it a point to talk to Agent Jareau and Prentiss, leaving Reid to his own devices and Hotch, well, standing there like a statue.

“Tell Gideon and Morgan I said–”

“You should stay.”

It was Aaron, and by the way Jareau’s and Prentiss’ heads whipped towards their Unit Chief, it was surprising for them, too.

Aaron faltered, clearing his throat. He shifted to stand a little taller, eyes cocking to the side to mask his true reaction. “Stay and work the case with us. We can use your expertise.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, lips quirking to show your confusion. “You have twice as many people in this team than when we first started. I don't think it's necessary.”

“Actually it's one point seven five times,” corrected Reid, though his focus was still on the map.

Aaron took the file from Prentiss’ hands, holding out in front of you like a bait, a challenge, his eyes never leaving yours. When he spoke, his voice was a taunt, luring you in. This was the familiar Hotch who would butt heads with you in boarding school. That could mean one of two things.

“You should present this to Gideon yourself, don't you think?”

You noticed three things about Aaron then: the fire in his eyes, the ring on his finger, and the lack of distance between you. This was it, you think, the day Aaron Hotchner would finally end you. Not because he was angry, or pissed at you for leaving, but because he was finally married to Haley and you knew he'd use that against you.

But you took the file and you stayed anyway.

There was a sense of familiarity as you worked with the team, even with Prentiss and JJ. Gideon had seen you and gave you a handshake, didn't push you or corner you. You gave him the same grace by not bringing up the Boston bomber case. 

The team noticed, though, past the coldness, the challenge you and Aaron gave each other. Though there were snide comments, no one ever questioned each other’s judgment and abilities. There was a seamlessness, a kind of intimacy as you both worked. You gave him the good coffee, he gave you fresh copies of files because he knew you liked how warm they were. He opened the passenger car doors for you, you took the pickles off of his lunch.

If Spencer Reid wasn't so high out of his mind, he would've seen it too. If he wasn't so mean, you wouldn't have seen it too.

You cornered him in the breakroom as he chugged his third cup of coffee. “Reid, are you okay?”

He had jumped at your voice, scoffing. “No offense, Doctor, but if I needed a shrink I would have made an appointment.”

His reaction didn’t faze you. After working in disadvantaged communities with different vulnerable communities, you had an inkling of what was going on. It wasn’t hard to miss the irritability, agitation, his inattention to everyone and everything around him, so much so that he missed the construction work around him. “So why haven’t you?”

Spencer paused, setting his cup on the counter as he turned to you. “You think I’m being difficult? Acting crazy? Uncharacteristic?”

“I wouldn’t use those words,” you snorted. “But yes, actually.”

“Maybe I changed four years ago, you know, when you left?” He bit. “Respectfully, you lost your privilege to my utmost inner thoughts that day in Gideon’s office.”

“Fine,” you conceded. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to touch his elbow. It wouldn’t mean much to anyone else watching, but you knew he understood. “Whatever happened to you, Spencer, I’m sorry you have to go through it alone. When you’re ready, give me a call.”

He yanked his arm out of your grip, and you raised your hands in surrender before leaving. Spencer didn’t talk to you again after that, opting to ignore you under the pretense of focusing on the case. In the ‘tolerating you’ scale, he was way down there with Aaron.

“You’re not going in the field with them?” JJ asked when she found you in the women’s restrooms. 

The case was falling into place with the unsub identified, Dana Woodridge sat in the conference room, eyes hollow and scared. Spencer and Prentiss monitored the coms, waiting for news. 

You shook your head. “No, I don’t go out in the field anymore.”

“Why not?” She questioned, and your surprised face must have caused her to backtrack. “I just meant, you were a legend in the Bureau. I studied your case reports, you basically wrote the guidelines I use to triage cases.”

Tilting your head curiously, you prompted: “Did Gideon or Hotch ever talk about me?”

“No,” she said. “Spencer and Derek mentioned you in passing.”

You nodded your head, expecting nothing more. “I don’t like guns. Ironic, I know, but I just can’t watch when they inevitably gun him down.”

“You think Gideon’s incapable of talking him down?”

There was a bitter scoff coming from you, mind thinking back to the last time you ever went to the field during an active case. “I think there are a lot of variables in the field. Even someone as good as Gideon won’t be able to control those.”

You had been right, of course, but there was no pleasure in the knowledge.

It was Derek Morgan who visited you at the Houston field office first. You were wrapping up with a patient (a senior agent going through a divorce) when he poked his head in front of the see-through window of your office.

“What can I do for you, Agent Morgan?” You asked, letting him in as you let your patient out. You fought the urge to yawn, the days in the field catching up to you. Morgan didn’t take the seat you offered, standing there in your small office. 

He changed, you gave him that. No more trying to fit in with the bureaucratic nature of Hotch, or the controlled chaos of Gideon. Gone was the suit, replaced by raglan tees and a pair of sunglasses hanging from his collar. You were glad, really, the more he was comfortable with himself, the better of a profiler he was. 

There was also an implicit declaration of trust to his teammates, something you didn’t see when you did his evaluation back then. 

“You remember when I was just starting out and I came to you about nightmares?” 

He had come to you in your office in Georgetown, struggling to talk and get the words out. You had taken him back home to help you paint your newly renovated spare bedroom. It wasn’t hard to get him to talk after that.

You paused, “Have they been happening again?”

“No, nothing like that,” he admitted. “I'm just saying that between Gideon and Hotch, I can say that you are greatly missed.”

“Did Gideon put you up to this?” You asked, eyes narrowed. 

Morgan laughed. “No, no. It’s just that lately, with things that are happening in the team, I sometimes wish I can talk to you about it, I know you’ll know what to do.”

“Are you talking about Reid?”

A sardonic laugh. “Amongst other things.”

“Derek.” you said gently. “Whenever you need to talk, you can reach me anytime.”

“I know,” he said, giving you a quick hug goodbye. “Thanks.”

The second one who visited you was Gideon. You were waiting for another appointment, another agent who just went through a personal loss, when Gideon came barging in. 

“Hope you don’t mind that I told the other guy to reschedule,” He said, not waiting for your permission to enter. 

You groaned. “I do, actually. I do mind.”

“I’m not here to ask you to come back.”

“Of course you won’t.”

“Just—” your former unit chief tilted his head, questioning. “Why did you run?”

You stared up at him from the chair behind your desk, heels clicking on the floor to ground you with its repetitive motion. “Does it matter? You have a new protege.”

Gideon just stared at you, eyes studying you like he would look at suspects from behind the two-way mirror before coming in to interrogate them. He tilted his head, then you saw it. He wasn’t watching you like he would a suspect. He was watching you like he would a bird. 

It was you who broke the silence. “I guess I’m not strong enough for the job and its consequences. I just don’t have what it takes.”

“How do you figure?” He asked. You narrowed your eyes.

“Are you asking for you, or for Reid?” when he didn’t answer, you said, “Just because I stopped searching for your approval, doesn’t mean he will. Look at Aaron, he hasn’t stopped. Look where it got him. It’s not on you, Jason. Well, maybe a little bit, but ultimately, it is his choice, my choice.”

You saw it when you first got into the team during your two semester sabbatical Gideon wanted you to get. You saw it in Aaron because you recognize it yourself: the way tear himself apart to not disappoint Gideon was the same way you almost disintegrated trying to keep Haley happy during high school. And at that party, you decided enough was enough.

But it was easy to slip back to old habits. Your training was what saved you, you think, from devoting your life to the BAU and to Gideon. When you were there, you tried your best to keep Aaron away from working more than he needed to by taking him to parks and the movies when you could. You could only do so much, though, with dividing between your time consulting for the BAU and your teachings in Georgetown. 

You could only do so much to work against his ambition. You could only imagine how he got after you left. 

Gideon left shortly after that, promising a steak dinner when you were in DC. The reopening of old wounds overwhelmed you, however, so that when the third person to visit you came knocking, you were hiding under your desk to deprive your senses for a little bit. 

“Listen, there is this thing called making an appointment—”

“I won’t be here long enough for that.”

The voice made you jump, causing you to bump your head on the edge of your desk as you tried to get up. Your hand was rubbing the point of impact on your scalp as you climbed out. Sure enough, the guy who saw you in your moment of humiliation was Aaron Hotchner.

“I might start charging you guys for this drop-by therapy session,” you huffed, busying yourself with rearranging your desk to avoid looking at him. 

Aaron didn’t respond to your attempt at humor. He walked further into your office, standing close to your desk. His face was stern, unimpressed.

You gestured your hand up to his face. “See, I’ve been meaning to ask about this whole thing. Since when did you become such a grump?”

“I don’t know,” he said, still in a deadpan tone. “Maybe because my best friend left without saying goodbye when I was in a hospital recovering from two gunshot wounds.”

You rolled your eyes, you couldn’t help it, it was the muscle memory for every stupid thing he had said, even back then. You still wouldn’t look at him, you busy your hand by toying with your computer instead of reaching up and flicking his forehead. 

When it was too long of a pause for an answer, his composure cracked. Aaron scoffed, hand running through his hair in frustration. In a swift motion, his hands gripped the edge of your desk as he leaned over you. As you looked up, you came onto his face, inches away from yours, eyes blazing, nostrils flaring. 

You sighed, as a sign of relenting and a way to calm your beating heart. So maybe you had compared everyone you met to him. So maybe you were waiting for the other shoe to drop anyway. Maybe the someone you needed was him all this time. But you caught the glint of sunlight on his gold wedding band and you gave yourself a hard slap back to reality. 

“Because of me,” you whispered. 

He faltered. “What?”

“You got shot because of me,” you said. “Because I can’t protect myself.”

“What?” He scoffed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing—”

“You almost got suspended because of me, too,” you whispered. “And Haley told me what happened after, with your dad.”

Aaron laughed in disbelief. “Is this what it’s about? Some sick, twisted version of your insecurity that you hurt everyone who cares about you?”

“Do you actually care or is it because you just have to be a hero?” you asked. It was a low blow, you knew, but you just wanted him out of your space. 

“Don’t give me that.”

You looked away for a second, swallowing. “It’s not just you, you know. I can’t keep up with Gideon’s expectations, unlike you. I can’t turn my emotions off or have that sense of duty. It was poisoning me from the inside, throwing people’s vulnerabilities to attack them instead of helping them.”

Aaron sighed, and with a breath came, the tension was released. His knuckles lessened their grip, understanding filled his eyes. “You could’ve said goodbye.”

“Would you have let me go?” You asked, looking into his eyes now. “I stayed as long as I did because of you, Aaron, and if you asked me to stay, I would have. If I had gotten you killed, I—I wouldn’t know what I’d do.”

 It was a miracle that Rowan walked in when they did because you didn’t know what you’d have done in that moment, either. Not without Aaron looking at you like that, the same way he did when you sat on his windowsill during his graduation party. The same way he did in Gracie’s engagement party. 

You have always wondered what it would be like to kiss Aaron Hotchner, but you knew you would never find out. It took you years to grieve the life you wanted with him. It took you more to grieve the love you have to bury for him. 

“Is this a bad time?” Rowan called from the gap in your office door. 

Rowan, your long term boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) who asked you to marry him just three days ago. Rowan, whose heart you broke by saying you’d think about it. Rowan, who hadn’t called or texted in three days and had asked to go to dinner that night to talk things through. 

Rowan, who saved you from being a homewrecker and Aaron from being a cheater. 

“No,” you told him. You turned to Aaron, “You have a flight to catch.”

“I do,” he said, voice hoarse. 

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

It wouldn’t be until August that you saw Aaron again. 

After Gideon took a sabbatical from teaching to focus on his cases, you filled in his position in the Academy. It was an inevitability that you’d run into each other. (You started hanging out with Spencer way earlier than that) (You had put him in an observation room as he went through withdrawal and set him up with a colleague to keep him off dilaudid) (You never mentioned it to anyone). Since then, you’d often get roped in nights out with the team, and eventually, Haley. 

It was jarring that she had pulled you into a hug and apologized for her outburst at that hospital in Baltimore. You couldn’t really do anything but patted her back and apologized for not making it to the wedding. 

You might not be best friends with her anymore, but you understood. There was no use in holding against old wounds. 

You knew your place in their relationship, you promised. You limited any interactions with either of them outside of a group setting, outside of the office. So, it was alarming that you had shown up at their house in Arlington during Aaron’s suspension. 

“Strauss wants me to be acting unit chief of the BAU,” you blurted out the moment he opened his front door.

“Hello to you too, Angel,” Haley greeted, poking her head from behind Aaron’s body. 

You sighed. “Sorry, I can’t reach Gideon. I don’t know who else to go to about this.”

“Come in,” he said, opening the door wider for you. He sat down on an armchair, gesturing you to sit on the couch in front of him, but you shook your head.

“Look, I won’t stay long, I just need to tell you—where’s Jack?” you asked, distracted by the lack of babbling from the toddler. 

Haley sat on the arms of the chair Aaron was sitting on. You pretended not to notice the possessive arm on his shoulder. “The park, with Jess.”

“Right,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t appreciate being used as a pawn in a political game. I like my post now, I like teaching. If I become unit chief, I’ll have to leave Georgetown again and I’d rather claw my fucking eyes out.”

Aaron averted his eyes to the hardwood floor, finger fiddling with his wedding band. “It’s out of my hands.”

“No, it’s not,” you protested, starting to pace around their living room. “We know what happened in Flagstaff was Gideon’s fault. The team will back you up, let him take the fall for once and then you can come back and I can go back to the academy—”

“I can’t do that,” he said, eyes still not meeting yours. 

You stopped pacing and turned to him. Haley’s grip on his shoulder tightened, she also wouldn’t look at you. “What?”

“I’m not going to throw Jason under the bus for this,” Aaron clarified. Not only that it surprised you, you could tell it disappointed Haley, too. Her face fell as she rubbed her own arms. 

