#criminal minds x platonic!reader

[the-guilty-writer]

The Fake Doctor

Request from anon: Young autistic reader who’s Derek’s daughter and Derek needs Reid’s help with her 

Derek Morgan x daughter!reader

Summary: After babysitting you, Spencer isn't sure how to bring up to Derek that he thinks you're autistic.

A/N: This is very short and really the best I could come up with. I very rarely write young children readers, but I figured out a way to make this one work by making it more Derek and Spencer centric than reader centric.

CW: just lots of fluff

---

Derek looked down the extraordinary long list in front of him and sighed. He didn't normally write a list for the babysitter, but he was worried about Spencer’s child-watching capabilities.

Derek was, for the first time in what he felt was a long time, going out on a date. Of course, your normal sitter canceled last minute due to having the flu. He’d gotten the text that morning at work and was about to cancel his date as well when Reid had offered up his services. Derek knew Spencer was good with kids and you liked him, but your dad was a bit skeptical about if the young doctor really knew what he was getting himself into.

Did a babysitter with an eidetic memory even need a list?

Derek didn’t have time to decide if he should throw it out or not because the doorbell rang through the house. Even though you were distracted by your favorite TV show, you still covered your ears and made a face at the high-pitched sound.

He made a mental note to himself to change the bell to something more pleasant, and walked to the front door to let Spencer in. “Hey, Reid.” Derek let his colleague through the door. “Thanks again for doing this. I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem,” Spencer replied. The two men walked toward the kitchen. “I didn’t have any plans besides reading.” The doctor held a thick book under one arm.

“Well I wrote everything down,” Derek said, handing Reid the list. “But you know how to reach me if you have questions.” While Spencer read through the list, your dad made his way to you. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hi daddy,” you replied. It made Derek smile - he’d heard from lots of parents that you’d probably switch to “dad” soon enough, but you were still stuck calling him “daddy” and he truly hoped that never went away. “Are you going out with your friend for dinner?”

Derek’s date had been on the calendar for over a week now to prepare you that he wouldn’t be home for bedtime tonight. The unpredictable schedule of his job made you anxious, so when he could let you know about a scheduled event, he put it on the calendar in the kitchen. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but it seemed to help take the edge off.

“Yep,” he kneeled down in front of you. “Dr. Reid is here.”

“The fake doctor,” you said. Derek couldn’t help but laugh and it was only made funnier by the expression on Spencer’s face.

“Yeah, he’s going to stay with you while I go out, like we talked about earlier. Okay?”

You nodded and threw your arms around your father’s shoulders. “I love you, daddy.”

Derek hugged you back tightly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He planted a gentle kiss on top of your head and you went back to watching your show, hugging your arms around your knees as if it replaced the absence of your dad’s presence.

“Good luck,” Spencer said to him, as he left the house.

“You too, kid,” Derek plastered a joking smile on his face to cover up his nerves. It wasn’t his date he was nervous about; he was far more worried about Spencer taking care of you.

---

Spencer sat in one of the armchairs in the living room, reading his book over again for the second time. The only reason it wasn’t the third time was because he wasn’t sure what to say to Derek when he got home. Of course, what Spencer had to say was in your best interest, but that didn’t make it seem any less like he had been profiling you.

Just as he was beginning to revise his opening sentence in his head, there was a click with the opening of the front door and light footsteps along the hardwood.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek said with a small but tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Spencer tried his best to control the nervous pitch of his voice. “How was your date?”

“It was good, actually,” he said. “How was my baby girl?”

“She was good.” Spencer tried to look more casual as he walked closer, but he’d forgotten that your dad knew his tells better than he knew his own.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan’s brow furrowed with concern. Spencer paused and opened his mouth, but paused before he could go further. “Spit it out.”

“I think she might be autistic.” Spencer searched Derek’s face for an adverse reaction - guilt, denial, anger. What he didn’t expect was for him to say, “Yeah. I know,” and go about putting his coat away like the doctor’s statement was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ve known for a couple months now,” Derek continued. “It’s part of why I was concerned about you watching her. She doesn’t do great with last minute changes. It’s also why she calls you ‘the fake doctor.’ I had to explain to her why we weren’t going to see you when we went to see the real doctor.”

“Medical doctor,” Spencer corrected. “And I’m not qualified to diagnose anything, but I can give you an opinion.”

Derek smirked. “Well, I know I already owe you, but I could use your help with special interest research.”

Spencer nodded happily. “I’m pretty filled in on what she already knows after tonight.” He thought about the way your face had lit up when you talked, how excited you had been when he gave you a new fun fact, the joy that radiated off you.

“I’m sure you are, pretty boy,” Derek smiled. “But I know she’d love to know more.” he paused. “And I would like to know more too - about how I can help her.”

“Of course,” Spencer replied. “She’s lucky to have you as a dad.”

“Thanks.” Derek’s voice switched from genuine appreciation to a teasing tone when he said, “We’re both lucky she has an uncle that’s a fake doctor.”

And this time, Spencer couldn’t help but laugh.

[overtrred28]

Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. | Emily Prentiss x GN!reader

Prequel to ‘Welcome Home Kiss’.

Summary; Emily’s past life has finally been revealed and it’s time to get her back. But when they don’t have her anymore Y/N finds it difficult. 

Pairing; Emily Prentiss x GN!reader, platonic!BAU team x GN!reader

Warnings; descriptions of blood/gore, heartbreak, mentions of ED, smoking, swearing (so much angst omg)

Words; 2.5k

No one is permitted to steal, copy or reblog my work as their own!!

Gif is not mine, @imagining-in-the-margins. (couldn’t find one from Emily’s funeral)

Between discovering Emily’s past life as Lauren Reynolds and finding the location of the warehouse Ian was now holding Emily, a whirlwind of emotions flowed through Y/N. Sadness, anger, disappointment and most of all worry. They were so scared for their lover; Was she okay? Was she hurt? Was she strong enough to fight back? These were all questions that flowed through their mind as they drove to the warehouse. 

After a lot of debating, Y/N had joined Derek alongside SWAT officers on their search of the building. They had already taken care of the guards out the front and now they were weaving their way through the building silently. 

*crash* 

Y/N’s ears pricked up at the loud noise coming from the building, it was close. Without hesitation Y/N took off running ahead of Derek, all logic leaving their mind as they ran to the source of the noise. 

“Y/N.” Emily managed to whisper out through the pain when she spotted them. 

“No.” A soft gasp came from Y/N’s lips as she spotted Emily lying on the ground with a wooden stake poking out of her. They ran to her, cradling her head in their hands. “Emily?” They whispered, tears pricking at their eyes. Seconds later Derek came running in, jumping down to Emily’s side. 

“I got her! I got her in the basement on the south side. I need a medic.” He spoke into his comms, the noise carrying through to everyone on the outside. “Prentiss.” He called out grabbing her hands, soft sobs coming from Y/N next to him. “Hey, it’s me. I’m right here. You’re gonna be alright.” Emily’s eyes flutter open and closed, she’s fading fast. Y/N couldn’t do anything but hold their lover’s head, watching her.

“Stay with me, baby. Come on, stay with me.” Derek panicked watching her. 

“Let me go.” Emily breathed out feeling the blood drain from her. 

“No, no. I am not letting you go.” Derek protested. “Help us!” He shouted into the large space, hoping someone would hear him. Looking back at her his heart shattered. “Listen to me. I know why you did all of this. I know what you did for Declan.” Derek tried to get Emily’s attention back but it wasn't working. “I’m so proud of you.” He spoke with grit. “You understand that? I am proud of you because you are my friend, and you are my partner.” His voice gets shaky. They both notice her eyes closing again. “No, Emily!”

“Baby, come on, stay with us.” Y/N’s voice cracked. “Don’t leave me like this.” Y/N stroked Emily’s hair like they always do. “We have our future planned out, you and me against the world, right?.” Tears dripped down their face as they shook their head. 

“If you can hear us, please just squeeze my hand.” Derek gripped onto Emily’s hand, suddenly feeling a gentle squeeze from her. “Yes, there you go. There you go, baby. Just keep squeezing.” He held her hands tightly and within seconds the medics showed up. Derek pulled himself and Y/N away from Emily, holding them tightly in his arms. 

They watched as the medics put her on a stretcher, carrying her out of the warehouse. They followed closely behind, walking in what felt like slow motion. Derek had to guide Y/N out, holding them in his grasp as they met the team outside. Y/N was in shock, every noise was muffled as they walked to the SUV, Derek slipping in beside them. All they could do was stare at whatever was in front of them, eventually getting out of the car and following the team when they reached the hospital. 

They sat in a chair in the corner for what felt like hours or days. Rossi, Hotch and Garcia tried to talk to them but they couldn’t respond, staring at the floor, legs bouncing uncontrollably.  

Eventually JJ walked over to the team, catching everyone’s attention, even Y/N’s, causing them to lift their head. The first thing they all noticed was her red eyes. 

“No.” Garcia was the first to speak, shaking her head as she began to sob. JJ swallowed. 

“She never made it off the table.” JJ finally spoke, breathing deeply. 

Y/N’s body froze, blocking out all the background noise and falling back into shock. 

The love of their life was dead. Gone. They didn’t move, they couldn’t. They were paralysed as their heart shattered into a million pieces. They looked down at their hands, still stained red with her blood. They stayed silent, still, ignoring her friends around her grieving. They didn’t know how long they sat there, staring at their hands but eventually a hand grabbed their shoulder. 

