Heart like Yours - IBM Submission
summary: hotch meets someone that reminds him of himself…he doesn’t want her to make the same mistakes he did.
pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner
warnings: a little angsty but more than anything fluffy. some kissing
An: this is based on this IBM submission from sweet @kyleehotchner. thanks for sending this in and I hope you and everyone else enjoys the first ever IBM oneshot 🥺. graphic is by @ssa-ki99.
word count: 2.3k
masterlist
There’s a set of rules that you give yourself when you join the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re to protect yourself, and to protect your heart. Every single time you opened up in the past it left you empty handed, wishing that someone, anyone would reciprocate the energy that you had given. So when you join the BAU as they call it, you set a plan in place.
Rule number one is that you’re not allowed to open up to anyone. Rule number two is that you will always listen and support your team members, but only within the parameters of work. The third is the second most important; you do not, under any circumstances, go to any team bonding events unless they are deemed mandatory. Lastly, you will never call anyone by their first name. Ever.
With that set of rules you feel safe as you walk into your first day of work. Its easy to hold them all at arms length, except for one. The one you least expected. Aaron Hotchner. In your interviews he came off as professional, caring, but aloof. You related to him and anticipated that he would understand your standoffish behavior. And he did; but not in the way you expect.
-----
You’ve been at the BAU for a couple months now and fallen into a routine. Unless the team is talking victimology or being assigned work you’re generally alone on the jet or a hidden nook that you found down the hall from the bullpen. Tonight it’s the jet and you’re nestled into the far corner away from everyone else, focusing on a report.
Hotch lets out a small huff as he plops down in the seat across from you. You look up at him in confusion, placing your pen on top of your report.
“Thought I would keep you company. If you don’t mind?” He murmurs, opening a file of his own.
“Um, sure.”
The two of you work in silence but you can feel it coming, the air’s too thick and charged between you. You give out a quiet sigh when he clears his throat to speak.
“So how do you feel you’re settling in?”
“I think its going well, thank you for checking in sir.” You offer him a tight nod and look back down at your report.
“Of course.” Though you aren’t looking at him, you can feel his eyes on you, practically burning holes into your features.
“Something else you want to ask me, Hotch?” You ask, eyes still trained down at the pages.
“Emotionally, how are you feeling?”
“I feel fine, sir. Thanks.”
“Its your 15th case and you haven’t so much as shuddered at the bodies we’ve seen.” It’s a statement, and you instantly take it as a jab, becoming defensive.
You set your pen down again and look up to hold his gaze. “Is that a problem?”
You can tell it surprises him how forward and strong willed you’re being, his eyes widening.
“Well, no-”
“Would you rather me have a reaction to it than have an objective view?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying because right now it seems as if I’m being accused of being emotionless.”
“I apologize for how my concern is coming off. My intent was to let you know that if you are struggling with a case, if you’re feeling emotional, if you need to be human then you can take a moment. I’m here to lend an ear.”
“I appreciate it, sir. But I promise you I’ll be fine.”
“But if you aren’t-“
“Then I’ll let you know.” You give him a stiff smile before rummaging through your bag for your headphones. You don’t know why your heart is beating so fast, or why your hands are sweaty and you don’t let yourself try to decipher the feelings. Instead you dive back into your report, wanting to finish it so that you can relax once you’re home.
His presence across from you on the jet becomes a normal occurrence. As time goes on you grow used to it, you even come to prefer it. Sometimes he’ll bring you both tea or ask what you’re reading. Sometimes he’ll mention Jack, and show you pictures of the sweet little boy. But he never fails to check in and ask you how you’re doing. You always ask back, don’t want to be rude but eventually you’re leaning forward in your seat, truly wanting to know how he’s doing.
Its one of those times that he sees that you’re a bit more open than usual and he attempts to take advantage of it.
“You know Garcia’s invited everyone out for tacos,” He starts in a gentle tone, knowing your alarm bells will start sounding.
“I don’t do social gatherings, you know that.” You shake your head, looking down at the book in your lap.
“Wouldn’t you say that this, you and me, is a social gathering?”
“I don’t know if two people qualify as a gathering.”
“It could be fun. You never let yourself relax here, maybe a change of pace could be good for you.”
“Says the man who stays until 11 at night?” You challenge, and the corner of his mouth raises in a smirk.
“If the man that stays until 11 at night can drag himself out for tacos then why can’t you?”
“Fine. I’ll finish my food and then I’m gone.”
It’s how you end up looking at yourself in the mirror, stupidly asking yourself if you look presentable enough for people that you see everyday. You roll your eyes at yourself, adjust your turtleneck and head out to the restaurant.
Dinner is less instrusive than you expected. More often than not your observing, watching the team laugh and joke together. You get a sense that they’re a family, and you don’t deny that you wish you felt safe enough to be a part of it. They ask you surface level questions, ones that you can give vague answers and when you glance over at Hotch he gives you a small nod of encouragement, his lips ever so slightly upturned. The night passes quickly. The rest of the team opt to go out drinking but you and Hotch decide to head home.
“Wasn’t so bad was it?” He jokes as the two of you make your way out of the parking lot.
You shrug. “It could’ve been worse.”
“It’ll be better next time.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You raise your voice slightly as you back towards your car.
“How so?“
“There is no next time.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face when his mouth drops open. You’re tempted to wink, but then that would just encourage him. Instead you wave, murmur a soft goodnight and pile into your car.