“Hales?” You called out as she walked out of the living room, into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

Aaron ignored your question. “I can’t let Gideon take the fall because it’ll end his career, especially after Boston, you know that.”

“So you’re going to lose everything you’ve worked for, for him?”

“Not just for him,” he confessed, fingers playing with his wedding band again. “It’s not just for Gideon.”

You understood, then, the tension between them that you picked up sometimes. It wasn’t your place to question it, so you didn’t. You thought it was because of you, partially, but apparently it was because of his absence. His ambition, his need for the job that trumps his love for Haley even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

Haley wanted a white-picket fence life with her true love. Aaron wanted the thrill, the chase, and the sense of accomplishment that catching killers gave him.  

Of course. Reversed the Lovers. 

“Good luck with that,” you snorted before you could stop yourself.

His eyes lifted up to you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you, Hotch,” you said. “I know you try to separate this role of husband, father, and agent. I know you try and give your all in those roles. The only problem is, you’re burning on every end until there’s nothing left.”

What do you stand for, Aaron Hotchner?

With that, you left his house and went straight to Quantico. You passed by Emily Prentiss, straight to Strauss’ office. You told her what you said to Aaron, and you told her to fuck off. 

This, you thought. Duty, protection, hero. 

Haley came to your office when the team was still in Milwaukee.

JJ had notified you about the case, asking for help since they were down three members. You wanted to, you swore, but you knew that if you filled in, your promotion to Unit Chief would basically be a done deal. It would be a confirmation that you were the only choice for now, until you could train Derek more so he could replace you. 

That would mean losing at the very least two years of your academic career. 

“You just have to be so selfish, don’t you?” Her voice made you jump. “You won’t even do this for us?”

“Haley–”

“He left,” she continued, sniffling. “Just go ahead, say it. Say that you told me so.”

Well. That pissed you off. It was always her blaming you for his choices, like you were pulling his strings. Like he didn’t make the conscious act to choose. 

“Okay,” you gave in. “I fucking told you so.”

Haley’s face crumpled, she collapsed to one side of the sofa you kept for your patients. 

“Does that help?” You sighed, rubbing your eyes with your thumb and index fingers. When he didn’t reply, you crossed the room, from your desk to the sofa where she sat. Wrapping your arms around her, you murmured. “I’m sorry, Hales. I’m so sorry, everything is going to be okay.”

Little did you know, it would be the last time you ever saw and talked to her. 

2011, Alexandria, VA

The second week after Haley filed for divorce, he had come to your office in the Academy armed with whiskey. You sighed when you saw him, pulling out two paper cups meant for the communal water dispenser and two granola bars.

“Do you think if I just made the right choices, I would be able to salvage this?” Aaron asked after his second glass of liquor. 

You threw back the last bit of the liquid in your glass. “I'm not answering that. If you want a therapy session, you should've booked an appointment without alcohol.”

“Yeah but,” the man in front of you sighed, running a hand on his face. “As my friend, as Haley's friend, what do you think?”

You hesitated. “And you want the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“You won't tell Haley I said this?”

His eyes narrowed at you. “No.”

“Haley's stupid for believing she can change you,” you said. “And you're stupid for promising her that, expecting Haley to do all the domestic labor while you go off galavanting with your cavalry.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

His tone irked you, so you reached out and flicked his forehead. He barely reacted. “People need different things. They fulfill these needs by being in relationships, but it's unrealistic to expect one person to fulfill all your needs. You look for what Haley can't give you in the job, in the team. But Haley doesn't have that luxury.”

You took the empty glass from his hand, throwing it in the bin next to your desk. Aaron just sat there, contemplating, so you continued.

“What she needs is a husband and the father to her kid who'd put them first,” you told him. “And you? You can't do all three because you're already so fucking burnt out trying.”

You called him and yourself separate cabs to get home. The next morning, an apology fruit basket perched on your desk.

You didn’t take pleasure in their misery, if anything, you feel sorry for both of them, but especially Jack. In times like whenever Aaron would come to your office, you couldn’t help but recall a conversation you had with Haley back in 2002.

“Why don’t you let him take you out?” she asked when you both were getting coffee together. 

“What?”

“He said he asked you out multiple times but you said no,” she elaborated. “You don’t think he’s still in love with me, do you?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “He goes to a different place, when he works. He’s there but he’s so single minded. It’s a place neither of us are allowed to. He’s just getting started, Hales. I know I’ll come second to the job, even if he doesn’t mean to.”

Haley had laughed then, and you knew what that laugh meant. That laugh meant that she was different, that if Aaron was with her, she’d be his number one priority forever no matter what. That laugh meant she’d do better than you, be better in every way.

You still thought about her sometimes, especially whenever you went to the park with Aaron and Jack because you were back to being friends. 

After JJ left for State, you took it upon yourself to train Penelope Garcia to triage cases, even helped her train the algorithm she used to make everything more seamless. She used it to assign consultation cases to different agents, and you couldn’t hide how impressed you were with her genius. 

That meant you were working closely with the BAU again, but you knew it wouldn’t last. As much as you loved bringing Aaron coffee in the morning, taking away half his pile of paperwork, and being the emotional sounding board for the entire team (they would drop by your office some days) (and complain about the most menial things to the most sickening, horrifying trauma a human being can endure) (they’d walk away feeling lighter with a lollipop in their hand) you knew you were meant to do something else. 

“I think this is going to be my last year at the Bureau,” you told Aaron one Saturday morning. “This initiative that a couple of colleagues are starting, it’s a free clinic and resource center for victims of gender-based violence. I can’t do that and be at the FBI at the same time.”

Aaron watched as Jack climbed on the monkey bars, and you were ready to repeat yourself, thinking that he hadn’t heard you. But he took a deep breath, eyes on his shoes before turning to look at you. “I can’t even be mad at you for that.”

(Little did you know that the team didn’t stop talking to you, only now dropping by Georgetown in groups, taking turns.)

You snorted, reaching your arm to flick his forehead. “You can’t be mad at me for anything!”

“I know,” he smiled. God, you missed that smile, the smile that you had rarely seen lately so you collect it like a dragon collecting gold coins every time it comes out. “Doesn’t mean I'm not going to miss you.”

“Don't worry, between the team and Jack, you won't have time to,” you laughed.

“That's ridiculous,” he said. “I've missed you for almost thirty years, Angel, I think I'm getting the hang of it by now.”

Aaron said it like a throwaway line, so nonchalantly, like it didn't shift your whole world. 

You'd tell him, you think, before you leave. You wondered if it'd kill him. You knew it'd kill you. But then you remembered the whole reason he sought you out in the first place.

The whole ‘I met someone and I don't know how to introduce her to Jack’. 

You didn’t let your heartbreak show. The one time you didn't come with him to train for the triathlon, he met someone. But the feeling wasn't unfamiliar, so you embraced it like an old friend.

2013, Baltimore, MA – Quantico, VA

Gracie's funeral was held in the Whitefield Residence in Baltimore. 

As per her request, it was a tree planting procession, her ashes were spread over the ground where Jackson and his mother planted a Camellia tree on. 

Aaron was there, as he had been when Gracie was still undergoing chemotherapy. As he had been when she decided to stop. As he had been when her health quickly deteriorated. You made peace with it a long time ago, but it didn't mean you would stop grieving any time soon.

When Valentina asked you to give an eulogy, you told her you couldn't do it, but Jackson convinced you anyway.

So there you were, in a black dress and puffy eyes, one dangling star earring as your only accessories.

“Gracie said that our meeting was written in the stars,” you started, hand subconsciously touching the dangling stars from your ears. “She gave me this when she picked me up from that foster home. She called me different names of stars, Rigel was her favorite. And I–I–” a sob cut through your speech, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Oh God, sorry, I can't see what I've written because it’s so blurry.”

Valentina chuckled next to you, she reached out and held your hand, grounding you through it.

Your eyes cleared just enough to see Aaron across from you, an encouraging smile on his face, and you found your footing again. But you discarded what you wrote on that piece of paper, and instead, let a memory play out in your head.

“Gracie told me once that love isn't selfish,” you continued, eyes not breaking away from Aaron. “That love doesn't need to possess,” you looked away from Aaron towards the newly planted tree. “To live a life rooted in compassion and kindness, to give love freely without demands, that's her. That's what she taught me. So Gracie, even if I don't have you here with me, I have my love for you, and that's enough.”

Three days later, Aaron greeted you at his apartment in a navy quarter zip, smiling softly as he let you in. You didn't question his weird choice of wardrobe, considering it was in the middle of July. 

You were holding a box of Gracie's things that Valentina had given you and you couldn't bring yourself to go through it alone. You had called Aaron immediately, and he told you he'd be home.

“Jess has Jack for a bit, they're going to the zoo,” he explained, answering your silent questioning of the unusually silent apartment.

You sat on the floor of his living room, back leaning against the sofa, the cardboard box in front of you. Aaron came back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer.

“I thought something familiar might be comforting,” he said, handing you a bottle.

You smiled, grateful. “Thanks.”

And, as you took a swig, knees crossed under you, his brain screamed that he loved you. Aaron Hotchner had realized he loved you more times than he could count. 

The first time was when he went to a football game Stanley was playing against Eastview in junior year. It would be two months after he met Haley and consequently, started to get to know you. He first thought you were Haley's annoying little sidekick who constantly cockblocked him, that was until he saw you on that field

Haley had ditched him to have dinner with her theater friends instead, leaving him stuck with his classmates, bored out of his mind. Then, he saw you get thrown into the air and it felt like he couldn't breathe, not until your friends caught you, then sprung you back up to stand on someone's shoulder.

He didn't dare repeat the things his classmates said about you, but he did replayed the moment your eyes caught him. You smiled at him in acknowledgement, one pom-pom in the air and just before you fell back, you gave him a wink.

His heart fluttered as he watched your every move in awe. The boys sitting around him thought that little stunt was for them, but Aaron knew. Though, he was still sixteen going on seventeen, so he chalked it up to teenage hormones.

The second time was the first time you flicked his forehead for saying something stupid. He didn't even remember what he had said to warrant your annoyance (knowing you then, it could just be something along the lines of ‘my brother's stupid’), but he remembered being stunned when he felt you touch him for the first time.

A flick on the forehead. It wasn't even affectionate but he was hooked from the start. He'd say stupid shit to get a reaction out of you, especially that reaction.

When he found out you might withdraw from Stanley, he thought his world was ending.

He ditched Haley to drive you to Gracie's house in Bethesda because he was making sure you'd still be around. When Gracie brought up withdrawing, he felt like he could pass out, maybe throw a tantrum. It was an easy decision to slam Francis’ face to the boys lockers after P.E. 

Then you kissed him. You kissed him on the cheek and he was never the same.

Aaron loved Haley, he truly did, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if he had kissed you that night in his room. He was so bound with his commitment to Haley, dead set on proving his dad wrong about her, and trying to do the right thing. Haley was the right thing.

But you? You were always out of reach. 

Then it was every day whenever he’d see you in the BAU, working side by side with him, having his back whenever, taking him to the Smithsonian during the weekends. You let him take you out for drinks, sending him home just after he got a little too touchy, always with a smile and a teasing remark. 

And he was a terrible person, he knew that, because he went on four dates with Beth and realized he was still in love with you. 

Aaron was still on his way back from the case in Atlanta the day before his scheduled triathlon, and Jess was out of town for a job, so in desperation, he called you to take care of Jack when he was away. Both you and Jack were enthusiastic, and he didn’t realize just how much until he received a video on his phone of you and Jack. 

Of you, playing KISS’ “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” in Guitar Hero as Jack held his water bottle in front of him like a mic. You gave Jack a sunglasses and a boa as you kneel on the floor in front of him, playing the plastic guitar like you were doing a stadium tour. 

He chose the song, I swear was the caption you wrote when you sent it to him.

“It’s sickening how in love you are,” Dave said, noticing the smile on Aaron’s face as the video looped. The older man raised his hand in surrender as Aaron gave him a sharp glance. “I know, I’m just saying, Aaron, you’ve been making heart eyes at them back in ‘98. It’s not fair for Beth to compete with that.”

“I tried, Dave,” Aaron confessed. “For four years I tried to get them to go on a date with me and they always said no.”

“That was ten, twelve years ago!”

“They always said, maybe when you’re where you want to be,” he recalled. “I didn’t understand it then, but I know now it was about the job.”

“The job doesn’t change,” David said. “You did.”

He wasn’t proud of how he ended things with Beth–through a phone call when he landed–but he knew it was the right thing to do.

Aaron found you cuddled up with Jack on the kid’s bed, wearing his old GWU sweatshirt. And he knew. He spent two years proving that his relationship with the job had changed for the better, for you. 

You pulled out a small box of Gracie’s tarot desk, showing it up to him. “Oh, I haven’t touched one of these in decades!”

Aaron did, however, touch Gracie’s deck a year before she died. You had been with Valentina, talking to the doctors when Gracie patted the spot on the foot of her hospital bed, her deck of tarot cards in her hands. 

“Come on, Aaron,” she beckoned. “Indulge the wish of a dying woman.”

He had mirrored her laugh, complying with her request. She laid out all the cards in front of her with expert accuracy, not one was out of place, compared to your clumsy spread thirty years ago. Absent-mindedly, with a little bit of flair to indulge Gracie, he picked three cards. 

“Come on, what’s the diagnosis, madame?”

Gracie reached and opened one of them. “Upright the Tower, wow. This is for radical, fundamental change. Aaron, I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Sometimes, change is good, especially now you have a newfound understanding of love.”

Aaron looked away, focusing his gaze on the dripping fluids from the IV bottle. He had been scared, fearing that he might not make it out alive after Haley’s death. But change was what he welcomed the most, and he wouldn’t have been if you weren’t at his side this whole time. 

