#Olitz fanfic readers

[mrs-kmikaelson]

01| The Grey Area

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. Warnings: emotional and physical cheating, forbidden love affair, reader is in government, cm level violence, r is a bitch at first, hotch is a jerk, based on olivia pope and fitzgerald grant Words: 3.8K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: is this based on scandal by shonda rhimes? yes. why? bc that was peak television. making this a series bc i need to learn how to make things other than long fics (be proud of me).

1989

For as long as you could remember, life was slow. Everything was black and white: your surroundings, your activities, your beliefs. 

And then you met Aaron Hotchner, and you started seeing things in colour.

"I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

You barely looked up at the person, just shaking your head and continuing to twirl your pen on your desk. He sat down right after.

You didn't expect him to talk to you. In fact, you were sure your disinterest was written all over your face in bold red letters. 

"I'm Aaron. Aaron Hotchner." He held his hand out; you only saw it because he held it over your desk, not because you actually looked in his direction. 

You stared at his hand plainly before looking up to the front of the class where the professor had just stood up. "And I'm not interested," you said. Presumptuous of you, maybe, but this was Georgetown, and it was your second year. Everybody was competition, and nobody actually wanted to be your friend unless they were looking for something a little more.

It was like you could hear his frown. "I— we can't be friends?" 

Finally, out of just pure exasperation, you looked at him, and boy were you taken aback. Aaron Hotchner, as he so formally introduced himself, had dark, dark brown hair, almost black, and a jawline that wasn't too sharp nor too round. His brown eyes looked at you expectantly, confusion swimming through them. Briefly, you thought he was perfect, but that wouldn't change your stance.

Despite your short-lived awe, you deadpanned, "No, we can't."

Aaron went to open his mouth, but then the professor started speaking and it cut him right off. You looked toward the front and didn't back at him once, listening intently. You were determined to succeed above all things, and no boy would get in the way of that.

Your first lecture of the semester went fine after that. You packed up your things at the end and you were gone before Aaron could try again. You went to one more class then got ready for work without another thought of him.

During nights, you were a bartender at this place near the campus. It wasn't just college kids; it was also frequented by businessmen and other big spenders who tipped well so long as you smiled and laughed at their jokes.

The excessive flirting wasn't ideal, but the job paid the bills, and since you were doing this all by yourself, that was exactly what you needed.

You rarely saw people you knew. There were regulars, and every once in a while you might've seen a kid from one of your classes, but it wasn't something you expected often.

You certainly didn't expect to see the hot guy from Advanced Legal Research.

"Hi there, what can I getcha?" You weren't looking at the customer, busy cleaning a glass and simultaneously passing someone their drink while you spoke to them.

"Hey, you're the girl from my LAW-J 301 course"

You paused at the person's voice, both at their enthusiasm and familiarity, and looked up. When you did, you couldn't help the groan that left you. "Seriously? You, again?" Each word was enunciated slowly, accurately demonstrating your annoyance. However, you got back to what you were doing, taking your eyes off him. "What, are you stalking me, Hopscotch?"

"It's Hotchner."

This time, your sigh was accompanied by a pointed eye roll. "Duuuude." You looked back up. "I do not care. Now, what do you want?"

He snorted. "Do you talk to all your customers this way?"

You flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Just the ones that can't take a hint." He opened his mouth for a sharp rebuttal no doubt, but you redirected the conversation. "Your order, Hopscotch. Or else you're gonna have to kick rocks."

He acquiesced like it was such a hardship you were asking of him, like you weren't in a bar that he came to specifically to order a drink. "Fine. Whiskey, neat."

That, you could help him with. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured some into a glass for him, all the while making conversation. He wasn't special; you did this with every customer. "What are you doing here?" When you got no response, you glanced back up to see a confused expression on his face. You elaborated, "Doesn't seem like your scene." You would've said no offense, but who were you kidding? You were already abrasive to begin with.

But he didn't look offended. If anything, he looked curious. "How so?"

You slid his drink across the counter, cocking your head at him as if telling him it was stupid to even ask. "You introduced yourself with your first and last name, extended your hand for me to shake, then just now, you referred to our class with the course code." You raised a brow then. "A little formal, don't you think?"

Now he looked a little offended. "Formal? I don't think so. I'm a little old fashioned at most."

For the second time that day, you deadpanned. "You're at the bar in a suit and tie. You couldn't have made it any more obvious that you don't do this often."

He got a little red then. You think that, if he could've, he would've loosened his tie, but he just picked up his drink, taking a swig. You'd give him a little credit, though; at least he looked like he could take his liquor. "Fine," he admitted, "my friends dragged me out."

"Ah," you chuckled, "common occurrence here at GWU. You'll get used to it soon, freshie."

He furrowed his brows. "How'd you know I was a first-year?"

You grinned. "You just told me, Hopscotch."

He groaned, making you stifle a laugh. No, you wouldn't laugh at him; that'd make it seem like his presence was growing on you when it wasn't. 

You didn't need new friends, and you certainly didn't need suit-and-tie-wearing, formal Aaron Hotchner.

But he stayed there. He stayed there and talked you as you served other customers, asking you to refill his drink every now and then. You wondered where his friends were, but by the time closing came 'round, you assumed they were long gone.

He talked to you all night, you realized. 

And you didn't totally hate it.

Aaron visited you at work the next day, too. That's when you told him your name. Then you started talking to him in class. Then, before you knew it, you exchanged numbers and he was visiting you at work nearly every day.

But you were right in your earlier reservations. You and Aaron Hotchner couldn't be friends.

You just learned that too late.

2005

"Tallie, tell Gretchen that I need the files on Henderson's case by the end of the day, please."

You walked with your assistant at your side, heels clicking against the floor as you went through all the day's administrative business. Every day, Tallie went over your schedule with you as soon as you entered the building. Time was of the essence in your job, and you had none of it to waste.

"Yes, ma'am, and— if I may—"

"Oh, and contact the President's Chief of Staff. I need to meet with him by the end of the day to discuss the recent terrorist attack in London again. We need to communicate with the British government without overstepping."

"Done, and—"

"And could you please get Rob Burton on the line for me?" You turned down the hall that led to your office. "He said he has an inquiry for me."

"Well, ma'am, um—" You had just reached your office when Tallie stopped, sighing. You looked back at her, raising a brow. Sheepishly, she pointed ahead of you. "There's that."

Your brows knitted together. You turned, following her gaze to see a dark-haired man standing in your waiting room, eyes on his watch. As if he felt your presence, he looked up, and as soon as your eyes locked, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Tallie cut off your thought process. "I kept telling him he didn't have an appointment, but he said you knew him and would let him in, that it's urgent."

You let out a sigh of your own, muttering under your breath, "Somehow, I don't doubt that." It had to be urgent if Aaron Hotchner was at your office. You glanced back at Tallie, giving her a tense smile. "Thank you, Tallie. We'll raincheck that phone call with Mr. Burton?"

She nodded, giving a "Yes, ma'am," before she walked past the man in your waiting room to her desk.

Like old times, you couldn't hold back another sigh, but you got your exasperation under control before you walked up to him, if not just to be professional and keep up appearances.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, a faux smile on your face. "It's... nice to see you." It was like the words stung coming out of your mouth, and that was because they weren't true. If he was half as good of a profiler as you thought he was, then he'd know that.

If he knew you as well as he thought he did, then he should've known that regardless.

You didn't bother waiting for his greeting; you didn't care for it. "Let's talk in my office." Not a question.