“Kiddo,” Rossi softly spoke. “Come on, you’re coming home with me.” He pulled them up from their seat by the shoulders, wrapping his arm around their shoulders. They didn’t speak, they couldn’t. Somehow they made their way to the car and eventually inside Rossi’s house. He brought them into the guest room without a word and helped them into bed. He pulled the covers up and stroked their hair. 

“Rossi,” They finally spoke, still staring at the wall in front of them. He was just about to leave the room but sat back down on the bed. “Tell me this is all just a bad dream.” Their voice cracked as they spoke, looking up at the man who treated them like his own. He hesitated, not knowing what to say. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” He leant down and pressed a kiss to their head, holding their hand. He stood up again and left the room, leaving the door open just in case. They didn’t fall asleep for a while, staring at the wall emotionless until exhaustion finally kicked in. This is where they stayed for the next few days, only taking water from Rossi when he forced them to drink. They didn’t eat, they barely slept, spending most of the time staring at the wall, or the ceiling, or the empty spot in the bed that they sometimes shared with Emily. 

Within days they held a funeral for Emily. And it was the hardest day of Y/N’s life. They got up and Rossi took them to their apartment so they could get dressed. It was a sunny day, Y/N felt this was wrong for a funeral. They didn’t speak to anyone, not when they carried her coffin with their teammates, not when Hotch asked them if they wanted to say a few words, and not even when Penelope approached them. It was hard enough being there, burying their best friend, their lover and who was supposed to be their life partner. Talking to anyone was an extra effort they couldn’t do. 

Only 6 days after her death, everyone was expected back at work. Y/N didn’t show up that first Monday. After the funeral no one heard from them, calls going to voicemail and texts staying on delivered. They had cut off all communication from their team, instead staying locked in their apartment, moving themselves from their bed, to the couch and back to the bed. They still weren’t eating, only drinking water to stay alive, not that they felt they had much to live for anymore. 

During that first week back the team had a case, heading to Portland quickly and leaving Penelope behind in her tech lab. Every day between 5 and 6 pm a quick knock would appear on their door, followed by the sweet voice of Penelope Garcia would flow through the wood, asking if they were alright but never receiving an answer. It wasn’t till Thursday night when she came by again that she became seriously concerned for Y/N’s health, spotting the full containers of food she had left them at the door 2 days prior. 

“Y/N? Please answer the door. I just want to help you.” Penelope called through the door, face painted with concern. After minutes of silence she called Derek who had just gotten back from their case, telling him to get over here asap. He was there within 5 minutes.

“Y/L/N!” He yelled through the wood. “If you don’t open the door I’m going to kick it in.” He waited, hoping it would open and their face would appear but when it didn’t, he had no choice but to get it open himself. He kicked the door open with force, walking strongly into their apartment, searching the kitchen and living room for them. Penelope ran into their bedroom, gasping loudly when she finally spotted them. They were passed out in the bed, 2 times smaller than when she last saw them and barely breathing. Derek rushed in, checking their pulse to find that it was thready and weak. He picked them up bridal style, carrying them out of the apartment and down to his car, Penelope close behind. 

When they woke up again, all they heard was beeping and hushed voices close by. They opened their eyes to a dark room with brighter lights coming from a hallway outside. 

“Wha- where-” They sat up quickly, heart racing at the unfamiliar environment, turning to their right when they felt a soft hand touch their own. Penelope’s sweet face had a beaming smile plastered but glassy, red eyes showed that she was crying previously. 

“You’re in the hospital.” She calmed them down, looking over to the other corner where Derek was standing against the wall. “We found you in your apartment, you-” Her voice cut off, tears fell down her face. 

“You were barely breathing Y/N. The doctors said you hadn’t eaten anything in over a week.” Derek moved to the end of the bed, staring Y/N deep in the eyes. They felt terrible, creating more stress and worry for the team after the past 2 weeks. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N dropped their head in shame. 

“It’s okay.” Penelope placed a soft finger under their chin, making them look up at her. “We’re here to help you, you know that right?” She spoke softly. They nodded their head in response, travelling their eyes over to Derek. 

It was another week of rest at home, along with supplements to help Y/N get nutrients back into their body before they were allowed back at work. When they did return they were made to have a conversation with Strauss, discussing their prolonged absence before they were dismissed and cleared for the field.

“Y/L/N.” Hotch’s voice carried through the bullpen. Y/N looked up from their desk and towards his office. He was standing in the doorway, motioning his head and indicating for them to come up. They sighed, dropping their pen and standing up. They knew what it was about, Emily. The rest of the team had already had their conversations with Hotch, discussing their feelings and Y/N was the last to go in. They were trying to avoid it ever since returning to work, hiding away from his view everytime he walked past, but it was inevitable. They walked up the stairs and into his office, closing the door and meeting him on the couch. 

“Y/N.” They didn’t look at him, keeping their lips sealed shut. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and genuine. Their focus remained trained on the floor, legs beginning to bounce from anxiety. They took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears and emotion. 

“I don’t want to do this.” They whispered, shaking their head. “I can’t.” They sighed. 

“Why not?” He sounded like a therapist, voice laced with concern for the agent. They bit their bottom lip, shaking their head again. More tears began to rise in their eyes. 

“Because-” Y/N turned their head to look at their boss. “Because if I do then it becomes real. I don’t want it to be real. I want her to walk through those doors like it was all some big joke.” They looked out at the glass doors. “But she won’t.” Their voice cracked, tears finally falling. “She’s gone, and I-I can’t do this without her Hotch.” They stood abruptly, pacing back and forth. “I’m not me. I’m not who I was. I-I’m broken.” They stopped, staring down at Hotch. 

“You’re not broken, Y/N.” He stood, meeting their eyes.

“Yes, I am. I haven’t cried, I-I can’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I can’t breathe.” Y/N looked at him. 

“You’re not broken, you’re grieving.” He spoke calmly. “You’re allowed to grieve, Y/N.” He explained. 

“I don’t want to.” They shook their head again, hands clutching at their chest. “I held her in my arms, she was breathing.” They were back in the warehouse, holding Emily in their lap as she began to fade.  “I loved her so much.” They look up at their boss, their friend, and their heart shatters again. 

“I know, I know you did.” He stepped closer to them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders, enveloping them in a hug for the first time ever. They sobbed into his chest, not caring about the unprofessional nature of it, he wasn’t the big bad boss right now. He was their friend and he was comforting a friend in a difficult time. 

The sobs slowed and their breathing evened out, Hotch letting go of them.

“Thank you.” Y/N looked up at him, smiling slightly. “Would it be okay if I left a bit early today? There’s somewhere I need to be.” Hotch nodded in response, understanding their situation. 

When they left the office, they headed to the cemetery for the first time since the funeral. The walk from the car to her grave was tough, taking one step at a time. When they reached her headstone they sat on the grass in front, staring at her name engraved in stone. 

“Hey baby.” They smiled. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit yet, it’s been hard.” They sighed. Then they reached into their coat pocket, digging around for what had become their current habit. They pulled out a lighter and pack of cigarettes, lighting one in their mouth. They took a deep breath and puffed out the smoke, blowing it into the cool wind. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about this.” They joked to her headstone. “Picked up a very old habit from high school, you’d probably hate it and throw it out if you could.” Their face dropped with their words. 

“I miss you.” They spoke again after a minute of silence. “Like a lot.” They took another hit of their cigarette. “It’s hard doing this without you. Life that is. I don’t even remember how I did it before I met you, but I guess I’m going to have to figure it out aren’t I?” They smiled painfully. They sat in silence at her grave for a while, waiting until their cigarette was nothing but a nub. This might have been the first time visiting her grave, but it wasn’t the last. 

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[m1lfsh4ke]

Paget Valerie Brewster😭. Honestly, same.

[sammyluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ .  something to cling to — aaron hotchner

cw : gn!reader, father-figure!hotch, hurt/comfort, angst, reader is around 18-22/a young adult in college, set sometime before/close to the beginning of season one, dead parents (reader's dad), abandonment, overall parental issues lol, anxiety, crying, panic attack probably, ft haley and the early season one team, food mentions, poor editing, 4.6K words. thank you @beatlewishes for inspiring me!

summary : aaron has been a sort of father figure since the death of your father. he picks up from your apartment at the start of winter break only to find out that your mother has left you.

aaron doesn’t hear from your mother very often. not that he needs to. you’re an adult with your own phone and campus apartment and abilities to communicate when you need something from him. that just means he takes things extra seriously when they come from her. so when she texts him, asking if he can pick you up for winter break and let you stay in his home just until her work day ends, he immediately responds with a resolute, yes, of course.

it’s the sort of thing that you’d normally ask him about, but it’s nice to see your mother be the one to take the initiative to ensure that you don’t have to take the subway with your heavy bags, all alone in the cold.

the text he receives is last minute, and he leaves work earlier than usual to arrive at your apartment on time. your mother told him you have to be out of campus housing by 8pm, and it’s a bit of a drive from quantico to your school. unfortunately, he has to be on a call the whole way over, and never gets the chance to text you that he’s on his way. he just hopes that you know he’ll be the one to pick you up rather than your mom.

the look on your face when you open the door for him tells you right away that you weren’t told. he holds back a sigh, giving you a gentle smile instead.

