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littlemissmentallyunstable · 1 month ago

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title: fix you

pairing: aaron warner x (first person) reader

synopsis: aaron returns from a meeting with his father, but something is off… (prior to the ignite me tattoo btw)

warnings: mentions of abuse, a bit suggestive at the end ;)

a/n: first aaron warner fic ever… thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @sweetlikeanangel @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @bewitchingkisses @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces

I hear someone stumble in and immediately panic seizes my chest. Aaron Warner doesn’t stumble, so logically it must be an intruder. But who the hell would’ve found a way into Aaron’s private quarters? I don’t care, I grab the gun from under the floor board and slowly approach the door. My heart bangs in my chest, crawling its way to my mouth. It’s so dark that I can barely see a thing. I hear a second step taken and I can tell by the way the weight is hitting the floor unevenly that it’s a shaky step. I take my chance and swiftly rush out, gun pointed towards the figure.

“You’re holding that all wrong, love,” says a dry voice.

“Aaron?” I ask, my voice catches in shock. I squint through the darkness in attempts to recognise him.

“Care to explain the gun?” he replies, eyebrows raised at my questionably aimed weapon.

“I thought you were an intruder,” I say, dropping my arms down to my side and playing the gun down.

“I am not,” Aaron tells me bluntly.

“Obviously,” I smile, attempting to touch his arm. But just as a go to clasp my hand around it, he moves.

Swiftly and almost silently, he walks past me. I feel his body brush against mine softly.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need to shower,” he replies.

There’s something off about him. He stumbled in, his voice is uneven, he wants to get away from me. Something happened and I have this horrible feeling that it was something horrible.

“Are you okay?” I say, trying to seem casual.

“Fine,” he replies. His tone is blunt but cut-throat. He can tell I’m fishing for what’s really wrong and he’s making it clear he doesn’t want to talk. Unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong girl if he wants me to shut up and move on.

“Did it go okay?” I continue.

“It went how it usually did,” he tells me, his voice low.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. I knew who his dad was and how he was treated, I knew the traumatic stories of his childhood and the bad memories that would haunt him at night, I knew I wanted to kill the man who’d given them to him. But one thing I never knew was anything to do with the meetings held with his dad.

“You know my father, love. He isn’t a pleasant man and nor are his meetings,” he says plainly, “now I’m going to wash.”

He walks towards the bathroom, flicking the light on. The brightness is fluorescent and artificial. I begin to follow him and then I see it. I stop in my tracks. Reams of crimson ribbon decorate the back of his white shirt, jagged lines of the deepest blood red. The fabric has soaked in the liquid and it’s splayed out all across the white. My stomach turns.

“Aaron…” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“Please, love,” he sighs, running a hand through his perfect hair, “I need to shower.”

“He hurt you,” I murmured, “again?”

He freezes suddenly, realising he’s bled through his white shirt. He’s too exposed to hide it from me this time. He can’t brush it under the carpet when the stains are on the surface. He lifts his head up, back still towards me.

“Don’t,” he says harshly, his voice so low it sounds dangerous.

I don’t say a word as he walks into the bathroom, but my legs can’t help but follow even though my brain is telling them it might be a better idea to not. I step inside quietly and I can feel his body tense.

“Aaron-“

“I said don’t,” he repeats, the bitterness in his tone making me flinch.

Something that resembles anger flickers in my chest. An amber flame of fury.

“Sit down,” I say, my voice firm and unwavering.

He stills, staring down. I don’t say a word and neither does he. In the silence, the air grows heavy and thick, weighted with unspoken words. I don’t know how long we stand like this until slowly he sits down on the lid of the toilet. I wait a few beats, then slowly crouch down, level with his knees and his eyes shooting straight to the floor.

“He hurt you again, didn’t he?” I ask for the second time.

He’s silent.

“Please Aaron,” I beg, “you can’t keep doing this.”

The desperation in my tone makes his heart ache, but still he doesn’t look at me as he says, “he’s hurt me my entire life, love, today he was no different.”

“Show me,” I murmured.

“I don’t want you to see this,” he grits through his teeth, still refusing to meet my eyes.

“I don’t care,” I say, “you can’t keep shutting me out.”

“I can and I will,” he replied curtly, turning away.

“Warner,” I snap, in an attempt to get his attention.

He looks up sharply. His green eyes flicker with some sort of hurt. I never called him Warner, he was my Aaron. Warner was for everyone else, but Aaron was for me.

“Let me help you,” I say firmly, “you need to let me in like I let you in, this goes two ways.”

He stares at me saying nothing for a while. I wonder when he’s going to get up and walk out. Maybe leave completely. Forever. That thought scares me the most. Aaron shuts down when he can’t share his problems. He shuts down and shuts me out.

I am surprised when he slowly takes his shirt off, revealing his battered back. I bite back a gasp and conceal the shock and horror from being displayed on my face. Amongst the jagged scars that ripple across his back, the ones I already knew of, the ones I had once traced, there were fresh wounds. Long, distorted shapes are looping across him, oozing fresh hot blood. Great purple bruises splayed out of the sides of each lash mark, creating some sort of sick and twisted abstract art piece.

He must be in so much pain.

“It’s a shame really,” he murmurs, “I quite liked that shirt.”

I pull myself together, “you have a dozen others like it.”

“I liked that one,” he replies quietly.

“I like you without a shirt better anyways,” I grin at him.

“Well,” he says cracking a half smile, “I suppose I can spare it then.”

“I suppose you can.”

I grab a wash cloth from the cabinet above and soak it with warm water. Gently, I dab his new lashings, trying to wash them. The deep red bleeds through the white of the cloth, spreading through it, like a river of hate. With each stroke I see his face contort.

“Does this hurt?” I ask tenderly.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his voice hard.

“You’re wincing,” I say flatly.

He glares at me. It’s hot.

“I’m fine,” he states.

I drop it and continue to clean. When I am satisfied that I’ve done the best I can, I return to the cabinet and pull out antiseptic and bandages.

“Not antiseptic,” Aaron grumbles.

“Don’t be a baby,” I retort with a laugh, cutting the bandages to the right size.

“I’m not!” he says, a bit too defensively.

“I’m not letting those wounds get infected Aaron, I’m using antiseptic,” I tell him, unable to suppress my smile.

He rolls his eyes and reluctantly lets me press antiseptic into each open gash. He hisses each time, refusing to cry out so I attempt to be as quick and efficient as I can.

When I am finished, I move on the bandages. I stand in front of him and work around. Gently, I wrap the bandage over his back and torso. His hands suddenly clasp my waist, his grip is firm. I bite back a gasp. His hands are so hot I can feel them through my clothes, though in this moment I wish I didn’t have the barrier of clothes.

I try to ignore the distraction he knows he’s making. Softly and methodically I continue to bandage his back and once I make the final wrap I lean down and press my lips on his. He kisses back eagerly, pulling me onto his lap. I wrap my thighs around his hips and continue to plant tender kisses all over his mouth. I’m dizzied by the sensations of passion. We pull away finally when neither of us can think straight and his eyes lock with mine, the delicate green tainted with something I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“How do you feel?” I ask, brushing a strand of blonde that had fallen, out of the way.

“After that,” he murmurs with a grin, “on top of the world.”

“Your back,” I deadpan.

“I don’t care about my back,” he groans, “kiss me again.”

“Aaron,” I say, my tone accusing.

“Please, love,” he begs, closing his eyes, “I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms here.”

“Aaron,” I laugh.

“Just one kiss, it won’t hurt,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. His touch so airy I almost don’t feel it.

“I’m not kissing you until you answer me,” I reply.

“You like to make my life difficult don’t you?” he sighs.

“Ditto,” I poke my tongue out.

“It’s much better now you’ve worked your magic,” he answers my question, gazing at me.

There’s a long pause, but it feels like our eyes carry on the conversation. But every time I look into those emerald voids, I feel his pain. And it makes me see red.

“He shouldn’t do this to you,” I murmur, anger lacing my tone.

“I know,” he replies.

“I hate it,” I practically growl, my face all screwed up at the thought of someone hurting Aaron. My Aaron. I hadn’t had time to get angry earlier, I’d been too worried about the wounds. Now they were clean and dressed, I have the opportunity.

“I know,” he says again.

“I want to stop it,” I tell him, then falter, “but I don’t know how.”

“I’ve been trying to work that out for a while, love,” he says, nuzzling into my collarbone.

“Just,” I pause and sigh, “please let me help you, you don’t have to hide for everyone you know.”

“It’s what I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking up, “opening up is the opposite of how I was trained to be.”

“But you’ll try?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ll do anything for you, love,” he smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I smile, my cheeks glowing a soft pink.

“I love you,” he whispers with another kiss.

“I love you too,” I giggle, melting into him.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly, tenderly. The motion is long and drawn out, each millisecond testing my self control. Desperation claws at me, all I want to do is kiss him harder and faster but I stay patient. My hands find their way to the back of his neck and comfortably into his hair.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says against my lips.

“You don’t sleep until three o’clock in the morning,” I scoff.

He turns and looks at me, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk placed comfortably on his lips, “who says we’re sleeping?”

a/n: this is my first aaron warner fic and cut me some slack bc I have not read shatter me in months, I really should do another reread… but hopefully I captured the characters okay. But tbh after reading it back I kind of hate it, it feels rushed and weird but yolo so I’m posting it anyways!!

and I know what you’re thinking ‘bella you promised us the mysterious blonde part 4’… I know it is being written, it’s just really long and I want it to be perfect so there are a few little fics in between

shatter me masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#aaron warner #aaron warner x reader #aaron warner x you #aaron warner one shot #shatter me #tahereh mafi #juliette ferrars #nazeera ibrahim #kenji kishimoto #unravel me #ignite me #restore me #defy me #imagine me

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lavenderspence · 2 months ago

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unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

masterlist

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins.

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while.

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness.

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all.

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing.

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner.

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes.

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume.

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft.

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known.

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing.

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes.

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way.

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch.

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making.

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all.

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself.

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light.

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was.

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both.

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind.

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.

“You’re not doing well.”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it.

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself.

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.”

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too.

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else.

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling.

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same.

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with.

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned.

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow.

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not.

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were living instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that.

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist.

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner.

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth.

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice.

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years.

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed.

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress.

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely.

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more.

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process.

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst

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smok3r7 · 5 months ago

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They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Can It Work?

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Your first case doesn’t go as planned or at least not how you wanted it to go. Are you fit for this?

Word count: 4.3k

Season 8, Ep. 8 “The Wheels on the Bus” is incorporated in this chapter, I hope you guys enjoy, I had a fun time with this one<3

—

As you sit in the black leather office chair, staring at Aaron with pure intentions, your hands grip the armrests tightly to conceal their shaking. The cold air in the room makes you shiver, but you will not let him see your vulnerability. Aaron's piercing gaze meets yours, and you feel the nerves inside you threatening to unravel.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, pleading your facade will hold. Despite the icy chill running through your veins, a fire burns within you, a fierce determination to face whatever challenge lies ahead. You square your shoulders, meeting Aaron's gaze head-on, a silent battle of yearning unraveling between you.

You refuse to let fear control you or take over, ready to confront whatever obstacles you’ll face.

But when Aaron's gaze wanders from your eyes to the glinting gold chain peeking out from beneath your button-up shirt, a rush of anticipation courses through you. With bated breath, you observe the subtle shift in his demeanor as his pupils dilate upon catching sight of the golden heart pendant that he gave you so many years ago.

In that moment, a strong sense of satisfaction wraps around you, knowing that he has noticed the intimate piece of jewelry nestled against your skin. You can almost feel the invisible thread of connection tightening between you, a silent acknowledgement passing between the stares to one another.

"So how've ya been?" you ask into the cold office.

He takes a moment before replying, moving his amber orbs back to yours, "I’ve been fine, just trying to stay on top of everything. You?"

You're hesitant to tell Aaron, so you give a quick response. "I've been busy, but good." Despite the smile on your face, Aaron senses something off. He looks at you intently, waiting for more. You can feel the weight of your secret pressing on your chest, threatening to spill out at any moment. But you push it down, putting on the facade of normalcy.

The truth is, things have been far from good. You've been struggling with something that you're not ready to share yet. There are just some things that shouldn’t be shared immediately, and the fact that you still have feelings for him, is one of them. But you almost feel compelled to tell him, but the need to keep this job fights that feeling.

"We can’t let…whatever this is-” You point your finger to yourself, back to him, and to yourself again, “Get in between the job. It just can’t.” You express it mainly to Aaron but also as a reminder to yourself. “People are counting on us to help them and their community. Our problems are minuscule to theirs.”

Aaron nods in agreement, his determination matching yours. "I agree," he nods, "We both can be professional, right? As long as that happens, you will be a perfect fit to the team."

“I can keep things professional. It’s my forte,” you chime as you stand up and soothe your button up. “It was nice to meet you, Aaron Hotchner.” You figure this is a chance for you both to start over again, you reach your hand over his desk, waiting for him in return. The unexpected warmth in his smile caught you off guard as he reciprocated your handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, dear.” In that moment, the icy facade of Aaron Hotchner melts away, revealing a glimpse of the person behind the stern exterior. The person who once used to be your person. The person who you used to love.

As you walk out of his office, you can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. And little did you know - this encounter marks the beginning of an unexpected connection that unfolds in the weeks to come.

—

“Abducting a bus, a form of transportation, gas masks, shock collars, dividing people into teams. This sounds a lot like Gods of Combat." Rossi announces, but the room stares at him in pure disbelief that the older Italian man knows something about video games. “This is a video game.” He backs himself up, shrugging his shoulders just a bit.

“These guys are replicating a video game?” Derek asks, almost jokingly folding his arms in front of his broad chest as he leans against a desk.

Rossi nods his head and moves towards the big round table, pointing at crime scene photos, “In the game, you take over a form of public transportation. Subway, train, bus. That's how you get your players.”

“Wait a minute. You've played this game before?” You blurt out, you truly are taken aback by Rossi knowing so much about this so-called game. You lean back in the office chair and stretch your legs out in front of you, folding your arms against your chest.

“Well, I may have played it once or twice. But, with how similar it is… it seems like they definitely pre-selected these kids.” Rossi moves his eyes between the whole team.

“I’m sure they got all the kids' personal information from social media sites and they knew when the kids would be most vulnerable. And which bus route they’d be on.” JJ bounces her thoughts to everyone, with which you all agree.

“How do you win this game?” You and Hotch ask at the same time, even though you’re on opposite sides of the table. The whole room goes quiet and the awkward stares between you and Aaron begin, but you try to stay focused on Rossi who apparently knows it all.

You can’t help yourself from looking over to Aaron once more, you instantly see him looking at you but not at your face. You calmly raise your right hand to the golden heart that lays high on your chest. His eyes move off of you faster than the speed of light, almost too fast to catch, but you do.

You’ve caught him staring at it a dozen times since the first day you saw him after so many years, it’s like he can’t stop because he can’t believe after a decade you still have it, let alone wear it.

Two peas in a pod, Derek mumbles to himself as he turns around and fills his second cup of coffee of the morning. You can’t help the small smirk that quickly appears, but you pull it down before too many people notice. But still playing with the small heart.

“Well… That’s why we gotta hurry up and find them. Because the player with the highest body count wins.”

Your stomach drops instantly. You weren’t expecting that information, because now if you are too late to find these kids, they could all end up dead. That responsibility alone, terrifying.

—

The FBI vest clings to your sweaty body as you carefully make your way through the dimly lit building. Your arms feel like stone and jello at the same time, the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the physical strain, your mind remains sharp and focused. You have a mission to accomplish - to save the innocent children trapped in this nightmare.

As you navigate through the dark abandoned corridors, you hear faint cries echoing in the distance, urging you to move faster. These kids don’t deserve the horrors that await them.

With each step, you draw closer to the source of the cries, and your heart pounds in anticipation. You prepare yourself for what lay ahead, ready to confront whatever challenges stood in the way of rescuing the children and bringing them to safety.

Continuing to navigate the dark abandoned factory with your team, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, with Derek leading the way and Aaron covering the rear.