He complied, following you into your office and shutting the door on the way in. With your back still turned to him, you momentarily closed your eyes, willing yourself to have the strength to sit through whatever it was he had to tell you.

When you had it, you turned back around, dropping all the pleasantries now that you were away from prying eyes. "What is it that's so important you couldn't say over the phone?"

He didn't answer. Deep down, you both knew it was because he could've. He didn't need to be here, but instead of agreeing with you, he nodded to the two chairs in front of your desk. "You're not going to offer me a seat?"

You scoffed. "If I did, would you take it?" You're met with silence, another answer in and of itself. It'd been six years, yet you could still read Hotch's tells like a children's book. He didn't like to say anything when he knew you were right.

You took that moment to examine him. He looked the same, just as you left him. Maybe a bit more worn, a bit more tired, and a bit more cold, but weren't you all?

Briefly, you wondered what he was thinking about you.

He got to the point, as he always did. "I have a suspect for the murders of 12 women in D.C. spanning over the past six months," he told you. "His name is Eric Clark. He's the founder and CEO of a new tech start-up here; they're calling him the new Zuckerberg." The sarcasm in his voice when he said that last bit was evident, shining through his monotonous persona.

You were aware of the murders he spoke of, and you were aware of who Eric Clark was. He was invited to some state dinner you just went to. But you didn't say this. Instead, you shrugged like it didn't matter to you and asked him, "So why are you telling me?"

If your nonchalance bothered him, he didn't voice it. He simply explained, "I need a warrant." A warrant, he said, like that sentence stood alone. What he was realling saying was, he needed a warrant, and he needed you to get it for him. More than that, he expected you to get it for him.

That forced a chuckle out of you, even though you didn't feel any humour at all. So that was why he was here; six years go by without any contact, but now that he needed something, here he was. 

You felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Hotch needing something and claiming that you were the only one who could give it to him.

"You need a warrant," you echoed, splaying your hands out in front of you. "So go take that up with a judge."

You saw a sudden crack in his calm composure. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, so slightly you wouldn't have noticed it if you didn't know what to look for.

But you knew what to look for.

"Come on, Y/N." He said your name like you were just old friends, like this stop by your office was a normal occurence. "Everyone knows you have pull in this city."

You did have pull in this city. In fact, you had pull in just about every city in America; being the U.S. Attorney General gave you that kind of power.

So yes, you had pull, and now Hotch wanted you to pull some strings for him as if you owed him a favour, as if you owed him anything.

You didn't say this, but you were sure that your next words said enough for you. "Where's Gideon? Normally, he's the one to come knocking on my door when the BAU needs something." You found it highly unlikely that he'd ever send Hotch, of all people, on his behalf.

Hotch pursed his lips. "He's on leave."

You made a clicking sound of realization, but it was more mocking than anything since you already gathered as much. That meant he was unit chief now, and that was why he was here. So that's what it took? you thought. All it took was a promotion, obligation, and now he was here.

He was here, checking his watch in your waiting room, marching into your office and shutting the door, clenching his jaw and pursing his lips like he was the one with the right to be mad. 

You'd give it to him: Aaron Hotchner sure as hell had guts.

You circled back to the original topic. "Yeah, Hotch, that's not happening." He went to cut you off, but you stopped him by raising a hand. Your were firm as you asserted, "If you're here with me instead of with a judge, that means you have insubstantial evidence. So how about, instead of ambushing me and wasting my precious time, you go back to the drawing board?" It wasn't a suggestion as much as it was an insult.

His jaw tensed, his eyes hardening as he stared at you. "I am sorry to waste your precious time, but precious lives are at stake." Condescending as ever.

"I undersand that, but you clearly have no probable cause." Or did you forget what that was? you wanted to add, but you kept that part to yourself.

You thought, if he clenched his jaw any harder, it just might break. "I have a profile—"

"Which clearly isn't enough—"

"You of all people should understand the importance of a profile, Y/N."

You took a sharp breath through your nose. It was low of him to say that, and it was also such a profiler of him to say it, mostly because he knew it'd get you.

You weren't always the Attorney General.

Perhaps this is why you agreed. "Fine. I'll go talk to a judge for you."

He sighed, "Thank you." He said it without looking at you, then he was opening your door and walking out, and you nearly thanked him for it.

Six years had gone by.

Yet you wouldn't have been able to tell with the way your heart was racing.

You went on with your day after Hotch left, going through paperwork and dropping by the White House. You had a meeting with the President that day, the President of the United States, the most important person in the whole damn country. That was little old you that did that.

You weren't the same girl he remembered, not that girl from Georgetown who rolled her eyes at every one of his corny jokes, and he wasn't the same guy who'd sit and wait for you the by the bar, either. He was the unit chief now. And you were the Attorney General.

Things were different now. 

Or maybe they weren't.

Because Aaron Hotchner came striding into your office just later that night.

Your door flew open, Aaron walking in thereafter with a stone cold frown and determination etched onto his face. It wasn't like the Aaron you knew to frown so much, but that wasn't what you were focused on.

You immediately shot up from your chair and rounded your desk, baffled by his behaviour. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're—"

You didn't get to finish your sentence. Before you could berate him, Aaron's hand was on the back of your head and his lips were slamming into yours. Slamming was the right word. This was fervent, almost violent, like he wanted to bruise you, like he wanted to permanently mold his lips into yours.

Your eyes went wide. You should've pushed him away—you really should have. But it was like you weren't thinking. Like you were on auto-pilot, your hands automatically went to his hair, your lips moving in unison with his.

This was muscle memory. God, how could you have ever forgotten what this felt like? Like ecstasy, and butterflies, and all good things in the world. Kissing him felt like everything all at once.

But everything meant that it came with all the bad in the world, too.

Your senses came back to you as you pushed him away, stumbling backward. You were sure you would've fallen, had your desk not been right behind you. You were heaving, and he was no different.

Fuck. What did you just do?

Your eyes darted to the door, alarm flashing through them. "Tallie—"

He finished your thought, assuring you, "She's gone. I sent her home."

Relief flooded your body. She wasn't here, she didn't see anything. That was good. But then what he said actually hit you. Your eyes narrowed into slits. "You did what?" He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort, but you kept going. "You sent my assistant home?"

"Yes."

You scoffed. He sent your assistant home, and he was just admitting it proudly like it was nothing. Maybe nothing was different after all if Aaron was still here, barging into your life like he owned it, like he owned you.

And perhaps he did.

"You can't— you can't just—"

"I can't what?" he cut you off then took a step closer. "I can't come see you?" Another step. "We used to see each other all the time."

You were already cornered, right against your desk. "That was before," you responded. "Before—" the rest of your sentence got caught in your throat. You had glanced down momentarily, catching sight of his hand in the process. There, something glinted in the light. A golden band.

A wedding ring.

Your chest tightened, your voice getting smaller. "Before that." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it was impossible not to notice the crack in your voice.

You didn't know how you didn't feel the ring when he had his hand on your head.

Confused, Aaron followed your line of sight, right down to his hand. When he realized what you were referring to, he sighed, "Y/N, it's not what you think—"

A humourless chuckle left you. "It never is, is it?" You could count the number of times he'd said that to you. "God, I can't believe it." You chuckled again before your laugh faded into something angrier. No, not angrier. You were furious.

You didn't know if there was even a word in the English language that could describe how furious you were.

"You—" you took a deep breath, stopping yourself from yelling. "You're doing this to me— again?"