Hotch is planted firmly in place, watching your graceful movements. He can’t help but be intrigued by you and the fortress you’ve holed yourself in. As he drives home he finds himself thinking of ways to break down your walls, to comfort you through whatever has made you so guarded. He knows that he shouldn’t want to, but he can’t help himself. Not when you’re so young and have so much life to live and love to find. He can see himself in you, and he doesn’t want you to make the same mistakes. He’s worried that just like himself, you won’t let anyone in, him included.
------
You’ve been on the team for a year now and you can’t deny that you’ve broken some of your rules. You find yourself calling Spencer by his first name, he’s too much of a puppy not too. Garcia has figured out how to get you to come out with them a couple times but you stopped that when you found yourself wanting to open up to them. It’s only acceptable because it’s just a few of them; Spencer, Garcia…Hotch. He’s the one that can make you smile or give out a chuckle. Everyone else is still at arm's length, though they admittedly know more about your life than you had wanted. You still feel that your boundaries with them are good enough. With Hotch that’s a different story.
You don’t realize it until the team comes home from a case around midday. Usually Hotch would sit next to you on the plane but today he doesn’t. It was a difficult case. Too many bodies dropped to catch this sicko and it was taking a toll on everyone, but things like this always weighed the heaviest on Hotch. When everyone walks into the bullpen Hotch makes his way up to his office without so much as a glance in anyone’s direction. He shuts the door and draws the blinds, something he rarely does.
You knock softly on his office door before opening it enough to peak your head in. He doesn’t hear you, just continues to stare down something he’s holding in his hands. It looks as if its a picture frame but you can’t make it out, not that you can focus on it for long. Your attention is primarily on his face which is fixed into a frown, his eyes red and wet.
The visceral emotional reaction you have to seeing him like this shakes you to your core. You find that you have to make sure he’s okay. There was nothing that you could get you to walk away from him when he looks like a fragmented version of himself.
“Aaron?” The sound of his name coming out of your mouth is jarring for the both of you.
He looks up with wide eyes, clearing his throat as whatever’s in his hands clatters onto the desk. “Y/l/n, what can I do for you?” He runs a hand over his face, a poor attempt to wipe away his tears.
You close the door behind you, taking a few steps forward to perch yourself on the edge of his desk. “Do you...want to talk?”
“No, its alright, there’s no point.”
“Hey, you’re the one that told me that it was okay to have a moment. It's okay to be human. I’m here to lend an ear, Aaron, just like you always offered it.”
“I offered it and you never took me up on it.”
“We’re talking about you. Not me.”
“There’s no need for us to talk about it, you don’t like engaging with the team anyway.”
“Aaron-”
“Stop. Don’t. Please, just go. I can handle this on my own. I’m taking a page out of your book; you know better than anyone how to push people who care about you away.”
It dawns on you that he’s further into your heart than you thought. You realize that Hotch is the only one that can hurt you because his words make your chest ache and tears prick your eyes. Turning away you almost make it out the door when your legs refuse to take you any further.
You face him again, taking a deep, defeated breath. “I’m different with you.”
His eyebrows knit together, and he stands, coming to sit on the edge of his desk. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Everything is different with you. I told myself when I got here I wouldn’t open up. I refused to have another person take a piece of me, but you could have every piece of me. Any piece of me that you want you can have Aaron.
He blinks rapidly, but doesn’t say anything so you continue to speak.
“It feels like they’ve all returned, all the pieces that have been taken away from me in the past, they’re back because you look at me like I’m whole and so I am.” You look down at your fingers that are knitting together, the gravity of your vulnerable state sinking in.
“Was I just supposed to come to this conclusion on my own?”
“No, the point was for you to never know. I don’t do this,” you motion between the two of you, “not anymore. It’s easier to be closed off. But telling you the truth was the only thing I could think of to get you to open up to me.”
“You care enough for me to make that compromise?”
“I’d do anything for you, Aaron. You’re my Achilles heel.” You take another step towards him, voice desperate as you try to get your point across.
He raises his hand, smooths it over your face before running his thumb over your bottom lip. You’re frozen in disbelief, brain malfunctioning not only from the shock that he’s touching you like this but at the softness and warmth of his touch. He’s gentle with a feather light touch, and yet you feel as if your knees could give out. “You’re mine too.”
“I am?”
“Yes, since the moment we met.” You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head. “Before you ask me why I didn’t say anything, you said it yourself, you don’t do this. I didn’t think you wanted something with me.”
“You’re the only person that could ever make me want something more than lonely.”
“Come here.” He stretches out his other hand to you and you gladly take it, rushing into his embrace so quickly that he rocks back and has to sit further down the desk. It’s intoxicating to be enveloped in him, surrounded by his presence and his scent. When you tilt your head up to look at him he’s already gazing at you. You take a chance, pushing up on your toes to press your lips to his. A groan of surprise leaves his throat but he kisses you back wholeheartedly, his grip on your waist tightening. You find that you want to perch in his lap but know that this is new, that neither of you is ready so instead you bring your hands up his body and cup his face. When he pulls away his brown eyes are charged with energy, chest heaving. “We’ll go slow, but I won’t let you down.”
For the first time since he’s met you, you give him a real smile, one that makes his heart swell with pride. “I know you won’t, not with a heart like yours.”
part 2 here.
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