“hi, kid. i know you were expecting your mom. i’m sorry. she had to take an extra shift at work, but she’ll come pick you up from my house later tonight. that okay?” he asks sincerely, even though you don’t really have a choice.

you try to smile back. at least he’s here, you suppose. it means something that your mom asked him to come get you when she couldn’t, though you wish she’d have told you about it so that you didn’t get so excited by the knock on the door, expecting it to be her. she’s sort of distant these days, and you barely get home because you work on the weekends. you haven’t seen her in a while, and though things have been hard for years now, you still were looking forward to seeing her. she gives good hugs and promised to take you to your favorite restaurant on the way home to celebrate the end of your semester.

“hi, aaron. of course it’s okay. thank you for coming to get me. it’s too damn cold for the subway,” you say, trying not to sound disappointed. you’re sure he can see right through you, just how he can with nearly anyone at all, and he knows you well.

“it certainly is too cold. i’m glad your mother texted me. can i carry anything for you?” he always offers to carry your things, even if there isn’t much. you hand him your heaviest bag, and carry all the totes and looser things in your own arms. you murmur a thanks, to which he replies, “of course,” then watches as you balance a considerable amount of bags in both arms as you turn off the front light and lock the door. he’d offer to help with those too if he didn’t already know that you’re stubborn and like to take care of things for yourself.

his car is right in the parking lot, but he wishes you’d put on a scarf or a hat or maybe both before going outside. it’s quite cold; there’s snow in the overnight forecast. haley told him so this morning. he walks at a brisk pace so he can get you in the heated car sooner.

there’s enough room for your things in the backseat, so he doesn’t bother with the trunk. he puts your duffle bag on the seat, then opens your own door as you set down the rest of your things before heading to the driver’s seat. he knows he doesn’t have to worry about it, but he still checks that you’ve buckled your seat belt before he pulls out of the parking lot.

you’re polite and never snappy, entertaining his questions about how things have been since the last time he saw you, which wasn’t all that long ago. he’s a very busy man, arguably busier than your mom, but you’ve seen him more recently than you saw her. he’s very caring like that, though outwardly quite stern and stoic. you were very intimidated by him when you were younger, scared even. but your father was friends with him for years and years, close enough that you sometimes would forget that they worked together. it’s not something you forget anymore, not after your dad died on the job. and since then, you very rarely see him in his casual clothes like you used to as a kid.

he’d be over at the house in t-shirts and quarter-zips, but since your father died, your mother doesn’t invite him over for casual dinners much anymore. he’s become busier, too, so nearly any time he visits or takes you out to dinner, he’s still in his suit and tie. that’s not something you mind, of course, it’s just one of the many things that have changed, even if small and often inconsequential.

when aaron runs out of things to say, he sighs to himself, quiet enough so you won’t hear it or overthink it. you lean against the cold window and keep your eyes trained on the passing street lights and shops and tall dc office buildings. he knows you’re feeling upset that you’re mom couldn’t make it, but that you’re being adult about it, by being kind to him and trying to talk it through in your head, like always. you’ve always been a little too adult for being so young, he thinks. he can’t blame you, though. 

there’s simple lights on his front porch and a pretty christmas tree showing through the front window. haley hugs you when you step inside, and you can feel her growing belly against you. their house is perfectly warm and it smells like dinner’s been cooked not too long ago. you give her the warmest smile you can muster.

aaron puts his hand on your shoulder as you head to the table for dinner and you start to relax. maybe this isn’t what you were wanting, but it’s nice. you’d been hoping to have dinner with them soon, anyway, so what’s the harm in it being now. haley’s always so sweet, extra maternal and doting now that she’s pregnant. aaron can tell she likes the way he acts around you, caring and soft, because it makes her think of how he’ll be for their baby on the way.

you’re very grateful for a warm, home cooked meal after a semester of whatever you can scrounge up in your apartment or the less than ideal dining halls. after dinner, you get comfortable on their couch. aaron sits on the other end and turns on the tv to the channel he thinks you’ll like best, at least for background noise. he’s relieved to see you working through your disappointment of not seeing your mother right away. it pains him to see you upset in any capacity.

but the contented calm of being in a warm, familiar home doesn’t last all that long for you. your mother’s night shifts always go late. then there’s the twenty minute drive from there to here. you understand this very well, but conversation with aaron lulls and the tv runs turn boring and the clock ticks late enough that a tired haley retires to bed. you’re naturally anxious, unsure how to react as your night is ruined once again.

you try to call her, text her, call her again. aaron watches you carefully. you huff out in frustration. “she’s not picking up. she should’ve been here half an hour ago.” he can tell that you’re covering up your worry with a hint of anger.

“i know. i’m sure she’ll be here soon, she’s probably on the road right now. that’s why she’s not picking up,” he placates.

“no,” you shake your head, “the calls just aren’t going through,” you stress, a hint of your anxiety peaking through the cracks of your weary composure. “it says her phone is off.” this sparks real concern for him.

“let me try,” he says, hiding his own worry to avoid adding to yours. he almost promises to get you home with her tonight, but he’s learned not to make promises he doesn’t know for sure that he can keep. when he calls her, he steps away. not to hide anything from you, just so you don’t see his face as he calls her once, twice, three times. she doesn’t pick up and you’re noticeably distressed now. 

he sits right next to you on the couch and puts his arm around your shoulder. “her phone could’ve just died, sweetheart,” he quickly assures you, knowing that you’re already thinking about worst case scenarios.

because the worst case scenario has happened to you before, and no matter how many years it’s been, that feeling of dread and worry and then absolute devastation never leaves you. aaron was the second person you cried to after your father died. your mother was of course the first. now, you try not to cry in front of either of them, but you fear it’ll happen tonight.

you’re more than anxious, on edge, and maybe at your wits end tonight. after finding out about one dead parent, you worry extra. you scare easily. and this semester hasn’t necessarily been easy. you’re so tired. not just pulled an all-nighter and fell asleep on your computer for an exam tired, but months of stress and loneliness were supposed to come to an end today, but have just gotten worse kind of tired. and that’s very quickly tugging at your ability to think rationally or keep any sort of composure.you wring your hands in your lap and your shoulders are tense underneath his steady arm. he gives your bicep a comforting rub.

“we’ll find her. she’s alright. we’ll wait up a little longer for her. if she doesn’t show up tonight, you’ll sleep here and i’ll call my team. they’ll find her and make sure she’s alright,” he reassures you. he knows you’re worried something bad has happened to her. 

he doesn’t want you to know that he’s worried that she’s left on purpose. the way she texted him to take you home today, neither of your calls going through, and the way he can tell even from afar that she’s been distant as of late makes him wary. and he’ll have to tell you eventually, but he’d rather wait until he has better proof, rather than a hunch. he knows his suspicions would upset you, likely make you angry with him.

“shouldn’t we start looking for her now?” you ask nervously, eyes already teary. his heart clenches at the sight.

“well, honey, i’d start with calling her workplace to see when she left,” he tells you, leaving out the ‘or if she was there at all’ part, “they’re already closed, though.” he takes another look at you and sighs softly, not in frustration, but concerned affection. “but you’re right. it’s a good idea to at least check if there’s someone there still. i’ll call there and a few people who might be able to help. but we’ll be able to find out the most tomorrow morning, okay?”

his words provide both assurance and a new bout of urgency. “but what if something happened to her?”

aaron’s face softens a bit more, just for you. “i understand you’re worried about that. and you know i’ll always take this sort of thing seriously. that’s my whole job, buddy. i really think she’s alright. you know she gets lonely at home and stays at her friend’s sometimes. and… you know she sometimes has bad nights that she’d rather you not see. there’s lots of potential reasons why she hasn’t shown up yet, and i can promise you, statistically, the odds that something very bad has happened to her aren’t as high as you think. she works in a safe area and your mother is a very smart woman. i’m not telling you not to worry or that i won’t do everything i can to find her right now, i’m just telling you that i think she’ll be okay, yeah?”

you listen closely, almost clinging to the sound of his low, comforting voice to avoid spiraling. you nod along, swallowing nervously. “okay,” you relent, huffing the word out, but not relaxing one bit. your body can’t get rid of the memories of finding out that your father had died. since then, you’ve never done well with waiting or uncertainty. 

“there’s not much you can do to help me. will you try to get some sleep? the guest room is set up.” the moment he suggests it, he physically feels you tense even further underneath him. “or you can stay up right here to wait for her while i make some calls.” that gets him a nod.

the idea of being left alone with just your anxious thoughts, the dark, and the quiet as company is unsettling to say the least. that’s what trying to fall asleep in the guest room means.

aaron can easily assume that’s why you’d rather stay here, but he knows it’ll do you no good to try and stay awake. that’s just more overthinking and lost sleep. so he changes the channel to nature documentaries and sits at the dining room table where you can see him through the doorway and just barely hear the low rhythm of his deep voice over the tv. he doesn’t want you focused on what he’s saying, but more so his steady, reassuring presence. 

it’s 3:04 in the morning when hotch runs out of things to do. he’s called his best assets that might pick up at this time, and written down every detail about the situation and your mother to share with his team. he looks through into the living room to see your drooping eyelids and slouched form. a little longer and you’ll probably fall asleep on your own, but he wonders if he could coax you to lay down with a blanket and a pillow. he stands quietly, and your eyes flick up to look at him when he walks past. he gives you a small smile, doesn’t answer the question in your tired eyes yet.

he takes the comforter and pillow from the bed in the guest room and before you can protest, he lays the blanket over you.

“did you find anything?” you ask sleepily, hesitantly taking the pillow from him as he hands it over. you’ll feel less guilty if you sleep on the couch rather than a comfy mattress. the pillow lays over the plush of the comforter in your lap.