Your heart races as you watch Derek check a hallway to his left, prompting you to swiftly move towards the doorway on the right. With your gun raised, you enter the room and release a silent breath as you find it empty. The tension is high as you three press on, each step echoing in the empty space.

“Just shut up!” Echoes through the cement hallways, in the direction Derek’s heading towards. The three of you quicken your pace, still checking rooms that appear here and there. The arguing becomes louder and louder, until Derek tells you and Hotch to stop along the wall while he slowly moves into the open room, where you can only assume are the unsubs.

“FBI, drop your weapon!” he yells out, “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I'm here to help you.” You glance at Hotch to make sure he’s thinking the same thing as you. Which he must because he nods once, allowing you to slowly follow Morgan and he follows you.

As the tension hangs in the air, you announce your credentials and last name, followed by Hotch doing the same. The three of you spread out cautiously, not wanting to startle the unsub and trigger a dangerous or harmful reaction. A group of a dozen or more kids are behind a chain link fence with a padlock on the door portion, and two of them have dog shock collars on.

Each step you take feels deliberate, every movement calculated to maintain control of the situation. But from the look of things, you can tell this isn’t going to go smoothly. Your gut instinct is in overtime.

Knowing that one wrong move could escalate the already precarious situation. The stakes are high, and as you brace yourself for whatever might unfold, the weight of the moment is nearly suffocating. But yet, you are calm, cool, and collected.

The brown haired boy looks no older than seventeen, this must be the younger brother, the least dangerous of the two. “C’mon kid, we don’t wanna hurt you,” you firmly plead with him, his gun still aimed at Morgan but his eyes on you. You’re not sure what convinces him to do it, but he lowers the gun to the ground and puts his hands behind his head.

Go, Hotch tells Derek to cuff the kid. But before he gets to the seventeen year old, his older brother comes around the corner with his gun aimed directly at you. Instinctively, you shoot, hitting him dead center in his chest.

A deafening shot echoes in the narrow space. Shock and disbelief mingles with the smell of gunpowder as the reality of the irreversible act sinks in. You watch as the dark brown haired man hits the wall behind him and quickly sinks down to the dirty cold floor, motionless.

You stand frozen in disbelief, a faint screaming from the kids going in one ear and out the other. Your hands tremble, but your grip on the gun remains steady, pointed at the fallen figure before you. In that moment, time seems to stand still as the weight of what you just did settles in. It wasn't just any man you had shot – it was the slick unsub you had been hunting down for days.

The gravity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Your first case on the job, and you have taken a life. The scenes of your own life play out in your mind, a blur of memories and emotions. If you hadn’t taken action, you would be the one on the floor…not him.

You acted on pure instinct, driven by adrenaline and the need to protect the victims, your team, and yourself. But now, as you stare down at the consequences of your actions, you know that this moment will change you.

“A-are you okay?” Aaron’s voice is faint as he asks repeatedly, which shakes you awake from your panic. His right hand on the top of your gun, where your fingers are still tightly wrapped around the handle. You let him take it from your hands, but you still stand there motionless as you stare at the body no more than five feet away from you.

“I will be.”

—

As the sun sets over the horizon, creating this painting-like sky with the brightest oranges and pinks melting into each other, Emily and Derek sit across from you at the jet table, waiting to hear your thoughts about the job. You take a deep breath, trying to gather the many thoughts you have as you begin to debrief them.

You tell them about the adrenaline rush of cracking the case, the satisfaction of bringing justice to the victims. But you also fired your weapon for the first time and ended up killing him, and even though he was your unsub and an evil person - you still took a life.

You’re battling inside if you want to share these thoughts, but this is the time to be truthful about how you’re dealing with something so heavy. It’s the moment you have to decide if this job works for you or not, because if it doesn’t then you have to move on to something else for work, which is okay to do.

“I think I’m just… Still in shock? I’m not sure…” You state but it comes out as more of a question than anything. “I know this guy was the worst, but having to kill him still doesn’t sit right with me.” Leaning back just enough in your seat where your lower back releases some tension in your sore body, “But at the same time… It- it does.”

Morgan and Emily both chuckle to themselves, but in a sympathetic rather than mocking manner. “You may feel that way for a while, or a little bit. First time, it took me two days to get back to myself again. I just didn’t feel real or good about myself, I guess, is the best way to explain it,” Emily truthfully tells you, taking a sip of water to follow as she glances to her right, where Morgan sits.

“It took me a day, but that day felt like months. I almost didn’t come to work the next day… But when I woke up, I told myself that it was me or him. I ultimately had to do it.” Morgan admits, “That’s all you can do.”

You give a forced smile as you play with your fingers and he stands up with his headphones and phone in hand as he moves towards the long couch behind you. But before he passes you, he gently lays his hand on your shoulder. Take your time, he sincerely tells you.

It finally hits you, the importance of having a team that truly cares about each other can make all the difference in the world. Emily and Morgan's unwavering support is your anchor in this weird time in your life.

However, a part of you yearns for Aaron's reassuring presence; his comforting words and warm embrace are sorely missed. A simple, I’m glad you’re safe, would bring you back to solid ground immediately.

—

“Can we talk?”

As you reach your desk the voice you’ve been wanting to hear so bad, finally it’s here. Even though you just wanna go home and escape from this nightmare of a case, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity of being with Aaron.

“I’ll meet you in your office, gotta use the ladies room.”

Aaron nods his head and turns back towards his office, speaking with Morgan about something, it turns to mumbles as you get farther. As you walk down the hallway towards the bathrooms, you hear the distant sounds of chatter and laughter from the bustling office. You’re surprised how many people are still at work, considering it’s close to midnight.

You quicken your pace, eager to get back to Aaron's office. As you enter the empty corporate bathroom, you take a deep breath and try to calm your racing thoughts.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

After a few moments of deep breathing and building yourself up, you splash some water on your face and stare at your reflection in the mirror. Everything from these past few days replay in your mind, each detail vivid and haunting. Sticking to you like leather seats on a hot day, ripping your skin. You shake your head, willing yourself to focus on one thing at a time.

With a determined look, you straighten your shoulders and head back towards Aaron's office. Quantico may never sleep, but neither do you when there’s work to be done - since you fired your weapon, paperwork is necessary.

On your way back to his office you spot Reid, Emily, and JJ waiting for the elevator, looking ready to go home and sleep. I wish that was me.

JJ calls you over with her arms open, waiting for you. Your face warm with a smile, you go to her and welcome her warm embrace that’s full of love and worry. Her motherly traits have become a huge part of JJ’s personality that it pours out of her at this point. And you’re glad she’s here.

“You’ll be okay.”

“Thank you… You guys get some sleep.” You tell them, wanting to say you’ll see them tomorrow, but you’re not sure if you will.

“You too,” Reid tells you with a small smile on his face, one you haven’t seen much of yet, but you’d like to.

The elevator dings and opens, you step back with a small wave as they walk in and return one to you as the metal doors close. Inhaling deeply, you start your journey back to his office over again with the only intent to listen.

“What’re you still doin’ here?” you question Derek, who’s at his desk busy with what looks to be paperwork of some kind.

“Gotta tell the director it was a good shooting,” he responds, putting his pen down on his desk, he takes in the sight of you standing across from him for a moment, “You’re doin’ well, I can tell you’ll be a good part of the team already.”

You smile and tell him thank you, and to have a good night, which he reciprocates with a playful wink. You like Derek a lot, he’s a great guy all around and he can lighten the mood quickly when things get too serious or he asks the hard questions - the ones that need to be asked.

Walking to what almost feels like the lion's den, you’re nervous. Even though you trust this man with your life, it’s impressive and intimidating he made it as far as the Unit Chief. The relationship now being a boss and employee one, it scares you just enough - your career is in the palm of his hands, he can do whatever he wants.

Without really preparing yourself you knock on the door that’s slightly ajar, come in, and you do without a second thought. Swiftly taking a seat in the same black leather chair as when you first joined the team. You swear you see Aaron wipe his eyes so the tears won’t show, but you don’t say anything.

"I'm sorry you had to do that today," Aaron confesses with a tone you haven’t heard in forever, his amber eyes filled with regret and worry. "I should've been on top of it, that's my fault." His words hang heavy in the air, laden with genuine remorse.

You can see that he means every word he's telling you as he reaches out to comfort you and make sure you’re dealing with this situation the best you can. As you look into his sincere eyes, a wave of gratitude washes over you, knowing that his support is unwavering and is still in him.

Even after a decade, this man still looks out for you and honestly, really cares about you and your well-being. That’s something you don’t find too often anymore… A bond like this one is sacred and holds a lot of meaning

“Don’t be… I had to learn one way or another,” you naturally bicker back, “So now it’s done and out the way.” Shrugging your shoulders, but your right leg bounces rapidly from your anxiety of today. It’s starting to catch up to you and you’re not the only one to notice it.

Aaron doesn’t need to move his eyes to know what’s going on, he just knows. “Well, I’m gonna do your paperwork for you because you need to get home and sleep.” He leans forward with his hands folded together on his desk full of papers and folders. You try to protest but he’s not having any of it, he barks your name to stop your rambling protests - which works like always.

He stands up and moves to your right side, putting his hand out in front of you for you to take. You hesitantly place your hand in his, feeling a jolt of electricity run through you as he gently pulls you up from the seat. As you rise to your feet, there's an undeniable spark between the two of you, like there was back in college.

In that moment, time seems to stand still as you both lock eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that fleeting moment, you kiss him passionately, like you’ve been wanting to since you first laid eyes on him. Your hands naturally find their place on the back of his head, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails.

Aarons body reacting like yours; his hands finding their home on your hips and his tongue gliding its way to yours, itching to take over. It seems like he missed you just as much as you missed him, which you thought was virtually impossible.

But just like that, you stop. What am I doing? He’s my boss…I can’t be doin’ this. What the fuck?

You pull away hesitantly, Aaron sighing but doing the same as he takes one step backwards to give you space. At least he understands, even without words yet again. You open your mouth to say that you’re sorry and that you should’ve known better, but nothing comes out - practically speechless.

As Aaron's voice whispers, "Goodnight," the office feels heavy with unspoken emotions. His words are filled with both sincerity and sorrow, a reflection of the lingering sadness in his heart. You hesitate to walk away, feeling the weight of his feelings and the depth of his longing. It was clear that he struggled to hold back his emotions, for he had missed you the same as you did him.

Before leaving, you give him a smile you haven’t made since that last year in college and you know that he recognizes it. In that moment, you realized the depth of his feelings and the strength of his unspoken love. And as you leave his office, a mix of emotions wash over you, leaving you both yearning for a connection that seemed just out of reach.

—

As you sit in the comfort of your home, a couple hours after you got home and showered as much of the scum off of you as you could, and you still feel sick. Now you’re wrapped up in a soft blanket while Golden Girls plays on your tv in front of you, and a bottle of vodka that you take shots of here and there.

The weight of the case crushes down on you, just as Emily and Morgan had warned.

The image of the kids behind the fence, some with shock collars on, and the man slumped on the ground from your gun burns your retinas, you can’t escape it. The tears finally flow freely, a release long overdue. Something you haven’t been able to do and you thought you wouldn’t, but you are.

The first night back is always the toughest, Emily’s voice reminds you that this is normal, the silence echoing the chaos left behind.

The weight of the case you carry is supposed to hit you hard in the beginning - a reminder that you're only human. But you can’t grasp the idea of being able to kill a person without a second thought… Even though your life and others were in danger, it still seems invalid.

Setting down the glass bottle on the floor, you lay on your side with tears pooling on your pillow. The images on tv are all a blur, you can only hear the sounds of Dorthy and Sophia bickering about Stan. Your stomach twisting itself inside out and back again, your temples pounding, and your heart confused.

For multiple reasons.

Your brain flips from the indescribable memories from the case, to the unforgettable memories with Aaron in his office. The two things couldn’t be more different, it’s like comparing apples to bananas, it just can’t be done.

Emotions swirl within you, trying to find their place in the chaos. It’s hard to distinguish the good feelings from the bad ones right now, the line between them blurred by the weight of the situations. It feels like you should be more upset, more focused on the bad, but somewhere deep inside, a small spark of hope refuses to be extinguished.

As you lay your head down, exhaustion seeping through your bones, fighting the liquor that runs through your blood, a glimmer of hope flickers within you. Despite the battle within, you hold on to that fragile shard of optimism.

Maybe there can be a fix to the wound you have from him, maybe not. But what you do know is this; You are fit for this job and you will continue to be a part of the BAU.

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c0wb0yenthusiast · 11 months ago

Text

While you were sleeping

Part 1

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary : It’s Christmas Eve. You’re all alone at work until your ‘mystery man’ is pushed onto the train tracks. You save him and are now mistakingly thought of as his fiancée. For the rest of the holidays, the family seems to cling onto you. What do you do when you meet his seemingly cold and unwelcoming brother?

Word count : 3k

A/N : THIS CHAPTER DOESN’T CONTAIN A LOT OF AARON! Don’t sue me I’m just trying to set the story but attempted to add a little snippet at the end. So before anyone gets mad at me just remember there’s a thing called developing plot so don’t hate me please. Anyways I had fun writing this and part 2 will definitely be out soon!

It started off as a completely innocent activity.

Ogling the man who took the train to work everyday. He was lean, casual and relaxed with soft - as least, you thought it looked soft - straight, light brown hair which fell over his eyes if it was windy.

You’d sit back in your booth and think about a future with someone like him. Listening to the constant clatter as people slid their tokens through while you began to daydream. From the look of it, he seemed to be successful too.

He’d always smile at you too.

His smile brought out the creases in his eyes and his straight teeth. He was so perfect it was meant to be.

It was small and you may have been taking it too far, but he was so dreamy.

“Thanks.”

You could only melt on the inside as he walked off, his scarf trailing down his back as it had been lazily wrapped around his neck.

However, this would always distract you from punching other people’s tickets. You’d get a furious rap on the window with an angry businesswoman.

But that was fine for you. It was fine if it meant being able to catch glances of him.

It was a chilly December morning. The wind seemed to push against you as you made your way to work. It may have been due to the fact that it was Christmas Eve.

Your boss had managed to convince you to work holidays. Probably because you didn’t have anybody waiting at home for you. Except for the landlord’s son.

You can only wrap your scarf around you tighter while you clasp onto your sandwich. You were nearly there.

The booth was slightly warmer than outside, with only your chair and table greeting you as you got yourself comfortable.

Here you were - working on Christmas Eve while everyone else were probably bundled in blankets and sipping hot chocolate with their families.

Listlessly staring into the glass barrier, you admire the blanket of snow which the city had been showered in. It just seemed to show that everybody was connected or all together.

Apart from you.

You settled in your chair, turning a token between your fingers slowly.

Before he came up to the booth.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” He smiled, tapping on the barrier.

You instantly looked up to meet his eye which made you falter at his piercing gaze.

He was wearing his long, dark jacket but a knitted red scarf was slung around his shoulders. His hair fell over his eyes as he looked down at you, sliding his token in the little gap.

Underneath his jacket, you could spot your favourite suit - rich navy blue blazer and a clean, pressed shirt which brought out his light eyes. His buttons were a beautiful mix of brown and amber, sewn neatly onto his jacket which was half buttoned. He was careless in such a fashionable way

You look up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

This was the most he’s ever said to you.

“Uh-“

He’d already walked off and was waiting happily for his train.

You looked like an idiot - frozen in action. Your jaw almost hanging open at the sheer embarrassment.

Nobody else was at the station or by your booth, so you took the opportunity to ogle your mystery man once more.

He stood idly, checking his watch and clutching his briefcase in his hand. Was he going to work? Was he visiting family?

While you imagined a future with him in 10 years, it suddenly came to your attention that a couple of men were now standing by him.

They hadn’t put a token in, what were they doing?

You squint in an attempt to catch a better look while being blocked by the glass barrier, you could faintly hear their conversation.

“Hey, nice jacket.” The tallest one approached him closely, he was most likely the ringleader.

“Must be expensive.” Another chirped in.

It happened so fast.

Before he could even respond, they’d taken the opportunity to shove him onto the tracks.

He fell face first, his briefcase dropping from his hand as he fell.

They immediately ran off, urging you to do something, anything.