“Ten of cups, upright, too,” Gracie said. “Congratulations, Aaron, you will find what you’re searching for. Contentment, peace, happiness–the stars have spoken, my dear. All the pain you’ve been through, you’ll find a reprieve. And lastly–” Gracie turned the last one. “Reversed three of swords.”

Aaron held his breath. 

Gracie chuckled at his expression. “Don’t worry, my dear, it’s not as scary as it looks. I envy you, Aaron, that you’ll move on and finally grow from the pain, that you’ll either earn forgiveness or you’ll learn it.”

You came in three minutes after Gracie gave him a hug, crying tears of relief that he’d finally taste his own happiness. 

“Why?” He asked you, out of curiosity. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Because I lost mine. I don’t remember how, but Gracie believes that you can only have one deck for life, you know? That the bond between a witch and her cards is sacred, and that no two decks are the same.”

“So you never picked up a new one?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I thought me and this just weren’t meant to be.”

Aaron bit his lip, contemplating, suddenly nervous about your reaction. In a split second, he decided, he’d lay it out for you, and give the ball back to your court. 

He got up from his position next to you and went to his room. You looked at him quizzically as he did, even more so when he came back with an old storage box. 

“What’s that, Hotch?” you asked.

Aaron put the box down and took off the lid. Inside, you could see an old tarot deck kept together by a rubber band and a velvet jewelry box. 

“No way,” you laughed in disbelief, taking the deck from the box. “You have this all these time?”

“Yeah,” he said. He took the jewelry box, handing it to you with a slight shake of his hand. “And this.”

Inside was the other half of your dangling stars earring, one that you thought you lost a long time ago. Your memory came back to you, then, about the party, the cards, and Haley. “Hotch–”

“Finders keepers,” he joked, trying to mask the crack in his voice. 

“Did it happen?” You asked, then. “The tarots you pulled ten years ago.”

“Oh, man, oh man. I–” Aaron smiled, then shook his head. He looked down, debating the answer to your question. “Yeah, it did.”

“Oh,” you said, noticing the light and airy feel of nostalgia evaporating from the room. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry–”

“I pivoted my career from a prosecutor to the FBI, that’s the fool, right?” he answered. “Then, it was my dad. He died of lung cancer, third year of law school. You know, the three of swords. It’s funny, because I thought at first it was you I lost.”

You reached out and held his hand, letting him squeeze it for comfort. 

“And I think–” he gulped. “I think you know the rest.”

You knew he thought of Haley, the consequences of his choices, his commitments. You couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were sitting. Sides pressed up against each other, backs on your couch as you both made yourselves comfortable on your living room floor. 

What do you stand for, Aaron Hotchner?

Aaron took the earring in one hand, fingers running along the small chains, the stars hanging off them. “Remember what you told me, when you found me in the bleachers after I punched Francis? You said, your mom and Gracie–”

“–gave me a chance. I owe it to them and to myself to give me a chance,” you recited. “Is that why you became a prosecutor instead of working at your dad’s firm?”

Aaron nodded, sighing. He leaned his head back, turning it to the side so he could look at you. His lips stretched into a smile, his features soft. “That’s what I stand for. You–you gave me so much more than you realized.”

When you looked at him, you thought about how it'd feel to kiss him. There was always this love you held for him that you didn’t think you had a big enough heart to store it all up. You dated other people, fell in love with other people, but never like this. Nothing compares to the feeling of loving Aaron Hotchner. It consumed you back then, feelings boiling up, bubbling over the surface.

It was a simmer for a while now, expanding bigger and further. For his team, for his son. 

He was better, wasn’t he? The weight on his shoulders were the same but he carried it better. You think you’d love to take some of that weight off for him. 

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” he said, voice soft and bashful.

“Like what, Hotch?”

His face moved closer, eyes dragging you down to him. “Please, Angel.”

“Please, what?”

“Please.”

Your hand reached up, stroking his cheek. You watched as he took a deep breath, his own hand held yours in place. “Aaron.”

His relief was visible: his shoulders dropped, and so did his head. His fingers gripped your wrist tighter, his lips kissed your palm.

Aaron's eyes found yours, then your lips. 

“Let me do this right,” he said. “Just give me one date, Angel.”

You wanted to. God, you truly wanted to. You’d give every part of you for him, you think. But there was a piece of you still scared, still unsure. What proof was there that Aaron Hotchner wanted you the same way you wanted him?

“Let me have you pull a card,” you bargained. “If the upright the Lovers come out, I’ll do it.”

“I can’t do that,” he confessed. 

“Why not?”

“Because that particular card is in my office, top drawer.”

The admission shocked you. Your lips parted in surprise, “What?”

“Angel,” he called. “You read criminals like a book and you can read me like a magazine. Surely you know how I feel about you? That everything I did, I did it for you? It’s the one thing I allow myself to–”

You closed the gap. Your hand gripped his jaw firmer and you pulled him into you, lips crashing with his. 

It was like the rush of water when the flood gates opened. The dam broke and the band snapped into two. There was nothing that could stop it. 

So this is what it feels like, you thought, to kiss Aaron Hotchner. 

All-consuming, all-igniting. 

You never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. Why would you, when you knew it would never feel like this? It wouldn't even get close to feeling like this?

You didn’t know–was this how it felt like to be brought to life? To breathe on the surface for the first time? To see constellations behind your eyelids, to experience a supernova in your heart? Gracie might call you with the names of different stars, but this, this is the big bang. 

Aaron pulled you closer, hands cradling your head now, and you let him move you onto his lap, straddling him. He pressed to you closer, like he couldn’t get enough. 

“Slow down,” you laughed. 

“I can’t,” he confessed breathily, lips finding you again. “I can’t let go now that I know how your lips tasted.”

So you didn’t stop him. You let him kiss you on his couch and make love to you on his bed. You let him love you and you let yourself love him. 

For the first time, you were truly free. For the first time, you knew, neither of you were going anywhere. 

“I love you, Angel,” he said, holding you close. You had your head on his chest, his lips on your hairline. “I never got to say it before but I will say it every day.”

“I’ve been in love with you for thirty years, Aaron,” you told him. “I’ll say it every day for the next three hundred.”

Team Building - Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

WC: 6.3K / navi / preview / gif creds to @shyhotch, i miss you meg :(

Summary: Hotch whisks you away for a team-building session after you reveal to him that your short time at the BAU hasn't been quite enough to assimilate you into the group. You have a wonderful time, you're just confused as to why he leaves the rest of your team behind.

Contents/Warnings: bau!reader, mutual pining!! lots of puppy love ooey gooey mushy pining for each other, a few sexual innuendos/mentions, rossi is stingy, typical cm case contents

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

In your short time working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you’d learned two things:

Never, ever touch Reid’s coffee mug.

Aaron Hotchner is intimidating as fuck.

You lived by these principles; they helped you navigate your work life. You’d carefully avoided the topic of the first one just this morning, quickly putting the mug back in the cabinet when you’d seen the label on it and pretending that you hadn’t touched it at all. Thankfully, the young genius didn’t seem to notice.

But the second one wasn’t so easily avoidable. Your Unit Chief was surly, stubborn, and vigilant, which meant that any little mistake you made put you on thin ice, especially as a newer agent. And that wasn’t to say that he was awful 100% of the time. He joked, he laughed, he smiled, just sparingly. His more common exterior was hardened and cool, which made it tough for you to relax around him sometimes, even knowing that he broke his facade occasionally.

Now was no different. All you were doing was sitting next to him in the van, and he was freaking you out. His commonly-donned suit was fitted tight to his body, and he sat rigid in his seat, never relaxing for a second. You understood the tension, you really did, because you’d just wrapped up a case with a rather unfortunate ending, but you couldn’t understand how he could remain so stoic all the time. You yourself were slumped against the window, the cool glass doing wonders for your heated cheeks.

You told yourself that you were burning up because of the stuffy van, or because you were frustrated over the case you’d just finished. It was local, too, which was a grim reminder that terrible things happened everywhere, even at home. But in reality, you were pretty sure it was because you were sitting close enough to Hotch to smell him.

Equal parts, in fact, attracted to him and afraid of him. That was often the space where horniness brewed. 

You couldn’t say that you were feeling the result of combining those two emotions now, though. You were more silently suffering beside him now than you were fantasizing about his large, calloused hands wrapped around your―

You couldn’t say that you were feeling the result of combining those two emotions now, though. You were more silently suffering beside him now than you were fantasizing about his large, calloused hands wrapped around your―

“Y/L/N,” You blinked bewilderedly at the sound of Hotch’s voice, looking dazedly at him as he gestured to the door, “We’re here.”

“Oh,” You mumbled, your cheeks flaring once again, “I’m sorry, I-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hotch let a miniscule, exhausted smile creep over his face, “We’re all a little out of it right now.”

You hummed along in agreement, pulling the latch on the car door and stepping onto the rain-soaked ground. It had mostly stopped raining since you started driving, the only thing coming down being a light drizzle that you avoided by keeping a hand hovering above your eyes.

“I booked us for eight,” Garcia stuck by Morgan’s side as they stepped out of the second van, ensuring a seat beside him, “I thought we could treat ourselves tonight, y’know?”

You peered up at the dimly lit neon sign for the gourmet restaurant that Penelope had chosen, your work attire perfectly suited for the formal dress code. You filed through the door one by one, relishing in the slightly warm, cozy atmosphere of the restaurant.

Hotch held the door for you all, and stepped in just behind you, the last one to enter the restaurant. JJ was already speaking to the hostess, giving them your reservation information. You watched her brow furrow as she turned, her eyes scanning the eight of you before she turned back to the hostess and replied.

It seemed like troubling news, whatever it was that they were talking about. You simply shifted your weight between feet while you waited, your shoulder brushing against Hotch’s gently.

“Sorry.” You turned, edging away from him on the tiled floor so that you wouldn’t bump into him again.

“It’s fine,” He murmured, his hand pressing comfortingly into the small of your back for a split second as you steadied yourself, “Don’t worry about it.”

His voice was arguably more soothing and beautiful than the violin music coming from the speakers. You didn’t usually have the pleasure of hearing him outside of the office, and his work voice contrasted starkly with what you’d just heard. There was no tension, no professional lining to it, it was smooth, and low, and soft.

The feeling of his hand on your back nearly took you out, your head practically spinning as you tried focusing on JJ when she turned to face you all.

“They’re splitting us up,” She started, a sympathetic grimace on her face, “They’ve only got two tables, one for five and one for two. They said we could stick an extra chair at the one for five, but two of us are gonna have to eat separately.”

You watched everyone look awkwardly around, silently praying for someone else to take one for the team. Take two for the team, you supposed.

“I’ll go,” You stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention, “You guys enjoy your meal together!”

You didn’t feel unwelcome at the Bureau, by any means. But the rest of the team had worked together for significantly longer than you had, and you would feel bad sticking with them while their older friends had to eat elsewhere. You didn’t mind sitting one dinner out, especially if you’d get to eat some of the food that you saw being carted around.

There was a palpable release of tension at your volunteering, a few people sending you appreciatively sympathetic smiles, though there was still the matter of who’d be dining with you. 

You half hoped for Prentiss or Garcia, though you were sure that the latter wouldn’t dare leave Morgan’s side unless it was absolutely necessary. You mulled over the thought of dining with Reid, though you weren’t sure you’d be able to listen to him with the proper attention that he deserved, you were practically falling asleep standing up.

Before you could run through any other possible eating arrangements, that same smooth voice came from behind you, “I’ll join you, Y/L/N.”

You were almost certain that a few of your team members caught the way that your eyes widened a fraction. You turned tentatively to face Hotch, nodding and returning the half-smile that he sent your way.

“Right, well now that we’re all settled,” Prentiss smiled at you, nodding again in thanks, “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

You joined the group as they were led to their table, hovering awkwardly beside it while the waiter got them situated. You felt Hotch’s presence behind you, intimidating even in silence and out of sight, but soon enough your waiter was leading you to your own table.

The table for two was just as romantically-undertoned as you’d expected it to be. Candles stood tall and flickering between the two plates, and a single rose rested in a vase between them. You felt your legs threaten to give out as you sat down, your brain overanalyzing the way that Hotch pulled your chair out for you.

You busied yourself with your napkin, spreading it over your lap while Hotch sat. You weren’t sure if you’d have been able to stand the sight of his hands gripping the back of the chair, or the way that his pants hugged his thighs as they flexed when he sat.

“We’ll be back to take your orders in a bit, but could we get you started with any drinks?” The waiter hovered beside your table, pen and paper in hand as he looked between the two of you.

“I’ll just have a water,” You started, smiling gratefully at the waiter, “Thank you.”

“The same for me, please.” Hotch folded his hands together on the table, his watch glinting in the low lights of the restaurant, “Thanks.”

The waiter nodded, hurrying off to fulfill whatever orders he needed to bring out next. You glanced around at the floral patterns lining the accent wall of the restaurant, taking your blissfully granted opportunity to look at anything but the man across from you.

“Just water?” Hotch spoke after a moment, his eyes tracking you as you snapped back to attention.

“I’m not really in the mood for much else,” You hummed, “And you?”

“The only other thing I’m in the mood for is alcohol, and I don’t think they serve what I need here.” He cracked one of his rare jokes, a soft smile spreading over his face when you laughed.

“Tonight was tough,” You regretted bringing down the mood at the table, but you weren’t sure what else to say, “I think I’d agree with you that nothing they have here is hard enough.”

The waiter had sidled back over to your table by then, setting your waters down and giving you something to do.

Hotch took a sip of his and you pointedly avoided watching him, but you saw him nod at your words.

“I’m just glad we all made it out of there alive.”

You tried to take his words at face value, ‘we all’ meaning you and your team, but you couldn’t help but think of the unsub’s final victim, shot in the crossfires of the man’s takedown. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to forget watching her lifeless body fall to the ground any time soon. Not all of you had made it out of there alive, and you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

If you had just been faster; better at negotiation, perhaps? You were sure that there was a way to have gotten her out of there before she was killed, and it was disheartening to know that you’d failed her.