“not yet,” he says gently, “i wasn’t able to get a hold of anyone at your mom’s work, but i got in contact with a few people i know who can help. the team will have plenty to work with in the morning. i already emailed and asked them to come in early.”

you give him a dejected nod. “thank you,” you murmur. he takes one of your hands in his.

“of course,” he says firmly, like he needs you to know just how much he means that. there’s absolutely no hesitation in his desire to help you. he’d stay up until three in the morning every night until he does what he can to fix this. unfortunately, his suspicion is that it’s something he can’t fix, but he’s prepared to be with you every step of the way.

“i’m too anxious to sleep,” you whisper. he crouches in front of you, his knees bumping against your shins for a moment through the fabric of the blanket.

“i know,” he murmurs back, taking one of your restless hands in his before pulling you into a hug, not bothering to move the softness of the comforter and pillow between your bodies. you sink into him, wanting to cry, but too tired. you’ll probably cry tomorrow instead. his hand smooths over the back of your head, coming to rest on your back right below your neck. it’s so steady and firm, warm and comforting. “i’m sorry this is happening. we’ll figure it out. why don’t you lay down? i’ll sit with you if you think it’ll help. i’m just waiting for someone to call me back.”

“okay,” you mumble into his shoulder, taking a long, deep breath and savoring the shield of his arms against all else for a few moments longer. then you pull away and he sets the pillow down on the couch cushion for you. you sigh, lowering your head and pulling your legs up. you take care of the blanket yourself, but he still takes the time to make sure your feet are nice and covered so you don’t get cold overnight. he turns off the last lamp in the room, though the dim chandelier over the dinner shines through the doorway. then he pulls the coffee table closer to the couch and sits on it.

by the time he’s settled, your eyes are already closed, but there’s a pinch between your brows and a frown on your lips. he frowns back at you, his gaze sweeter and sadder now that you can’t see him. one of his sturdy hands finds yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as if he can soothe away the crease right above your nose. a little huff of air leaves your nose and he frowns deeper. his other hand lands gently on the side of your head, smoothing over it to calm you and ease you into sleep. haley always falls asleep faster with his hands in her hair, so he thinks it might help you.

you feel his thumb brush over your eyebrow and you wonder if he knows that your dad used to do that when you were younger or if he’s just trying to get the anxious muscles in your face to relax. you’re pretty sure the frown never leaves your face, but you fall asleep much quicker than you thought you would. 

it’s not very restful, but your body keeps you in the dark until it picks up on the movement of aaron and haley going through their morning routine. there’s hushed footsteps and the sound of cereal pouring into a ceramic bowl, milk splashing.

you stretch slowly, neck aching, eyes dry, stomach and heart heavy. then you pad into the kitchen, feeling oddly shy and sheepish after overtaking the couple’s couch for the night and keeping aaron up and away from his wife until so late. they’re both in the kitchen, aaron ready for work and haley pouring her bowl of cereal. she looks tired when she turns in your direction at the sound of your footsteps, and aaron looks composed as always. haley looks at you with a much more obviously sympathetic expression, but he smiles at you too.

“would you like some cereal, honey?” haley asks, walking over to give your shoulder a little rub. “if you feel like something else, you’re more than welcome to anything in our fridge. don’t tell aaron, but there’s frozen waffles in the freezer.” the thought of eating makes your stomach churn a bit, but you think you can handle something as simple as cereal.

“just cereal is alright, thank you,” you murmur.

“of course, sweetheart,” she smiles, grabbing you a bowl and spoon and letting you serve yourself. you sit at the table in silence, slowly chewing the food that takes a little bit like nothing to you. neither of them ask you anything or try to make you talk when you’re clearly not wanting to. aaron stands to put his bowl away and leave. haley watches with a sigh as you quickly stand to meet him at the door.

“please let me come with you,” you ask, letting a bit of vulnerability seep into your voice. “i won’t be any trouble, i just– i don’t know if i can sit here and do nothing.” 

he purses his lips and studies you for a moment. sometimes it doesn’t help to have a family member hanging around as they search for someone. and sometimes they’re worse off there, too. but he knows you’ll listen if he asks you to just stay in his office and it might be good for you to see gideon. you’ve known him even longer than hotch.

“alright,” he relents, “why don’t you go grab a book, you won’t find the ones in my office to be any fun. get dressed quickly.” 

you nod once and your thank you trails behind you as you rush off to change out of your pajamas. then you’re in his car on the way to visit the bau after a long time. you haven’t been to the office in over a year. sometimes you avoid it like the plague, other times you try to visit more often to feel closer to your father when nothing else works.

gideon is the only one who’s there before hotch. when you were a kid you thought he lived there. he’s quick to give you a kind smile and warm hug. aaron thinks the hug does do you good, though it makes you a bit emotional when gideon says your name and a simple, “we’ll do our jobs and take care of it.” then he sends you back to aaron with a firm pat on your back.

aaron keeps you in his office after that, so you don’t see reid or morgan when they arrive. you catch a glimpse of morgan walking across the bullpen when you look out the window, though. it’s alright, you don’t really know them as well as hotch or gideon.

it takes a few long, silent, and tedious moments for you to settle enough, but you somehow find it in you to read the book aaron advised you to grab. you don’t really pick up all that much, but it’s a distraction. you scribble on some loose paper with a pen you unceremoniously lift from his desk. it takes a lot less time to get an update than you though it would. your hope was running low.

but hotch shows back up not to long after and closes the door behind him. he sits next to you. you stare at your hands.

“our technical analyst, garcia, was able to track your mother’s phone. it’s not turned off… but if looks like our calls weren’t going through. she didn’t answer, but garcia’s number was able to call her. we should be able to get a hold of her soon,” he explains evenly, gently, as he places a hand on your shoulders. there’s something, maybe more, that he’s not saying and you know it.

“…why weren’t our calls going through?” you whisper, afraid of the answer. he sighs like he’s afraid of giving it to you.

“it seems like she blocked our numbers, honey. we’ll keep looking until we’re sure she’s safe and we get in contact with her, but right now it looks like she’s… well, it looks like she’s running. garcia tracked her to a town in western pennsylvania. she’s stopped for gas along the i-80. we called her job. she put in her two weeks at the beginning of the month,,” he tells you, both apologetic and matter of fact. his suggestion hits you like a punch to the gut. they’ve found her. that’s good. aaron thinks she’s running, presumably away from you. not good. unacceptable, you feel.

“wh-why would she do that?” you ask, voice breaking and turning teary much faster than you intended for it to. you’re a bit horrified, and maybe a little lightheaded from it too. you’re sure that this can’t be real. 

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out. is there any reason you could think of?” he asks gently, trying not to make the question too abrasive. 

“no,” you insist, a little harshly and vehemently that it makes you feel a bit guilty. you’re angry and upset, though. “you’re asking me if there’s any reason i could think of that would explain her leaving me? s-supposedly rubbing away like- like some kind of teenager? except that means leaving her kid behind without a word? after promising me she’d pick me up and take me to dinner, is that what you’re asking?” you’re crying by the end of it. you hate how your anger always dissolves into these stupid, pitiful tears. 

aaron’s sorry that he asked, but it’s hard for him to believe it, too. he just wants to understand the situation. that’s how he figured out a way to start making it better. that’s his job. but he remembers that right now it’s his job to hug you. to tell you he’s sorry and that he’s honestly not sure what’s going on either. that he’ll figure it out, though, and get you back to your mom. maybe he’s not supposed to be completely honest, but he’s one for telling the full truth, so he tells you it might take time, but that he’ll be with you the whole time.

“i’m sorry, honey,” he says again. you cling to him and cry for a while. he fights the urge to check his watch and just keeps his hands cupping the back of your head and soothing up and down your back. 

you want to argue with him. to demand further proof, to insist that she’s innocent, like you’re her damn lawyer and he’s her prosecutor. that though makes you cry harder because you’re her child and he’s only trying to help. and you’re just so tired. far too tired to say anything, but a pained “why,” mumbled into his chest. he’s not perfectly sure, but he’s spent all last night and this morning figuring it out. he wishes he’d paid better attention, tried to see her more and picked up on things before she actually skipped town. god, he feels so sorry. 

“i don’t know,” he says quietly, a half truth at best. his whole job is to come to see and understand the why, and he has a few ideas, but it’s your mother’s job to explain it to you, not his. and his overly analytical conclusions, even if spoken gently, wouldn’t ease your mind one bit. “we’ll get her on the phone and we can ask her. we’ll figure it out. i want you to stay with haley and i until we’ve got everything sorted. is that alright with you?”

you wipe at your face and nod, still leaning against him. “okay.” you’re not sure how you feel about staying with your mother after all of this, even if she returns sooner than later. right now, it feels like aaron’s your only constant, even when he’s gone all the time. it’s just that he seems to come back each time, with a certain gentleness and the sort of soft smile that his coworkers don’t see very often. 

then, you suppose it’ll be weird. aaron will be away from home most of the time, and it’s not as if you can spend your days in his office. so you’ll be with haley, who’s about to become a mother, and you wonder if that’ll hurt too much.

but at the end of the day, you won’t be alone. “okay,” you repeat, as teary, a little more relieved, because you have something. something to cling to, and it has to be enough.

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Y/N: Aaron and I are having a baby.

Spencer: That's gre-

Y/N, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Together

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> The team knows something is up between yourself and Hotch, except Rossi seems to be the only one to put the pieces together.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of sick. Fluff. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The whole team knew something was up. They just didn’t know what. 