"Y/N—"

You slapped his hands away when he tried to put his hands on your arms. You didn't want to feel that fucking ring touch your skin. "Again?!" you seethed. "What, two times wasn't fucking enough for you? You had to go and do this a third time—"

"Please, just—"

You refused to let him get a word out. "No! I don't need any more of your excuses, Hotch!" Lord knew that if you heard them, you might just believe them.

You nearly did the first time.

To think that he had just been in your office hours earlier, acting like he didn't know you, like he didn't break you down just to build you back up and do it all over again. 

He could've at least given you the courtesy of leaving you alone, but it appeared that he couldn't even do that. Still, he was defending himself, false conviction lacing through his voice. "Haley and I are separated—"

"Separated?" That forced another chuckle out of you. "Sure, and I'm the Pope."

His glare at you hardened, like he was mad at you "I'm being serious."

Another laugh. He couldn't figure out why the hell you were laughing.

"Haley, haley, haley." Your voice raised. "It's always about fucking Haley." Even when he was with you.

Especially when he was with you.

His jaw locked. "We're not together right now."

You snapped, "Tell that to the fucking ring on your finger, asshole." 

It was laughable, really. You were the Attorney General of the United States of America. You sat in one of the highest offices of the land. Yet Aaron Hotchner still had the ability to turn you into putty in his hands.

The Attorney General didn't play second fiddle to anyone.

But you'd always be second to Haley Brooks.

"Get out, Hotchner." 

"What?" He had the audacity to look hurt, confused. You didn't understand what there was to be confused about. 

You managed to wriggle yourself out of the space where you were stuck between him and your desk, walking to your door and nearly yanking it open, holding it for him wordlessly.

He scoffed. "Y/N, come on—"

You shut him down. "No. I did what you asked earlier. I got you your warrant, therefore we are done. Now get out."

You didn't meet his eyes but you felt them burning into you with the same heat that'd make an unsub crack. It was the same heat that'd make you crack, too, which was precisely why you refused to look at him.

After what felt like a lifetime of staring at you, his footsteps sounded. You didn't look up until you watched his shoes pass you. Immediately, you closed the door, locking it.

Your hand fell around the door handle, your forehead resting against the door. Briefly, you wondered what the sensation in your eyes was, until you realized it was tears.

You hadn't cried in so long.

But whenever Aaron Hotchner came around, tears seemed inevitable.

taglist: @c-losur3

[douxbebearchives]

If you’re new to Olitz fanfiction, read these stories!

- NOTES -

• Mentioned fics were recommended by readers who follow our blog and social media account.

• This list ranges from current/WIPs to completed. Some have been removed and we don’t have access to old files.

• Please read summaries before starting; plots, tropes, and ratings will vary.

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• And of course, make sure to leave a review/comment/love to these authors. They put in so much time to create and world build. Even if the story isn't finished, they deserve respect and encouragement. So leave that note.

-

A Semester Away (removed by author)

A Winning Season

Arranged Love

Be My Downfall

Blurred Lines

Desire (2015)

Desire (2022)

Duplicity

Duty Calls

Epiphany

Executive Orders

Feel Again

Fighting Hearts

First Do No Harm

Forbidden (removed by author)

Governor Grant

If Only You Knew

Knights Ferry

Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous

Love Beyond The Scars

My Father’s Best Friend (removed by author)

No Escaping Him (removed by author)

On Stage

One Night Only

SECRETS

Some Other Me

Something good can work

Taken

Thank you Dr. Pope

The Agreement

The Chemistry Test (removed by author)

The Distillery

The Game Chose Me

The Game Plan

The Right Kind of Madness

Unexpected Circunstance

Vision

Weekend Fiancée

Welcome to Las Vegas

Whatever We Want

Enjoy!

[scandalmistress]

All Olitz Fics on Hiatus - Stepping away from writing...

My Dear Readers…

It’s with a heavy heart I write this author’s note to my faithful followers – writers and readers alike. Since the airing of 5.09 I have been struggling whether to keep writing my stories. At times I have almost given in, thrown in the towel, and stop. Yes that episode made me wonder why I kept writing but I stuck with it.

My dearest friend and fellow writer gave me a great pick me up speech, reminding me that my type of writing, the romance, slow-burn, Hallmark movie style, so distinctive of me was needed to keep Olitz alive and well. I have a certain style, with many readers who love it and are drawn to it. I write them the only way I see fit.

I felt it was my job as a loyal fan of Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant, to give them happy, fluffy stories seeing it did not happen on screen. I stayed away from B613, Jake, Mellie and any of the other bull shit portrayed on TV. I wrote Olitz with problems but not ones that couldn’t be overcome with talking, trust and love.

The fandom at a large has also changed a great deal since I started writing a year after Scandal began. We were vocal, and supportive group, willing to help one another and not attack another’s opinion.

I was hesitant to join twitter but doing so was one of the best choices I ever made. Through twitter and my writing I’ve not only met some of the truest and nicest souls I’ve ever met but made friends who would ride and die for me.

Not only that…you became my family.

My Scandal sisters. The sisters I always wanted but didn’t realize how much I truly needed. I grew up not having sisters. Thanks to Scandal, Olitz and Tony Goldwyn I have them now.

This is what makes this decision even more difficult.

I have been wrestling with the decision to stop writing Olitz or keep going for a long time. I am finally going to stop, put all my fics, entire fanfic profile on hiatus. This is not easy choice but it’s the right one for me. Before anyone jumps to any conclusions, no one has attacked me, belittled my writing style, lack of updates, or been mean (even though that has happened more times than I care to admit.)

This decision to stop writing Olitz is not due to some guest reviewer whose words hurt my feelings, readers bugging for updates, or a troll who believes I have no clue what I’m doing. I’m making this choice stepping back, giving myself a needed break, in the hopes the joy I once felt writing Olivia and Fitz will return.

Like I wrote above, I’ve been struggling whether to stop since 5.09. I pushed through it before, continuing to write and update regularly. When I wrote, I felt the butterflies. Now I open a fic and my heart is heavy, uncertain, in the dark. I do not make this decision lightly knowing how many of you will probably be hurt, upset, and a little ticked off.

If you are I am sorry but I have to think of me and what’s best. The joy I felt…is just not there any longer. As I write this good-bye letter, I fight the tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

My choice to stop writing has nothing to do with the show going off the air, Tony finishing Network, or a slew of other reasons – if my heart is no longer in it, then I cannot write. This feeling is beyond writer’s block. I open my laptop to either finish a chapter I started or begin a new one and I just can’t do anything. I sigh, get frustrated, and close the computer. If I force myself to write, the update will be crap and I cannot in good conscience put something out I am not pleased with.

It’s not me.

Who I am, or want to be remembered for.

Now before anyone questions whether my stories will remain on the fanfic site, THEY WILL. My profile will not be deleted. If I make that choice, I’ll be sure to warn you all ahead of time. I know how many of you love my version of Olitz so they will stay up as long as fans want to read them. I will also still be on social media (tumblr and twitter) as @ScandalMistress.

Also I do realize I have one final chapter of #CoveredBridges to post. I will do my best to finish the story over the summer but I can’t promise anything. Summer break will be busy because my Little Gladiators will be keeping me busy and wearing me out.

And if I make the decision to start writing again, it will be only one fic until it’s completed. I do not want to leave any of my fics unfinished but as of right now I have no choice. I hope my heart leads me back to Fitzgerald Grant and Olivia Pope but as of right now, it’s a no. I cannot nor will not make a promise to return because it will be unfair to you and myself.