“Y/N?” For the second time that evening, Hotch’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. You realized that your grip on the glass had tightened slightly, your fingers pressed against the dewy cup until condensation ran down your wrist.

“Sorry,” You mumbled feebly, your cheeks growing hot as you registered his switch from your last name to your first, “I just- I was thinking about her.”

His face dimmed, and you regretted making the light leave his eyes.

“I am too,” He admitted, “Just don’t blame yourself.”

“But we-”

“Couldn’t have done anything.” Hotch didn’t even let you finish your sentence, giving you a knowing look, “Guilt like that will tear you apart. It gets easier with time, and this is one of your first, so I know it’s a lot. But I- uh, we are here to help, if you need it. Okay?”

His rather impromptu speech seemed to have drained him, his chest heaving with a long exhale when he stopped talking. Your eyes had widened slightly, and you nodded hesitantly at his words.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

“We’re not at work, Y/N,” He seemed relieved that you’d taken his advice, a gentle smile spreading over his face, “You can call me Aaron.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” You corrected yourself, sending him a similar smile as you sipped from your glass, your heart fluttering as his only widened.

“We should figure out what we want,” Aaron suggested, reaching for the menu that was set atop his plate, “It’s been a while since I ate here last.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been,” You mused, thumbing carefully through your own menu, “I haven’t really been out to eat much since moving here.”

Aaron let out a sympathetic hum at your words, “I’ve been living here for years and I still haven’t been out to eat much.”

You let out a short chuckle, your eyes skimming the seafood section of your menu, “Well, maybe if you left the office before eleven every once in a while, you’d have more dinner opportunities.’

“Maybe,” Aaron hid his wistful smile behind his menu, “But how do you know I never leave before eleven?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stop your bashful grin from spreading, “Well, okay, maybe I should leave earlier too.”

“Definitely,” He nodded, “It’s your first year on the job and you’re already trying to rival my hours.”

“I could never steal your title as reigning workaholic,” You teased, adoring the beautiful grin that seemed permanently affixed to Aaron’s lips now, “I think I’d work myself to death trying.”

He looked down at his menu once more, not to figure out what he wanted, but to keep the fondness he knew was brewing in his gaze out of sight. He could feel the rest of the team staring at the two of you, and he knew that he was acting more open now than he usually ever was with them. It was bound to raise questions.

“Have you two had time to look at the menu?” The waiter came back, asking despite seeing the menus in both of your hands. You nodded, handing them over as he jotted down your orders. The food was expensive, you knew the bill would be large, but Rossi had volunteered to pick up the tab (before he knew where you were going), and you weren’t going to let him take back his poorly timed generosity now.

The waiter left with your orders and your menu, leaving you and Hotch to pick up conversation again. You hoped to steer it away from your jobs, the topic all-too-familiar, and into something that might let you know more about your Unit Chief as a person.

“How’s Jack doing?” It was a good start, apparently, if the widening of Aaron’s smile was anything to go by.

“Good,” He glanced at his phone, and you knew that if he’d tapped the screen a picture of his son would come up, “He wants me to bring him back a book, even though this one was local. We have a little tradition, every time I miss reading him a bedtime story. I have to pick one up from wherever we are. I told him I’ll be home tonight, but I think he went to bed early just to weasel another book out of me.”

“Oh,” You gushed, “That’s adorable! What kind of books does he like to read?”

“We’re in the middle of the Magic Treehouse series right now.” Aaron reached into his suit jacket, rifling through a plastic bag that was tucked inside and flashing the cover for #64, “We’re only on number thirteen, but I miss a lot of bedtime stories.”

You hummed sympathetically, “I’m sure he’s happy when you do get to read them.” “He is,” Aaron smiled softly, images of his sleepy son asking him for one more chapter flashing through his head, “He doesn’t let anyone else read them to him. Just me.”

You cooed at the admission, watching Aaron’s cheeks tinge just the slightest bit pink. You caught Prentiss’s eye from across the room, her own blown wide open as she gestured frantically between you and Hotch.

You looked away as if you hadn’t seen her, not wanting to ruin the moment you’d gotten yourself into with Aaron.

“What about you? Are you a big reader?” Hotch raised an eyebrow, taking another sip from his drink. 

“Well I’ve advanced a bit past the Magic Treehouse series,” You joked, “But yeah, I usually read on the jet.”

“I’ve noticed,” Aaron admitted, not missing the way your eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the thought of him watching you, “Sometimes I can’t even see your face behind the book you’re reading.”

“I just get into it,” You groaned sheepishly, “They’re good books!”

“I’m sure.” Aaron hummed into his glass, the water level dwindling as he glanced around the restaurant. 

--

By the time you’d gotten your food, you’d received twelve texts. Six from Penelope, three of which had some form of sexual innuendo about them, two from Prentiss, who demanded that you reveal your true feelings over your accidental candlelight dinner, one from JJ, asking you if the bread at your table was as dry as it was at theirs, one from Rossi who had mispelled several words in asking if you were ‘comsiderig tbis a datw’, and finally, one from Reid, complete gibberish which he’d accidentally typed while the phone was in his pocket.

You ignored all but Penelope’s, knowing that she’d come over to your table and talk to you herself, right then and there, if you didn’t answer.

Shut up, you typed, your fingers tapping the screen below your table so as not to look rude, If you guys ruin this for me I’ll ruin you.

You watched with disdain as Penelope handed her phone to Derek, the two giggling at your message before Derek typed back.

Someone’s real defensive ;) - D

Just stop looking at me like you expect me to strip for him right here, I can’t-

“How was your food?” Hotch raised an eyebrow, watching your gaze shoot up to meet his in surprise. He let out an apologetic, ‘oh,’ shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem,” You locked your phone eagerly, happy to not have to carry on conversation with the other table anymore, stuffing it in your pocket, “It wasn’t important.”

You would have been content to continue your casual conversation with the man, but his eyes lingered on you, the flickering candlelight between you reflected in his discerning gaze.

“Y/N,” He started, a hint of something you’d never heard (uncertainty?) in his voice, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” You hoped that the way your voice shook was just in your head, because the simple question had your stomach in knots, “Ask away.”

“Why did you volunteer to sit here so fast?”

“What?”

“When we got the news that we needed to split,” Aaron gestured back to the hostess stand, “You stepped up almost immediately. Why was that?”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to lie to a profiler, let alone a seasoned one like Hotch. But you tried anyways, letting a smile that didn’t reach your eyes cross your face as you joked, “I just wanted to get things moving along so we could eat faster.”

He hummed in acknowledgement of your answer, but not in acceptance. He took another long sip of his now-refilled water, speaking again after licking his lips softly.

“What you said back there: ‘You guys enjoy your meal together?’”

“What about it?” Your brow furrowed as Hotch quoted you, uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach as he kept his eyes locked on you.

“You weren’t taking one for the team, Y/N. You were excluding yourself. Why?”

“I don’t- I don’t really think that-”

“Please be honest with me.” Hotch murmured, his own brows dipping as he watched your reactions to his questions, “I’d like to know what your reasoning was. It’s important to me.”

Another lie was on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill from your lips, but Hotch’s concerned eyes seemed to melt your stubbornness away, and you sighed inaudibly.

“I felt like they’d enjoy a meal together more than if I was there. They’ve known each other for way longer than they’ve known me, it makes sense for me to duck out first.”

Hotch finally seemed to take your answer as the truth, which was good, because you’d never been more honest with the man. His face was set in his usual neutral frown, but his lips shifted miniscully as he monitored your confession.

“I- I know I’m welcome here,” You felt as though you needed to contribute more to the discussion, him having fallen silent and leaving an awkward air behind, “I just thought that I’d let everyone else have their dinner together.”

Before you’d even said the last word, the waiter had come by with your check. Apparently the other table was taking longer, even though Rossi had forbade anyone from ordering dessert and lengthening the bill.

“Thank you,” Aaron broke out of his trance, his eyes leaving yours for the first time in minutes as he slid his card into the folder, “The food was excellent.”

“Hotch,” You murmured, forgoing his first name after your conversation had taken such an intimate turn, “Rossi said-”

“I’d like to pay for tonight.” He stated simply, handing the waiter back your bill, “Would you return the card to that table? We need to leave rather urgently.” Hotch gestured between the two of you, and your heart sunk. Were you terrible enough company for him to want to rush out like this? How awful had your admission been to drive him away?

Tears stung at your eyes and you ducked your head to hide them from Hotch, though you knew he saw them anyways. The waiter frowned at the odd request, but ultimately complied, leaving your table once more to charge the card.

Hotch stood abruptly, readjusting his suit jacket on his shoulders and subsequently rustling the plastic bag inside. You made to stand up by yourself, but Hotch circled the table, gripping the arms of your chair and gently pulling you out from the table. He laid a hand on your arm, guiding you up and out of the chair, then the same hand flew once more to the small of your back.

You tensed at the contact, and you knew he felt it. But he didn’t back down, waving subtly at the rest of your team and leading you out the front doors of the building.

You followed him without protest, walking side by side through the parking lot. His hand never left its comforting position on your lower back, even though the mood of the situation was less-than-pleasant.

You felt anxiety churning your stomach as he stepped up to the van, unlocking the doors and holding the passenger’s side open for you.

“Hop in,” He offered at your hesitant gaze, “We’re going team building.”

“Team building?”

“Team building.” He confirmed, offering no further explanation, “In.”

You climbed into the van, sliding your seatbelt over your chest and thanking him softly when he went to shut the door for you. You felt your phone vibrate relentlessly in your pocket, probably another round of texts from everyone wondering if you were boning your boss in the government vehicle. Hotch rounded the front of the van in seconds, stepping up into the driver’s side seat and starting up the car.

“Dessert preference?” He adjusted his mirrors, not bothering to look you in your (very confused) eyes.

“Wh- what?”

“What do you want for dessert?” He finally glanced over at you, “We’re stopping by a bakery.”

“Oh, Hotch, you don’t have to-” You cut yourself off at his stern gaze, not sure whether it was because you’d called him ‘Hotch’ or because you were protesting his actions. Probably a bit of both, so you swallowed, starting again, “What do they have?”

“A bunch,” Aaron glanced behind him, stretching a hand to rest on the back of your seat as he turned, backing out of the spot with his free hand, “I usually get a muffin.”

“That sounds good,” You hummed, trying to focus on anything but the soft bulge of his muscles from under his shirt, “Um, Aaron?”

He seemed much more pleased once you addressed him the way he’d asked, turning to face you with a soft smile, “Yes?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?” His smile never fell, traces of amusement lingering as it dimmed.

“This,” You gestured to the road he’d started on, “Why did we leave the restaurant?”

“Because we were finished eating.” He spoke plainly, “That’s what you do once you pay the check.”

“That’s not what I mean,” You let out an exasperated but lighthearted scoff, a small smile creeping over your lips, “I mean, why did we ditch everyone and drive to a bakery at eight at night?”

“Oh,” Aaron feigned surprise, “That.”

“Yes that,” You let out a breathy laugh, “Is there a reason you abducted me?”

“Abducted,” Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as his smile turned fond, “I told you. Team building.”

“Well we left our team back there.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to tell them what you told me.” Aaron’s voice became softer, more sincerity coating it rather than its previously-contained sarcasm.

“So that’s why you’re doing this?”

“Yes.” He nodded once, “I’m glad that you don’t feel unwelcome with us, but if you still think that you’re the odd one out, you clearly haven’t spent enough time with us outside of the office.”

“That’s not- I don’t think I’m the odd one out!” You protested weakly, “I’m just the newest.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re the least desirable.” Aaron glanced over at you carefully from the driver’s seat, “It’s important to me that this team feels like one. And if you’re not feeling that a hundred percent, I’m going to do something about it.”

His sincere concern for you left more butterflies swarming around your stomach than you’d have liked to admit. You wished so desperately that you could turn off your attraction to him, that you could take his words at face value and treat him like your boss. But there was always the desire for something more hidden deep inside of you, and it crawled further and further towards the light the more he expressed such gentle care for you.

You leaned to the left slightly as he turned the van rather sharply, and his hand shot out to rest on your thigh.

“You okay?” He murmured, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m good,” You answered honestly, your eyes locked onto the way that his hand dug slightly into your thigh, “I’m good.”

“Good.” He parroted you, a satisfied smile adorning his features.

When he finally pulled into the bakery’s parking lot, the dimly lit sign flickered with age. It was a little hole-in-the-wall place, shelves lining the walls of different baked goods that looked a thousand times better than any tiny portion you’d have gotten at the restaurant you’d eaten at.

Aaron gestured subtly to the rack of muffins, “That’s what I usually get. But you’re welcome to anything, Y/N.”

Your eyes skimmed over the prices listed on the display cases, flickering away from items whenever the first digit went over 5. You felt in your pocket, making sure that you still had your spare $5 that you’d stuck in there after lunch that day. Finally you decided on a chocolate croissant, smiling kindly at the woman behind the counter as you ordered.

“And a chocolate muffin, please.” Aaron was suddenly right behind you, that comforting touch of his hand on your lower back again, “Thank you.”

You didn’t dare turn, having heard his voice from right beside your head. You weren't sure what you'd do if you made eye contact with him while your faces were that close, but you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. If he felt you tense once more at his touch, he didn’t let on, standing confidently behind you at the counter as he waited for the woman ringing you up to be finished.

Your total came out to be less than $5, and you jumped at the chance to repay one of Aaron’s many favors towards you that night. Before you could so much as touch the bill that laid in your pocket, though, Aaron was sliding another card over the counter and handing it to the woman.

“Aaron-” You started, “Please let me pay for this.”

“Not neccessary,” He brushed you off, pushing your hand away when you offered up your cash, “This was my idea, I’ll cover the tab.”