You jumped out of your chair, dashing out of your booth and now standing on the spot where your beautiful stranger had been pushed.

He lay limply on the tracks.

He’d been knocked unconscious.

You couldn’t see his face but you knew it was bad. He could’ve hit his nose, or even broken a tooth.

Without even thinking you lowered yourself down cautiously next to him and turned him over with some effort.

You tried to think of a way to capture his attention or even wake him up, but his bloody nose and parted lips were making your mind race.

“Sir- sir? Sir!” You kept repeating over and over, using an arm to tilt him towards you.

Blood was now dripping down his face and you couldn’t contain your distress.

“Somebody help me! Please- sir!” Another hand was now stroking his cheek. You needed him to wake up.

He couldn’t leave you here on the tracks like this.

You never even got to know his name.

That was when you heard it.

As you were lamenting, the muffled sound of a horn could be heard through your panicked cries.

Still holding onto him tightly, you look up.

It’s a train coming your way.

“Sir! Sir, there’s a train… and- and it’s really fast and I don’t think it can stop for us.. please wake up.” You added, pleading with this unconscious man as the silhouette grew larger and larger out of the corner of your eye.

He really wasn’t going to wake up; he sure was stubborn.

He was too heavy to drag up onto the platform, but you’d just spotted a small nook to hide in.

With no time to consider your chances, you laid with him and rolled into the small corner. You were holding onto his expensive jacket like it was your own life force as the horn was now blearing through your ears.

Your face was pressed against his chest, your eyes shut tightly as if that would alleviate any of the pain you could’ve felt if the train had hit the two of you.

He really seemed like a successful man. Even his cologne smelled good.

The train came to a halt at your station and concerned passengers were now wandering mindlessly to find a way to help you.

You could only hold onto your dream man and anticipate what would happen next.

It was all such a rush you never understood how you’d handled it so well. It was probably all the adrenaline.

You were whisked away in an ambulance with him lying on the stretcher. As you sat with a professional in the back, you’d steal glances of him from time to time. You never thought this could happen.

They’d managed to clean you up fairly quickly but kept you in the hospital waiting room for the authorities.

You’d been sitting for around twenty minutes, holding onto his scarf that had been separated from him in the frantic rush to put him on the stretcher.

Was he going to be okay? Was this your fault? Were you going to be arrested?

All these questions bubbled in your head and were slowly beginning to rise. If you didn’t talk to someone soon, you might explode.

Suddenly, you spot him being wheeled in another stretcher through the glass doors.

Surely they had to let you see him. You needed to know if he was okay, especially since you’d saved his life.

You got up and pushed the door open, about to follow him and the group of doctors wheeling him but was met by another doctor.

“Sorry, only family are permitted to visit-“

“Oh, but-“

“Are you family?”

“Well, no..”

“Then you need to stay here, please.” He added, but there was no sincerity in his tone as he guided you back into the waiting room, just outside the forbidden door you’d just entered.

You couldn’t stand by and let your dream man be whisked away once more. You needed to see him.

Clutching the scarf tighter, you could feel the pain growing. If you’d actually tried, you could have possibly had a future with him. Maybe if you were actually social-

“God… I was going to marry him..” you whisper, holding a yearning hand up to the door.

This was the moment when your whole life was absolutely flipped upside down.

A nurse frantically rushed up to you.

“Dear, is that- do you need to see him? Are they not letting you inside?”

You look up at her, but her glare is urging you to stand up and look back at the doors.”

“Yeah.. it’s.. it’s fine though.”

“It’s not! They shouldn’t be doing that.”

She took your arm and guided you through the doors once more. The corridor was empty as the two of you walked down; it seemed to be never ending.

“Your man is right… here. I believe this is the room he’d been assigned to, dear.” She taps her clipboard while she smiles and waits by the door.

“Oh.. thank you.” You smile back. This is all quite overwhelming for Christmas Eve, probably more exciting than any of your previous years.

You push the door open gently, examining him while he slept. He seems calm enough, a brace was now placed on his nose and he wasn’t bleeding anymore.

His scarf settles in your arms as you take a seat next to him.

You need a minute to take in the way his hair is mussed and how peaceful he seems to look.

“Hi..” you murmur, shuffling closer.

You were planning to just apologise to him, speak to the authorities and move on to your life.

Maybe he would be able to hear this all in his sleep.

“It’s uhm.. it’s me. You got pushed onto the train tracks..” you chuckle, but quickly stop yourself.

“I didn’t find that funny.. I just thought it’s quite a coincidence for Christmas Eve. It sort of set us up together.” Your voice was coming out much smoother and softer as you got rather comfortable with your mystery man.

“I’m sorry you have to spend Christmas Eve like this.”

Suddenly, the door almost burst open with the group of people now entering. An ocean of voices flooded the room, overlapping each other and growing in volume.

“Sean! What happened to Sean!”

“He’s right there, why don’t you ask him?”

“He’s sleeping, can’t you see?”

“Stop arguing!”

They all stop abruptly, now turning to look at you in unison. You’ve never seen a family so connected.

The group contained two elderly men, an old woman and a man in his early 20s.

“Who are you?” The younger man cocked a brow.

What you didn’t notice was the doctor who refused your entry had gathered them here.

He came to the front of the group, pointing an agitated finger at you.

“I thought I told you-“

“She is family! She is his fiancée!”

They all seemed to quiet down at the nurse’s sudden interruption. Even you were startled, you didn’t realise she’d stayed.

“Sean has a fiancée?”

“It’s been a couple of years..”

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us!”

“She could’ve been a mistress-“

You stood up quickly, gathering your coat. This was all too much for you.

“I- I should go..”

“Nonsense!” The old woman stood in front of you and continued, “Sean may have wanted to surprise us!”

“He’s already surprised us enough today…”, one of the men grumbled.

The other three men nodded and murmured amongst themselves, most likely doubtful.

You couldn’t say no; she seemed so definite that you might as well be his fiancée now.

“We’re so sorry for being so ignorant, honey. It’s just that Sean never let us know he had a fiancée..” she put her hands on your shoulders fondly, smiling.

“It’s.. it’s okay.”

“What would Aaron say?” The youngest seemed much more panicked than the rest, probably solely focused on Sean in the hospital bed.

Who’s Aaron?

Like a Greek chorus, they moved together in a flock as they surrounded Sean’s bed. You followed slowly, standing a couple of inches behind them as they examined his current situation.

“My poor boy..”, the woman - presumably his mother - sniffed and held onto one of the men.

“What happened to him?”

“Coma. He got pushed onto the train tracks.” The nurse was now standing by them, gesturing to her clipboard.

You were too busy mapping out who his potential family were in your head.

“He’s not dead, honey. He’ll make it..”, the husband added reassuringly.

“Let’s leave soon before everyone bursts into tears. Sean would want us to stop feeling sorry him.” The other old man patted the young boys back and nodded to you.

That was your cue to leave.

Or so you thought.

In the waiting room, the boy wandered off around the corner to the vending machines. It was just you and the old man.

“Come. Sit with me.” He gestured to the chair in front of him.

You obliged, trying to be polite as he now thought you were going to be bound legally due to marriage soon anyway.

“You feeling okay?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine.”

“It must’ve been quite stressful. Saving Sean from an oncoming train.”

“It was definitely.. something.”

“How long have the two of you been together?”

You paused. When did you first see him? When was the first time you were graced by his smile and clean suits?

“June. It was a Monday.” You smiled fondly at the memory.

Beneath your daydreams, doubts were lurking in the back of your mind. Why were you going along with this?

“So.. around 7 months? Pretty quick for an engagement. He never told us about you.”

“Yeah.. yeah..”

He was about to ask another question, but the rest of the family were now approaching swiftly and took seats in the chairs around the two of you.

The mother sat next to you, smiling up at you admirably.

“You went onto train tracks for my boy. God, thank you!” She sniffed again and flung her frail arms around you.

You almost flinched at the sudden movement but accepted her embrace awkwardly.

“Thanks.. I’m just thankful that he wasn’t injured severely.”

“And she’s humble too! Sean really found himself a rose in a bundle of thorns.” The husband commented, grinning.

This was all becoming far too much for you. It was Christmas Eve - you should’ve been sitting at home, swirling a mug of hot chocolate in your hands and enjoying watching your cat play with the new toy you bought him.

You shouldn’t be in the hospital surrounded by strangers that now believe you’re engaged to your mystery man.

Sean. That was his name.

He’s no longer your mystery man, is he? He was your fiancé now and there was nothing you could do to get yourself out of this predicament.

They talked amongst themselves, sharing fond memories of Sean. Some of them included ‘Aaron’, who you still hadn’t met.

After 10 minutes or so, the mother turned to you.

“Dear, we were all wondering.. since Christmas Eve has been such a disaster..” she sighed and sniffed again, “Would you like to join us for Christmas? It’ll just be a small celebration, but we all think it’s so unfair we haven’t been able to introduce you to any of the family traditions. Right?”

She looked at everyone else, who all nodded enthusiastically. They all seemed to be sold on you being Sean’s fiancée, so why not go with it?

It was evening now, the sun had set much earlier and darkness shrouded the house.

They had refused to leave you alone in an attempt to make you feel happier concerning the situation at the moment. It wasn’t working.

You weren’t his fiancée and it seemed to be eating you alive. You can’t tell them now, they seem to like you so much already!

You’re sitting on the porch, staring out into the darkness. It’s chilly but you got to borrow one of Sean’s coats he’d left at his childhood house, you wrap it around yourself tightly and embrace the faint scent of cologne as you find solace in the eerie silence.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate what they’ve doing for you. It’s just all quite overwhelming for one day.

You’re only one person, you don’t think you can handle it all.

You exhale shakily, folding your arms over your chest to try and block out any breeze.

That’s when you see it.

A car pulls up in front of the house. It’s a nice one - shiny and expensive. You contemplate going inside but decide it’s probably no threat.

Then, a tall man encased in a long, black coat begins to walk up to the porch.

He’s refined, smooth and carries a sense of power. However, it seems to fade as he walks up the pavement. He’s less tense at the sight of the warm aura and bright light escaping from the inside and shining onto the frozen grass that he steps on.

Every ounce of friendliness leaves as soon as he comes face to face with you.

He stops abruptly, looking down at you with a cocked brow.

“Who are you?”

Before you can open your mouth, the door swings open and Mrs Hotchner rushes towards him.

“Aaron, we didn’t think you’d make it! It’s so good to see you, honey!” She cried, flinging her arms around him.

“Always a pleasure to see you, mother.” He replies, patting her back gently but not tearing his eyes off of you.

You shrink a little at his piercing gaze. It’s like he’s slowly peeling back the layers of your character, examining all of your features and trying to determine how to feel about you. Maybe you’re looking into it too harshly.

He just doesn’t know you yet.

And by the looks of it, he’ll get to know soon.

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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago

Text

Glorious Happenings of Happenstance

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: mild smut

Summary: You get Aaron to accompany you to a wedding. It's the only night you have together, so you might as well make the most of it. Right? (as requested by Aaron deficiency anon)

-------

You hate your brother.

You don’t, really, you just dislike him right now, dragging your whole family to Boston for a wedding a week before you were supposed to be starting your new job. It was always like that with you two, push and pull, a constant game of tug and war of who was going to outdo the other one. You got the prestigious job but he was getting married. Young - like all the army rats. Dumb. Stupid. It wouldn’t last. But whatever. The hotel is nice, and you managed to escape your future sister-in-law’s bachelorette plans to get a drink at the bar by yourself. Never mind the fact she couldn’t legally drink and neither could your brother. Stupid. Very stupid.

But your parents made it known your input was unwanted and uncalled for so you kept your mouth shut. Maybe you could just be inebriated this whole weekend. God forbid someone tries to talk him out of one of the worst mistakes of his life.

You order a mojito because you’ve been sweltering in the humidity of the Boston summer, but then… you think maybe you won’t need to be drunk on liquor as you see a tall man with jet-black hair sit down on your right, leaving a few empty seats between the two of you. He looks authoritative; like people listen when he speaks; like he could command a room without so much as whispering. He’s too old for you, but fuck it, if your parents had nothing to say about your brother getting married the second he turned eighteen, they can’t say shit about who you end up with.

But still. You’re not staying in Massachusetts, and from the looks of him, you doubt he is either. He must be here on business, still dressed in black dress slacks and a suit jacket in the heat, never mind that it’s almost 10 pm. Although, who knows? Lots of suit types around, although not necessarily in hotel bars.

He orders something strong on the rocks, sipping slowly at the amber liquid. You eye his hand on the glass... and god. It dwarfs it, making it look tiny wrapped in his long fingers.

You bite your lip and turn away, sipping cautiously at your own drink. You weren’t thinking about meeting anyone here, anyway. You sweat off most of your makeup this morning driving to the hotel and your hair was a frizzy mess, soaking up all the moisture from the air it could get. You needed a shower. You just wanted a few drinks alone before turning in for the night. Right?

You’d never had a one-night stand yourself. You didn’t know how those worked, and you thought emotional entanglements before starting as an FBI agent, however brief they were… wouldn’t exactly be a good start to your career. You didn’t want to be missing him, waiting for calls that never came.

Jesus. You need to get a grip. You haven’t said a word to this man. You don’t even know his name.

Scanning him over again, you drink in his dark hair and eyes, thick eyebrows, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders. You’re not being exactly subtle in checking him out as you start to feel the effects of the alcohol loosening you up a little.

So you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are that he catches you.

Aaron noticed you when he walked into the bar, but he deduced that you were tired and wanted to be left alone. A woman alone in a hotel bar that clearly wasn’t here on work, clad in a sundress… you were here to deal with something. Fight with a lover, family member, or friend - someone you were on vacation with. You didn’t want company. And neither did he, really. But now that your eyes met, he feels like you look so familiar, and yet he can’t quite figure out why. You give a small, shy smile and you slide down the few bar stools and tell him your name.

“I’m Aaron,” he responds, using his first instead of his last name to introduce himself. A rarity. You’ve got to be twenty years his junior. Nothing can come of this, he tells himself, trying to ignore the thin strap of your dress that was falling off your shoulder.

“You here for the wedding?” you ask, hopeful that maybe he was some long-distance relative of your brother’s fiancée, that you would somehow be able to run into him again. Celebrate the inevitable divorce.

“Wedding? No,” he answers, eyebrows raising a little in surprise.

Damn it. Couldn’t be so lucky.

“Who’s getting married?” he asks.

“My brother,” you answer.

“Shouldn’t you know who’s in the wedding party, then?” he asks, giving you a small smile, just wide enough to see the hints of dimples on his cheeks.

God. You were half in love with him already.

“I don’t know her side,” you answer, smiling back.

“They haven’t been together long?”

“Nope. Guess.”

“How long? I don’t know. Six months.”

“You think that’s short? Try four,” you say. “He’s going into the army. Straight out of high school. And no, she’s not pregnant.”

“You don’t sound like you approve,” he observes.

“Would you?”

“I don’t know. Stranger things have worked out.”

“I’ve never seen high school sweethearts stay together. And if they do… they’re usually not happy.”

“You’re barely out of high school yourself.”

“I’m 25!”

“Proving my point,” he says, smiling again. “I married my high school sweetheart.”

“I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger,” you point out.

“No. You don’t,” he sighs, taking a swig of his whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately apologize, hating yourself for your lack of filter. “I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” he cuts off your apology. “I invited the observation. We… we wanted different things.”

“Isn’t that the way shit always ends?”

Aaron nods, swallowing down the rest of his drink. “What about you? Are you against all marriages or just the shotgun ones?”

“Mostly just those, but I don’t know. I really don’t see the benefit at all,” you shrug.

“Right. So jaded in your old age,” he quips.

You giggle, shaking your head. “I’ll buy the next round?” you offer tentatively.

“I believe it’s the other way around,” he says, flagging down the bartender before you could and adding your next drink to his tab.

You try and fail to ignore the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “There’s always tax breaks.”

“What?” you ask, caught off guard by his out-of-context statement.

“Filing as married. Tax breaks,” Aaron clarifies.

“Yeah. Health insurance, too. Or, you know, not having to live in the barracks.”

“The joys of marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “How romantic. Spare me. Please.”