I will always love Tony Goldwyn for bringing a fictional character to the screen that changed my life forever. He gave so much of himself to play Fitz. If it was not for him, I would not have started writing to begin with. He is my inspiration, and an incredible man. I am so fortunate to have met him and seen him in Network.

I’d still like to hear from you and truly hope you can forgive me for placing Olitz on the shelf. It’s just something I have to do, and what is best. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

But like someone very wise once said, “in every ending, there is a new beginning.”

Peace, Love and of course lots of pumpkin spice….

Da Prince’s and Me’s - @ScandalMistress

@douxbebearchives 

[eaudrey35]

This has been on my mind since I read some of the most negative reviews direct at the fanfic writer of Olitz Home. U can disagree with the direction of a fanfic but to get negative and down right disrespectful is not warrant r called for and just plain ignorant. Yes these fanfics my take twist and turns we don't like but we have to have faith n the fanfic writer to write their story and do the characters Justice. The negative and unwarranted comments just my me feel a type of way and I as a fanfic reader felt the need to address

[mrs-kmikaelson]

02| four-letter words

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. Warnings: sexual harassment, miscommunication, complicated relationships, emotional and physical cheating (not in this part technically), references to abuse, based on olivia pope and fitzgerald grant Words: 5.1K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 3

a/n: long-awaited, but here's part 2. the next part is coming soon, and it'll be the last part of aaron and r in college! it'll shed more light on their relationship in '05 compared to '89 and '90.

JULY 1990

You were going on your third year at Georgetown soon, then you'd be graduating.

It was exciting, invigorating. This was everything you'd worked for finally coming together. your dreams coming true. The last decade of your life had been spent trying to get exactly where you were. No drinking, no drugs, no downtime—no distractions.

You didn't come from money—but you didn't tell people that, of course. Everyone just made their own assumptions. Georgetown Law was an expensive school, saved for people who could afford it. So you worked your ass off, garnering scholarship money and planning your life out to a tee.

It's why, every second that wasn't spent studying, you were working at the bar. The only reason you weren't working during the day was because you were interning at a professor's practice.

Everything was counting on this next year for you, just as it was for everybody, but the stakes were higher for someone like you specifically.

Aaron didn't know that.

He went to boarding school when he was younger. Based on the way he'd tense when it was brought up, you knew his childhood wasn't the best, but you also knew that Aaron Hotchner likely never had to wonder if there would be food on the table, if the roof over his head would suddenly disappear.

He didn't have to wonder if his future would even be possible. So it just wasn't something you talked about, even though you shared everything with each other.

Almost everything.

"Slow down, Hopscotch! Not all of us are blessed with long legs."

Your chiding was met with a laugh, and even though you were meant to be scolding him, the sound didn't fail to bring a smile to your face. You were growing to really like that sound, even though it got on your nerves at first.

You might've even loved that sound.

Aaron turned around then, nearly making you bump into him. "Hey—!" You cut yourself off with a squeal when his arms swooped under you, effortlessly picking you up by your thighs and then throwing you over his shoulder like it was nothing. Your eyes widened. "Aaron— Aaron!"

You felt him shrug. "You were complaining. So I took care of the problem for you."

Your mouth opened and closed like you were a fish, stammering in shock. He was still walking full stride through the hallway, like you weren't even there. He just picked you up, for God's sake. In the entire time you'd known him, he'd never done anything of the sort.

You were a little startled.

"Hopscotch, put me down right. now." Your pleas fell upon deaf ears as he just continued to move forward. "Your neighbours might see!"

He snorted. "So? We're literally almost there."

Again, you were just sputtering in shock. He was right, though—you arrived at his apartment in no less than thirty seconds, and he was reaching into his pocket for the keys soon after. This reminded you of the matching key in your own pocket, the one he gave you after just a couple months knowing each other. In case you ever need it, he'd said, or if you just wanna drop by.

That took you off guard at first, but you learned that Aaron was always direct, never one to beat around the bush. He wanted your friendship badly, and after watching him work for it tirelessly, who were you to deny him?

It wasn't like you had many friends in the first place. Perhaps that's why it always surprised you when he did things like this, things like giving you a key to his place or throwing you over his shoulder, insisting he drive you home after your shift, buying you the exact bag he'd seen you wordlessly eyeing in the mall for your birthday—an expensive one, at that, a little too expensive for a law student.

Was it surprising because you weren't used to it or was it surprising because it was him doing it? You didn't know, and you weren't sure if you wanted to.

This, this right here, was a good friendship. You knew that as Aaron set you down and gave a kiss to your head, giving you feelings you shouldn't have had. He doesn't mean it like that, you told yourself, assuring yourself that he didn't think much of the things he did.

He couldn't. He was your best friend, your only friend.

And that's all there was to it.

You and Aaron spent that summer together, attached at the hip. It felt good to have a friend, to let loose every once in a while and breathe. He reminded you to breathe.

You didn't know how you could've possibly passed this up before, how the old you could've just ignored him. It was luck that he ended up at the place you bartended for. It was luck that you met him. Luck, and maybe another four-letter word.

You didn't believe in Fate. It felt wrong to believe in something that took credit for everything you did. It wasn't Fate that got you into one of the most prestigious law schools in the country; it was you.

But what else could you call this? What else could you call a man being thrusted into your life, relentlessly trying to be your friend even as you gave him every reason not to? 

You didn't know. All you knew was that, if Fate existed, you'd have to thank her. You were starting to believe in it all.

Fate, luck, and other four-letter words.

"I'm really gonna miss you when you're gone, Y/N."

You barely stopped yourself from whipping your head around. At first, you were startled by the noise itself, thinking he was asleep, but then you were startled by the words themselves.

It was 3 or maybe 4AM. You got off your shift at the bar a little early and went to Aaron's for a movie, but he tapped out halfway through. You were just starting to clean up when he spoke. You almost didn't hear it; his voice was just above a whisper. 

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say. He didn't say things like that—that wasn't what the two of you did. You didn't talk about your feelings; neither of you did.

All the things Aaron had ever said to you ran through your head at that moment, all the times he might've toed the line but never crossed it. In all that memory, you couldn't find anything like this.

But this was something friends said, right? To show each other they cared? This wasn't out of line; this was just him being a good friend.

As you stared at him and the glazed over look in his eye, that's what you told yourself. That this was normal, that he was a great friend— your friend.

But he wasn't looking at you like you were a friend.

You got over the little shock you had, throwing him the best tired smile you could muster. "I'm not gonna be that far. I plan on staying in D.C. when I graduate, so you don't need to worry." You didn't say that you'd miss him, too. But he knew. He always knew.

Looking back, you wonder if he knew everything else you weren't saying.

"I know." There was a beat, but he didn't look away from you; you couldn't tell if you hated that or loved it. When his voice returned, it was just as soft. "It's just going to be different."

Another beat passed, the whirring of the AC being the only sound audible as you stared at each other. Then, tenatively, you grabbed his hand, engulfing it yours. You didn't know why you did it—you just did.

You squeezed it, not allowing yourself to break eye contact once. Because you hoped he could see the other words in your eyes that you didn't know how to say. You hoped he could feel them as your hands melded together. 

It's going to be okay, you said. You think he understood, because he squeezed right back.

It was gonna be okay. The sentence spanned through your mind, along with another. You don't know if he caught the other one; you weren't sure if you even did.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.

And other four-letter words you didn't have the power to say.