You wanted to protest more, to insist that he let you pay, but you would have caused a scene, and you didn’t want to inflict that upon the poor employee. Instead you merely frowned, nodding in agreement and thanks.

You took the bag that the woman handed you, the brown paper wrinkling under your touch. You could feel the heat from the pastries inside, and even though you’d just eaten, your stomach twisted eagerly at the thought of a warm, gooey chocolate croissant. 

Aaron slipped his card back into his wallet, his hand returning to its now permanent place against your back. His touch was electrifying, burning through the layers of clothing you had on and searing your skin.

You wished that the night hadn’t been as chilly as it was, because when he removed his hand to open the door for you, you felt a chill. You tried to commit the feeling of his hand pressing flush against your back to your memory, ashamed as you admitted to yourself that you’d spend many a night trying to relive the scenario.

You set the bag of warm pastries in your lap, thanking Aaron softly as he helped you get settled again. His attentiveness hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, and you couldn’t help but read further into it than you should have. The attraction that had been swelling in your chest since the moment you laid eyes on the man was starting to surface, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain it if he touched you any more than he already had.

He stepped up into the van with the same confidence he had before, settling himself in his seat but waiting to shut his door. 

He slid his suit jacket off of his shoulders, eyeing your sheer blouse, “You cold?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, your jaw tensing before you stammered, “Only a little, but I don’t-” 

Before you could finish your feeble protests he had spread out the jacket, twisting his arms in what was probably a very uncomfortable gesture to lower the fabric over your shoulders. The faint scent that you had caught being sat beside him earlier was nothing compared to the smell that enveloped you as the fabric of his jacket clung to your shoulders, cozy and inviting, faintly husky.

Without meaning to, you shrunk into the jacket, relishing in what would probably be the closest you’d ever get to hugging the man. 

He watched you with that same hint of fondness he’d displayed in the restaurant, finally shutting his door and keeping the cold out. You thanked him softly, biting your lips to contain your overjoyed smile at the advances you were determined to look too far into.

“It’s no problem, Y/N.” His voice, just as low as it normally was, created a completely different atmosphere than it typically did, warming your heart instead of chilling it. While he was usually intimidating and cold, the affection dripping from his sincere smile made you genuinely forget what he looked like when he was stoic.

It was a beautiful expression on him, happiness. You wished that you could see it all the time, that his work didn’t suck so much joy out of his life, but you made a mental note to ask him about Jack more, because the same emotions lit up his face at the mention of his son.

You realized you’d been staring at him for way too long, clearing your throat lightly. Your eyes were locked onto his own, and you must have had some delusional lapse of coherency, because you could have sworn that his eyes had flickered down to your lips for a split second. But you had to be imagining things.

He reached forward, and your chest tightened. You swallowed lightly, preparing yourself for whatever impossible scenario was about to happen, but his hand only curled around the bakery bag, unfurling the crinkled paper.

You cursed yourself for being so hopelessly romantic, watching as he reached in, his muffin and your croissant in the same large hand.

“Here,” He handed you your pastry, “We’re eating in the car.”

“Isn’t that a bit unprofessional?” You teased, priding yourself on your steady voice.

“That’s the point.” He grinned, breaking off a piece of his muffin and popping it into his mouth, speaking delicately around the treat, “We have to be unprofessional together if we want to work well professionally.”

It was a sensible statement, it really was. But your mind began wandering to all of the other unprofessional things that you two could do together, Derek and Penelope’s teasing far too accurate to what ran rampant in your brain.

You took a bite of your croissant to give you something to do, to fill your mouth so that none of the words on the tip of your tongue could fall out and embarrass you.

You hummed softly at the warm pastry, the taste of chocolate fresh on your tongue, “‘S good.”

“Mine too,” Aaron agreed, leaning his seat back so that he was all but laying down, “Y’wanna open the sunroof? We can look out at the stars.”

You couldn’t help but scoff incredulously, an amused smile on your face, “Where did this come from?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This,” You gestured to him lounging in his government vehicle, munching on a warm chocolate muffin far too late into the night, “What happened to you? Is it the jacket?” You brushed a hand against the fabric over your frame, “When you take it off, does it break some grumpy spell you’ve had cast over you by a mean old witch? You’re a completely different person than I’ve ever seen you!”

He laughed, long and loud and free at your accusations, his eyes crinkling at the corners as chocolate stained his lower lip, “That’s why we need to do this, Y/N. We need to know each other outside of the office, or else we won’t know each other at all.”

You smiled, shaking your head teasingly at his words. This was a side of Aaron Hotchner that you liked, one that didn’t make you want to shrivel under his gaze and apologize for something that you didn’t do.

“This is not what I had expected of tonight,” You admitted, rolling back the sunroof and reclining your own seat, “I thought you were gonna fire me or something.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, you ran us out of that restaurant like it was rigged to blow!” You urged, eyes wide as you swiped chocolate off of your cheek, “I admitted I didn’t feel like one of the team quite yet and I thought you were gonna ensure that I never would be!”

He let out another one of his laughs, the sound quickly climbing your list of favorites, “I wouldn’t fire you for that. But, I mean, are you enjoying this? Even if it’s not what you’d expected?”

You wanted to gush, to tell him that it was the best night you’d had since moving to Virginia, profess your undying love for the man right then and there. But you caught yourself before you could, your tongue digging at your bottom lip to rid it of chocolate stains, and you spoke carefully and sincerely instead.

“I’m enjoying it. Thank you, Aaron,” His name felt comfortable on your tongue now, instead of foreign, “I really appreciate this. I was nervous, y’know. To tell you. Because I don’t even think I’d admitted it to myself, I.. I was kind of just trying to pretend. Fake it ‘till you make it, y’know?”

He nodded, his eyes drifting to the open sunroof above you and trailing after each star that he could see, “I know what you mean. But I’m glad you’re having a good time, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up until now,” A frown threatened to take over his beautiful smile, and it tugged at your heartstrings, “But you’re just as valuable as anyone else on our team, whether we’ve known your for minutes, for days, or for years.”

His sweet sentiment, murmured in that beautifully low, soothing voice of his, had you containing yet another massive smile. This time you let it break free, though, not even bothering to hide it behind your croissant as you turned to catch his eye.

“Thank you, Aaron, again.”

“Anytime,” He hummed, “You can tell me, you know? If things don’t feel right.”

What didn’t feel right was that you weren’t in his arms. He wasn’t holding you, he wasn’t kissing you, he wasn’t loving you. But you shook those desires away, nodding thankfully.

“I will,” You weren’t sure if you’d keep that vow, the threat of annoying him with your mediocre feelings scarier to you than feeling out of place. But you placated him with promises anyways, so that he settled back into his seat, his muffin nearly gone.

“Favorite star?” He asked, breaking a moment of silence.

“I- I don’t have one,” You hesitated, frowning slightly, “Do you?”

“No,” He admitted, a light blush dusting his cheeks as they raised into a bashful grin, “I don’t know why I asked.”

You laughed, the sound lighting up his expression just like his had done to you, “You don’t have to make conversation if you don’t have anything to say,” You chided him, “I’m perfectly happy to sit in silence for a bit.”

“You are?” He glanced over at you, something hesitant lingering behind his eyes.

“Of course!” You took another bite of your croissant, careful not to get crumbs on the jacket still draped over you, “This is nice.”

“It is.” A wistful smile broke out over Aaron’s face, and he tore his eyes away from you before he could do anything rash, “Thank you for opening up to me, Y/N.”

“Thank you for joining me tonight,” Your words held more behind them than you hoped Aaron perceived, “I’m glad it was you.”

You were too busy staring at the stars to watch him react to what you’d said, so you missed his eyes darting to your cozy figure, curled up on the seat in his jacket with your croissant in your hands. He admired you for longer than he’d like to admit, his eyes raking down your form and back up again, drinking in the sight of you in his jacket.

“Me too, Y/N,” He murmured, turning back to the stars, “Me too.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! i've actually got a multi-chaptered hotch x bau!reader story in the works, and i might tweak this and add it in as a chapter. but for now, it's a standalone!

taglist: @sunflowermotel @honeybrowne @red-red-rogue

Hunter Schafer | Vogue Italia/Germany | May 22, 2024 | 📷 Ethan James Green

College Days - A. H.

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader Word count: 10.7k Summary: when you met Aaron back in college, he was not the serious bureaucrat he is in modern days. also kinda sunshine x grumpy but not in the expected way :) A/n: this was going to be one whole thing but... I think i'm going to do two parts so... enjoy !

You didn’t go to college to mess around. You were there to get your points. Get your degree. Get the job of your dreams. Well… your family's dreams but that was besides the point. 

Not a day went by where your family wasn’t talking about you becoming a lawyer. It became such a usual conversation topic you nearly forgot it wasn’t your idea. 

But you pretended it was. Besides, going down the coast for your law degree couldn’t be that horrible. George Washington University was far enough from family that you wouldn’t feel pressured into doing anything you didn’t truly want. 

Which included the fact your parents wanted you to live on campus. Which you wouldn’t mind if you didn’t see that another first year was looking for a roommate about five minutes off grounds. 

All your life you’d shared a room with your siblings. Literally from the day they were born up until graduation. Your sister and you shared a room, sometimes forced to share with your brother. So of course you leaped at a chance for your own space, own area. 

And your now roommate, Louise Davis, was just the entry you needed. She was a biology major, you were there for political science and a minor for criminal justice. 

A good duo. 

There were rarely any classes together. You planned to take the necessary art class together though, a chance to have some time together where you’re not just mutually studying. 

And you’d now been roommates for two, going on three years. Like sisters practically. Told each other everything, and really… everything. You knew WAY too much about her love and sex life with her boyfriend, Jared. 

They’d been a whole ‘will they/won't they’ since freshman year but apparently sometimes over the summer he asked her out and they’d been together since. 

Which was swell and all but you were… not a fan of his roommate. Aaron Hotchner. You were there for the same major but he was always acting like he had all the time in the world for everything. 

You weren’t entirely sure you saw a time where he wasn’t grinning like a goof or laughing at something either he or Jared had said. 

In classes you shared, sure, he took notes. But at the same time he was drawing stupid little figures into the margins of his lined paper. 

Not that you took notice of them that much. Just those days he sat close enough that you caught a glimpse. You hated those days. 

The way he seemed to care less and less made you so… mad? Like he shouldn’t even be in these classes. This school even. Why you cared about his studies or lack thereof was completely questionable to you. 

But regardless, the nights where Louise begged you to go out with her and Jared were hard. You wanted to study, she told you there was still two weeks until the paper was due and practically dragged you out of the apartment. 

And each time it of course wasn’t just you two. Nope. Aaron was there. And sure, you should have been less stiff. Been able to let go, drink a few drinks, dance even. But all you could think of was that you weren’t home studying. 

Which was apparently noticeable by everyone around you. “Seriously, y/n, you need to take a break. I don’t think I have ever seen you just… be.” Louise had a large smile on her face, cheeks tinted red from the warmth and alcohol in her system. And her words were lighthearted. 

She wanted you to have a good time. To not be bound down because of your studies. Louise knew you were only this hard on yourself because you were the oldest of three, an oldest daughter at that and you knew you had to succeed. 

She knew. 

But she also knew that you needed to breathe. Find a way to be yourself in ways you wouldn’t let yourself. Which was evident with the shake of your head, “Lou, really, it’s bad enough I’m out right now instead of starting my essay for Korofsky’s class. The last thing I need is to get distracted.”

He was your harshest teacher and you were constantly terrified he’d write off your work and down play what you got. 

It wouldn’t surprise you. He always half offed the girls grades in class. How the hell did Aaron fucking Hotchner get a near perfect score on his probably half assed paper but you got a near ten points less?

You slept a total of five hours in the three nights it took you to write that. But he got a better score. Maybe that’s what ticked you off about the boy. 

He didn’t try. And apparently didn’t have to try like you did. And it got right up under your skin. Especially now, you needed to be home, writing and you knew that’s where you’d rather be. 

But he was out in the middle of the dance floor, probably three beers deep with Jared who was half dancing, half waiting for his girlfriend to join him. 

“Oh come on y/n/n. It’s one night.”

“A lot of stuff happens in one night. Seriously, you go dance. I’m good right here.” You said glancing around for any chance you could get to run off. Any chance. 

There didn’t seem to be one for a while after Louise ran off, her eyes going over to you too much to make a smooth getaway. 

And that dwindled when the Bain of your existence came up next to you, “why aren’t you out there?” Aaron questioned, out of breath with bright red cheeks. He leaned on the table, hoping it would give enough leverage that he could catch his breath. 

You gave him the cold shoulder, not responding. Not unusual. He noted the way you ignored his existence quickly. Did he have any idea why you hated him? Nope. Not a clue. But he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him want to bother you more. 

He liked annoying you, hoping at some point you’d crack and decide that he wasn’t a horrible person. Because he wasn’t. He was just following his fathers footsteps. Which you didn’t know but that didn’t matter to either of you. 

“Oh come on, you’re gonna ignore me now too? This isn’t karofsky’s class where I’m asking for your notes.” He sighed, looking over at you, giving you an expectant smile when you looked back. 

Slightly you sighed, sipping the virgin Shirley temple you had in front of you, “I don’t want to be out there.” You gave in a monotone voice. Clearly wanting both him to go away and not talk to you. 

Ever. 

“Why not? They have some pretty good music-“

“I just don’t.” Your voice came out snappier than intended but the constant harassment of why you didn’t want to be out was just added to the annoyance of said instance. 

Somehow Aaron seemed to understand that, nodding, “Alright. If you want help sneaking out, I can help.” His offer genuinely surprised you. 

You looked him over, he was a college boy so you felt like you should be weary, but he was also friends with Jared who was nice enough for you to trust who he kept company with. 

Even with the slight hesitation you nodded, “Would you?” He nodded instantly. Unbeknownst to you he was all for secrets and assisting in them. 