Usually, you were normal with everyone. Chatty. Smiley. Professional. Maybe a little blunt every now and again. 

But not this time. 

For the last week you had been…cold. Well, not with them, at least. 

But with Hotch? You had been as cold as ice. 

But no-one could pin why. 

Even if it had just been small things, like the feeling in the meeting room in the morning when it just seemed to be the two of you, or the small looks you both gave each other – which had started out as awkward, but then quickly turned to shame and clear annoyance, the latter being much more clear on your end. It was definitely clear now. 

From the beginning of the case, you had been quick to change subjects. Always staying on the case, which was normal. But not your abruptness to do so. And when Hotch tried to pull you aside as the others made their way to the main doors, you brushed him off. 

Hotch was someone you never brushed off. Not until recently. 

And when you all landed in Seattle, Hotch was assigning teams for who was driving. But before he could place you with himself, JJ and Morgan, you pushed past him. 

“I’m going with Rossi.”

And Hotch didn’t say a word. 

Instead, he watched you walk away with your go bag, throwing it into the trunk with Dave. He gave his orders to Prentiss on what would happen and she updated you in the car. 

However, forty five minutes into a ninety minute drive, Emily’s voice started to make you feel dizzy. Then the heat in the car felt like it was blasting. So you rolled down the window. But that didn’t help. 

“Garcia said she’s already sent over some case files- Hey, you okay?”

From the backseat, Emily leaned forward to get a better look at you. 

“I’m fine.”

But five minutes later, you changed your mind. 

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Okay, okay. Just hold on.”

The car had barely been put into park by the time you threw the door open, tore your seatbelt away and ran out. 

Less than ten feet from the open car door, the last three drinks and meal you ate came straight back up and soaked into the dry grass. 

You heard a second car pull up behind and then heard Morgan and Hotch’s voice. Dave had already reached you, placing a hand on your back before pulling your hair back. 

“Okay, take it easy. Are you okay?”

You could only hum before throwing up once more. He rubbed circles on your back for a moment before you finally finished throwing up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Is she okay? Y/n, are you-”

“I’m fine!” You called out, a little harsher than you had intended. 

Holding out a hand, Rossi signalled for Hotch to stop and stay where he was with the others. 

“She’s okay, she just needs a minute. Emily, do we have water in the car?”

“Yep, here.”

Making her way over, Emily poured some water onto a tissue before handing it to you. You wiped down your mouth and your hand before being handed the bottle by Dave. 

“Small sips, okay? Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, your back still to the rest of the team. “I just need a minute.”

“Aaron, we’ll meet you there.”

It took him a minute before he moved back to the car, but Hotch eventually nodded, calling out they’d see them at the precinct. 

“Do you know what it could be?” Emily asked. 

“Probably just some bad sushi.”

Emily nodded before getting back into the car. 

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Rossi asked once she was out of earshot. 

And for a moment, you paused. 

“Let’s just get going.”

Things only seemed to get worse from there. 

You managed to hide it as best as you could from the rest of the team, but every hour you had spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom throwing your guts up. 

A couple of officers did question where you had been when they couldn’t find you but hadn’t seen you leave the building. One mention of Aunt Flow and they didn’t ask again. 

Your coldness with Hotch didn’t ease, either. It just seemed to become more frigid. And everyone saw it. 

By the third day in Seattle, Prentiss and Morgan had questioned you on it in the break room. 

“Yeah, what do you have against Hotch all of a sudden? What, one week away from us and you’ve suddenly made an agenda against him?”

“Because I love you, I’m going to ask this only once. Please don’t ask about Hotch.”

Morgan and Prentiss looked between each other, slightly worriedly, but both silently agreed to drop it. 

“But you will sort it out?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know.”

A few hours later, you were coming back out of the bathroom when Rossi seemed to jump out at you. 

“Jeez. Rossi. Give a girl some warning next time.”

Dave smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Have we caught a break?”

“No, but I need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About the fact you’re running to the bathroom every hour to throw up.”

“Like I said, it was probably just some bad food. I’ll be okay.”

Only, as you started walking away, Rossi asked you a question. 

“What happened between you and Hotch?”

“Nothing.” You answered, your back still to him. 

“Really? Because I wouldn’t call it nothing. I’d call it strange.”

“Rossi, I’ve asked Morgan and Prentiss-”

“I know, and I heard. But, to be frank, I think you’re lying and you’re too scared to tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

But rather than voice it, Rossi just gave you a look. It took you a moment before you cracked a little. 

“Rossi…”

“You don’t have to tell me how or what happened, but I’m asking, just find out the truth. You don’t have to tell anyone. But I think the sooner you do it, the better it will be.”

“We’re in the middle of a case.”

Rossi shrugged, “Morgan and JJ are on their way back. Reid’s got it handled here. We’ll pick up some coffee on the way back as a cover. Let’s just go now.”

You seemed to hesitate, and Rossi could see it. 

“Please, for my sanity's sake?”

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, you found a pharmacy and picked up a box. 

“Can you wait outside the door for me?”

“Of course.”

And he did. 

Once you paid for the box, the cashier directed you to a bathroom in the back. Except, long after the two minutes were up, you still hadn’t come out. So, Rossi knocked on the door. 

You swung it open and he jumped back a little. 

“I can’t look at it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to at some point.”

“I’ve wiped it down and it’s got a cap but…can you look? I’m too scared.”

Rossi could see the fear in your eyes. Oh, how two little lines could instil so much fear into people who dealt with crime every day. 

Handing the package to Rossi, he turned it around and pulled it out of the packet. 

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

Turning it around so you could see, you took it back into your grasp as you pushed one hand through your hair. 

“Oh, my god.”

“I think you and Hotch need to have a conversation.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

Rossi smiled, holding your hand which he could feel shaking. “You have my word.”

Somehow, back in the precinct, you managed to keep your cool. You’d brought back coffee for the team and, despite the fact you caught Hotch watching you from his seat, noticing your shaking hand, you pulled it back and found a spare pen from JJ’s notepad and spun it over and over in your fingers. 

Thankfully, due to the “food poisoning”, you had been kept out of the field when it came to finding the unsub. However, this just gave you a very large sense of dread. You watched them all run out of the door, Rossi placing a hand on your arm talking directly to you. 

“I’ll look out for him.” He told you before the others could hear him. 

“Thank you.”

Possibly carrying Hotch’s child made watching him and the team run out of the door, without you, made that sense of dread practically triple. Especially considering no-one other than Rossi knew the truth, or at least a part of it, about yourself and Aaron. 

Thankfully, no-one got hurt and the unsub was apprehended in time before he could hurt anyone else. They all came back with looks of relief and tiredness when you saw them, but there was a barely visible look of confusion and perhaps, hopefulness, on Hotch’s face when your scowl at him didn’t seem so cold. 

On the plane ride back, you were quiet. Everyone was, but there was just an air about you that told those paying attention to you that you were in your own world. 

Of course, Rossi knew why. 

But it was tearing at Hotch why he didn’t. 

Pulling back into the office, Penelope greeted you all by the elevator, hugging you all. And handing you some dry crackers and a bottle of water. 

“Thanks, Garcia.”

As everyone said their goodnights, you watched as Hotch walked directly through the bullpen and towards his office. 

“I think there are a couple of things you and he need to talk about.”

You nodded, with a light smile. “You’re right.”

Rossi kissed you cheek before saying goodnight and saluting you before the elevator doors closed. You did a small one back before turning your gaze back to the dim lights coming from Hotch’s office. 

However, first, you ran to the bathroom. 

Sitting at his desk, Hotch was halfway finished with the last of his reports when a knock came to his door. 

Looking up from his desk, there was a slight look on his face that told you he wasn’t expecting you. And you couldn’t be surprised. You’d barely been able to look him in the eye for the last month and a half, and you’d been nothing but cold and if a little harsh with him for the last couple of weeks. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Can we talk?”

Hotch nodded. “Come on in.”

You nodded back, entering, but closing the door behind you. Which made Hotch stand. 

“Is everything-”

“I’m pregnant.”

A silence settled over the room that you were expecting, but still shocked you. And every possible emotion, some you couldn’t even name, passed over his face before he was forced to sit down. 

“Oh.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded, quickly signalling for you to do so. And so you did. 

“What did…How- When did you find out?”

“Sometime in the last twenty four hours.” You answered which confused Hotch, which you could understand. It was a vague explanation. “It’s all been kind of a blur.”

He nodded, understanding what you meant. 

“Does anyone…know?”

You nodded. “Rossi.”

“Dave knows?”

“He seemed to know before I did…kinda.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess I had a feeling when I got carsick, but denial carried me through.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No. Oh, and, um, I-I took another test to be sure. H-here.”

With a lot of nerves and a lot of awkward courage, you passed the second test across the desk to Hotch who took it in his hands and looked at it. 

Two bright pink lines. 

Positive test. 

“Just so I’m…clear. You are telling me because I’m…”

“The father?” you questioned. “Yes. There wasn’t anyone before or after you for it to be someone else.”

Hotch nodded. “Okay.”

You both sat in silence for a while, taking in what had just happened. 

“I, well, I haven’t been to see a doctor yet so I can’t know for certain but these tests are usually pretty accurate.”

Hotch could only nod. 

“You’re free to make any decision you wish,” Hotch assured you. “I’ll support you either way.”