Life moved on as if that day in Aaron's living room never happened, and in your eyes, it was best that way. You weren't good with feelings; they'd never gotten you anywhere. Even if you were starting to feel something, despite all your best intentions and every time you told yourself otherwise. 

You told yourself you were wrong, that whatever you were feeling only felt weird because it was unfamiliar. Friends weren't something you had a lot of—you just didn't know how to handle it, that was all. And however Aaron was looking at you—however you thought he was looking at you—was nothing more than a trick of light.

His eyes just look different in the dark, you convinced yourself. That wasn't entirely wrong.

But it wasn't entirely right, either.

The club was dark, much darker than the bar you worked at, but the strobe lights compensated for it. The lights danced around the room much like the patrons, randomly and without care. You paid mind to neither as you maneuvered across the floor, heading straight for the bar.

Aaron was back at your booth. Your booth. You snorted to yourself at the thought.

Of course, they had a booth. 

It was his friend's birthday, and for some reason, Aaron wanted you there. You couldn't fathom why he'd even agree to attend if he wasn't comfortable with them, but there were many things about his behaviour that you didn't understand.

You understood his discomfort, though. After spending just thirty minutes with them, you were eager to find any opportunity to leave. They were dumb jocks, not entirely dumb—this was Georgetown, after all—but they were nothing like the crowd you thought Aaron would hang around. You wondered how they even became acquainted in the first place, but then again, you weren't exactly someone he'd typically be friends with either.

Where'd you find this broad, Aaron? they asked.How'd you get her? they asked. She looks out of your league, they said. Sweetheart, what are you doing with him? they asked.

We're just friends, he responded. Every single time. It was the appropriate response, the Aaron Hotchner response, but there was an edge to his voice as the words left his mouth, an edge much sharper than the roundness he normally spoke to you with. 

You didn't understand that, either.

As soon as the opportunity arose, you volunteered yourself to get the next round of drinks. You missed the look Aaron sent you as you left.

At the bar, you waved the bartender down. "Could I get six beers, please? For table 18?" The guy didn't acknowledge you with anything more than a nod, but that was enough for you.

"Nothing for yourself?" The voice, unexpectedly close, startled you.

You jolted, spinning to see Aaron's friend standing behind you. He was the birthday boy—though, you couldn't exactly remember his name. Mike, Mark— it was some name with an M that you didn't care to memorize, nor recall.

You gave him a smile, reminding yourself that even though this guy was uninteresting, he was Aaron's friend, and so the least you could do was not be rude. Plus, it was his birthday.

"I have work tomorrow," you reasoned, choosing to ignore the fact that you didn't have to go in until late in the afternoon.

"Ah," he said. You thought he'd leave it at that, but you'd soon learn that the birthday boy was persistent. "Does that mean you'd be busy tonight?"

You kept the smile on your face, even as it got tighter with his implication. "Yeah. I plan on turning in early." You were no stranger to intoxicated men that had trouble taking no for an answer; you saw it all the time, and you knew how to handle it by now. Smile, don't insult them, be polite, and wait for them to walk away.

Aaron's friend didn't walk away.

"Aw, come on, baby." The name sounded slimy coming out of his mouth. Ignore him, your mind chanted, don't cause a scene. "I can pay you." 

Just as you'd turned back to the bar, your head was whipping back around. "Excuse me?"

The guy must not have seen the incredulity splayed all over your face; that, or he just didn't care. He shrugged. "I know you could use the money. Aaron's told us all about how you're here on scholarship." He said the words carelessly, unknowing of the weight they held.

He— he did? He told them that— his stupid friends that he couldn't even bear to spend a single night with? You didn't even tell him that; you didn't talk about it. Did he just make that assumption and run with it, then go around telling people?

Your Aaron, the one who waited for your shifts to end and bought you pretty things. Did he... did he just do that because he felt bad for you?

A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around your head, but you fought to keep your face impassive. The smile on your face had long since disappeared. "I don't need your money," you spat. The drinks arrived, but you didn't notice.

He smirked, somehow finding your words amusing. "Oh, baby, don't be offended. I'd be the one truly gaining something here. I'm sure a night with you would be priceless."

The inner voice telling you to stay calm was silenced, and you couldn't tell if you were so angry because of the his words or because of your friend. "Go to hell," you sneered, drinks completely forgotten as you turned away, ready to catch a cab home by yourself.

You were just about to walk away when, suddenly, you felt a foreign sensation, followed by stinging, cementing you to your spot. It was only when you heard his boisterous laughter over the music that you realized what happened.

He slapped your ass.

He slapped your fucking ass.

You pivoted, but before you could even do anything, the boy was sent staggering into the bar. It didn't register to you until you saw the fist following through. Your eyes followed that fist to its owner, meeting a head of dark brown hair.

He wasn't looking at you. His eyes were trained on Mike with a look you didn't recognize, almost like he was baiting him to get back up. With the way he stayed slumped on the bar, you think he was out cold. But with the way the look in Aaron's eyes didn't disappear, you also think he didn't care.

He knocked a guy out for you— his friend.

The same friend he talked about you with.

At that thought, you felt your shock wear off. You spun back around, and in a matter of seconds, you were bulldozing through the crowd at the door. Your ride was still inside, but at that moment, you would've rather walked home than go anywhere near him.

You passed through the mob swiftly, barely registering the call of your name. Was it because of the music or the ringing in your ears? You couldn't tell. 

"Y/N!"

You got outside, rain immediately hitting your head. Was that why your face was wet?

"Y/N!"

Cars whizzed past the club in a flurry. You waved your hand in the air, trying to hail a cab. Why weren't they stopping?

"Y/N, stop." Your hand in the air was grabbed by someone behind you, and only then did you finally realize who was speaking.

You twisted your hand out of his grasp, refusing to turn his way. "Fuck off, Hotchner." The ice in your voice was colder than the raindrops hitting your skin, but even you could hear it crack.

He tried to grab your hand again, but you didn't let him, and so he tried a different approach, grabbing your arm and holding onto it like his life was on the line. Aaron was persistent. He knew how to work people—his debates you'd seen were evidence of that—but you weren't about to let him work you. 

He apologized, "Look, I'm sorry for—"

"For what?" you sharply cut him off, finally turning his way. The sight you were met with nearly broke through your rage. There was that look again, that look in his eyes that could convince you to stay with him forever if he asked you to. Genuine fear.

Fear, and other four-letter words.

You brought your guard back up, using his fear to your advantage and ripping your arm from his hand, turning away before he realized that there was a puddle in your eyes that matched the ones forming on the ground.

You waved your hand again, and on a stroke of luck, a cab finally stopped. Perhaps the universe didn't totally hate you. Before he could utter a single sound, you cursed, "Just fuck off, Aaron."

And maybe the universe actually took pity on you, because Aaron let you get into the cab without any further protest.

If the cab driver noticed the shake in your voice when you told him your address, he didn't say anything. He was silent the entire ride, and you were thankful that he didn't acknowledge you as you tried to stifle your tears.

You were also thankful that you didn't live in a dorm so that, when you got home, you could let the sobs wrack through your body at full force.

God, you told yourself you wouldn't befriend Aaron Hotchner. You told yourself you wouldn't let this happen—that you wouldn't let yourself get hurt. You weren't even supposed to give anyone the opportunity to hurt you, and yet there you were, crying over a boy who wasn't even yours.

He's not yours, Y/N, you berated yourself. He's not yours. The late night movies, the way he sat with you at the bar as you worked, the way he'd study with you and buy you presents. None of that meant anything.

He didn't owe you anything. He didn't owe it you to be the same person around you that he was around his friends. He didn't owe it to you to think of your feelings.