“No one’s tying you down, hmm?”

“No,” you say, but you give him a lilting smile, one you hope dares him to try.

“Fair enough.”

“What brings you out here, then, if it’s not to be my plus one to this sham of a wedding?”

“Work,” he replies. “Giving a conference at a college nearby.”

“You don’t have time to come in between?”

You don’t know why you’re inviting him. You don’t want him to meet your family, not like this, anyway. You don’t want to lead him on. It’s the alcohol, maybe, loosening your lips.

“I think your parents would kill me,” Aaron says firmly.

“Right. If they don’t care what my brother does, they shouldn’t care what I do. Bringing you to the wedding would be marginally less stupid than actually getting married.”

He sighs your name, shaking his head. “I can’t in good conscience agree to that.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll never see you again after this.”

“So?” you shrug.

“I don’t intend on starting something I can’t finish,” he says lowly, and you wonder… is that flirting? Is that what he’s doing?

“Fair enough,” you concede. “A little bit too much pressure for something that’s destined to go nowhere.”

“You’re not from here, either?”

“I’m moving for my job,” you tell him.

“Which is?”

You laugh and shake your head. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” he says, smiling against the glass as he lifts it to his mouth. “CIA?”

“You’re serious,” you say, incredulous. “You actually believe I’m joining the CIA?”

“You’ve got a talent for holding a conversation without saying anything,” he points out.

“Takes one to know one,” you shoot back, realizing all you really learned about him was his first name and that he was married and now divorced.

He shrugs. “Good quality to have if for whatever reason you need to go undercover. Also, good quality to have when you’re in possession of vital, secret information. Something to think about.”

“You want to refer me?”

“Smooth,” he grins. “Nice deflection.”

“I’m most certainly not joining the CIA, Aaron, but if that’s what you’d like to follow you around in your fantasies of me, be my guest,” you smile back.

“Fantasies?”

“Since nothing can come of this. All we’re left with, right?”

“It’s a conversation in a bar. Those end two ways. Three, actually.”

“Which are?”

“The people involved in the conversation get a room. Or they leave and never speak again. Or… provided one is a CIA agent and on a covert operation, she may in fact kill the man involved.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but laugh anyway. Maybe it’s the alcohol loosening him up a bit, you don’t know, but you get the feeling he’s not often like this.

“I’m beginning to think you’re paranoid, now. What do they want you for?”

“Some light treason, probably,” he snarks.

You’re not drunk enough that the beginning of his earlier remark escapes you, though. “I take it a room isn’t in the cards for us?”

Looking at you apologetically, he whispers your name before shaking his head. “It’s not fair to either of us. Some people can live their lives like that… but I can’t. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m sorry. I’m not the man you need tonight.”

Oh, but he is.

You hang your head, blushing. “I’m not… I don’t usually do this, either. I just figured…”

“It’s not because I don’t find you attractive,” he reassures you. “I just…can’t lead you on when I know it can’t last.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you say, nodding. “There is a fourth way this can end, though.”

“Yeah? I’m all ears.”

“I see you tomorrow,” you grin, downing the rest of your drink. “You’ll still be around.”

And with that, you stand up, kiss his cheek, and you walk out of that bar. And you don’t look back to see his reaction no matter how much you want to.

You know he’s bad news. You know he won’t show up. You know he’s absolutely right, and an attractive man like that must have been through a series of one-night stands after his wife left or he left her and realized they just left him hollow. Didn’t fill the void she left.

He didn’t want you to add to that chapter in his life. And you can’t blame him. You’d be a toxic end to that book if there ever was one.

————-

So when you see Aaron through the windows, who lost the suit jacket, finally, hanging outside of the wedding reception, you think you’re going insane. Hallucinating. Having an out-of-body experience or something.

He was too old to be playing games. Why was he here, hanging on the outskirts like this? It’s not like he was trying to get your attention. You were having a conversation with your cousin who was praying she caught the bouquet, and when you eyed him, you told her that you need some air.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you say, stepping out of the stuffy reception hall into the cooler night air. “Or out. Not enough balls to actually crash it?”

“I… well. I suppose I’ve been caught,” he says sheepishly, and if the lighting out here wasn’t so bad you’d swear you saw him blushing. “You look beautiful.”

Maybe you do look good, or at least better than the bar last night. You settled on a maroon one-shouldered dress that clung to your curves, paired it with black-heeled sandals and you managed to get your hands on waterproof mascara and eyeliner to beat the humidity.

“Why are you here?”

“It was the fourth option.”

“We’ve reached an impasse, though.”

“We’re down to three options, again,” Aaron nods. “I realized it was prolonging the inevitable.”

“It’s two, Aaron. Room or no room,” you say, a little tense. “There’s no inevitable. There’s just now. You showed up. You showed up now.”

He scoffs, stepping a little closer to you. “You don’t even believe that. All you think about is the future. You think your brother and his wife are destined to divorce so they shouldn’t get married. Why should we start something when we know it’s going to end? That’s what this whole week was predicated on for you. Inevitability. And trying to avoid it and get others to avoid it as well. It’s your whole anti-marriage stance. Why should anyone start what they can’t finish? Right? Why bother with any of it? Why come on to me at all? One day someone is going to leave, by choice or by circumstance.”

“You showed up,” you say again. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Aaron. You don’t know shit about me. You said so yourself last night.”

“No. I don’t know your last name or your favorite color or what your major in college was. But I know that you’re afraid.”

“Everyone’s afraid,” you shoot back. “You showed up. Why?”

“I… I wanted to see you again. It’s different now. It’s not a conversation in a bar anymore. It’s two people outside of a wedding.”

“Why see me again? Wasn’t the point of not starting to avoid hurting? Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of? Pain? We spend our whole lives trying to outrun it. You don’t like one night stands because they hurt. Because they leave you empty. Because they make you wonder and worry about the what-ifs and the consequences.”

Aaron shakes his head. “It’s not just about that. I thought about this. About us. If we only have the night… I want to do it right. I want to spend it with you.”

“Not in me?” you quip, smirking.

He says your name in a warning tone. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” you laugh. “I take it you’ll actually crash now?”

“Yes,” he nods, looking at you intensely. “I hope you can dance.”

“Dancing’s a dangerous game,” you tease. “Could quickly lead to other things.”

“Not in a room full of your family.”

“You’re a little tapped, huh?” you ask, grinning.

“Tapped?”

“Fucked in the head.”

He shrugs. “We have one night. I want it. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it, Aaron,” you say, and lead him back through the glass doors of the hall. “You’ll quickly find I’m just as fucked.”

“I think I already knew that,” he chuckles lowly, taking your hand in his.

What kind of man agrees to this? You’ve had boyfriends you’ve had to fight with to meet your family in the first place, and here’s this man, all set to attend a full-blown wedding with your entire extended family. Maybe you didn’t care if it was long-distance at the end of tonight. He seems like a keeper.

Your brother eyes you from where he stands at the altar. You smile and shake your head, ushering Aaron into the back row with you. You didn’t exactly feel like you needed front-row seats for this.

His future wife, Crystal, she’s pretty, with olive skin, kind brown eyes, and curly black hair, but you’re still just taken aback by how young they are, how your brother will be selling his body and soul for the military in weeks and she’s coming along for the ride. Young love. You remember your first, the neighbor next door, a little older than you. Like everyone with their first love, you swore you’d marry him one day.

But you didn’t.

And you were better off.

Vows spoken. Rings traded. You almost tear up a little, given your recent fight with your mother about this, her saying she was glad at least one of her kids was getting married, that maybe she did have the hope of grandchildren someday. And it’s not fair, not really, to put that kind of pressure on you. You were career-oriented. You were never going to be the kind of woman who easily submit, who did what a man said, who took his last name and gave up the one you used for decades. You were never going to be a woman like Crystal, even when you were younger, and would do just about anything for male validation. Something in your brain was wired to be contradictory when someone tried to box you in.

How can you speak meaningful vows with someone you barely knew? You hear your brother spout something about love and eternal happiness, in sickness and in health, and it’s so easy to promise that when all you’ve seen is their good days.

You don’t have a traumatic background. You just know people leave. And you have always tried to never let yourself be in a vulnerable position. Even here, Aaron is the one who’s got less of a leg to stand on. Sure, his being here was going to lead to some awkward conversations with your relatives, but they were your relatives. He was the one out of place.

Your aunt turns around after the ceremony ends to say something to you, but she stops short upon catching Aaron’s eyes. So it begins.

“Who’s this?” she asks.

“My hooker for the night,” you tell her, deadpan, staring at your nails like you’re uninterested, and it’s so hard not to break out into a smile when you see Aaron blushing in your peripheral, sputtering and trying to come up with an excuse as to why he is sitting next to you other than being a sex worker.

You take it he’s never been with a woman like you before.

And at first, you disliked the odds stacked against you, but now you’re realizing how much fun you can have with this. There’s no need to hide your true colors because you’re both leaving at the end of the night anyway. You can be as unhinged as you want. No reason to play it up, make it out like you’re someone you’re not just so he might ask you out again… because this is it. Lowkey. No pressure.

“Don’t worry, honey, she’s always been like that,” your aunt reassures him, patting his shoulder gently. “Although if you really are a hooker, I’ll take your business card. You’re good-looking and you’ll be a plus one? A dream.”

“I assure you, I’m not a hooker, ma’am,” Aaron denies quickly, stoically.

“That’s what they all say,” you quip back. “Remember how much I’m paying you.”

If looks could kill, you’d be bleeding from a thousand stab wounds right now. But you were having fun, more fun than you’d had with a man in a long time.

“You’re not cute,” he whispers in your ear when your aunt turns back around.

“You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you thought that,” you retort, starting to feel a little hot under your dress at his lips so close to your skin. “Besides, you should be gloating right now. You’re so attractive that my aunt thinks women would pay you to have sex with them.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I should be jumping for joy at that,” he says sarcastically.

“Exactly,” you nod, smirking at him, taking his snark seriously. “Relax. One night, right? Even if you make a complete ass out of yourself, this is it.”

“Yeah.”

“When’s the last time you had a good time, Aaron?” you ask suddenly. “No strings attached, good time? Because fine. I don’t know your last name or your major in college or your favorite color either. But if I’m afraid, you’re miserable. You need to let loose. You came here for a reason. I can at least give you that.”

“I just don’t want—“

“Them to think you’re a hooker? Please. First of all, I’m the most frugal bitch alive. They know I didn’t actually pay you to be here or to dick me down later. No one will believe that. And again, Aaron, what the fuck do you care what they believe? They’re never going to see you again. And we’re at a sham of a wedding to top it all off. So… live a little. Have a good time. Tell me some stupid jokes. Dance with me. Have a couple of drinks. And let it go. Whatever baggage you have does not exist in this room if whatever fears I have aren’t supposed to either.”

“You make a good case,” he mutters.

“I know I do,” you grin, pressing your lips to kiss right behind the ear you were whispering in, marveling at how quickly his skin flushes red at your touch.

Both of you stop talking for a moment as the first dance starts, and the couples slowly start to head to the dance floor. “Lover” by Taylor Swift, Crystal’s choice, you guess; and you can’t help but think it’s a funny one. A love song, sure, but almost a cop-out of marriage if there ever was one. “I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover”… but not my husband. Backing away from the thought of forever commitment. I want all your summers but not your last name or your ring on my finger. Nothing to symbolize it, tie me to it.

“Can I have this dance?” Aaron asks you, and you wonder if he’s secretly a masochist. Maybe he likes to be teased and kept on edge.

You nod, though, and let him lead you out into the dance floor to join the other couples.

“Keeping enough room for Jesus?” you tease, looking down at the space between your bodies.

Scoffing, he pulls you closer by the waist, so there are millimeters of space between your bodies now, and you feel your face heat up as his hands stay on the small of your back. “Happy?”

“Happier,” you concede. “How do you know how to dance?”

“I was married before,” he reminds you. “It doesn’t seem like you know how, though.”

“Hmm?” you question, glaring at him.

“Your hands go on my shoulders. Or around my neck.”

“I knew that,” you mutter, placing your hands on his shoulders tentatively, catching his dark brown eyes with yours, shuddering at the intensity he was looking at you with. Taylor Swift continues to croon her undying love and you stare at this man, at this moment in your lifetime, fading away as you’re holding him close, swaying slowly to the music.

Love at first sight doesn’t exist. You rationalized that all away ages ago. Lust, sure. Lust is common, ordinary, every day.

But you know what lust looks like. It’s predatory looks from men across a dusky bar room or it’s wide-eyes, pupils-dilated, unbridled passion, kiss-bruised lips. But you weren’t getting any of that from the way he was looking at you.

And you know you’re going to see those eyes in your dreams, eyes you can glean pain from, eyes trying to reach the depths of your soul to see where you buried your hurt to rest too. Understand you, not the things you tell people when you make small talk like your college major or your favorite color but the things you tell people when they want to get to know you like your stance on God or presidential candidates or… marriage.

You don’t know where the hesitancy came from, all of a sudden, but it’s the intensity of his eyes and the heat radiating from his body and the lights are lower and the song is ending and you’re inching your face toward his and you’re not sure who touched their lips to whose first but his mouth is on yours now, and his eyes finally close. You watch them flutter close, long eyelashes brushing against yours as he lets himself envelop you without a word. You’ve never been kissed like this, so feather-light and without a hint of urgency, like he’s taking his time, like he’ll take the entire wedding reception to explore every square centimeter of your mouth with his own. Being you, though, you don’t have the patience for that, and you bring your hands from his shoulders to clasp around the back of his neck and you get the intensity you crave, parting his lips with your tongue, closing your eyes too, feeling his soft black hair brushing against the sides of your wrists and your bodies are pressed so close and you could get lost here, couldn’t you? - but then you feel someone tap your shoulder, and you break away from him with a squeal.

“Who is this that you’re sucking face with? I’ve never seen him before,” your mother says as you turn around.

“Ask Aunt Linda,” you laugh, trying to regain your composure. “I was enjoying myself.”

“Clearly,” she says, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Is this some kind of protest?”

“No, his name is Aaron. Aaron, this is my mother,” you say.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he says, reaching out his hand for her to shake, smiling with his dimples in a way you’re sure made his ex-in-laws fall in love with him.

She reciprocates, but she shakes her head at the same time. “I’d prefer to have met you before you were wearing my daughter’s lipstick.”

“We can’t always get what we want,” you grin at your mother. “I think it suits him, anyway.”

“Of course you do,” she says. “Why didn’t you mention you were bringing a date?”

You shrug. “Just kind of happened. Like. You know. The wedding.”

“Oh. So this is a protest. I apologize, Aaron, for you being a part of her juvenile scheme.”

“It’s really not a bother. She’s a pleasure to be around,” he grins.

Your mother laughs. “You two really did just meet, huh? You have no idea.”

“Not very nice, Mom. Don’t scare him away. Maybe I can make this a joint wedding.”

“Hell would freeze over before you get married, darling,” she says, squeezing your shoulder. “Well. Have a good time. But please keep your hands off each other. We’ve got both sets of your grandparents here and we don’t need to be sending anyone into cardiac arrest.”

“Right, Mom,” you say, rolling your eyes as she walks away.

“I see where you get all of it from,” Aaron chuckles softly.

“I see you’re a major kiss-ass even if you’re never going to see my mom again,” you retort, stepping closer to him again.

“No harm in being polite.”

“That wasn’t just polite. That was being a kiss-ass. And you still have lipstick all over your mouth.”

Then you feel his mouth on you again, soft, thorough, warm. “Did I get it?” he asks, still smiling at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, then use the advantage you have to hold his face there and pepper kisses across his face, leaving red marks in the shape of you across his skin before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, kissing your mouth again, letting you take the lead again, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto your shoulders like your sand slipping through his fingers.

Because you are.

“I’m going to need to clean this off before I have to meet your father,” Aaron says, laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

Aaron doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, and he feels like he can’t recognize the man looking at him in the mirror, red lipstick smeared across his face, a seemingly permanent blush on his cheeks blending in with it. The cold water helps cool him down some, but then he thinks about you again, all smirks and quick remarks and the way you read him like a book… and he’s on fire again.