You nodded in a small thank you. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. With our line of work, it gives you the handbook over why you shouldn’t have children. But, if I do decide to do this…I’m prepared to do this on my own. If I am going to do it, I’d prefer to have you in their life.” 

Your hand absentmindedly touched your stomach and you looked down to it for a moment. 

“But, I’m prepared to do it on my own.”

Hotch took in everything you said and nodded. “Like I said, I’ll support any decision you make but if you do decide to have our child…” 

Those two words settled over the both of you. 

Our Child. 

Our Child. 

Our Child.

“One thing you don’t have to worry about is doing it alone. I want to be a part of their life. And whatever support you need, I’ll try and help with.”

You nodded before looking back down to your stomach. 

Once again, a silence settled over the both of you and it was like he could hear your brain going into overload with information and feelings. But just as he was about to call your name, you looked up. 

Tears were being held tight behind your eyes, but a few words and they were ready to fall free. 

“I’m…I’m scared, Aaron.”

It didn’t take him a second thought before he stood up and met you where you were sitting. As he got around his desk, you stood and he embraced you tightly. 

He swallowed thickly, nodding and placing a quick kiss to your hair. “It’ll be okay.”

A week later, the team had taken notice of the change between yourself and Hotch. It was no longer cold, but it wasn’t what it was. It was something…uneasy. You had both clearly had a tough talk and were on rocky shores, but you were both finding a way to make it work. 

It was also a week later that you had made your decision. 

You were going to have a baby. 

A lot of different scenarios passed through your mind when you thought about what you were going to do. It would be hard, of course. It would be difficult to work the cases you do and not feel a little more emotionally involved. But you also couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a blessing in disguise. 

A part of you had wanted children for a long time, but the thought of actually having them was slipping further and further away the more you worked. 

And, despite you feeling selfish, you wanted a baby. You wanted to see a child, your child,  grow up and have a life of their own. You wanted to make the memories you had as a kid, but with them. 

You knew it would be difficult to do so when you joined the Academy, but part of you always wanted a home filled with the sound of laughter and joy. 

And maybe this was your only chance. 

And in all honesty, Aaron had similar feelings. 

It would be hard, sure. But he also wanted this in his life. He wanted a child. He wanted you in his life, however that would be. 

Of course, neither of you had seen this coming when you had run into each other at the Inn you had found. A halfway stop to your actual destination. Only, rather than continuing on your separate journeys for your week’s vacation time, you both found yourselves unable to leave the small town and the safe walls of the local Inn. 

It was that part of the story the team would forever speculate on once they found out you were pregnant and it was, in fact, Hotch’s baby. 

That was a piece of information they clued together themselves when Hotch called them in for an early meeting, but had confirmation on just a few moments later.

“So, what’s happening here?”

“Are you together?”

“We’re…still figuring that out.” Hotch answered, looking at you.

Neither of you had exactly had the conversation over what you were. Were you a couple? Were you friends? Were you co-workers? Were you just co-workers having a baby together?

HR weren’t exactly happy about the get-together but so long as the relationship wasn’t going to break any codes of conduct within the field, you were both still free to keep working. And more importantly, working together. 

However, over the next nine months, certain things seemed to blur. 

Aaron came with you to every doctor’s appointment, never missing one. When you had both first heard your baby’s heartbeat, you had clutched onto his hand and not let go. And when the sound got clearer, he pulled you a little closer, rubbing your arm and kissing your hand. 

It was a little odd, feeling the baby kick for the first time whilst being stood outside of a crime scene. 

Morgan had been with you at the time, quickly calling for Hotch when your posture and face changed from quizzical to concerned. Only, by the time Aaron had reached you both, you laughed and told them what was happening. 

Morgan then called JJ over as you guided Aaron’s hand to your stomach. And you both shared an intimate moment, just looking at one another, feeling your unborn baby kick at your stomach for the first time. 

JJ was able to confirm what was going on and both herself and Morgan congratulated you before you all remembered where you were and got back to work.

The cold glares you had given Hotch in the weeks leading up to you finding out had disappeared completely after the hug you shared in his office when you told him. And by the time you were entering your second trimester, they had turned into something similar to what they were before everything had changed. 

You had both become friends. 

He had also relaxed a little more around you, which allowed him space to take in what was actually happening. So, when your cravings started kicking in, he would hand you snacks throughout the days. You wouldn’t even know what you wanted at the time and he just…seemed to know. 

And at some point between him attending doctors appointments, helping you with your pregnancy cravings and reading to your belly, you had both begun to live together. 

It made sense, at least for the first couple of weeks after the birth and partly during the pregnancy. If you went into labour, it would be safer if someone was with you. And, it meant he was there when, in the middle of the night, you woke up with braxton hicks and panicked a little before getting checked out at the hospital, just in case. 

Also, small touches began. 

From you holding his hand against your stomach when your baby kicked, to his fingers tracing yours whilst they held that position. Then, in break rooms. They were quick, but light kisses would be pressed to your head or cheek whenever he handed you something. He was always close to you, barely leaving your side when in the field. His hand, always at the small of your back when leading you somewhere. And in the early hours of the morning, his arms would be across you as you both lay in bed, holding you close against his chest. 

Until, finally, one night whilst lay in bed, you asked a question. 

Both facing each other, despite your eyes being closed, Aaron traced repeated patterns from pushing your hair back to trailing his fingers down your arm to find your hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. 

Both of you should be fast asleep, yet you weren’t. 

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping.”

You laughed a little. “No we’re not.”

“I’m sleep talking.”

“Aaron, I’m being serious.”

With a small laugh, Aaron sighed. “Okay, what is it?”

He finally opened his eyes and so did you.

“What are we doing? About us, I mean. We’re having a baby together, but we’re not together together. We work together, but we also live together. What happens after the first couple of months? Do we…what do we do?”

“I suppose we just have to take each day as it comes and see what happens.”

“I can live with that.”

“Or…”

“Oh, no.” 

Aaron laughed a little and shook his head, bringing his hand back to your face and brushing the hair from it. 

“Or,” he repeated, “we treat this for what it really is.”

“I don’t…” you shook your head. 

“I know I don’t regret what happened that week away. Even more so now, but before…before we both found out. I still didn’t regret it. I don’t. We say we live together out of convenience, but I know, at least for me, it’s something more. Now, if for you it’s still out of convenience and bonding for our child, then we can have this conversation when the time comes. But, you should know my feelings for you run deeper than just you being my co-worker and the mother of our child. Do you…could you see yourself…feeling the same?”

The silence that came over both of you for a moment made Aaron worry. Maybe he had gotten it wrong in his head. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you were just caught up in the emotions of carrying his child and, since you were in it together, some form of feelings, similar to that of his, were getting blurry. 

But then you blinked. 

And a light smile graced across your face. 

“I do.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. But still, your words echoed louder and louder around his head. 

“You…you do?”

You nodded. “I do.”

Aaron took a moment, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was like your first, all over again. Except, this time, rather than a little fear being behind it, considering at the time you were both still co-workers just on vacation, there was nothing but…

Relief. 

More specifically, relief for love. 

For months you’d both been avoiding the biggest barrier between both of you. Too scared and too fearful that the answer to each question would be some variant of “No.” 

And now…

Finally the answer was yes. 

Yes to love. 

Together.

Yes to a life.

Together. 

Yes to a family. 

Together.

[pathologicalreid]

Could you write a platonic Spencer X reader? Like she’s the new, youngest member on the team, he remembers how it feels like and kinda takes you under his wing.

neophyte | S.R.

next

in which dr. reid gives advice to help you cope with the requirements of your new job

who? spencer reid x fem!platonic!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: details from 1x6 "L.D.S.K.", mentions of killing an unsub, guns and general cm related violence. post prison reid.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi!! thank you! i had such a great time writing this! i love a good platonic reader fic <3. (side note i am currently working on making my way through all of my requests :-))

Your brows were furrowed in the dark, abandoned office that you darted into at the very first opportunity. Try as you might, you couldn’t forget the way your last case ended.

Some agents wore their first takedown like a badge of honor, but you had no interest in looking at this like an accomplishment.

You rubbed at your eyes, he was a killer, he had a knife to a teenager's throat, and yet, you felt bad that you had killed him. Emily had assured you that it was a clean shoot and you were right to kill him, but you didn’t care that it was a clean shoot. You cared that someone was dead, and you were the one who pulled the trigger. Shouldn’t it matter to you that by taking one life, you likely saved several others in the process?

Glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone could see you, you turned sharply into the empty office. It had been left abandoned years ago by Agent Morgan, and now you were grateful for the empty space. If you were going to cry, at least you could do it in peace.

The events kept playing in your head, the UnSub held the knife to the kid’s throat, and you asked him to let the kid go, but he knew he was going to jail anyway. The temptation of another kill was too good for him to turn down. You saw the flex of his wrist as he prepared himself to kill, and you pulled the trigger.

You struck him right between his eyes. You promptly walked the teenager to reunite with his parents before you snuck around the side of the building and hurled before returning to the rest of the team like all was well and good.

“Y/N?” A voice whispered into the office, and you braced yourself for someone to tell you that you shouldn’t be in there, you looked up and saw Reid, he had his token leather satchel over his shoulder like he was ready to leave. “Are you alright?”

Haphazardly, you wiped at the tears on your face and smiled weakly, “Yeah, I’m good.” You lied through your teeth, “Just uh…” you desperately tried to find a reason for being in the empty office, “enjoying the scenery.” You cringed inwardly, a five-year-old wouldn’t believe you, let alone a seasoned profiler.