“Course, come on. I’ll tell them you felt sick, walked you home.” He held his arm out to you which you took, shockingly, before walking out with him. 

Whether Louise and/or Jared noticed didn’t even matter, you seemed perfectly okay walking out of the small bar with the kid you swore up and down you hated and it wasn’t that horrible. 

That’s when things shifted. You had formed some sort of alliance with him. He acted like he wanted nothing to do with you so Jared would have a reason to tell Louise not to invite you out more. Which she hated and did anyway but when you said the same thing back to her she bit her cheek and dropped it. 

It was like a magical form of detestment. Except now you wanted to be around him. You didn’t put those thoughts over your work. Never ever. But when you went to class you didn’t mind if you ‘had’ to sit next to him. 

He didn’t seem to mind either. Especially not when you were the quiet one that had all your note taking stuff ready in front of you before class started and he got to just go off about some stupid shit Jared did that morning. 

A lot of the time you wanted to tell him to shut up, but truthfully you did happen to half smile at his words sometimes. And it was like he was chasing that. Like he wanted to see it. 

And maybe he did. 

But he’d never admit that. Not even on his death bed. Because he was nearly sure you were still indifferent to him. Which you weren’t. 

Lots of miscommunication and misunderstanding going on but neither of you were brave enough to confront it and set things straight. 

It wasn’t like you had given up on school, that was still your focus and 9/10 you were truly nose deep in your work or a text book for whatever class it was that kept you away from everyone. 

Near the end of the year it was worse. The last couple of months were hell. Your eyes burned more easily. Words blurred together on the paper and the library was practically your first home. Not even second. First. 

You’d leave there later than anyone, which was admittedly creepy (you were convinced it was haunted), but you still did it anyway. Getting there after your last class of the day and just pouring every remaining brain cell into the papers and homework that were due. 

It was tiring. Exhausting. The amount of times your hand cramped up from the fast paced cursive you wrote out couldn’t be counted on your fingers and your knee bounced with every second you had to reread a line. 

Because that didn’t say that did it? Oh it did… no it didn’t. 

You really couldn’t make out this last chapter for the semester, none of the words making any goddamn sense and it was making you so frustrated you wanted to cry. 

There was a throbbing in your temple that was working its way across your forehead and it really felt like your brain was going to explode. Could that happen? Who cares, that’s what it felt like. 

Honestly, your presence at the library was very noticed. If not by the librarians then the other students that also frequented. Can you guess who one of those students would be?

Aaron. He noticed because everyday he’d sit at least an hour to catch up on notes he’d missed in class thanks to whoever was kind enough to give him the in between stuff and each time he managed to find you. 

It helped that you had a designated spot. Honorary of course. You liked being in the corner, against the far wall. Sure you used one of the bigger tables but it was never clear. Always covered with something. A text book. Notebooks. Loose papers. Everything or a mix of it. 

Regardless it made it rather easy to spot you. The highlighter colored jacket you wore quite often brought his eyes over to you easily, plenty of times. 

A part of him thought he should stay where he was at but he just couldn’t ignore you. “Do you ever go home?” He asked as he sat across from you. 

No wait for an invitation, just… sat. You looked up at him without lifting your head. 

“Do you ever study?” Your voice tight. “Yes, now leave me alone.” You sighed, stressed enough as is, that you couldn’t focus on the words on the paper. Of course he didn’t listen, because why would he?

Instead he just stayed across, crossing his arms on the table and looking over at what exactly you were reading. “What class is that for?” He tried to question, a groan of annoyance leaving your mouth. 

“Do you know what leave me alone means?” You asked, finally looking at him. He scrunched his nose up, his eye doing the same as he hummed. 

“Mmm, not entirely. Come on, you never take a break… that’s gotta get tiring,” He continued, eyes on you fully.

It slightly burned that he was just staring, trying to ignore the way it made you slightly self conscious. “I don’t want to take a break. Can you just-“

“Leave you alone, yeah yeah, heard that before.” He said, “How about instead of interrogating you, I ask how your studying is going?” He shifted, you biting your cheek. 

“Admittedly not great.” You confessed for some reason, subconsciously craving some sort of buffer before returning to work as you sighed, “I’m trying to focus and it isn’t happening. You’re really not helping either.”

Aaron smiled, “Well if it already wasn’t going great then how much worse would I be making it?” He offered with a chuckle, tilting his head. 

You wanted to argue his words but, he sadly had somewhat of a point. “Oh shut up. I’m serious.” You ended up spilling how and why you had truthfully hit a block that was practically killing you. 

“Would it help if someone read it to you? Take notes from that?” He asked and for a second you thought it was a stupid question. But honestly, it could help. 

You shrugged, “Maybe? But it’s not like there’s an audio version of this just laying around.” You muttered, trying to focus on again as Aaron laughed lightly. 

“Well I was going to offer to read it myself but you seem to be very well off on your own so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait.” You cut him off, grabbing his hand as he went to stand and leave. “It’s worth a try. I really need to go over this tonight.” You felt crazy asking, even crazier for the fact that you’re hand stayed where it was the entirety of the time you spoke and as he sat back down in the chair. 

Quickly you pulled it back, turning the text book to him. “I’m here but honestly, I don’t know what the hell the first couple pages were so…”

You trailed off but he nodded, flipping to the opening page. “No worries, I’ll start from the beginning.” He replied casually, like he genuinely didn’t mind that he was here, helping. 

His voice was all you focused on as he read word for word, line by line through every last page. It truthfully was helping immensely that you could tell him to stop and he would, elaborating when needed. 

It was nice. 

But you’d never admit that. You kept the straight line of your lips on your face and no other emotion behind your eyes. You were in school for a serious degree that you were serious about getting. 

There was no need to mess around and get comfortable with a boy. At all. (But you wanted to.)

Instead of acting on anything you just let him read, unaware of how his eyes went over every once in a while, adoring the way your hair slipped over your shoulder. A chuckle leaving his lips when you told him to pause so you could tie back said hair. 

By the end you had a pretty solid few pages of notes and a satisfied Aaron. 

“Honestly, I think I understood more by reading that out loud than I ever have by reading it to myself.” He admitted, closing the book and slipping it over to your pile that was admittedly messy. 

You started putting away everything, glancing at him, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can make this a thing. I read, you write, I… copy the notes you take so I have a more digestible version?” He offered and you wanted to say no. 

Being with him as is was enough. But it helped a lot. And it helped him. God why did you care that it helped him too? You sighed, tightening the ponytail that had been made an hour ago, nodding. 

“How do you do it?” You asked, his look of confusion making you take in a breath. “You’re always laughing. Or goofing off. I hardly ever even see you take notes in class. This is a serious job we’re going into and you’re just… not. How do you do it?”

Aaron hesitated before shrugging faintly, “I don’t know, it’s just how I am I guess..” He trailed off, watching for your reaction and for an inevitable answer to his offer.

“Alright, we can do this again.” Your voice tight. Hiding… something behind it that he took note of, too tired to try and go into it today, well, tonight. It was technically tomorrow now since it was 1am. 

Aaron smiled, standing, “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

“Your apartment is on the opposite side of campus. I’ll be fine.” You brushed off his statement, his dark brown eyes immediately darkening. 

“Y/n, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning and from here your apartment is on the opposite side of campus and then some. I’m walking you.” His words left no room for disagreement and truthfully you’d never seen him sound as serious as he just did. 

There was always some sort of goofiness or joke behind his tone. But this? You simply nodded at him, deciding to not argue and just go with it. He’d be the one walking back and forth. Not your problem. 

“Fine.” You muttered, finally zipping the backpack you brought with you up and lugging it onto your back. The weight of it did nothing but make your body ache but you had to carry it all so you learned to ignore it. 

Aaron glanced at you, “you want me to carry that?” His voice back to being lighthearted as he gestured to the bag. 

“I got it.” You said with a shake of your head, immediately feeling a bit guilty at how harsh that had come out so you glanced back at him, “thank you though.” A shift in your tone. 

Maybe you were starting to not hate him as much as you thought you did. 

—

“Y/n, are you listening to me?” Louise looked over at you, your nose in a book that was shockingly, not actually school related. It instead was just a pleasure read and you were trying to be content with that.

She wasn’t of course, “Oh come on. That’s not even for school and you’re still focused more on that than the fact I’m trying to plan you a birthday party?” Her weight was next to you in your bed in seconds, no sense of personal space known to her.

You sighed, tucking the small bookmark into the book and putting it on the bedside table. “Lou, I have told you like, a million and one times. I don’t want a birthday party. It’s not like it’s a milestone-”

“25 most definitely is a milestone. You have one year left at this school before you’re officially off, being whatever lawyer you’re going to be. This is my last year here. So therefore. Milestone. Now. I’m thinking we just do something at that bar we went to across town.” Louise rambled off, her legs crossing.

You pursed your lips, deciding to just give into her vision. “Okay, okay. So are you like, wanting ideas? Or?” You questioned, leaning back on your bed a bit to finally stretch some from where you were.

“Yes! Yes please. I know you like The Addams family and Halloween and it’s very out of season to do but would you want to do a costume party?” Her question made your eyebrows raise. How she even knew that you had no idea. 

It wasn’t like you were loud and proud about your likeness of the spooky season or the movie, aside from the fact you went and saw it three times when it came out. “That… would actually be really, really, cool.” You admitted,

“And before you ask, you can be Morticia, I know you’ve been dying to be her for halloween.” You didn’t even have to think as you spoke, you did love the movie but if you were going to dress up as anything it was going to be something completely different than what she would be thinking.

Louise’s eyes widened, “Oh I love you so much, okay, I’m gonna start planning everything, don’t worry.” She leaned forward to hug you tightly, practically snapping your back before she hopped up, already having a thousand ideas in her mind about the party.

On the same hand, you were thinking over what to be. There were two main options, pull out the Dorothy from the wizard of Oz dress from a couple years ago or look for a Princess Leia outfit. Considering you were recently back into Star Wars the latter won and you were hoping to god you could find something to wear.

—

The weekend of the party got here quickly. Quicker than you’d like but truthfully it didn’t matter much since you had already gotten all the pieces necessary for your costume, now just sitting in front of your mirror attempting to perfect the hairstyle Leia wore with it.

Different than the usual side buns since you opted for the more conservative outfit from Return of the Jedi. Meaning a nice braided crown was all you needed and was majorly simple in comparison to keeping the two buns even or stopping them from drooping. All would’ve been roadblockers. 

“Are you ready?” Louise’s voice called out, poking her head through the door. “Oh god, you are such a dork.” A small smile on her face. She’d already seen both Jared and Aaron’s costumes and was ready to leave.

You stood, turning, “Yeah, yeah, but does it look okay?” You questioned, worryful that it would look weird on you. Louise had seen the movies but she wasn’t as into them as you were. She came in, stepping around you.

“Amazing, come on. The boys are waiting.” She pulled your arm, taking you from the room and the two boys were in the living room. 

Jared of course was matching with Louise, a nice suit that looked like Gomez’ and his hair slicked back. It was fitting. Very nice.

You froze as you looked at Aaron, “Oh you’re kidding..” You muttered, looking over his brown pants, beige long sleeved shirt and dark blue vest down to the leg harness and fake gun that mirrored yours in it. “Han Solo?”

“Princess Leia.” He copied your questionable tone as you sighed, your eyes closing momentarily before you nodded. “Nice.” He didn’t mind (accidentally) matching the birthday girl, but the other two took note of the way your face went pink.

People would think it was on purpose. Everyone around was aware of that and apparently you were the only one that cared. “I’m going to change, I still have my Dorothy costume-”

“No! Y/n/n we are already late for your own party. You look amazing, who cares if you match Aaron? It’s cute. Now let's go.” She didn’t even give you time to head back into your room before she gripped your wrist and pulled you out the door.

The boys were right behind you and you couldn’t deny that you were aware of Aaron’s eyes on you. Because of course they were. The costumes were making his confidence grow, aside from the same degree, he wasn’t sure you had anything in common really aside from the friends you both kept.

But now? You liked Star Wars, he loved Star Wars. You knew enough of the movies to pick the least popular outfit from the trilogy and it honestly made his heart race. Just the thought of bringing the conversation up. 

He never knew what to talk about around you. All he could muster was laws and some criminology he learned from the criminal justice class he took. By the time you made it to the bar together, he had about three different topics he wanted to go on and on about.

A small chorus of cheers, mainly from Louise’s friends rather than people you actually knew greeted you and the party was on. You allowed yourself two drinks. Two. That was it. Alcohol wise anyway.

“Hey,” Aaron’s voice should have caught you off guard but considering he was one of maybe four people you actually knew here, two of which were already off sucking face somewhere, it didn’t. And you could tell at some point he’d show up.

How could he not? “Hi.” You were used to being around him now, the coldness you usually put off to him had dwindled to just a slight breeze if anything at all. Especially since he’d become your official book reader.

A smile was already on his lips but it grew when he realized you were past the ‘hating his guts’ phase, “Nice costume,” He of course started, your eyes lifting to his. There was a layer of teasing to his words. Aaron was well aware that you didn’t like the implications that an accidental matching costume had. Especially not a stereotypical couples costume.

“Right.”

“Maybe we should have discussed what we were going to wear more, huh,” He chuckled, sipping the beer he’d already gotten. You couldn’t judge that choice, you already had a dirty shirley in front of you as well.

A small hint of a smile attempting to grace your face but you pushed it away as you nodded, “Yeah, maybe.” You muttered, picking a cherry from your drink and eating it. Absent-mindedly you put the stem in your mouth, twisting it with your tongue into a knot and putting it on the napkin in front of you.

Aaron gaped at you, his eyes glancing from your face down to the stem before he nodded, “Next time…” He trailed off before clearing his throat and forcing himself to walk away from you. That was unusual. He never was the first one to stop the conversation, he always bothered you until you told him to go away.