There’s no point in asking you where you’re moving. Even if it’s somewhere feasible to travel, his life and work schedule isn’t something he’d want to burden another woman with.

One night. No expectations except for a good time. That he could do, even if it was for a borderline child wedding not unlike the one he had over a decade ago.

Walking back out he sees you, eyes intense and smile lines formed at their corners as you talked to your brother, glass of champagne in your hand. “Oh, this is Aaron,” you tell him, your hand on Aaron’s back as he reaches you.

“Congratulations,” Aaron says, nodding at him.

“Thanks, man. Where the hell did you come from, though?”

“That’s my secret,” you say, grinning. “You don’t get to know.”

“Is this one going to last?”

“Doubt it,” you shrug. “Is yours?”

“Stop it,” he says, glaring at you. “I know you think I’m making a mistake. It’s already done. I don’t want to hear it anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

“At least I can keep a relationship longer than four months.”

“It hasn’t really been that much longer,” you counter.

“Well, I proposed instead of ending it.”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning in for a side hug. “I don’t want to argue either. Go be with Crystal.”

Your brother nods, taking the hint the conversation was over, and Aaron takes the opportunity to sit down with you at one of the tables. “Is this common for you?”

“What? Taking men I don’t know to weddings? Far as I know you’re only one lucky enough,” you say tersely.

“I meant… relationships.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I try men on like I try on clothes. I’m a slut. Is that what you’re trying to get at?”

“No, not at all.”

You shake your head, sipping at the champagne and making a face at it, laughing at the acrid taste and handing it to him. “You can have that.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Aaron says calmly, taking the glass from you, and drinking from it slowly. “There’s nothing wrong with this. It’s good champagne.”

“It tastes like ass,” you laugh, then frown. “You didn’t offend me. Yeah. I’ve had issues with relationships. No secret there. A normal, sane girl wouldn’t have asked you to come here, no offense.”

“A normal, sane man wouldn’t have said yes,” he replies, smiling, squeezing your hand that rested on the table. “Relationship issues are normal. No one in this room or in this city or on this planet has it figured out.”

“Did anyone try to stop you from getting married?” you ask him.

“Her mother wasn’t happy,” he recalls. “My parents figured I would figure it out. We were together through most of high school.”

“But you don’t know at that age.”

“No,” he agrees. “You don’t. Either they’ll be lucky and grow together or they’ll be unlucky and grow apart. But you don’t know unless you try.”

“The odds are—"

“They know that. I knew that. I still wanted to try anyway.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” Aaron admits. “Sometimes I do. I gave her a lot of years, and some of them weren’t good. A lot of them weren’t good, actually, a lot of strain and arguing and worrying about who she was seeing while I was away. But… I don’t know. You live and you learn.”

“Sometimes you do know,” you say sadly.

“Sometimes you try anyway,” he responds, bringing your hand to his lips.

You blink back tears and nod. One night. You can cry later.

Thankfully, the song changes to Cotton Eyed Joe; something ridiculous and impossible to stay down in the dumps for. Aaron glares at you but concedes when you give him a pleading look and you’re able to get him out on the floor to teach him this dance. He looks insane, what you can only imagine as a normally uptight, repressed man learning choreography from you for a novelty song.

Breathless and laughing he kisses you. Again. Again. Again. You don’t care about your mother’s warning and you’re glad he doesn’t either. You get the feeling he’s not one to embrace PDA like this either, but it’s one night for his mouth to be on yours, and the impression he leaves on your parents isn’t going to matter in a couple of hours anyway.

You think you’ll get whiplash from this setlist, the way it switches from upbeat to hopelessly sentimental, but Aaron rolls with the switches, pulling you back to him, swaying you gently to ‘Fade into You’. Resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, you breathe him in. The woodsy scent of his cologne. The slight musk of his sweat. You feel his mouth press a long kiss against the top of your head.

And that’s how it ends, bringing you into a long hug at the trunk of your car the next morning, everything you own behind you. Both of you leaving this city. Heading home. You don’t talk about it. You don’t mention to him that you’d like to see him again. You don’t say anything.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” he says quietly, looking up at the sky, the clouds moving quickly overhead, threatening rain.

“Aaron, don’t,” you mutter. “We knew.”

“I know.”

Who do you get mad at for this? When it’s no one’s fault? God? Fate? The universe?

——------

Who do you thank for this? God? Fate? The Universe?

You walk into your new workplace, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Gideon, who you interviewed with last week leads you through the building, giving you your badge, gun, and security clearance. It must be counterfeit. No one is this lucky.

Aaron realized why you looked so familiar the second your name was mentioned. He’d seen your file, read it through thoroughly, and noticed your photograph paper-clipped to it, but he was on a plane for a case and then just as quickly he was on a plane to Boston for the conference. Gideon was the only one present for the interview. Gideon was the one to hire you. Gideon was the one to walk you through the building to his desk to introduce himself to you.

You don’t even blink. “Guess it’s a good thing you were polite to my mother, sir,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

Never mind the fact he already kissed you and the entire length of his body was pressed against yours.

“You two know each other?” Gideon asks, looking between the two of you.

“You could say that,” Aaron answers, but he’s only looking at you. There must be a glitch. Maybe Boston was a dream. No. You remember it, too.

“Not the CIA. Close enough, I suppose,” you grin.

“Sure,” he says softly... because he doesn’t know what to say. When he pulled your resume and your background check again he knew to expect you to walk through these doors at 9 am. A couple of hours still wasn’t enough time to prepare. You… were blindsided though.

“What aren’t you telling me, Hotch?” Gideon asks. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“No, not at all,” he says, but he’s still only looking at you. “Can I talk with you? In my office?”

You nod, following him, closing the door behind you, and leaning against it. “Don’t you think you should introduce me to the rest of the team?”

“Why didn’t you mention this?” he asks, standing in front of his desk.

“Why didn’t you? You had a million times to mention you worked for the FBI.”

“When I said CIA…”

“I thought you were being funny. I thought you were a traveling lecturer for like, science or something. I don’t know. The FBI, Aaron?”

“I could say the same for you. Jesus,” he whispers, stepping a little closer to you.

“It’s kind of funny we were out a whole night and it never came up,” you say, grinning.

“Jesus,” he mutters again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So what happens now?”

“I don’t know. We work, like adults, and we move on.”

“I don’t know, Aaron. I think someone doesn’t want us to move on,” you shrug. “I can’t sit in here all day. You have to introduce me to the rest of the team before they think I am fucking you.”

He glares at you. “These comments won’t be permitted with the rest of the team present.”

“Jesus. I know when to shut my mouth, Aaron. In private, they’re permissible though, right?”

“I truly don’t know how I’m going to work with you,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“Guess you must be glad you didn’t fuck me before,” you say. “Would’ve been really awkward.”

“Agent… drop it. I do have to introduce you to them. Let’s go.”

But your back is pressed against the door and you know it’s a risk to tease your fucking boss on your first day, but you can’t help yourself because he’s not just your boss, he’s Aaron. The man who held your heels and walked you back to your hotel room, who kissed you outside the door but wouldn’t let you take him inside with you, even though you felt how much he wanted you, too.

You don’t move.

“I need you to move from the door, Agent.”

“I’m ‘Agent’ now? How clinical. We’re still in private, Aaron.”

“If this is how you’re going to play it, I will have you fired.”

“Right,” you say. “Don’t think so.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a threat, Aaron?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters. But he’s only looking at your mouth.

“Just kiss me,” you say. “I know you want to. Probably been thinking about it all morning since you realized—"

You’re cut off by his mouth against yours. “Are you wearing lipstick?” he asks against your lips.

“No,” you answer, pulling him closer, tongue against tongue, hips against hips.

“That’s all you’re getting, Agent,” he says. “I expect you to be nothing but professional. That means no teasing, no mention of Boston, no mention that we know each other even if they ask. Noncommittal answers only.”

“Aaron, 'noncommittal' is my middle name,” you grin. “It’s you I’m more worried about. I seem especially talented at weakening that seemingly strong resolve.”

“It’s Hotch in front of the team. Go,” he nods at the door.

——————

“You did a good job with her,” Aaron says to you on the plane. “Liz. The victim.”

You smile, thanking him. “Used to work in a children’s psych hospital when I was doing my undergrad. Lots of child trauma there. Learned how to get to the root of their stories.”

“You’ll be a good addition.”

“You didn’t think so before?”

“I thought you were going to make me lose my mind,” he admits, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. Thankfully, it was an overnight flight. Everyone was asleep, save you two.

“I still might.”

Aaron nods, grinning, dimples on full display. “That you may.”

“What’s going to happen between us?”

“Nothing should.”

“I didn’t ask you what should. I asked you what is.”

“What do you want?”

You laugh. “I mean, Aaron, I’m the last girl to believe in fate, but that was a pretty big coincidence to ignore. And you keep kissing me whenever we’re alone.”

“You keep getting me alone,” he mutters, taking your hand and threading your fingers through his.

“Yeah, it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands or your mouth off me.”

“Shh,” he scolds.

“It’s true,” you say. “Anyway. You know what I want. I want you.”

“I want you, too,” he admits. “But this is a precarious situation and I’m not risking my career just for sex.”

“Aaron. We aren’t going to get any bigger signs from the universe that we need to try this. I’m open to it. We can try this. For real.”

“You believe that? It was fate?”

You laugh. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Crazy coincidence, if nothing else.”

Aaron looks around suspiciously, kissing your mouth gently when he confirms no one is watching.

Which is nothing how he kisses you later in your new apartment, searing hot against your skin as his fingers circle your clit softly, leaving you to whimper against his mouth. You’re jet-lagged and overly full from breakfast when you landed but you’re wide awake and needy when it comes to him now.

“Aaron,” you whine. “Need you. Now.”

“You have me, honey,” he teases, leaning forward to lay you down on the bed, using the angle to fuck his fingers into you relentlessly. “Better?”

“Fuck,” you say, nodding.

“So wet for me, honey,” he coos at you. “Such a good girl.”

You know you’re embarrassingly close from his ministrations with his hands, so quick to get there from being so worked up since Boston, having to go a whole week hiding this secret, sneaking off into side rooms just to press his mouth and body against yours.

You still don’t expect it to rip through you like that until you’re left shaking and moaning his name. You don’t expect his cock to fill you even better, up to the hilt. You don’t expect him to flip you over so you’re on top, able to watch him blush and whimper from your teasing, telling him he’s fucking up into you so good.

You definitely don’t expect him to suggest round two and go down on you.

Then again. You didn’t expect the man you took to your brother‘s wedding on happenstance to be your fucking boss. That you’re fucking now. Apparently.

“How long do you think we can hide this from a room full of profilers, Aaron?”

“Shut up,” he says, laughing, kissing you, hair all mussed up, making him look deliciously freshly fucked. “You’re good at holding on and holding out.”

“You’re not.”

“Only when it comes to you, honey,” he says, pulling you into him.

“They’ll figure it out because of something you did,” you wager.

“I shouldn’t take that bet,” he says. “But I will.”

And sure enough. When you nearly got shot, and of course Aaron ran to your side, checking you for wounds, kissing the top of your head when he realized you were safe and okay…

Morgan was watching. And it spread through the team like wildfire. Naturally.

“How long?”

“Since Boston,” you answer.

“Wait…” Gideon chimes in.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Aaron says.

------

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x you #hotch x you

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jqmalikhsgib · 2 months ago

Text

astrology

ten

emily immediately hands you a shot when you walked over to the group. you smile before taking it. emily cheers with the rest of the team.

aaron walks over to you and you smile. he gently puts his hands on your waist and greets you with a kiss.

“hi.”

“hi, honey. i missed you.”

“missed you too. couldn’t sleep without you beside me.”

“sorry i didn’t come home. i had a meeting with strauss and then paper work.”

you simply shake your head. “it’s okay. just glad you’re back.”

“alright! enough love birds. let’s get drunk!” emily lifts her glass. you playfully push her before ordering a drink yourself. you all gather at a table and sit down.

derek was the first person to talk.

“so? you gonna tell us how this happened or are we just gonna guess?”

aaron rest his hands on your knee. “i don’t know. we just connected.”

“come on, boss man! that can’t be it. that’s not how you describe someone you love.”

“he’s being honest, derek. we talked, got to know each other, we connected on a deeper level.”

“i haven’t been in love like this in such a long time. im happy.” aaron shrugs his shoulders.

penelope cheers. “im sorry, sir! it’s just—i haven’t heard or seen you this happy in a really long time. all ive wanted for you is to see that smile on your face. the glow in your eyes is so pure. if anyone deserves to be happy it’s you, sir.”

aaron gives penelope a smile. “thanks, garcia. means a lot.”

“when’s the wedding?” dave asked with a smirk.

you and hotch both laugh before shaking your heads. for the rest of the night you all drink and chat. when you get ready to go you and aaron make sure everyone is safe to drive.

aaron opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself and driving off. when you get home it’s quiet. jack was currently with jess for the day. you and aaron had the place to yourself.

you and aaron head upstairs. you walk into your bedroom and cuddle up to one another. aaron kisses the top of your head. you were both too tired to change out of your clothes. you just fell asleep in each others arms.

when you woke up aaron was gone. you see a note on his pillow with your name address. you open it with a smile.

good morning, honey.

when you wake i’ll probably be gone. just wanted to let you know that jack will probably be a little late home. he has a parent teacher conference and normally jess goes when im not available.

i didn’t know if you would want to be involved in jack’s schooling this much. i don’t wanna overwhelm you. if you feel otherwise the meeting is right after classes end. please let me know.

love you x

you grab your cellphone to text aaron. you let him know it’s no trouble going to jacks school. he thanks you before telling you he loves you and he’ll text you later.

you get out of bed to head downstairs and make a breakfast. after you finish eating you head back upstairs and take a shower. once you finished you grab the paper you wrote the other day of things you needed. finally being able to run errands you grab your car keys and head out the door.

when you get to the store you grab the things you need. once you finished you head to the children clothing aisle. you knew jack needed a new pair of play shoes. the ones he have are pretty much destroyed.

you grab at least two new pair. you suddenly feel something hit your leg. you look down to see a red ball. you grab it before a little girl comes into view. she looks at you shyly. you ben down and give the ball to her.

“sorry! she got away from me.”

“it’s alright. she’s adorable.”

“thank you!”

“how old is she?”

“how old are you amber?.”

“two!” she cheers

“what about you? how olds yours?”

you furrow your brows confused. she points to the pair of shoes.

“oh—im the nanny. sorta. it’s complicated. but not really.”

the woman laughs. “it’s okay. im also the nanny! i get what you mean. the kids become a part of you. they’re like your own. and her parents become your family as well. it’s a great feeling.”

you nod your head.

“if you ever wanna hang out a few other nannies like to go out when we’re off. if you’re ever free you can call at any time. my names hope. here’s my number. text me any time!”

“thank you. that’s sweet. nice to meet you amber.” you wave before walking away. you head to the checkout.

when you get home you put everything away. you look at the time and decide to head to jacks school. once you park you head inside the building.

when jack sees you he runs over towards you. you smile at the boy. “hi, jacksters!”

“hi, yn! are you here to talk to my teacher?”

you simply nod your head before jack leads you to his teachers classroom. once there the teacher smiles at you. you shake her hand before sitting across from her.

“you must be jacks step mom? he told me so much about you!”

you blush at that. “im—im his dads girlfriend, yes.”

“well, jack talks highly of you! speaking of, jack is doing excellent! he’s already reading at a fifth grade level.”

“really? that’s great!”

“mhm! he tells me you read to him every night.”

“yes! we’re currently reading the percy jackson series. sea and monsters is what we’re on now. we should be finished by tomorrow.”

“that’s excellent!”

jack teacher continues giving you updates on jack and his schooling. once you finished up you grab jack and head out the door. you buckle jack in the backseat before getting in the drivers seat and heading home.

“so, you told your teacher about me?”

“i did!”

“what did you say?”

jack smiles. “just told her you and daddy love each other and one day you’ll be married.”

“yeah? you think so?”