No, he felt sorry for you. Sorry. That was a five letter word.

And it was the only thing Aaron Hotchner felt for you.

Once you stopped crying, you got off the floor and miraculously made it to the bathroom. You weren't drunk, but your legs felt like jello. You weren't sure how much time you spent on the floor sobbing, but when you turned on the light and looked in the mirror, you realized it must've been a long time.

Mascara streaked down your puffy cheeks. Your eyes were so red that it almost looked like you'd been crying for hours. You wiped at your nose, sniffling, and opted to look away from woman in the mirror, turning the faucet on. You didn't want to look at her anymore; she was pitiful, and you weren't supposed to be pitiful.

You couldn't remember the last time you cried so much.

You splashed cold water onto your face, rubbing away at the tear stains. You didn't stop until the swelling looked like it was actually decreasing, but the red in your eyes didn't totally disappear. It made you scoff. You hadn't drank a single drink that night, yet you still looked intoxicated.

Is that what letting people in does? you wondered. Poisons you?

Another scoff left you. You hadn't planned on drinking much that night, but after the events that took place, you figured you might as well.

You opened the bathroom door and made your way to the kitchen. Aaron bought you this bottle of wine once, didn't tell you how much it cost but you knew it was expensive. You were gonna save it for a celebratory occasion, but this was fitting enough.

Just as you were entering the kitchen, you were knocked out of your daze, jerking backward. You threw a hand onto your chest. "Holy fucking shit—"

"Hey, calm down, it's just me—"

"What the fuck, Aaron?" You couldn't keep your voice down, looking at the man in front of you in your dark kitchen with his hands raised as if he was trying to placate you. "Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack— what the fuck are you doing here?" you fired, barely giving him a chance to answer. "How did you even get in?"

Part of you was shocked that there was a man in your apartment in the first place. The other part was shocked because that man was him.

Aaron kept his left hand up, using his right to reach into his pocket and pull out his key ring. It dawned on you then before he even said it. "You gave me a key."

You couldn't help the sigh that escaped you, even if you tried. You didn't know if you were more mad at yourself for giving him such a thing or at him for using it. He never did before; you only gave it to him after he gave you yours. "And so you chose tonight to use it?"

If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under already. All the sadness you'd felt had disappeared, dissipating into this pure anger. Anger at what he said. Anger at how he ran after you like he cared when you knew he didn't. Anger that he was in your house. And anger that he looked so calm.

Aaron had this ability that not many people had, the ability to remain composed in even the worst of situations. It's what would make him a great lawyer one day. It's also what made it so surprising when he seemingly lost it earlier and punched his own friend, one that he surely knew longer than he knew you.

He was an amazing actor. But it made you wonder what the act really was. Was the composure the mask, or was it the pretence that he gave a damn about you? Was it both? Which one was fake and which one was real? Who was the real Aaron Hotchner?

You realized you didn't know.

Maybe you never did.

He let his hands fall to his sides, reasoning, "I figured you wouldn't have let me in if I knocked."

An incredulous laugh left you, in disbelief at what he was saying. "Of course not." The words didn't come out as strong as you would've liked them to.

"Why?" he questioned. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought he was pleading. His voice was soft, too soft, too unlike the Aaron you thought you knew and also unlike the Aaron you found out about tonight. 

For some reason, you felt a tug at your heartstrings.

He took a step closer, prompting you to take a step back. "What did I do, Y/N?" God, was he going to make you say it? Hadn't you been humiliated enough? "Is this about Matt? Because I swear to you, he won't ever bother you again—"

You cut him off with a loud groan, unable to take it any longer. "God, Aaron. No, this isn't about your sleazy fucking friend!" Against your better judgement, you took a step forward, getting close enough to jab your finger in his chest. "This is about you."

You were reminded then that Aaron's eyes looked different in the dark, but you could've sworn you saw hurt. 

"What— what did I do?" he stammered.

You repeated his words under your breath, scoffing, "What did you do?" You shook your head before you looked back up, a renewed fire in your eyes. "Am I your charity case, Hotchner?"

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "What?"

You didn't back down, repeating yourself and enunciating every word slowly. "Am I your charity case?"

Now, he almost looked offended. Angry. But not as angry as you. "What the hell would make you think that?"

Sarcasm laced your voice. "Maybe it was your friend propositioning me because I apparently 'could use the money?' Maybe it was you telling them that I am here on fucking scholarship?" You took another step closer to him, but you failed to see the realization cross his face. "What else did you tell them, huh, Aaron? That you hang out with me because you feel bad for me? That you pay for everything because it makes you feel better about yourself? That I'm so fucking easy all you have to do is wave a wad of cash in my face to get into my pants—"

"Stop it, Y/N! Just fucking stop." He threw his hands into the air, and that momentarily stunned you, but you kept going.

"Oh, you're swearing now. So that means I've touched a nerve—"

His jaw was clenched tightly. "You're being disgusting."

"Am I?" Your voice cracked, and it was almost like you could hear your heart doing the same. The tears were resurfacing. "So how do you think I felt?" You pointed to yourself. "How do you think I felt as I stood there and found out that my—" you cut yourself off.

Your what? What were you gonna say? Your best friend?

Lord knew that Aaron Hotchner was more than that to you, even if that's all he could be.

Your breathing was heavy. You trained your eyes back on the ground, not wanting him to see the tears in your eyes. 

The room was silent. You could hear only the sounds of your own breaths and the rain outside. You were waiting for him to leave so you could find some semblance of peace. You just wanted to be left alone, away from him and all the things he made you feel.

But another part of you was waiting for something else. That part of you was waiting for an explanation. An explanation as to why he would say that, why he would do something like that to you. You knew better than to expect that, so you didn't, but deep down it was what you wanted.

You know better, your brain whispered. You heard his feet shuffle, and you knew then that he was finally leaving. And that was what you wanted, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Just as you were waiting for his feet to keep moving, you looked up and you saw that he wasn't at the door; he was right in front of you.

Aaron stared down at you with an intent gaze, like he was peeling back all of your layers the same way he did with case files. Any previous anger was gone, replaced with emotions you couldn't pinpoint.

Move, your mind said. Tell him to leave.

You opened your mouth to utter the words, but for some reason, they didn't get further than the tip of your tongue.

Almost hesitantly, Aaron rested his hands onto your shoulders, and you let him. Naively. Stupidly. It was dumb of you, and you knew it.

Dumb, and other four-letter words.

"Y/N," he started, and then he paused, like he was trying to find the right words to use. The Aaron you knew always knew what to say, but this one looked shaken. It was unnerving, to see a man like him falter, to see a man that stood so tall suddenly get smaller.

After a few moments, he seemed to have decided what to say, but his words didn't sound rehearsed. "I want you to know that I would never speak about you out of turn. It's my last wish to embarass you, let alone place you into a situation you are not comfortable with." 

His voice was wholly earnest. He looked like he was telling the truth—he was looking at you like he was begging you believe him—but that wasn't enough.

"So why would—" you paused at the lump in your throat. "Why would you tell them about the scholarship?" You wanted to come off demanding, authoritative, but your question was just barely above a whisper.

Aaron's composure wavered. He opened his mouth and then he closed it. "I— I didn't know it was something you hid." You sighed, but he must've sensed that his answer wasn't good enough because he continued, "I didn't tell them because I wanted to belittle you, Y/N. I told them because I was proud."

What?

You took a step backward, and this time, he let you. With his hands now free, he brought one up to his head and ran it through his hair.