Like you had done earlier, Spencer looked behind him before entering the office, he set his bag on the floor and slid his back down the wall, so he was sitting next to you on the floor. “So, how are you enjoying the blank walls?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I am enjoying myself immensely, thank you very much.”

“So, what’s wrong?” He asked, nudging your arm gently.

Hesitantly, you turned to face Spencer. Kind, non-judgmental Spencer who had once lent you a book on the jet because you were bored. “I killed him,” you whispered. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

You watched as realization dawned on him, “Did Emily say it was a clean shoot?” He straightened his legs out in front of him.

Nodding, you went back to staring straight ahead. “Yeah, she said I gave him ample opportunity to cede and that I performed as necessary.” You took a deep breath and fiddled with the hem of your jacket, “but I didn’t… I’ve never…” How could you explain this to Spencer without sounding like a kid?

“You’ve never killed anyone before,” he finished for you. “Even though he was a serial killer and he would’ve killed that teenager, you still killed him.”

You sighed despondently, “Profilers.”

Reid leaned back against the wall. In your peripheral vision, you could see the light from the hallway as it fed into the office. “I had the same problem after I killed someone for the first time,” he admitted to you.

Your head snapped to face him. Quite frankly, you had a hard time believing him, Spencer was a BAU veteran at this point. “You did?” You whispered.

He nodded, “Philip Dowd,” he said, making a face like the name felt foreign to him now. “He would’ve killed me, our old unit chief, and an emergency room full of hostages had I not done it, but I still couldn’t convince myself it was justified.” He shrugged, “I didn’t sleep well for weeks afterward.”

Turning to face him, you tilted your head in curiosity, “How did you figure it out? How did you manage?”

“I had someone who could give me advice,” he told you pointedly. “I put pictures of his victims up in my room, so I had something to remind me why I’m doing this,” he answered. “I won’t lie to you, it’s never going to be something enjoyable about this job. Taking someone’s life is…. Brutal, but saving lives makes it tolerable.”

Silent tears streamed down your face, “I wish he had just put the knife down. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, “Sometimes it doesn’t, but that family that you reunited today? They’ll never forget you.” He reassured you, and you remembered the tears from that mother as she hugged you and thanked you for saving her son's life.

“For the good of the many, right?” You asked bitterly.

He hummed, “If that’s how you have to look at it, yeah, but if you don’t know how you have to look at it to feel normal yet, that’s okay too.” He swept a strand of hair from his face, “The point I’m trying to make is that I had someone to help me navigate all of this, and I think you could use that too.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Like a guru?” You asked, a light smile on your face.

“I was thinking more like a mentor, but sure. I could be your BAU guru,” he said, the grin plain in his voice.

Then the moment left as quickly as it came, you still couldn’t get the way the blood drained from his body out of your mind. You wiped a tear from under your eyes, “I can do this, Reid,” you assured him.

He reached over your head to a tissue box on top of a table, handing you the box, he answered, “I know you can. Emily wouldn’t have handpicked you from the academy if you didn’t have what it takes. You’re just what the BAU needs, and if you decide to stay, you’ll be perfect here.”

Unable to help it, you scoffed, “How do you just know that?”

“I’ve seen a lot of people come and go from the BAU, but no one who reminds me so much of myself. And I’ve been here for long enough that I hope you take those words for what they’re worth,” he answered you, not even bothered by your indignation. He stood first, reaching a hand out to help you to your feet, “You have my phone number, right?”

You furrowed your brows as you stood, “uh, yeah.” Garcia had programmed them herself on your very first day.

Spencer nodded, “Good. If you ever need help processing the job, or anything else, you can call. Or text. I’m usually better with calls. Any time, okay, Y/N?”

You cocked your head at him, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answered simply as if it was obvious.

And just like that, he grabbed his bag and turned around. Heading into the elevator, he waved as the doors shut and you watched, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

next

[cumulo-stratus]

request- hanging out with your two best buds spencer and penelope and watching lady and the tramp

or could be just with spencer

i just love seeing them together and need to hang out with both of them. and i know they are both fans of Disney movies like c’mon it just makes sense

BEST BUDS [S.R]

Penelope, spencer, and you share a nice night at penelope’s watching Disney classics with spaghetti

spencer reid x gn!reader ][ fluff drabble ][ 0.6k ][ masterlist!!

a/n- MAY ILYSM FOR THIS REQUEST!! its a drabble not a full fic but oh well lol

“Spencer pass the cheese!” Penelope's many bracelets jingling on her wrist could be heard as she reached out for Spencer to hand the cheese to her. 

When Spencer placed the bag in her hand she shook it onto her bowl of spaghetti. There was now a little pile of white parmesan cheese on top of her spaghetti. 

Penelope leaned against one end of the couch wearing her Mickey headband while you and Spencer cuddled up on the other end for best buds night as Penelope so lovingly called it. The name hadn’t changed even when you and Spencer got together a few months ago.

They usually happened whenever there was the time for one, which wasn’t often. This made them special. Special meant Penelope often got very excited at the prospect of a best buds night. 

Tonight she had decided to make spaghetti to go with their viewing of The Lady And The Tramp. Ever since you had discovered Spencer's secret love of old disney movies, both you and penelope insisted on watching his old favorites.

Penelope had heard about this from Spencer when she saw him blushing at texts, and being the guy who never normally even takes a second glance at his phone unless it's work related. Of course, Penelope being the lover of matchmaking insisted on knowing what Spencer was looking at.

Said previous events led to the three being cozied up on the couch with the light of the movie illuminating Penelope's otherwise dark apartment. The old style music and animations brought back memories from Spencer's childhood. 

“You know my mom used to play this for me a lot” Spencer spoke with a fond smile, and you could almost see the memories flickering like old film behind his eyes. You smiled up at your boyfriend from his shoulder. You placed a small kiss on his growing stubble. 

ever so often, either penelope, you, or Spencer would make a comment (though most of them were spencers). Spencer usually said something about how the animation was done, or a historical inaccuracy. “You know that architecture is quite unrealistic for supposedly the early 1900s- are you guys seeing this brickwork?” he would call out, only earning a giggle from the others. 

When Penelope made a comment it was usually along the lines of “ahhhh!!! look at these two cutie pies!!” and other phrases in the same vein. Her excitement was at its peak in the classic spaghetti sharing scene. there had been lots of penelope screams/yelps of joy. 

You preferred to stay quiet, leaving a sentence hanging in the air every once in a while. But you found more pleasure in listening to your two best friends.

The more the night wore on, the more the warm bowl of spaghetti in your stomach and the soft sound of Spencer's heartbeat lulled you into a drowsy state against his chest. His warmth radiated into your soul, allowing a blanket of peace to roll over you as the movie's credits started to play. ‘’

Spencer looked down to find you asleep on his chest, and his second thought after how adorable you were- was how was he going to bring himself to wake you up and go home for the night. 

Then again, Spencer noticed someone asleep. Penelope had her head rested against the couch and an empty bowl still in her hands. She also sported a small squishmallow of a unicorn at her side. with her eyes closed you could see the eyeshadow she hadn’t had the thought to take off yet.

And as spencer looked at his two best friends, and then back to the tv with the credits still rolling, he wondered how he got so lucky.

spare a reblog?

[blue-babygirl]

Energy Drink

Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader

Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)

Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.

Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.

You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.

Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.

But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.

Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.

“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.

You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.

“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.

But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.

He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.

“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”

Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.

“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.

“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.

“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”

You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.

“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.

“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.

“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”

You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.

Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.

“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.

“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.

Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.

After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.

“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.

You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.

The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”

[reveseke]

The box of skulls

CM — Hotch & son!reader...

No warnings, just origami and startled reader.

Reader is written to be interested in origami. :') also blurb based on/Inspired by the image below lol.

It had been a long week, R just got home from camp and the house was quiet for the most part. He'd been told that Jack had been sleeping over at a friend's house for the last few days and his dad was out of town for the moment. A nice peaceful moment, no distractions, no people — just silence that fell nicely over the house.

The window was cracked open a little, the light of the sun in the early morning streamed into his room with the birds singing, cars driving by, and the wind blowing. The sound of paper being folded over the table of the teen's room as he folded the origami paper, at this point going over the steps by memory and letting his hands just handle the paper with care. By the table was a small box, filled with small origami skulls that R had recently —not even recently, looking that he'd been doing this for quite a while— picked up on.

Learned to make even with all the mistakes he'd done, some faint scars over his hands from the paper cuts he'd managed to conjure up from his work.

What he hadn't counted on was to not hear his phone go off with the familiar message ping, an hour or so ago. Too focused on making the small origami that he was startled by the hand that came to land on his shoulder.

"holy shiiuhhm.." R nearly cursed out as he spun his head, eyes widening as he saw his father standing over him. Swallowing the curse as he flashed an awkward smile and let the unfinished skull hit the table, "Hi, dad! When'd ya get home?"

Aaron looked a little amused as he curiously looked at the paper scraps and what his teenaged son was doing, "Just now. Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"nope!" R said as he lowered his hands on the table, letting his fingers thrum a few times against the surface, "No I didn't, sorry."

"What are you doing?" Aaron asked as he leaned back a little, now looking at his son as he picked up the unfinished origami and slowly cast his gaze upon the small box of skulls, "You've been .. certainly busy, no?"

"oh, that's just my box of skulls..." R smiled a little as he took the box of multicolor skulls and picked one of them up, "yeah, I learned to make them like a month ago."