“yeah! you and daddy are gonna get married. i just know it!”

you never felt so much love before. it’s not aaron—though you love him so much!—it’s jack. it’s a different kind of love. the love you have for your kid. you know jacks not biologically yours, you still love him like your own. you would love to get married to aaron. you’d love to make jack your step-son officially. be a family with aaron.

you know you haven’t been with aaron too long to even think about marriage. people would think you were crazy. but you felt like you’ve known aaron a life time. you just knew you’d marry him someday. and if jack felt that way as well, you just knew it was meant to be.

“what do you want for dinner, baby?”

jack thinks about it. “can we have those nachos you made last time? daddy doesn’t make ‘em like that. i like yours better.”

you chuckle. “anything you want!”

when you get home you immediately start making dinner. it was a little late so you weren’t surprised when you heard the front door open. you felt aaron’s arms being wrapped around you.

he squeezed you waist and kissed your cheek. “smells good, honey.”

“your son wanted my nachos. he said i make them different and better.” you stuck your tongue out.

“you’re his mom! of course you’d make it better.” he smiles.

your heart pounds. aaron noticed the change in your behavior. he frowns as he looks at you. “are you okay, honey?”

“it’s—would you be okay with that? if—if jack decided to call me mom?” you clear your throat.

“why? did he say something to you?”

“not in so many words. he’s—he talked to his teacher about us, he told me somethings about us getting marriage, i think he called me his step mom to the teacher. it’s just—i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. if you’re not okay with it aaron, i can talk to him.”

“honey,” aaron kisses the top of your head. “if and when he does, ill be happy! it means jack thinks of you as a motherly figure. he already does. i just want you to be happy and i want jack to be happy. if him calling you mom makes you happy, so be it. would that make you happy?”

you nod your head as you burry your head in his chest. “i love you.” aaron whispers.

“i love you too, aar. you mean the world to me.”

“yeah?”

“mhm!”

“im gonna take a shower.”

“okay. dinner should be done when you get out. enjoy your shower, baby.”

aaron smacks your ass as you turn around to finish dinner. you yelp as he turns with a smirk.

once dinner was ready you make jack a plate before calling him. jack comes downstairs and sits down at the dinner table. about twenty minutes later aaron comes downstairs while you head up to tuck jack in.

once you finished reading the book you look at jack before speaking. “may i ask you something, baby?”

“mhm.”

“do you want to call me mom? it’s not pressure if you don’t. i just—ive noticed how you’ve been bringing it up occasionally.”

jack bites his bottom lip. aaron told you he never done that before you. he’s inherited some traits from you. that made you smile knowingly.

“maybe. i just didn’t wanna upset you or daddy.” he frowns.

“oh, baby! you won’t upset us. daddy and i talked about it. if you—if you ever wanna call me mom you have our full permission, okay? we both love you so much. we’ll do anything to see you smile. if that means you wanna call me mom, we’re all for it.”

“so i can call you mom? any time i want?”

“of course, baby. any time.”

jack smiles.

“now, why don’t you get some sleep? got school tomorrow. goodnight, baby.”

“goodnight, mom.”

your heart skips before you kiss his forehead and leave.

aaron was stands beside the door. you were a little startled before he kisses you passionately.

“how’d that feel? being called mom?”

“it felt—im a lost of words. it felt so incredible, aar!”

aaron chuckles softly before the two of you walk hand and hand in your shared bedroom. you lie in bed and hold one another before falling asleep peacefully.

#jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x black fem!reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #astrology jqhotchner

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mrs-dr-reid · 9 months ago

Text

Sparkling Diamond

Pairing: Jason Sudeikis x Broadway!Reader

Summary: Jason goes to see "Moulin Rouge! The Musical", and Y/N just so happens to be going on as Satine when Karen Olivo suddenly calls in sick

Genre: Soooooooo fluffy

Warnings: Swear words, age gap (Jason is 43ish, Reader is early to mid 30s), slight jealousy, mentions of in-show death, spoilers for Moulin Rouge probably, potentially very incorrect descriptions about how celebrities going to see shows on Broadway works, Aaron Tveit, Karen Olivo, and Amber Ardolino being conspiratory little shits

A/N: This sucker came to me in a dream because I am VERY into Moulin Rouge and Jason Sudeikis right now, so enjoy my brain vomit that I did way too much research for. GIF isn’t mine, I got it off a gif keyboard

Word Count: 3509

———————————————————————

When Y/N got the call that Karen Olivo was out sick and that she’d be going on for her, she certainly wasn’t expecting to meet her celebrity crush, nor was she planning on giving him her phone number, but crazier things had happened. Y/N arrived at the theater way before anybody else, mostly due to her nerves because it was only her second time going on as Satine instead of her usual role as one of the can-can girls, and she ensured she was completely warmed up before even thinking about doing anything else (she refused to get into costume until the actual call time so she wouldn’t completely sweat through it before the show even started). Since she was the only cast member there, she ran through her songs and choreography while waiting for everybody else to show up.

The first person to arrive was her fellow swing (and other Satine understudy), Amber Ardolino. She said, “Excited for your big night?”, as she put her bag down in their shared dressing room, so Y/N laughed nervously and said, “Yeah. But also scared shitless. It’s supposed to be a packed house tonight, and everybody’s gonna be expecting Karen. I don’t wanna let anybody down,” so Amber smiled and said, “You killed it last time, tonight won’t be any different. Plus, you’re getting paid to be serenaded by and make out with Aaron Tveit,” before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, which made Y/N burst out laughing before she replied, “He does have a voice like liquid gold, but you and I both know he’s not my type,” and started getting into costume.

Amber started doing her makeup, and as the hair stylist Caitlin came in to help Y/N into her wig and mic, she said, “Hey, did you hear that a celebrity’s coming to the show tonight?”, which made Y/N raise a questioning eyebrow before saying, “I did not. Any idea who it is?”, so Amber replied, “Only that it’s a man, which does jack shit to narrow it down,” as she curled her eyelashes. Y/N nodded thoughtfully, then said, “What if it’s Ewan McGregor?”, which sparked a whole debate over which male celebrities could potentially be in the audience that night.

Jason was excited, to say the least. The second he heard Moulin Rouge was coming to Broadway, he got a ticket for the first show he could, which was about two weeks after it opened. He made it to the theater, and despite his best efforts, he stirred up a little bit of a ruckus with his presence. He found his seat with the least amount of disruption he could manage, and then opened his playbill to see a slip of paper that read “The role of Satine will be played by Y/N L/N”, which made him raise an eyebrow at the fact that an understudy was going on for the leading lady so early in the show’s run, but he shrugged it off since it wasn’t his place to judge someone’s misbehaving immune system or potential family emergency.

He flipped through the program until he found her headshot, and he let out a low whistle because she was beautiful, but he instantly felt guilty about it because she looked a lot younger than him. The lights started going down, so he closed his program and settled in for the show. Based on his precursory glance at the musical numbers, he knew Satine didn’t show up until “The Sparkling Diamond”, so he sat tight and waited.

He boogied in his seat slightly during the opening number and "Truth, Beauty, Freedom, Love", then “The Sparkling Diamond” started, and Jason was practically on the edge of his seat with anticipation. As Y/N was lowered onto the stage on a trapeze in her glittery costume, Jason’s breath was taken away by how much more gorgeous she was in person. She began to sing, and Jason thought the world had stopped spinning, because not only was she beautiful, her voice was too.

He couldn’t help but feel a (frankly unwarranted) spike of jealousy every time Aaron put his hands on Y/N, whenever she clung to him, and whenever they kissed, which was ridiculous because he didn’t even know this woman and he was feeling so many emotions due to her frankly phenomenal acting. When intermission arrived, Jason was thankful for the little bit of respite it gave him, even though his mind raced with plans to somehow get the chance to meet his sparkling diamond as he took pictures and made small talk with some of the people around him.

Backstage, Aaron and Y/N were getting a drink of water and chatting when Amber came speeding around the corner and exclaimed, “GIRL! You are going to DIE when I tell you who came to see the show tonight!”, so Y/N put down her water and said, “Okay, now I’m curious. Who?”, which made an almost manic grin spread across Amber’s face (and a barely imperceptible smirk flash across Aaron’s) before she grabbed Y/N’s shoulders and said, “Jason. Friggin. Sudeikis.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, and she said, “No. You’re shitting me!”, so Amber said, “I am 100% not shitting you! Davin saw him taking selfies with people near the back of the house,” which only sent a spike of anxiety through her body. She said, “And I’m only being told about this now?!?!”, so Aaron piped up, “Well, you’re basically in love with the guy. If you knew before the show, you’d have gotten all in your head, and maybe even have refused to step foot on stage,” but he instantly regretted saying anything because Y/N turned her scorching gaze on him and said, “YOU KNEW MY CELEBRITY CRUSH WAS GONNA BE IN THE AUDIENCE, AND YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?!?!”, actually starting to panic now.

Amber quickly stepped in and said, “Hey, hey, hey, you’re spiraling. You kicked ass out there, and after intermission is over, you’re gonna kick even more ass,” Aaron adding, “Exactly. I’m honored to have a love interest as talented as you,” in an attempt to suck up to her so she wouldn’t hurt him. Y/N glared at both of them for ten seconds, then she let out a groan and said, “Okay, fine. Let’s go kick some ass. But don’t think I won’t get you for this later, Pretty Boy,” before hitching up her skirt and storming back to the stage to get ready for Act II. Amber said, “I’ll say some nice words at your funeral,” then scurried off to take her place, making Aaron let out a groan before following behind her.

Jason watched with rapt attention as the show reached its climax, and he actually shed a tear when Y/N pretended to die in Aaron’s arms. He was the first person on his feet for the standing ovation, and he’s sure he cheered the loudest when Y/N took her bow. After the encore, everybody started filtering out, so Jason went to follow them when a young woman wearing all black and a headset came over to him and said, “Hi, Mr. Sudeikis. I’m with the production team, and a couple of our cast members wanted to invite you backstage as a surprise for our Satine, Y/N. She’s a big fan of yours. Totally up to you, of course,” which made his eyebrows fly up to his hairline before he said, “Yeah, absolutely!”, and allowed her to lead him backstage.

Meanwhile, Y/N was in her dressing room having a mini-celebration with Amber because she somehow managed to not fall flat on her face for the remainder of the show despite knowing her celebrity crush was watching her every move. Aaron knocked on the door and said, “Oh, Ladies!”, in a sing-song voice, so Y/N said, “Yeah, Aaron?”, but all he did was grin mischievously before the stage manager Davin appeared in the doorway and said, “Oh, good, I found you. Aaron, Y/N, Jason Sudeikis is coming backstage to meet you guys,” which made Amber squeal in delight while Y/N just froze in place.

Y/N said, “He is?”, trying and failing to conceal her nerves, so Davin said, “Yeah, a couple of the cast members invited him back. Let’s go,” before bustling off again. Y/N shot dirty looks at Amber and Aaron, then said, “If I survive this, I’m gonna murder you both,” before stalking out of the dressing room to catch up with Davin, choosing to ignore the high-five her co-stars exchanged behind her.

She turned the corner and almost stopped breathing because Davin was making small talk with THE Jason Sudeikis. Davin saw her standing there gawking, then said, “Ah, there they are. Mr. Sudeikis, allow me to introduce our Christian and Satine, Aaron Tveit and Y/N L/N,” which made Y/N jump slightly when Aaron materialized next to her and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” while going over to shake Jason’s hand.

Jason took it and said, “Yeah, great to meet you too. You did a heck of a job out there. Best show I’ve seen in a while,” which made Aaron bow his head appreciatively before he looked over his shoulder and said, “Sparkles, get over here,” so Jason followed his gaze to where Y/N was standing with a nervous look on her face. He smiled reassuringly at her, so she steeled herself and said, “Hi. Big fan. I loved you in Tumbledown. And 30 Rock,” while walking over to shake his hand. He chuckled and said, “Now those are ones I don’t hear very often,” so Y/N smiled shyly and said, “What can I say, I like the deep cuts,” while playing with the skirt of her costume.

Aaron said, “You should have seen her when she found out you came to see the show. I thought she was gonna explode, she was so excited,” which made Y/N elbow him in the ribs and turn redder than the velvet dress she wore earlier in the show. Jason smiled and said, “Well, I’m flattered. And might I say you give Nicole Kidman a run for her money, Miss L/N. I could listen to you sing all night long,” before shooting a wink at her, which made her eyes widen before she giggled nervously and said, “Oh, I don’t know about that,” which made Aaron scoff and say, “Sparkles, come on, we’ve been over this. You’re crazy talented! Own that shit!”, while wrapping an arm around her shoulder and jiggling her playfully.

Jason felt the spike of jealousy surge through him again, but Y/N just shot Aaron an exasperated look and said, “I’m not above kicking your ass, Pretty Boy,” which made Jason chuckle slightly and Aaron raise his hands in mock surrender. Jason said, “Alrighty, well, it was great to meet you both. Before I get out of your hair, would you mind signing my playbill?”, and pulled a pen out of his pocket, so Aaron said, “Absolutely! But you have to sign the stair wall before you go. Theatre tradition,” before accepting the pen and playbill from Jason and using the nearby wall as a makeshift clipboard.

He passed them to Y/N once he was done, and she had no idea what possessed her to do this, but after she’d signed her name, she wrote her phone number underneath it and drew a heart next to it for good measure (she refused to acknowledge Aaron’s suggestive eyebrow wiggles). She handed the pen and the playbill back to Jason, said, “Thank you again for coming to see the show. I gotta get out of this getup, so bye!”, then waved quickly and scampered back to her dressing room. Aaron shook his head affectionately, then turned to Jason and said, “You didn’t hear this from me, but you’re her celebrity crush, and we couldn’t let you leave without giving her a chance to meet you. Thanks for making her day, man,” before playfully saluting with a wink and walking back to his dressing room.

Jason was speechless, but he still accepted the Sharpie Davin handed to him and signed the wall with the date. He exited the theater after thanking the production crew for the chance to meet Aaron and Y/N, and as he walked down the block, he opened his playbill to where their autographs were and stopped dead in his tracks, because while Aaron had simply signed his name, Y/N had written a series of numbers that could only have been her phone number beneath hers with a heart drawn beside them. He physically turned to look back at the theater, and he said under his breath, “That was bold. I like it,” before resuming his walk.

Meanwhile, Y/N was removing her makeup while Amber basically interrogated her about her interaction with Jason. Amber said, “Was he nice? Did he like the show? What did he think of you?”, so Y/N said, “Amber, for the love of god, breathe. Yes, he was very nice. He said it was the best show he’s seen in a while, so I think he liked it. And he said I give Nicole Kidman a run for her money,” which made Amber let out a crow before she said, “Oh my god, he was flirting with you!”, making Y/N’s cheeks flush bright red again.

She exclaimed, “He was just being nice!”, then Aaron’s voice said, “No, he was definitely flirting with you, Sparkles,” which made both women turn to see him leaning against the doorway of the dressing room in his street clothes. Y/N scoffed and said, “And what makes you say that?”, so he raised his eyebrows incredulously before saying, “For one, he complimented your voice and compared you to Nicole Goddamn Kidman when all he told me was that I did a heck of a job. For two, he winked at you like three times and only looked at me when I talked directly to him. And for three, he went stiffer than a board when I put my arm around your shoulders then instantly relaxed when you told me to shove it. He was super into you,” which made Y/N have to pause and think about it.

Aaron made a “you see what I mean?”-type face, then tapped the doorframe two times and turned to leave, but not before he said, “And in case you forgot, you’re the one who gave him your number without being asked,” which made Y/N shoot a death glare at his back and Amber let out a squeal before she exclaimed, “WHEN DID YOU GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER?!?!”, with an incredulous grin on her face. Y/N said, “He asked us to sign his playbill, and when I was signing my name my pen slipped and I wrote my number underneath it,” making Amber let out a shocked laugh, then Aaron called from the hall, “And she drew a heart!”, which made Amber let out an even louder shocked laugh before Y/N yelled, “SHUT IT, TVEIT!”, and went redder than a tomato.

Her phone lit up with a text from an unknown number, and she opened it to see the words, “Do you give all of the celebrity audience members your number?”, which made her eyes practically bug out of her head as she let out a tiny, “Holy shit,” before wordlessly holding her phone out to Amber so she could see the message. Her jaw dropped, and she whisper-yelled, “Is that him?!”, so Y/N whisper-yelled back, “Who else would it be, Michelangelo?!”, before she texted back, “Only the ridiculously good-looking ones,” and chucked her phone into her bag before she could regret it.