Your eyes traveled to the stem, eyes widening. Oh. That… that made sense. The whole bar trick thing. You hadn’t even thought about that when you did it but now your face was probably the color of said cherry and you wanted to hide in the corner.

Eventually though, the instance fell to the back of your mind as you let yourself have a good time. The two drink rule also fell off, now having had about four, only the first had actually been picked by you, the others from various guests that were there.

And being the people pleaser that you were, you drank them.

Louise had found her way back out to the dance floor, happy to be singing along to the songs on the speakers with you, everything was going perfect. The night was perfect. As it hit midnight, the actual day you were born, you decided to start sobering up, you didn’t want to be a mess the next morning, day off or not.

Your friend of course gave you a pout, her own self completely wasted, Jared less so, meaning he had a good eye on her as they moved throughout the place. Your only other friend was a girl from your art class, Kendall, that was as introverted as you were.

Granted her was from anxiety, yours was from needing to be good in school, which… could be labeled as anxiety as well but you refused to see it as that. “Hey, y/n! Happy birthday!” She immediately perked up at seeing you, in her Orange Blossom costume from strawberry shortcake.

“Hey! Thanks, Kendall, I love this costume. Did you hand stitch this?” Your eyes widening at the level of detail that was in the yellow and orange dress that hung on her body. Sheepishly she nodded, a tad bit embarrassed.

“I did..”

“It looks amazing, I’m truthfully jealous of your talent. I can barely fold my clothes correctly, nevermind customize them. This is insane.” You complimented thoroughly, once again taking a look at the stitched in white flowers.

Kendall grinned, “Thank you, I honestly made this a couple years ago for a party that never ended up happening so I’m very glad that you and Louise ended up making this a costume party.” She smiled, looking over your costume. “I hope I don’t sound silly but, what’s your costume meant to be?”

She’d never seen Star Wars so the question was expected. “Princess Leia, in one of the other movies.” Kendall made an ‘oh’ face as she nodded, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Wait, isn’t there someone here as Han Solo? Was that planned?” Kendall asked the cursed question, making you sigh heavily.

You shook your head, “No, that’s Lou’s boyfriend’s roommate, a pain in my ass but no, not planned. Just… small coincidence.” You slightly trailed off as you spoke. Kendall nodded, noting the way you shifted on your feet.

“Well, I’m probably going to head out. I have to be up early tomorrow. Have a good birthday y/n.” She smiled before leaving you standing there as a slow song came over the speakers. You of course moved out of everyone’s way as they split into couples, swaying to the song on the dancefloor.

Your heart practically dropped when you saw Aaron coming in your direction. Was he going to do what you thought he was going to do? God you hoped not… sort of. Part of you wanted him to, your thoughts about this man were everywhere and then some. 

All of you wanted to still dislike him but he’d weaseled in and now you had to fake your distaste to hide the fact you actually liked having him around. Liked that he was smiling as he came up to you and held his hand out.

You liked that he gently clasped his hand around yours when you took his and pulled you out with him. You liked all of it and you hated that you did. Hated that you were melting at the smell of his cologne and aftershave.

Absolutely hated that his hands just resting on your hips and your arms over his shoulders was making your head dizzy even though you were just barely swaying. The worst part? It didn’t feel awkward. Not for you at least.

No, it felt like you were supposed to be doing exactly what you were doing, no words needed. It was natural. Absentmindedly you slid your fingers through the hair just at the base of his neck, the hair framing his face a bit messy but still attractive. 

Did you just think he was attractive? God this was getting bad, even for you. To tear your eyes away from him you leaned your head against his shoulder, whether that made things better or worse was undetermined but you stayed like that the rest of the song, his thumb slightly rubbing circles into your hip as he stayed near you.

The song switched to a more upbeat one and you almost didn’t want to pull away. Almost. Instead you did, letting out a tight breath as you looked up at him. “That was nice.” You mumbled, still standing in front of him, trying to keep your eyes on his eyes, or hair, or anything that wasn’t his lips.

Something had festered in between the two of you in that moment and you felt suffocated. Like you should do something but you weren’t sure what. “It was.” He said in return, his tone the same as he tried to keep his eyes up too.

To solve both of your problems you turned heel and walked away, no goodbye just a rushed, near jog towards the door. You were panicking. Boys were not supposed to be on the table. This was one of the most important years of your life. You couldn’t waste it on a boy. Waste any time on something that wasn’t your work.

Aaron seemed to notice how tense you seemed, following behind you. If you had just disappeared into the crowd he would have left you. But running outside? Alone? He was protective, always had been. Even when you hated him.

So he jogged after you, “Y/n! Hey wait,” He caught up with you quickly. Curse his long legs and your short ones. “Please,” He gripped your elbow, stopping you in your place as you turned to him.

Correction, turned into him, your body hit his chest gently, his other hand lightly holding your side as he stabilized you, his eyes darting across yours. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice low, soft even as he spoke.

You felt like he could hear the sound of your heart picking up in your chest. You were. But you weren’t. You’d be better if you weren’t fighting every urge known to man to not lift up and kiss him. To not look at him with your y/e/c eyes until he kisses you.

And you sure as hell didn’t trust your voice right now. It could waver, stutter, multitudes of other things. So you just nodded, clearing your throat to let out a quiet, “Yeah.” In response that he didn’t believe. 

“People that are okay don’t run out of their own birthday parties.” He countered, your eyes falling shut in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. But you wished he was. You stepped back, his hands hesitantly sliding off of you, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

Aaron watched you, waiting for a sign that you were going to continue or that he should make some sort of first move. “I can’t do this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?”

“This. I can see how you’re looking at me. I can feel how much I want to do what we’re both thinking but I can’t. Not now. I need- I need to focus on school. My parents are expecting me to graduate next year. I can’t… be distracted-”

Aaron had to comment, “So you are distracted by me.” He spoke, the glare you sent him making him shut up. “Why can’t you have both? Am I really that distracting to you?” This time his voice was more genuine.

As if he couldn’t fathom that you could really think about him more than you thought about your school work. Which you didn’t and wouldn’t but in the last three-ish months he was on your mind a tad bit more than you’d like to admit.

“Yes. Yes you are and god Aaron I hate it. I hate this, you, what I’m feeling. They… they weren’t supposed to happen. They can’t.” It was like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Every part of you wanted to try, to see if you could do it.

The way he stepped forward, cupping your cheeks in both of his hands didn’t help. Neither did the way he lifted your face to meet his. “We can try.” He said softly, trying to get you on board as his thumb slid over the smooth skin of your cheek.

You slightly shook your head, his nodding in return as he leaned down, putting his forehead against yours. “If Han and Leia can have a thing amidst a war, we can in college.” He offered, a lopsided grin growing on his face.

“You know we’re not actually Han and Leia, right?” You said, an actual tone of a joke in your voice that Aaron was still getting used to hearing from you. He nodded, of course he knew. But he also knew that he wanted to kiss you anyway.

So he did. Slowly he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. Because at least if you shoved him off and decided you never wanted to see him again, at least he’d know what it felt like. What you felt like. Except that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

You immediately relaxed into his touch, your hands coming up to rest over his as your lips moved with one another's. It was like a ball of energy was forming between you that was stealing every bit of space left. 

His chest pressed against yours, his hands still on your face as your hands slid up his arms and over his shoulders. 

You stepped back with him, leaning against the brick wall of whatever building was behind you, arms locking over his shoulders. If you’d been at one or the other’s place, you were sure it would have gone further but since you were practically ten feet from a bar of all your friends, you pulled back, eyes darting across his face.

“We can’t.” You forced out, knowing it was tearing you apart to say that, knowing the way his shoulders and hands fell that you’d just tore him apart. And you hated it, but it had to be done. You couldn’t do this.

You wouldn’t.

—

Summer was supposed to be downtime. Your family loved going out to Newport and being out on the beach everyday. out on the beach everyday. Swimming. All that cool New England fun. 

You were never the type. You hated the ocean. Ironic considering the fact that Rhode Island is the ocean state but you just never had fun. 

Sand got into every small crevice of your body, the waves literally tried to drown you. Not to mention the way no matter how much sunscreen you put on, your cheeks and shoulders burnt. 

It wasn’t fun. 

But you went for your siblings. Because they liked it and you liked that they did. Your parents wouldn’t go into the water with them. Half the time they wouldn’t even acknowledge that the three of you existed. 

So you took that spot. Watching your younger sister (now 21) do her backflips while your brother (now 19) held his breath until he couldn’t. It was your own type of fun. 

Fun because you were with your family, not fun because you were at the beach. 

Your favorite part wasn’t being out. It was the aftermath. After you showered and ate and were just sitting in your living room with whatever movie was picked that day on the VCR. 

Your sister chose Casablanca and you didn’t put up any argument, knowing you’d be passed out and unconscious not even twenty minutes into the film.

Which is exactly what happened. You tucked yourself into the corner of the couch and were passed out before the clock even hit 10. There was always a sense of calm and comfort when it was the three of you.

Something that you rarely ever got when you were away. It made you kind of guilty that sometimes you thought of not coming back. Of staying down in DC and focusing on yourself rather than the lingering words and expectations of your parents.

But you couldn’t do that to them. Leave them with the lingering and watchful eyes of your mom and dad. It wouldn’t be fair. Not when you were walking in your parent’s dreams so they didn’t have to. So your sister could go off and be an author. So your brother could become a mechanic. So they didn’t have to bear the weight.

So you visited on holidays, on vacations, birthdays if you could. All of it, so your parents would have something, someone to be so overly proud of that they didn’t have to force their views anywhere else.

They had it all right there.

Even if the drive back down to the campus was 50% tears, it was worth it. Everything you did for them was worth it.

The three and a half months off of school had distracted you from everything of the last months on campus. From Aaron in general but also the way he’d kissed you. Nevermind the fact that the second you walked away from him you wanted to go back and kiss him again.

But no. This was your last year. You were focused. Or at least you planned to be. And it went well. Louise still lived in the apartment you two shared, even if she wasn’t in school anymore but she worked… a lot so she was never there. Which meant the place was yours to study and hermit in.

It made hitting the books way easier, and the fact that so far you hadn’t even caught a glimpse of Aaron Hotchner was another sign that maybe this year was going to be better. Way better. No seriously, the first four months of being back were perfect, you got near perfect scores and grades, no distractions, nothing.

Until you did see him. And everything came back. Seeing him walking across campus made you nearly drop the book in your hands. It didn’t help that your eyes followed his arm down to his hand that was clasped into that of another girl.

It shouldn’t bother you. There was nothing there. You made sure of that. That was your doing so you couldn’t be mad. Or jealous. Or anything. So you went the other way, as always avoiding any problems you might possibly end up having.

Unbeknownst to you, he saw you too, instantly feeling guilt build in his stomach at the feeling of the red head’s hand in his when he didn’t want it to be her. He wanted it to be you. But he respected you too much to push you.

Aaron was aware that he was your last priority and that he was going to have to get over it and step back. Nothing but respect for you. He also decided that he would try and stick to his own guns. 

Your words last year had stuck with him. He was passing sure but he wanted to do better. To be better so he did what you would do. Locked in, focused, but he of course wouldn’t go without talking to girls.

He couldn’t do that, to the girl he walked with that day, whose name had slipped his mind the second he saw you was his emotional distraction. Which should be good for the both of you. Hopefully.

—

It was late. Like, later than late and you couldn’t sleep. Whether it was stress. It being a Friday night meaning you were alone or what. You could not fall asleep. So you got up, pulled shoes and a sweater on before heading out.

There was practically nobody around, most students either in for the night, or downtown getting sloshed. Louise and Jared were the latter, probably with Aaron. You sighed, of course there would be a way for him to come up in your mind. And like he could read your thoughts, he practically appeared next to you.

In reality he came out of the library, his eyes immediately finding you and jogging to catch up with you. “Y/n? Why are you out so late? It’s a Friday, shouldn't you be sacrificing an animal to the law degree gods or something?”

Even with his ‘I’m going to be more serious’ mentality, he couldn’t help but relax when it came to you, the admittedly half assed joke making him grin. In turn a small one formed on your face, something you still weren’t used to.

How could he bring that look to your face when nobody else could? Louise tried but it took a lot. But with Aaron just him being him did it. “Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged, continuing on. You knew telling him to go home was no use, if it was dark and you were alone, he’d find a way to stay with you.

“Right, so, going for a walk around campus was your idea of what? Getting tired?” He questioned, chuckling when you gently elbowed him.

“Don’t make fun of my ideas, I think they’re very swell.” You countered, him humming in response. The way you two bounced off of one another was so disgustingly natural you hated it. All you had to do was look at him to feel your cheeks burn, he was already watching you.

The slight and quick eye contact made your stomach flip as Aaron nudged you, “Not poking fun, just trying to understand.” He corrected. “If you’re going to walk around, at least be somewhere cool. C’mon.” 

He held his hand out and you wanted to ignore it. Wanted to laugh in his face at the thought of walking with him hand in hand but you took it instead. His hand enveloping yours in difference as you silently walked off campus and down one of the roads that led from it.

“Where are you taking me?” Your voice soft, no malice or accusatory tone to it.

“You’ll see.” Aaron replied, lightly squeezing your hand. And for a minute you forgot this isn’t what this was supposed to be. Forgot that you had sworn yourself off of him, of boys in general. That you weren’t meant to be holding his hand and walking the streets of DC.

But he just made it so easy, he was so welcoming. So casual. Like he had no ulterior motive to anything but he was savoring the moments you’d let him have. The fact that you let him walk next to you. You let him grab your hand. You let him feel what he felt even if he knew that you weren’t going to give in.

Aaron held out hope that you would. Eventually.

The park just down the road came up only fifteen minutes later. The longest fifteen minutes of your life, trying to keep your breathing even, both from the close proximity and the walking itself.