Confusion filled you and painted itself all over your face. Your mind worked hard to try and decipher what he meant, gears turning and coming up empty. You didn't understand.

He looked back up at you, and now you could make out new emotions in his eyes. Doubt, masked by a blanket of assurance. "I do talk about you," he revealed. "It's— it's nearly unconcious. Habit." His thumb and forefinger tapped together, a nervous tick of his you'd noticed early on. "The topic of the scholarship came up by accident. I was talking about how smart you were, how you're so smart you got here by merit." He swallowed as your brows furrowed. "That's where the conversation began, and that's where it ended. You're not my— fuck. You're not my charity case, Y/N."

Things started coming together, but none of it made any sense. You couldn't see the picture this puzzle made. It's impossible.

What was he saying— did he know what he was saying?

Maybe he didn't know, but you needed to.

You whispered, "Then what am I to you, Aaron?"

His eyes didn't leave yours. You could see the indecision within them, the struggle as he tried to find the right words to describe your relationship. 

You supposed he never did.

Because, within seconds, he advanced and his lips were colliding into yours. You were surpised by how quickly you reciprocated, letting him wrap his arms around your waist, letting him pour all the words he couldn't say into this kiss.

A kiss.

A kiss and other four-letter words.

taglist: @c-losur3 @aadu2173 @todorokishoe24

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: August 2022

At any given moment: Chapter 16 (M) - Skye-Anne Ambitiousflower

Be Alone with Me Tonight (T) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

Caribbean Heat: Chapters 26-27 (M) - fitzgerald1

Choices: Chapters 22-26 (M) - urfavkidd

Command Performance & Other Tales of AU Olitz: Plastic off Virgo’s Groove (M) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

Find a way: Chapter 27 (M) - Hydrangeasia

First Do No Harm: Chapter 40 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Governor Grant: Chapters 10-15 (M) - Popekeating2020

Hello Stranger!: Chapter 13 (M) - OlitzLove2019

In the After: Chapter One (T) - DayDreamLover

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 41 (M) - Popekeating2020

Making Waves: Chapter 5 (T) - Sucker4Scandal

Mourn the Living (M) - @labellebeaucoup

Never Break the Chain: Chapter 3 (M) - mikerome

New Territory: Chapters 28-31 (T) - cbssoapsgirl

Olitz One Shot: The Naval Base: Chapter 6 (M) - Popekeating2020

Taken: Chapter 31 (M) - Hydrangeasia

The 14th of February: Chapter 14 (M) - Popekeating2020

To Win the White House: Chapters 1-2 (M) - @labellebeaucoup

Up Close and Personal: Chapter 85 (T) - DayDreamLover

Wild Heart (T) - mikerome

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: October 2022

A Winning Season: Chapters 41-42 (M) - TheBookofTaste

Caribbean Heat: Chapters 31-32 (M) - fitzgerald1

Choices: Chapters 33-34 (M) - urfavkidd

Find a Way; Chapter 28 (M) - Hydrangeasia

First Do No Harm: Chapter 41 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Governor Grant: Chapters 18-20 (M) - Popekeating2020

Love and Art: Chapter 37 (M) - Starfish81

Love Beyond the Scars; Chapter 43 (M) - Popekeating2020

Metanoia: Chapter 31 (M) - PaperFrames

New Territory: Chapters 34-37 (T) - cbssoapsgirl

Olitz One Shot: The Naval Base: Chapter 8 (M) - Popekeating2020

Our Road to 1600 Penn Ave: Chapters 1-3 (T) - GFKL 

Ours: Chapters 1-2 (M) - LiveinLoveAndLaughter

Sanctuary: Chapter 5 (M) - hexgawd

Taken: Chapter 32 (M) - Hydrangeasia

The 14th of February: Chapter 15 (M) - Popekeating2020

The Distillery: Chapters 1-3 (M) - GFKL

The Land of the Lost and Lonely: Chapter 5 (T) - Queenoliviagrant

To Win the White House: Chapter 4 (M) - HarshDisgrace

Welcome to Las Vegas: Chapter 42 (M) - sweetess04fj / @sweetness04

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: June 2022

A Winning Season: Epilogue, Part III (M) - TheBookofTaste

Always in My Dreams: Epilogue (M) - dustypencils

Caribbean Heat: Chapters 23-24 (M) - fitzgerald1

Chasing Fireflies: Chapter 43 (Epilogue) (M) - @labellebeaucoup

Choices: Chapters  7-12 (M) - urfavkidd

Find Your Way Back: Chapter 7 (M) - Musesofthemind

Governor Grant: Chapters 1-4 (M) - Popekeating2020

Holiday Dreams: Chapter 9 (M) - PaperFrames

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 39 (M) - Popekeating2020

Making Waves (T) - Sucker4Scandal

Midnight Train to Georgia: Chapter 11 (M) - Scandal752

Never Break the Chain: Chapters 1-2 (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf

Olitz is here to Stay (T) - kkimberly49

Olitz One Shot: The Naval Base: Chapter 5 (M) - Popekeating2020

One Night Only: Chapter 3 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Sanctuary (M) - hexgawd

Streets: Chapter 8 (M) - Musesofthemind

The 14th of February: Chapter 11 (M) - Popekeating2020

TMTLY - THE SEQUEL-LOVE TESTED: Chapters 1-2 (M) - Keke TheGoddess / @kekethegoddessme

Upside: Chapter 8 (M) - urfavkidd

Vision Sequel: Chapter 23 (M) - Hydrangeasia

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: September 2022

Caribbean Heat: Chapters 28-30 (M) - fitzgerald1

Choices: Chapters 27-32 (M) - urfavkidd

Governor Grant: Chapters 16-17 (M) - Popekeating2020

Just What You’re Worth: Chapter 6 (M) - @jilyandbambi

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 42 (M) - Popekeating2020

Never Break the Chain: Chapter 4 (M) - mikerome

New Territory: Chapters 32-33 (T) - cbssoapsgirl

Olitz One Shot - The Naval Base: Chapter 7 (M) - Popekeating2020

Out On A Limb - One Shot (M) - OlitzLove2019

Sanctuary: Chaptes 3-4 (M) - hexgawd

Stuck in Your World: Chapters 1-7 (T) - Queenoliviagrant

The Land of the Lost and Lonely (T) - Queenoliviagrant

To Win the White House: Chapter 3 (M) - labellebeaucoup

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: February 2022

Happy reading!

a little life (M) - @jilyandbambi

A Semester Away: Chapters 42 & 43 (M) - remusslupinn

A Winning Season: Chapter 29 (M) - TheBookofTaste

As (Always): Episode 14, Part I (M) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

Carribean Heat: Chapters 18 & 19 (M) - fitzgerald1

Changes (M) - jonn3y5

Christmas Happinesss: Chapter 7 (M) - Popekeating2020 

Command Perforrmance & Other Tales of AU Olitz (M) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

First Do No Harm: Chapter 37 (M) - OlitzLove2019

In the After (M) - DayDreamLover

It’s summer: Chapter 14 (M) - Scandal752

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapters 33 & 34 (M) - Popekeating2020