Amber said, “You are BOLD, Girl!”, which made Y/N say, “Hey, you can’t say I didn’t shoot my shot,” while grabbing her coat, then she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before grabbing her bag and walking out the door. As Y/N walked back to her apartment, her phone buzzed with another text message from Jason that said, “Well, now you’re just fluffing my ego,” which made her giggle and respond, “It’s not ego fluffing if it’s true,” with a wink emoji before adjusting her bag on her shoulder and continuing her walk.

The next day, Y/N arrived at the theater at the normal call because she was back to being a can-can girl, and while she was doing her makeup, Karen poked her head in the door and said, “Hey, I heard it went really well last night. Congratulations!”, with a big smile on her face. Y/N turned around in her chair and said, “Yeah, thanks! Turns out I was super nervous for no reason at all. Looks like you’re feeling a lot better today,” so Karen said, “Yeah, I am. It must have just been something I ate, because I felt right as rain by the time I got Aaron’s intermission check-in text. He said that Jason Sudeikis came to see the show last night. Did you get to meet him?”, with a knowing smile on her face.

Y/N turned pink, then said, “Yeah. And I gave him my phone number because I’m an idiot, but he ended up texting me, so it worked out,” before going back to doing her makeup. Karen said, “Oh yay! If he plans on coming to see the show again, let me know and I’ll make sure I’m sick again for you,” then scurried off, and it took Y/N about 20 seconds to process what she said before she whipped around and yelled, “DID YOU FAKE BEING SICK SO MY CELEBRITY CRUSH WOULD SEE ME AS SATINE?!?!”, but Karen was already gone.

Y/N let out a groan, then Amber came strolling through the door while saying, “Heyyy, Glitter Girl!”, a little too casually, so Y/N said, “Amber, I’m only gonna ask this once. Did you know Jason was gonna be at the show ahead of time, and did Karen fake being sick so I’d be the one going on for her?”, which made Amber freeze before shooting her a guilty smile and saying, “Kind of?”, earning an incredulous glare and a, “What do you mean, ‘kind of’?!?!”, from Y/N.

Amber let out a sigh and said, “I overheard the box office people talking on Wednesday, and one of them said ‘Sudeikis’ followed by ‘tomorrow’, so I put two and two together. But Karen was genuinely not feeling well after the show on Wednesday, so I told her about what I overheard. She said that she was planning on calling off, and when I mentioned that Jason may or may not be your celebrity crush, she said she’d do her best to make sure you were the one going on for her and not me, and Aaron said he’d do the same thing. Please don’t be mad!”, before steepling her hands in a pleading gesture.

Y/N let out a long sigh, then said, “I’m not mad. I’m just a bit peeved that you guys went behind my back like that,” which made Amber let out a huge sigh of relief before borderline tackling Y/N in a hug. Her phone buzzed on the table, so she picked it up to see a text from Jason that said, “Break a leg tonight, Twinkle Toes!”, and she must have blushed, because Amber nudged her and said, “You can’t be too mad at me because now your celebrity crush is crushing on you too,” earning a playful swat on the arm from Y/N before she said, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get ready, Dollar Store Cupid,” and shooed her away.

Y/N thought for a second, then opened her camera app and took a selfie of her making a silly face in just a wig cap, her stage makeup, and a ratty “I ❤️ NY” tank top to send to Jason with the words “Thanks, Cowboy!” accompanying it. She finished getting into her costume, then right as the five minutes to places announcement went out, Jason texted her back saying, “Yep, that’s your contact photo now. Here’s an equally silly picture of me so you don’t feel left out,” with an attached picture of him with a pencil mustache and crossed eyes.

She giggled, then changed the boring “J” icon her phone automatically gave him to that picture and sent back, “Excellent. About to take places, so I’ll talk to you at intermission,” and the last text she read before she stuck her phone in her bag was a thumbs up and the cowboy emoji. What she didn’t know was that Jason was dangerously close to picking the heart emoji instead, but he figured he had all the time in the world to get to know her enough to finally be able to use that emoji whenever he wanted.

———————————————————————

#logan writes #jason sudeikis x reader

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skinnywalker · 2 years ago

Text

Multifandom masterlist

Nsfw 🌶

Angst 🧅

Ted Lasso

None yet

Coach beard

None yet

Trent Crimm

None yet

Rebecca Watlon

None yet

Jamie Tart

None yet

Roy Kent

None yet

Sam Obisanya

None yet

Dani Rojas

None yet

Nate Shelley

None yet

Will Kit man

None yet

DnD honor among thieves

Holga

None yet

Doric

None yet

Simon

None yet

Xenk

None yet

Edgin

None yet

Criminal minds

All

Headcanons 🌶

Spencer reid

None yet

Aaron hotch

Professional nanny

Penelope Garcia

None yet

Derek morgan

None yet

Emily Prentiss

None yet

Stranger things

Robin

tastes like kiwi 🌶

Girls like boys who like boys

Black fem reader

Max

Let's just forget

Male reader

Clicks

Back bumps 🧅

Male reader headcanons

Things are different now

Rest

Eddie

Somebody has a crush

Pt2

Love you

Where you will go pt1

Pt2

it will be ok 🧅

dating eddie as el's brother

Chrissy Cunningham

In the forest pt 1

Pt 2

Pt 3

Steve Harrington

God you were such a dick🧅

Billy hargrove

My little dove pt 1🧅

Pt 2🧅

Pt 3🧅

Karen wheeler

Suburban mom 🌶

Picture prefect

Mall love

Supernatural

Charlie

None yet

Dean

None yet

Sam

None yet

Jack

None yet

Castiel

None yet

Crowley

None yet

The Last of Us

Joel miller

None yet

Ellie williams

None yet

The Sandman

Morpheus

The ruby burns

Humanity's cold arms 🧅

A bird in a cage 🧅

Death

None yet

The Corinthian

Slashers

Lester sinclair

Lester x male reader pt1

Pt 2 🌶

RZ Micheal myers

Child reader pt 1 🧅

Pt 2

Mine after all this time 🌶

Bo sinclair

None yet

Yautja

Puppy tender

Vincent sinclair

None yet

Tiffany valentine

None yet

Norman Nordstrom

None yet

Mick Taylor

None yet

Billy lenz

Billy x male reader pt1 🌶

pt2 🌶

Billy loomis

None yet

Stu macher

None yet

Amber Freeman

Noel yet

Amanda young

None yet

Multi fem

Fem slasher headcanons

Thomas Hewitt

None yet

Bubba sawyer

None yet

The collector

None yet

The lost boys

Male rolling reader

Tiny hands

Marvel

Multi-charcter

All in a day's work 🌶

Oh Stevie 🌶

I'll do it myself🌶

Pretty boy🌶

Namor

Cold water

My god

Shuri

None yet

Bucky barnes

None yet

Steve rogers

Well hello 🌶

Tony stark

Just a coffee outing

Natasha romanoff

None yet

Wanda maximoff

None yet

Foggy nelson

None yet

Matt murdock

None yet

Miles Morales

I knew you

Spider Gewn Stacy

None yet

Pativr Prabhakar

None yet

Hobie Brown

None yet

Multi-character

Boy crazy 🌶

Edward nashton

Bottom headcanons 🌶

You just don't get it pt 1 🧅

Pt 2 🌶

Harley

None yet

Ivy

None yet

Red Dead Redemption

Arthur Morgan

None yet

Lenny Summers

None yet

Charles Smith

None yet

GoT and HotD

Daenerys Stormborn

None yet

Rhaenyra Targaryen

None yet

Sansa Stark

None yet

Arya Stark

None yet

Bran Stark

None yet

Robb Stark

None yet

Jon Snow

None yet

Theon Greyjoy

None yet

Yara Greyjoy

Daenerys Stormborn

None yet

Sandor Clegane

None yet

Brienne of Tarth

None yet

Podrick Payne

None yet

Shae

None yet

Oberyn Martell

None yet

Margaery Tyrell

None yet

Loras Tyrell

None yet

Tyrion Lannister

None yet

Jamie Lannister

None yet

Tormund Giantsbane

None yet

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #the sandman x reader #the lost boys x reader #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic

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she-karev · 2 months ago

Text

The Worst Day (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Angst with a Happy Ending)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 6

AN: Here’s another tearjerking chapter guys so get your tissues out and don’t worry I’ll get to Japril and Jolex once I finish this story.

Summary: Jackson and April find out what happened and go help Amber who is beating herself up for walking away from Andrew DeLuca the night before.

Words: 1638

April 30th, 2020

Jackson Avery is sitting at the park bench waiting for April Kepner who asked to speak with him last night. Yesterday they worked together for the first time in years on two young girls who were kidnapped. The night was long and sorrowful for both of them, and it made them question their feelings for one another. It made him question if he was ready to give their relationship another chance.

He sits at the bench thinking about his conversation with Alex last night and his advice when Jackson told him about him and April. Alex said that maybe the timing was right for them this time, but the question was did Jackson want it to be? It’s a question that has been wracking in his head all night and ultimately, he came to a conclusion that has been building inside of him for weeks since he found out April and Matthew broke up.

He sees April approaching him in her casual clothes and black mask. He stands up and keeps six feet away from her.

“Hi.” Jackson greets her, “I’m glad you texted me last night, I uh I needed to talk to you about some things.”

April nods, “Me too…let me start by telling you what Amber said that pissed me off so much. She said that the reason you are unwilling to take me back is because I left after Samuel.”

Jackson’s heart tightens at the reminder of that painful time of their marriage but lets April continue, “And I thought she was being awful but there was some truth to what she said and I realize that now and I know now the real reason you signed the papers that day.”

“April I-” Jackson tries to respond but his phone rings and he looks and see’s it’s Alex to his confusion, “I gotta take this it could be a patient of mine.”

Jackson answers the phone and holds it against his ear while April looks ready to give the rest of her speech, “Yeah?” April sees Jackson listening to Alex on the phone and something he said caused his eyes to widen.

“DeLuca did what?” April begins to grow concerned as she sees Jackson’s face pale and his mouth drop open, “Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He hangs up the phone, “We gotta get to the hospital come on.”

Jackson doesn’t wait for a response as he walks in the direction of the hospital at a fast pace with April following, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll explain on the way but we gotta hurry.” Jackson continues walking fast with April following as he explains what happened.

Later

Alex sits on a pew at the chapel with his sister next to him. She is still wearing her casual clothes with her mask on. Her elbows are against the back of the pew in front of them leaning down and closing her eyes trying to take slow and deliberate breaths to keep from having another panic attack. Also in the chapel are Carina DeLuca and Maya Bishop who are at the first pew sitting in silence as well.

After she cried on his shoulder, he got someone to cover her service knowing she is not in the right state to treat patients. Alex knows his sister is trying to focus on her breathing so the million bad things in her head can be kept at bay. It’s what he and Aaron taught her, rise through the pain. He admonishes himself for telling his baby sister to shove down the pain that she needs to feel otherwise she could explode once the emotional dam bursts.

Jackson and April enter the chapel with worried looks on both of their faces. They see Amber in the pew and their worry morphs to that of sympathy. Alex stands up to allow them to comfort her in her time of need. Jackson takes Alex’s place; Amber opens her eyes and sees her best friend right next to her who pulls her against him.

She doesn’t fight it, instead she lets him pull her into his embrace allowing her to cry in his presence. Amber holds Jackson’s forearm around her for dear life and the small chapel is filled with her small cries and sniffles that Carina shares as well in the front row. Maya holds her as she breaks down over her brother being in surgery while Amber breaks down over the man, she loves being hurt the day she was gonna tell him she still loves him. Alex and April look at the couples in sadness, not knowing how they can mend their pain.

“Any updates?” April whispers to Alex anxiously.

“No, he’s still in surgery, Hunt and Altman are working on him.”

April blanches at that, “How bad was it?”

Alex looks just as tormented, “It’s bad.”

April shudders at that and sees Amber still crying in Jackson’s arms, “How is she?”

“She was a wreck when they brought him in, she was right there we both were.” April closes her eyes at the thought of Amber being right there in the middle of all of that chaos, “She had a panic attack, but I calmed her down and now…now we’re just waiting.”

“Waiting is the worst thing a person can do at a time like this.” April’s eyes glisten in tears, “She loves him, she never stopped. She was gonna give him another chance and then…”

Alex sighs at that, “I imagined so many bad things happening to him. He hurt my sister, and I saw the damage he left and I…he’s gotta pull through. He’s gotta pull through.”

April can see her old friend beating himself up and blaming himself for what happened to DeLuca, “Even if you specifically wished it, a sex trafficker attacking him would not have been you’re doing. Don’t blame yourself, your shame spiral is not needed, not when your sister needs you right now. I blamed myself for what happened to Samuel so many times until someone convinced me that it was out of my control. This was out of all of our control and all we can do now is pray for the best and prepare for the worst.”

Alex nods at that sage advice, “Have I told you I missed having you around?”

April grins at that, “No but I wouldn’t mind you saying it every day I continue to work here.”

Alex’s phone beeps and he looks at the message in regret, “Damn it, Hayes found a bronchogenic cyst in Luna, he needs me in the OR. Can you guys stay with her while I go?”

“Yeah of course. We’ll call you if we need anything or if we have any updates.” Alex nods gratefully before leaving. April approaches Jackson who is holding Amber in his arms as she begins to calm down, “I’m gonna light a candle are you good?”

Jackson nods letting April do her praying routine as he focuses on his friend in his arms. Her sobbing has stopped though he can see tears streaming down her cheeks from her red and blotchy eyes. Seeing her like this makes him want to go to the OR and make sure DeLuca comes out alive for his sake as well as Amber’s. But he knows she needs him here, holding her and making sure one of them is strong enough to carry the other.

“Hunt and Altman are the best people we could ask to patch up DeLuca. If I was in his position, I would want them to treat me. I know it’s hell but all we can do is wait and I’ll wait with you, you can count on me for that, I promise.” Jackson rubs Amber’s arm up and down with her head against his chest.

“I should have told him last night.” Amber sniffles and exhales a shaky breath, “I ignored his calls and made him think that the night we spent together was just some random hookup. He thought things were the same that I…that I couldn’t forgive him or love him.”

Jackson’s heart breaks for his broken best friend as she continues to confess her regrets in his arms, “He tried to change my mind last night. He came to me, and he told me he would earn back my trust. He told me things would be different, he said that I was the love of his life…and I walked away.”

Amber’s voice breaks with every sentence that destroys her already fragile heart, “I walked away and left him there. I didn’t say anything, no I love you, no good night just nothing. The last moment I had with him I let him think I was never gonna love him again. My last words to him were nothing and now he could die, and I’ll never say the things I wanted to say last night to him. He’ll never know how much he means to me…he’ll never know I never stopped loving him.”

Jackson sighs at this pressing a kiss to her head in brotherly love, “He knows, deep down he knows.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Amber states in shock and despair, “I mean with everything that’s happened and now this?”

Amber sobs softly in Jackson’s arms with her face pressed against his chest. He allows her tears to soak through his shirt as it’s the only thing he feels he can do at this moment. Jackson holds her against him by her arm letting his chin rest on top of her blonde head. He closes his eyes and says a silent prayer to every higher power he can to let DeLuca live so this beautiful and strong girl in his arms can say what she needs to say and get the happy ending they both deserve.