“You alright?” He asked quietly, the two of you entering the park and walking along one of the paths that lead to the water. 

You nodded, glancing over at him, “Yeah, I’m alright,” you replied in the same tone, lingering on him before you forced your eyes away. 

There honestly should have been something in you that reminded you that he was just with that other girl a few weeks ago, but his presence now was just so strong that it didn’t even cross your mind. 

All that mattered now was his hand in yours and how he was walking perfectly in step with you regardless of the height difference. The way he had a faint smile on his face without even looking at you. 

That was all you focused on. 

“Wanna sit here?” His voice cut into your thoughts, gesturing next to a tree right on the edge of the water. There was a perfect patch of flat ground where you two could sit so you nodded, following him right into the dirt. 

Both of you faced the river, backs hunched in terrible posture but neither of you really cared. “I’m sorry I ran off.” You spoke up after a few minutes, Aaron glancing over at you. “It was… childish. You didn’t deserve that.”

His hand was still in yours, his thumb beginning to stroke over the top of yours. “It’s okay. Hurt. But it’s okay.” Aaron replied, giving you the softest brown eyed gaze you’d ever seen. 

If you weren’t already head over heels for him, this would have made all of those feelings show up magically. “I still don’t know what I want.”

“That’s okay too.”

The quickness in his response, the sense of security it gave you, it made you sigh softly, “Is it?” You muttered, pulling your hand from his in fear he’d do it first. 

Aaron went to speak but you shook your head, “I don’t like feeling like this. I don’t like… you waiting around for me to finally be ‘ready’. What if I never am?” Slight panic layering into your voice. 

“Y/n, listen to me.” He leaned forward to catch your eyes, giving a small smile, “I’ll wait for you. Always. I want to.” And that should have been enough. 

That should have made you feel better but it didn’t. Though in an attempt to avoid the rest of the conversation, you laid back in the dirt, looking up into the leaves above you. 

He mimicked you, lying just to your left in silence. It also didn’t feel weird, forced even. Still it just felt natural. His hand going back to yours felt natural. All of it did. Because why wouldn’t it…

“Why’d you choose law?” Aaron asked after a bit of silence, turning his head to you. 

A light scoff at the way it was worded was what he got in response, “Choose is a bit of a stretch.” You murmured, rolling your tongue across your cheek. “That would equate to there being a second option.” You added. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head more, “You didn’t want to come here?”

“Well, I did. But not at the same time?” Your words confusing not only him but you yourself. “I knew it’s what my parents wanted. So it became what I wanted. You know?”

Aaron nodded slightly, “In a way. I mean I’m here because it’s a family thing. But I know it’s what’s right. I wanted it.”

“A family thing?”

“Yeah, my dad was a lawyer. And my grandfather. My little brother is probably going to be too… family thing.” He sighed, looking back up. 

You slightly lifted onto your elbow, “Is that why you weren’t as serious the last couple years?” You asked, Aaron shrugging in response. 

There wasn’t really a solid reason that he was so lighthearted. It was just how he was. “I guess. But, I’m past that.”

“Yeah I can tell,” you said sarcastically, gesturing to where you two were right now. Aaron laughed fully, nodding. 

“Okay, point taken. But I’m serious, I’m focusing on school more this year, my last year and I want to just… get it done.” He explained, watching as you lifted onto your elbow to look at him. 

His eyes traveled across your face, his lips pursing as you looked down at him, “don’t look at me like that.” He muttered, eyes on yours. 

“Like what?” Your eyebrows pulled together, there wasn’t anything specific about how you were looking at him. You just … were looking. 

Aaron slightly shook his head, “Like that,” he gestured at you, “like you understand and that you get it because, it’s making it really hard to respect the fact you don’t want to kiss me again.” He sighed out softly. 

You immediately bit back a smile, laying back down, “apologies.” You said softly, inching your hand closer to his, your pinky outstretched. 

His looped around yours in response and you allowed yourself to smile this time, shivering slightly. “Are you cold?” He immediately asked, already taking the hoodie he had on, off and putting it around you before you even replied. 

“I didn’t even answer you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You looked over at him, shifting slightly closer to rest your head against his shoulder, “what if you get cold?” You muttered, hand officially slipping into his. 

“I’ll be just fine.” He replied, his head leaning against yours and you just about melted. Feeling the slight vibration of his voice as he spoke made your brain all foggy and you started to wonder if ignoring these feelings would be more distracting than just giving into them. 

But you tucked that back away for the night, the two of you ending up falling asleep right there, his hoodie the only source of warmth until he pulled you to him, your bodies making up for the lack of heat around you. 

That morning you were gone before he even woke up, the sun rising having stirred you from your sleep and shining directly on what was wrong with what you were doing out there. 

His hoodie was still over your shoulders as you practically ran back to your apartment. Truthfully you didn’t even notice until you caught sight of it in the mirror by the entrance and it made your heart pound. Now you had to see him again. 

Not that you didn’t want to. He was literally eating away at your brain. If you weren’t thinking about school, it was about him. 

If he wasn’t thinking about school, he was thinking about you. It was a very balanced experience. And you could live with it.

Until you failed a test because you were sitting two seats away from him and the smell of his cologne was wafting right to your nose. 

That was when you decided you had to do something about this. Anything. 

—

Which apparently meant actively avoiding him at every turn and step. He came out of a building, you took the long way around to go in. 

He was sitting in the back of class, suddenly you were okay with sitting in the front row. You stopped asking him to meet up at the library, not wanting to hear his voice any more than you already did. 

It worked tremendously. Eventually you could find yourself actually focusing on classes again. Your grade sailing. 

It was short lived though. 

“Y/n, someone’s here for youuu,” Louise sing-songed as she passed your bedroom door, trotting into her own to change for the night out she had ahead of her. 

You furrowed your brows, heading out to the living room and seeing Aaron standing there. You wanted to tell him to go away but something in his eyes made you stay. He didn’t look great. 

“Aaron?” You asked softly, looking over his face. As soon as you said his name his lip began to quiver, fighting off a frown. 

Immediately you stepped up to him, pulling him down into a tight hug, “hey… hey… it’s okay… I got you…” you said softly, arms over his shoulder as you kept him to you, his face burying into your neck. 

“I’m sorry for coming here I just- I didn’t know where else to go and Jared’s going out-“

“Aaron, breathe. It’s okay… what happened?” You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hand, the other rubbing across his shoulder with your thumb. 

He sucked in a breath, shaking faintly as he did, “My dad..” he muttered, unable to even phrase the truth, your heart dropping. 

“Oh Aaron…” you whispered, pulling him into another tight hug as Louise came out of her room, her eyes widening slightly at the sight in front of her. 

She silently gave you a faint smile, not interrupting as she left, her own date taking precedence over all of this. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as he let a soft sob out, tears now freely streaming down his face. All you could do was stand there, being someone that could comfort him. 

“Why don’t you come sit down?” You offered, hesitantly pulling back in case he wasn’t ready to move. 

He nodded faintly, you just now able to take in the disheveled look of him. His pajamas were wrinkled and his shirt was inside out as if he had pulled it on in a hurry to get over to you. 

And maybe he had. You didn’t mind. “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay?” You offered quietly as he sat on the couch, your hand still on his arm as you spoke. 

“You don’t have to-“

“I know exactly what you’re going through. I’m making you a damn tea.” You said more firmly, no room for argument as you turned to the kitchen. 

The fact he came here over any of his friends made little sense to you but if it made him feel better the least you could do was help him. 

In five minutes you’d made two cups of tea and brought them out. “I made a green and a chamomile. I don’t know which you want so you can choose.” You offered as you sat next to him, both mugs placed on coasters. 

Aaron grabbed the chamomile, immediately sipping it. “Thank you.” His voice stuffy from the crying he’d done, a weight pulling at your chest. 

“Of course.” You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing there wasn’t really much else you could do for him. 

He was silent and you followed suit, letting him manage how he wanted this all to go. “Can I ask you something?”

You nod. 

“You said you know what I’m going through,” he started, seeing you nod, “but Jared said you go up to your parents house in Rhode Island for vacation?” 

You sipped the other tea, “Yeah, they’re uh, my adoptive parents. They adopted me when I was 15.” You clarified, Aaron nodding faintly in response. 

“Oh.” He paused, “Sorry if that was-“

“Don’t you dare apologize right now, really,” your voice gentle. “I get it.” He faintly shifted, putting the mug back down as he looked at you. 

“Sorry, I mean- okay..” he stuttered slightly, a chuckle coming from you. 

“You should stay.” You suddenly said, the thought coming to your mind and immediately being said, no filter between the instances. 

Aaron looked over quickly, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He sighed out, his eyes red around the brim, your heart aching at the sight.

“You didn’t ask. I offered. And I mean it. Stay. Plus I’m pretty sure Louise and Jared are going to go back to your place so really, you’re better off here anyway.” The small smile you gave him was all it took for him to agree, glancing around at the couch.

It wasn’t that outlandish of an offer, your parents had raised you to be caring and empathetic, meaning you instantly turned down the fact he thought you’d make him sleep out on the couch. “You can take my bed, I probably won’t sleep anyway. Studying and all that.” You shrugged as if the offer came as second nature.

Not that that was that far off of a statement.

“I’m not taking your bed.” Aaron muttered, you looking up at him. It felt like you were suffocating, the way your eyes met and all the feelings, emotions tight between you two.

“Fine. We’ll share then.” Knowing you weren’t kicking him out at all. Not when your instinct right now was to pull him into a tight hug and hold him there forever. Not when you wanted to card your fingers through his hair and whisper that things would be okay.

That it would hurt for a while but eventually you’d feel better. All the things you wanted to do to help the man next to you, took precedence over everything in that moment. And that was scary. But you ignored the fear and took his hand in yours.

Aaron smiled weakly, locking his fingers into yours as you stood, “Come on.” You spoke so softly, like some sort of angel singing down to him. He’d follow anything you said to him then. Anything at all. Which was a bit terrifying but you simply led him to your room, motioning to the bed.

“Get comfortable, I’m gonna put some pajamas on.” You gave him a light smile before grabbing said clothes and heading into the bathroom to change and coming out not even ten minutes later to Aaron still sitting at the end of your bed.

You slightly raised your eyebrows, looking at him, “I couldn’t lay down. Don’t make fun of me.” He said quietly, you taking the spot just to his right, one leg tucked up under you as you reached your hand out.

“Can you now?” You asked softly.

“Yes.” Aaron looked over you, in shock still that you were this open to him, that you had offered not only your apartment but your bed to him. 

You nodded faintly, shifting to the top of the bed, pushing the blanket down and officially inviting him to the comfort of your mattress. It smelled like you, the entire room did. Strawberries and vanilla, the scent you’ve favored since middle school lingered on every surface and Aaron loved it.

He laid next to you, keeping space, still not knowing exactly what was allowed and what wasn’t. Was this a sign you guys were in the clear? Was it just a formality? He had no idea, so for the first time he let you lead things.

As if you could tell that was what he was waiting for, you rolled to face him, thinking over your next actions. Without much extra thought, you grabbed his hand, pulling his arm up and around your shoulder to keep him closer, your other arm slinking over his waist.

“Is this okay?” You asked quietly, Aaron nodding almost instantly, “Cause if you want to lay differently…” You trailed off as he looked down at you, only shifting to lean his forehead against the top of your head.

“This, is perfect.” He let out a sigh, his mind racing. Everything from the news of his father’s death to the way you’d finally let him in. It was a double edged sword that this is what it took. That the loss was what got him here.

The next morning was completely different to the last time you’d woken next to him. Last time you took off before the sun even cleared the sky, this time, you shifted slightly to look up at the man next to you. 

The window in your room let a decent amount of sunlight in, the curtain covering it parting in just a way that a streak of sunlight hit right over his face. 

He was gorgeous. If that was even a word you’d like to use for him. Regardless it’s exactly what you thought of him. Aaron Hotchner was beautiful and you were tired of acting like he wasn’t. 

As if he could feel your stare, he stirred, stretching his legs as he blinked himself awake. There was still a layer of sleep in his eyes as he glanced down at you, no attempt to look away being made by you. 

“Morning…” you said softly, twisting a small bit of his shirt between your thumb and index finger. 

“Morning,” his voice even more attractive as he woke up, immediately making your face heat up at the thoughts that darted across your mind. 

You lifted onto your elbow, looking down at him, “How’d you sleep?” You asked softly, moving your hand off of him as you did. 

Aaron hummed, letting out a breath, “Better than I expected.” He said, grabbing your hand in his, wanting some form of physical connection between the two of you. 

“Good, that’s good.” You said quietly, eyes trailing down your arm to where your hands were connected. “We should probably get up?”

“I’m not ready to.” Aaron said so freely, the fact he didn’t even try to hide how he was feeling made you almost giddy. 

A smile came to your face, one you didn’t bother smothering. “That’s okay, right here is good too.” You replied, pulling your lip between your teeth sheepishly. 

Being near him made your brain go haywire and you hated it so damn much. 

But you were okay with getting used to it. 

“Aaron?” You asked softly, still leaning up, over him slightly. He practically read your mind, using the clasped hands to pull you down, lifting his chin to catch your lips on his.

You couldn’t even be surprised, the look on his face before gave his intentions away as you let him pull you close, his other hand cupping the side of your face. 

His finger slid into your hair, holding you closer than you ever had before. 

Maybe it wasn’t the right time to do this. But he would rather be kissing you than thinking about his home life, so he acted on it. 

Moving his lips with yours until you wanted to stop. Which you didn’t. So he shifted up, rolling the two of you over so he was hovering over you, pulling away slightly. 

You blinked a couple times, letting out a slightly shaky breath, “is this really a good time to do all of… this?” You asked, wanting to do nothing less than all of it. 

“The perfect time actually,” he murmured before kissing you again, deeper than before.

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