Midnight Train to Georgia (M) - Scandal752

Scotch & Wine: Chapter 38 (M) - Parker19

Sleep On the Floor: Chapters 10 & 11 (M) - PaperFrames

The 14th of February (M) - Popekeating2020

Welcome to Las Vegas: Chapters 39 & 40 (M) - sweetnesss04fj / @sweetness04

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: May 2022

A Semester Away; Chapters 44-45 (M) - remusslupinn / @myboyfitz​

A Winning Season: Epilogue (M) - ABookofTaste

Blurred Lines: Chapter 80 - Epilogue (M) - OlitzLove2019

Choices: Chapters 1-3 (M) - urfavkidd

Executive Orders: Episode Twenty-Two (M) - MzMocha / @artsychica2012​

First Do No Harm: Chapter 38 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Going Through the Motions (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 38 (M) - Popekeating2020

Olitz One Shot:The Naval Base - Mother’s Day (M) - Popekeating2020

SECRETS: Chapter 29 (M) - Keke TheGoddess / @kekethegoddessme

Streets: Chapter 7 (M) - Musesofthemind / @musesoftheminds

The 14th of February: Chapters 9-10 (M) - Popekeating2020

The Pathway to Vermont: Chapters 59-61 (M) - A.L. Carrington

To Forgive, Divine: Chapter 24 (T) - marsgyal

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: July 2022

A Winning Season: Chapters 39-40 (M) - TheBookofTaste

Caribbean Heat: Chapter 25 (M) - fitzgerald1

Choices: Chapters 13-21(M) - urfavkidd 

Executive Orders: Chapters 90-93 (M) - MzMocha / @artsychica2012

First Do No Harm: Chapter 39 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Governor Grant: Chapters 5-9 (M) - Popekeating2020

Hello Stranger!: Chapters 11-12 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 40 (M) - Popekeating2020

Making Waves: Chapters 2-4 (M) - Sucker4Scandal

Midnight Train to Georgia: Chapter 12 (M) - Scandal752

New Territory (T) *REWRITE* - cbssoapsgirl

Olitz is Here to Stay: Chapter 2 (M) - kkimberly49

One Night Only: Chapter 4 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Sanctuary: Chapter 2 (M) - hexgawd

Street Lights (K) - mikerome

The 14th of February: Chapters 12-13 (M) - Popekeating2020

Vision Sequel: Chapter 24 (M) - Hydrangeasia

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: March 2022

A Small Reprieve (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf

A Winning Season: Chapter 31 (M) The BookofTaste

Always in My Dreams: Chapter 78 (M) - dustypencils

As (Always): Episode 14 (M) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

Carribean Heat:. Chapters 20-22 (M) - fitzgerald1

Changes: Chapter 2 (M) - jonn3y5

Chasing Fireflies: Chapters 41-42 (M) - @labellebeaucoup

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapter 35 (M) - Popekeating2020

Midnight Train to Georgia: Chapters 6-8 (M) - Scandal752

Moving Through Water (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf

Olitz One Shot: The Naval Base; Chapter 3 (M) - Popekeating2020

One Night Only: Chapter 2 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Scotch & Wine: Chapter 39 (M) - Parker19

The 14th of February:  Chapters 5-7 (M) - Popekeating2020

To Forgive, Divine: Chapter 23 (T) - marsgyal

Upside: Chapters 5-6 (M) - urfavkidd

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fic Digest: April 2022

A Winning Season: Chapters 32-34 (M) - TheBookofTaste

Christmas Happiness: Chapter 8 (M) - Popekeating2020

Hello Stranger: Chapter 10 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapters 36-37 (M) - Popekeating2020

Midnight Train to Georgia: Chapters 9-10 (M) - Scandal752

Sleepless Night (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf 

Starry Night (M) - mikerome / @oliviapopesgf

The 14th of February: Chapter 8 (M) -  Popekeating2020

Upside: Chapter 7 (M) - urfavkidd

Vision Sequel: Chapter 22 (M) - Hydrangeasia

Wait for Love: Chapter 10 (M) - sweetness04fj / @sweetness04

Welcome to Las Vegas: Epilogue (M) - sweetness04fj / @sweetness04

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fanfic Digest: July 2021

A New Life for Olivia (T) - Queenoliviagrant

A Semester Away: Chapter 37 (M) - remusslupinn  / @myboyfitz

A Winning Season: Chapters 6-10 (M) - TheBookofTaste

After We Fall: Chapter 13 (M) - olitzxxrichonne

As (Always): Episode Eleven Parts I & II (M) - IncorrectPetunia / @anincorrectpetunia

At any given moment: Chapters 1-3 (M) - Skye-AnneAmbitiousflower / @skye-anne

Beyond Whiskey: Chapter 13 (M) -  tied.knots 

Chasing Fireflies: Chapter 33 (M) -labellebeaucoup

Courage: Chapters 32 & epilogue (M) - Scandal752

Duty Calls: Chapter 30 (M) - Sucker4Scandal

Everything Happens for a Reason (T) - missdiva44

Famous in love: Chapter 8 (T) - ollitz.lover 

in the garden would you trust me? (T) -popexpaulsen

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapters 12-19 (M) - Popekeating2020

Love Our Way: Chapter 2 (K) - Publius44

Scotch & Wine: Chapter 20 (M) - Parker19

Secrets: Chapter 3 (M) - Musesofthemind

The Glitch: Chapters 13-14 (T) - Queenoliviagrant

The Time Machine: Chapters 1-9 (T) - Queenoliviagrant

There’s Hope (M) - royalty.xo

To Forgive, Divine: Chapter 20 (T) - marsgyal

Wait for Love: Chapter 7 (M) - sweetness04fj / @sweetness04

Welcome toOLas Vegas: Chapter 36 (M) - sweetness04fj / @sweetness04

Where Do Broken Hearts Go?: Chapter 3 (M) - heartandsoul76

You’re Fired Olivia; Chapters 1-2 (T) - Dragonball x Avalon

[douxbebearchives]

Olitz Fanfic Digest: September 2021

A Presidential Election: Chapter 78 (T) - ScandalMania

Always in My Dreams: Chapter 76 (M) - dustypencils

At any given moment: Chapters 9-11 (M) - Skye-anne Ambitiousflower / @skye-anne

Blurred Lines: Chapter 77 (M) - OlitzLove2019

Caribbean Heat: Chapters 7-9 (M) - fitzgerald1

Chasing Fireflies: Chapters 36-38 (M) - @labellebeaucoup

Epiphany: Chapter 15, part 2 (M) - NoLove10 / @allshipscanon123​

Famous in love: Chapter 11 (T) - ollitz lover 

Figure It Out: Chapter 9 (M) - MiracleOriginal

Knights Ferry: Chapter 25 (M) - lynalexandria

Lake By the Ocean: Chapter 7 (M) - marsgyal

Love Beyond the Scars: Chapters 26-27 (M) - Popekeating2020

Metanoia: Chapter 29 (M) - PaperFrames

Obsession: Chapters 5-6 (M) - Ivy Amor / @ivymiamor-blog​​

Olitz One Shot: The Naval Base: Chapter 2 (M) - Popekeating2020 

Pants up, skirts down (M) - Scandal752

Scotch & Wine: Chapter 34 (M) - Parker19

Streets: Chapter 4 (M) - musesofthemind

Taken: Chapters 23-24 (M) - Hydrangeasia

Time Will Reunite Us: Chapter 19 (M) - Reader575 / @reader575la

The Swap: Chapters 1-5 (M) - PenLightened

Wait for Love: Chapters 8-9 (M) - sweetness04fj  @sweetness04​

Welcome to Las Vegas: Chapters 37-38 (M) - sweetness04fj / @sweetness04​ 

Why Didn’t I Meet You Sooner: Chapter 3 (M)  - Ivy Amor / @ivymiamor-blog