Next Chapter Here

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froggywritesstuff · 2 years ago

Text

character list

the title is self explanatory. this is a list of the characters i'll write for. it'll probably change over time, and if you see a character you'd like but don't see them on the list, just ask cause i might've forgotten about them

Hamilton

Eliza Schuyler

Angelica Schuyler

Peggy Schuyler

Maria Reynolds

Alexander Hamilton

John Laurens

Philip Hamilton

Lafayette

Hercules Mulligan

James Madison

Thomas Jefferson

Aaron Burr

Umbrella Academy

Viktor Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Luther Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella or Sparrow)

Sloane Hargreeves

Jayme Hargreeves

Stranger Things

Will Byers (non female readers only)

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Eleven Hopper

Max Mayfield

Robin Buckley (non male readers only)

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

21 Chump Street

Justin Laboy

The Goldfinch

Boris Pavlikovsky

Theodore Decker

Marvel

Peter Parker (any actor)

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Makkari

Sersi

Sprite (platonic only)

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Layla El-Faouly

America Chavez (non male readers only)

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova (platonic only)

Shuri

Namor

Riri Williams

X-Men

Mystique

Kitty Pryde

Peter Maximoff

Rogue

Logan Howlette

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

Scott Summers

In The Heights (movie version)

Usnavi de la Vega

Vanessa

Nina Rosario

Benny

Sonny de la Vega

Heathers

Veronica Sawyer

JD (Jason Dean)

Heather Chandler

Heather McNamara

Heather Duke

John Doe

Ride The Cyclone

Noel Gruber (male or nb readers only)

Ocean O'Connel Rosenburg

Mischa Bachinski

Constance Blackwood

Ricky Potts

Hatchetfieldverse

Paul Matthews

Emma Perkins

Ted Spankoffski

Bill Woodard

Ruth Fleming

Pete Spankoffski

Richie Lipschitz

Max Jagerman

Grace Chasity

Lex Foster

Ethan Green

Hannah Foster (platonic only)

Heartstopper

Charlie Spring (non female readers only)

Nick Nelson

Tara Jones (non male readers only)

Darcy Olsson (non male readers readers only)

Elle Argent

Tao Xu (non male readers only(headcanoning him as bi or pan is disrespectful and transphobic))

Tori Spring

Imogen Heaney

Isaac Henderson (platonic only)

Do Revenge

Eleanor Levetan (non male readers only)

Drea Torres

Wednesday

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Bianca Barclay

Xavier Thorpe

Ajax Petropolus

Eugene Otinger

(young) Morticia Addams

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maybege · 2 years ago

Text

Birthday Parties - FBI 10

Summary: It is your birthday and it does not go as expected. (Part 10 of FBI)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.2k | Rating: T

Warnings: we all hate Josh and we will swoon over Hotch

So, uh, welcome back, I guess. I hope you are all doing well! I am slowly working on fics besides my thesis and it was a lot of fun to get back to Hotch. I hope you are still somewhat interested because I promise, things are now going to be heating up a little 👀 As always, please let me know what you thought in a reblog or a comment, to hear from you truly means the world to me!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“You are distracted today, why?”

You looked up from your screen to find Hotch standing beside your desk, mustering you quietly. Great. That was the last thing you needed.

These last two weeks had been pure hell. Very stressful hell. First, there was stress at work, which was something you were used to by now. But then there was stress at home and that was a factor you hadn’t been prepared for and something you, therefore, could not handle. At all.

Josh had decided to fill every little slice of free time you had at home with inviting people over – from the quiet but okay John to the absolutely unbearable Amber – and there wasn’t one minute you had to yourself. Even with limiting your time in the shared rooms and just quickly whipping something up for dinner before hiding in your room to the tunes of The Nanny title sequence, you could still hear Amber’s annoying chatter more than you’d like.

Add to that your mother who had decided that you, in fact, did not know what you were doing and the best thing would be to insinuate that you should come home at every phone call, safe to say your life was pretty miserable right now.

At this point, all you wanted was some peace and quiet as you attempted to watch Bridget Jones’s Diary for the umpteenth time.

And today was the worst day.

“I am not distr-“

Hotch threw you what Reid had previously called The Boss Look – absolutely unconvinced and with his eyebrow cocked up as he still held the file in his hand – and you faltered. Remembering the look he threw you when you had brought yet another load of banana bread to the office kitchen to him, you decided that it wasn’t worth lying to him. He could read you like a book anyway.

“It’s, uh, it’s my birthday,” you admitted shyly, not knowing if he was really interested in your personal life woes. Probably not. But he had asked for it and you knew Agent Hotchner would only ever be satisfied with the truth.

“A-and my roommate, well my best friend, he organized this dinner for me and –“

Hotch cocked his eyebrow even more and you grew quiet. “Sorry. I, uh, I will make an effort to have those reports finished, Sir. I promise.”

Hotch nodded, though he didn’t look very happy, and the moment he walked away, you internally cursed yourself. Clearly, this had been oversharing on your part. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut for once?

“What was that about?” Derek asked you, setting down the coffee he had just gotten on his desk. You knew he meant well, Derek Morgan always did, but you had just learned your lesson and just shook your head with a smile. “Nothing really,” you murmured, “I just need to focus on these reports if I want to leave early today.”

It took you another two hours and a copious amount of tea to get the texts to a level that was at least somehow acceptable. With a look at the time, you knew it was now or never.

Hotch’s door was slightly ajar and you peeked your head inside. “I got the reports finished.”

He nodded, not looking up from whatever he was writing. “Great, put them here with the others, please.”

Your heels made a dull sound on the carpet in his office, echoing your heartbeat. It had been weeks since your case in Fargo and weeks since he had shown you the kind of affection that let you hope he might like you in any way, shape or form. Sometimes you wondered if he was avoiding you but then you remembered that you were the one who ran around like a headless chicken in an attempt to keep control of your unravelling life.

The papers added another inch to a pile of files that were already too high for your liking.

“And what?”

Your head shot up, meeting his eyes. He was sitting at his desk, his hands still posed over the reports, looking at you as if it was clear what he had been asking. “What?”

“You didn’t finish your point earlier,” he made a loose gesture with his hand and you tilted your head.

Did he really want to know about your personal life? You eyed him for a moment, expecting him to burst out laughing and tell you it was all a joke. The moment never came.

“Josh, uhm, I think he wanted to do me a favour so that people are there as I … haven’t really found a new friend group since moving here but,” you sighed, for the first time showing your disappointment openly, “It’s just his friends from work and he knows I don’t even like them. So, it’s just,” you let out another deep breath, avoiding his eyes, “I am not looking forward to it.”

He made a non-committal sound at the back of his throat, leaning back in his chair. “Why not tell him you would prefer not to have them invited?”

“Because that’s still a better option than spending the evening of my birthday completely alone,” you admitted, knowing it would make no sense to lie to the man in front of you. He could read you like an open book anyway and this way, at least, you’d have control over how much you humiliated yourself in front of him.

“If you would excuse me,” you murmured, not giving him the chance to reply, “I have a birthday dinner to attend to.”

Hours later, you were wishing yourself back to the office and working on all the reports Derek didn’t want to do. At least you wouldn’t have to endure this.

“So, uh, what do you do?”

“I work for the environmental law department,” John explained to the group of guests Josh had invited, and you felt excitement bubbling up in your chest, “A few months now, it’s really exciting.”

“Oh wow,” you exclaimed, genuinely impressed, “So what kind of cases does that entail? That’s so interesting!”

“It is,” he smiled, “Currently, I am working on a case involving the –“

“Ugh, this wine really isn’t very good,” Amber jeered next to you, looking down at the glass in her hands. John paused, clearly surprised by the sudden interruption as was the rest of the group.

“Amber, it’s your second glass of that wine,” you replied, unsure of what was happening.

She shrugged, “Can you get me another one? Do you have any red wine?”

You hated red wine.

John looked at you with sympathy and you threw a look at Josh who just stared at the bottom of his glass as if that would somehow give him the answer to a question he had posed. No one made a move.

You sighed, pushing your shoulders back and throwing her an extra wide smile, “Sure, let me take a look in the kitchen.”

Amber only nodded at you.

You made your way to the kitchen, hating how you were barefoot when all the guests had decided to leave their shoes on. The entire evening was a disaster, you felt. No one had even known it was your birthday and you had the sneaking suspicion that Josh had just told that story to you so he could have a party without feeling bad about not spending time with you.

So here you were, trapped with his friends and him in your apartment with no excuse to just retreat back to your room and watch a sad movie so you could cry your heart out.

How could you feel so lonely in a room full of people?

You threw open the door to the fridge, looking at the different bottles Josh had stocked there only to find out that he had taken your ice cream from the freezer to make space for ice cubes.

Tears stung in your eyes, frustration building up as you grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge. That was your emergency ice cream for a bad day.

“Hey, hon,” Josh chirped as he entered the kitchen, going to the freezer and getting out the ice cubes as if nothing was amiss.

“Why did you pull out my ice cream?” you asked, hating how small your voice became now that you were confronting him.

“I needed space for the ice.”

“You could have taken out your ice cream,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “And why is Amber acting like this is her apartment?”

He frowned, “She’s not. She’s just comfortable around us, that’s a good thing.”

“Josh, for once, could you just – “

The doorbell rang.

You took a deep breath, pressing your hand against your chest as you tried to just calm down. This did not have to be miserable. This could be nice. You just had to go out there and smile and pretend everything was all right when you really really did not feel like it.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Josh said, his voice sincere, “Here, I will get the wine to Amber and you get the door, does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” you muttered under your breath when he had already left for the living room, “I don’t even know how many people you invited to this fucking thing.”

You did not feel any better as you stood in front of the door, opening it with a greeting on your tongue that dried out the second you saw who was standing in front of you.

“Hello!” Derek slipped through the open door as you gawked at them. At all of them.

They were all here.

There was Derek, dressed casually as always, sending you a blinding smile as he held up a six-pack of beer. Next, Garcia in her ever colourful dress carried a big wrapped present with a mismatched bow on top.

“Happy birthday!” JJ exclaimed, pulling you into a one-armed hug as she raised the bottle of prosecco in her other hand, “I got you the good one!”

“Uh, thanks,” you stuttered, watching her follow Morgan and Garcia to where the food was.

One by one they filed past you grinning at you, and – in Reid’s case – waving at you excitedly as he eyed the pictures in the hallway.

“I hope we aren’t too late,” Hotch’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts and you turned back to the door, seeing that he was the only one left standing there, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“No, I –“ you swallowed back the tears, “You – you told them?”

He didn’t answer but that was already answer enough. Something warm bloomed in your chest at the thought that he had done that for you.

“Uh, Rossi mentioned that flowers might be nice,” he held up a bouquet. It was so enormous you were surprised you had not noticed it until now.

“Thank you, Hotch,” you brought out, taking it from him and letting him step inside. His fingers brushed over yours and a shiver went through you. Suddenly, even the wide hallway seemed too small for the both of you.

“You look nice,” he commented suddenly, a friendly smile on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking down at the dark red slip dress you had donned for the occasion. It reached just a little past your knees, the skirt flaring every time you made a spin (which had also been the reason you had bought it in the first place – you loved a good twirl).

It was the first time that evening someone had paid you a compliment.

“You didn’t have to, you know,” you tried to say, “But I really appreciate it.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, still standing in front of you.

Then he turned around, making his way to the others and you found yourself reaching for his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Thank you Hotch,” you murmured, avoiding his eyes to not let him see just how close you were to crying, “It – You have no idea how much this means to me.”

His big hand clasped over yours, squeezing softly. “Anytime.”

In the living room, the arrival of your colleagues had not gone unnoticed.

“Um, Josh, everyone, these are my colleagues from work,” you said with a proud smile, gesturing to the group of newly arrived guests. Garcia smiled excitedly at everyone. “And uh, this is Josh,” you said, pointing to him, “My roommate.”

“And best friend,” he added, smiling politely at all of them, “Pleasure to meet you.”

From then, the conversation continued as usual. Everyone split off into smaller groups and you were happy that you did not have to talk to Amber anymore. You even got to finally taste some of the appetizers in peace, already eyeing the cake you had gotten from the bakery around the corner.

You were joking with Emily and Garcia bout the next girl’s night when you heard a comment from right behind you.

“To be honest, I am surprised you would even show up. It’s not like she’s a star agent or anything.”

Josh.

You frowned, seeing a similar expression on Garcia’s and Emily’s faces before you slowly turned around. He was right behind you, his back to you which explained why he had felt like he was safe to make such a statement.

Did he believe what he had said?

He was standing in a circle with Amber and John as well as another couple of his friends, but most importantly, you found Hotch and Derek staring right back at you. Josh had said that to them. To your colleagues and, most importantly, your boss.

Heat crept up your neck, flooding your cheeks and ears as you found shame spreading all around you. You felt paralyzed by his words. By your best friend saying something so … demeaning about you.

Yours and Hotch’s eyes locked and he must have seen something in them because he took the largest gulp of scotch you had ever seen him drink.

“On the contrary, she is a very capable agent,” he stated dryly, “Her presence in the team and her additions on the field are irreplaceable just like everyone on this team is. If she is not a star agent then none of us are.”

“That’s true!” Reid piped up, “Uh, for example when it came to the Headless Killer, she was –“

“Who’s the Headless Killer?” John asked innocently and you winced when Reid went off into a long-winded, untypically graphic and completely fabricated story about some serial killer off in North Dakota. You could spot the amused glint in his eyes and even Hotch looked like he was hiding a smirk as Josh’s guests shifted uncomfortably.

“That much for party conversation, huh?” Derek joked, taking a long sip of his beer. But even as the tension dissolved, most of Josh’s guests going back to their previous conversations, your eyes were still on Hotch.

He was looking at the floor, hand around the whiskey glass in his hand as JJ told him something and he nodded, looking serious as ever. Heat rose into your cheeks. Why did it feel like he had defended you just then? Had he defended you?

Josh passed you, clearly on his way to the kitchen and you excused yourself from Emily and Garcia before following him. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to confront him. Humiliation was still burning in your stomach and it didn’t help that he – the one person who you thought was your best friend – was the source of it.

“Josh, that wasn’t an okay comment to make,” you opened, remaining standing in the doorway as he stood in front of the kitchen aisle, not even really acknowledging it.

“It was just a joke, hon,” he shrugged off, opening a cabinet, “Do you know where we put that spare bottle opener?”

“It was not a funny one, then. And I would appreciate it if you stopped making jokes about my work. Or about me.”

“Look at that Miss Innocent finally found her claws,“ he groaned, “Seriously, did we get it out already? I could’ve sworn, I put it here.”

“It’s right here,” you said, opening the drawer closest to you, and bit your lip. You wanted to say more, wanted to get him to apologize, to see how wrong he was. How he had hurt you. But, as it often was, the words wouldn’t leave your mouth and so you just watched him smile at you, shaking the bottle opener in his hands before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, staring into your glass, and trying to gather the courage to go back and face everyone.

“You alright, kid?” you turned to find Morgan leaning against the door, obviously having noticed your confrontation – if it could even be called that – with Josh. You sighed, bringing your wine glass back to your lips.

“He means well,” you tried to explain, although the more you had to think and say it this evening, the more you doubted it.

“My experience is that the people we need to clarify that about usually don’t care if they mean well or not,” Morgan said, tilting his head as he looked at you inquisitively.

You were certainly not in the mood to discuss your deteriorating friendship with Josh. You heard shuffling in the hallway and frowned, peaking your head out of the kitchen to catch your colleagues regrouping in the tiny space in front of the door.

“Penelope, what are you doing?” you asked the woman who shouldered her bag.

“We are going out.”

You felt something inside you shatter. Probably your heart.

But who could blame them, honestly? It was a horrible dinner or party, whatever it would end up being.

“Oh of course,” you nodded, swallowing back the anxiety.

Hotch met your eyes over her shoulders and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed. He didn’t say anything but you imagined seeing a little bit of doubt in his eyes.

Apparently, one did not need to be a profiler to notice the sadness on your face because the blonde technician rolled her eyes good-naturedly and grabbed you by the arm. “And obviously you are coming with us, silly!”

“Me?” you stuttered, “B-But the party –“

“Yes,” Emily appeared by your side, “You need to celebrate, not mope around with these strangers.”

You were not going to lie, celebrating sounded kind of nice.

“Okay,” you murmured, seeing Reid and Morgan grin at your agreement, “Let’s go celebrate.”

You turned to the living room where Josh was in an avid discussion with Amber. “Josh, I will go out with my friends,” you said, your heart skipping a beat at calling these people your friends. But they were right and at the moment even more your friends than he was. “I hope you don’t mind, I know you put a lot of planning into –“

“Sure thing,” he called, waving you off, “Have fun!”

And at that moment, you decided, you would have a lot of fun. Even if it was just out of spite.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader

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