"that's nice, why skulls though?"

"Uhh, no real reason just thought they looked cool and a little challenging, wanted to try it out."

[beelmons]

BAU men salsa dancing headcanons

Rossi is surprisingly good at it, although his movements are more on the stiff side. He does mostly the basic steps, like an uncle dancing at a wedding. He will spin you once or twice and even pull one of those leaning endings just as a show off.

Hotch is stiff, like, spaghetti before boiling stiff. The first time he dances, it's an awkward mess, although he grasped the steps pretty quickly. The second time, he is just as stiff but with more technique, he probably took a salsa class on the side. Basic steps only, playfully spins you off beat just so he can hug you, has a blast because he sees you have a blast.

Morgan is good, mad good. He will know how to spin you, cha cha cha, drop it and reverse it. He was probably forced to learn when Garcia was too shy to go to a class by herself, and surprise, surprise, he was excellent at it. If you are not careful, he might be even better than you. Can take it slow and simple if that's the mood, he is just happy to shake his but a bit.

Spencer knows the origins, raise, and fall of salsa dancing. He knows the names of all the steps by heart, and even the speed at which his body should move. Little problem? It just doesn't. He stumbles and steps on feet time and again, he won't look up from looking at his feet as he recites what the movements are supposed to look like. When he finally relaxes, he can sort of do it well, it's awkward and very basic, it's more you taking the lead, spinning him, and moving his arms, but it's nonetheless fun. He also has a last although he ended up breathless.

Luke is effortless, my man is latino, so you know he was peer pressured into learning growing up. He sings while he dances and will always take the lead. He prefers the simple, more casual steps, though if he gets lost in the music, he will begin to show off. He definitely smiles the entire time like a good performer, and will even do the 'two at a time' steps if any of the girls join you om the dance floor.

Matt is similar to Rossi, he got some of the steps down, but won't go as far as doing over complicated spins. He is elegant and less stiff, since he is tall, like, very tall, it looks a bit clumsy, but he always enjoys himself when he is dancing. He will, however, get tired pretty quickly, even when he is used to all types of cardio, the dancing just takes too much brain effort.

[the-guilty-writer]

Aaron x daughter!reader where she is struggling with her mental health and has a crying breakdown in the middle of the night and he gets up from bed to comfort her?

My controversial opinion is that Hotch would be the best BAU parent for mental health struggles ❤

(Note that this is probably medically inaccurate, but I was too lazy to look it up)

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

It wasn't unusual for teenagers to struggle with mental health - this was a fact that Aaron Hotchner knew simply from studying behavior for so many years. The stages of brain development and the hormones impacted the mental state of many adolescents. The phase of life led to a more stereotypical phase of emotional ups and downs. He hoped that you'd be one of the many kids that grew out of such intense struggles as you got older.

Many parents would see that as an excuse not to validate the experiences, but he knew better. The idea that one might grow out of struggles was no reason to neglect them in the present.

It's why he didn't hesitate to get out of bed in the middle of the night when he heard you sobbing in your bedroom. He stroked your hair and hugged you tight, not caring that it would leave tear stains on his shirt.

The words he spoke were calm, validating, soothing. He kept his demeanor soft and steady, anchoring you to earth with his presence. Some nights you simply needed a good cry - a way to release all the energy that had built up inside - and he was always there to comfort you however you needed.

When your body grew tired and the tears stopped flowing, he stayed with you. He tucked you into bed, just as he had when you were a little girl, making sure the blankets kept you warm and safe for the night ahead.

In the case you got cold or felt unsafe, he made sure you knew he was only a call away.

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

*Y/N on speakerphone with Frank and Matt*

Matt: Thanks, Y/N

Y/N: You, my fine, furry friends, are welcome

Y/N: *hangs up*

Frank: Remind me to have her drug tested later

[m1lfsh4ke]

I need to know which girl Paget slept with in the 90’s was that bad in bed that Brewster doesn’t identify as queer but posts like this on the daily 😭

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hi! I hope your okay! I was just wondering if I could get an angst with happy ending m!readerxhotch. No worries if not! Thank you!!

Hiya, it's not romantic or anything, more of a familial bond between the two but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: homophobic parents, getting kicked out because of homophobic parents

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping your eyes quickly before looking up. “I, er, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Hotch immediately frowns, seeing his intern at his door, soaking wet, eyes rimmed red. He wordlessly moves out of the way, ushering the younger man in. He had about a million questions to ask. ‘A time and a place,’ He reminded himself gently. 

“How about you set your bag down, take your shoes off, and try and warm up in the shower?” He says, giving you a small smile. “I’ll find you some clothes to change into and I’ll put what you’re wearing in the wash.”

You looked at him before giving a small nod. “Y-yeah, thank you.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to thank me,” Hotch gave a small smile. “When you’ve done that, we’ll talk, alright?” You nod. That seemed like a good plan. 

You take your shoes off, placing your bag on top - not wanting to get your boss’ floor too wet - and followed him upstairs. 

“Jack’s asleep right now, but he sleeps like a log,” Hotch’s lips curl upwards slightly, “Fresh towels are in the cupboard, help yourself. Use whatever you need to.” 

And with that, you gave an awkward nod and Hotch made his way to the guest bedroom. 

You showered quickly, using the first shampoo and conditioner (separate bottles, not 2in1) as well as the first bar of soap you saw. 

A quiet knock on the door drew you out of your thoughts, “(Y/N)? Can I come in? I’ve got some clothes,”

“Oh, er, yeah,” You answer. The door opens quietly, there’s a gentle sound.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs, okay? I’ll put the kettle on.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

Thanking the heavens to feel warm with your skin no longer sticky, you stepped out, wrapping a towel around your waist. There was nothing worse than rain making your skin itch. You looked at the clothes Hotch had piled up for you, they were probably going to be a little big, but the pants had drawstrings, so it wasn’t exactly the end of the world. 

You made your way downstairs once dressed, feet padding softly against the carpet. When you enter, Hotch turns to you, two cups of tea in hand. “Perfect timing.” He places, the cups on the table. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He sits first, you follow suite.

“I’m sorry,” You say. “I, er, I didn’t know what else to do. Sorry for bothering you at home, in practically the middle of the night-“

“(Y/N), you’re absolutely fine,” Hotch gives a smile. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to be able to reach out… But, I do have a question, if that’s alright?”

Nodding, you quickly answer, “Yeah, I, er,  I thought you might have a question or two.”

“Okay, and obviously you don’t have to answer them, not if you don’t want to.” He pauses for a moment, “What happened?”

You take a moment, watching the light dance off the tea. “I… I’m not really all that sure.” You swallow. “My parents and I got into an argument.”

Hotch nods slowly. He knew you were still at college, living with your parents in order to save up money. “Okay…”

“I, er, sort of… might have been kicked out.” You say, cupping the hot beverage in your hands. “It’s sort of a bit hazy. I just know that they yelled, I yelled, and I think they told me to, and I quote: ‘get the fuck out and stay out’,”

Hotch frowns, eyes darting over your face as he took the information in. “If you don’t mind my asking, what brought this on?”

“I told them- well, I didn’t tell them, they found out – but that part’s not all that important right now. I’m rambling a little, sorry.” You pause, taking a small breath. “They found out I was gay.”

You watch as Hotch’s frown deepens. “I’m sorry that’s how they reacted. That’s not fair on you.” He pauses. “How are you feeling about it all?”

“Um, well, I was flustered, I guess?” You said.

“And now?”

“Done.” You gave a shrug, “I don’t think I can be bothered to care. It’s probably the sleep deprivation, lack of coffee, or even adrenaline, but I can’t- I can’t seem to get myself to care right now.”

You pause to scratch the back of your head, risking a sip of your tea and burning your tongue in the process, but you carry on. “Like, I know I should care. I really should. Because if they’re serious about it, then right now, I’m technically homeless.” You look back at Hotch. “But all I can think about is the report you wanted me to finish… It’s not finished, by the way.”

“(Y/N), right now, I don’t care about the report, okay? Don’t worry about the report. But here’s what we’re going to do, tomorrow morning, I’m going to drop Jack off at Jessica’s, and I’m going to drive you home.” Hotch says, “I’ll go in with you and we’ll pack up some things, okay? Essentials for a few days or things you don’t feel like you can live without.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to drive me-”

“(Y/N), don’t even bother trying to argue it.” You snap your jaw shut and give another nod. “Good. But, for now, try to relax, drink your tea, alright? The guest bedroom’s all made up for you.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,”

“No, Hotch. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

[everythingcriminalminds]

Imagine a relationship with Spencer Reid. Not necessarily a romantic one, but a deep friendship.

One where you sit together and just eat a snack, have a coffee and info dump without being worried that the other is uninterested or isn't sure how to tell you to be quiet.

One where you share everything with each other. More than what you share with most people.

One where you have late night/early morning phone calls about nothing and everything.

One where you act as Spencer's wingman because you know he's the sweetest man alive and he can get nervous sometimes.

One where you are comfortable teasing each other sometimes and knowing to do it in-person not over the phone so he can hear your tone when delivered so he isn't worried you are being serious.

One where Spencer doesn't mind physical contact every once in a while.

One where you two both learn more about expressing emotion in a place where you feel safe.

One where Spencer asks Penelope to do background checks on anyone he may think is a threat to you. Anyone from your neighbor, to that person who tried flirting with you. Of course he doesn't tell you; he knows you'd be mad at him.

One where you just look at each other and think, I will never find anyone else like you in this lifetime.