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#aaron hotchner x teen!reader
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Chocolate & Movies
Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader
Imagine: having period cramps is one of the worst things, but luckily you have a dad who knows what will help, or in other words Aaron Hotchner is the best father you could ask for
Warnings: period, period cramps, pain, you know normal period things (me writing this as a woman knowing full well most men don’t know what I actually mean), hotch being the best dad ever, hotch cuddles, hotch hugs, idk what more
A/N Me 🤝 writing fics for my own comfort
This is my first Criminal Minds fic so I hope I did ok, and if you have a request for Criminal Minds pls send them in
So I’m mainly writing this because my period cramps are worse than normal, and I can take a lot of pain before it gets too much, and my period cramps are usually bad, so thought why not write some comfort fic about it and here we are, this is for anyone who have period cramps so enjoy I guess, sorry that it’s short
Side note: I wanted to ad that this is what usually helps me I’m not saying it helps everyone
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You knew you should’ve been up by now, but there was no energy in your body to do so. All your energy went to not cry out in loud sobs of pain. It felt like someone was stabbing knives into your stomach and twisting them around. Any position you tried made the excruciating pain worse. Even the thought of walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water to take with the medication caused the pain to spike up. Your nauseous state didn’t help nor the fact that it felt like you were going to faint as soon as you lifted your head up.
Jack had already left for school and you were supposed to be in your father’s car in ten minutes so that he could drive you to school. However if you had a say in the matter that would not be the case, if you got your will through you’d be at home the whole day wallowing in the pain you got once a month as you (in your dramatic words) bled out.
You were about to take your phone (not wanting to yell) to ask your father if you could stay home when you heard his voice yell out to you. “Y/N, we’re leaving in ten, you ready?” seconds later when he hadn’t gotten a response, your door swung open and the bright light from outside shined inside your once dark room. Your dad saw you laying on the bed and even if he wasn’t a profiler he would still have been able to see the pain that you were trying to hide from showing on your face.
Aaron’s face softened as concern washed over his expression the more he looked at you. He went over to your bed and crouched down, his hand going out in concern towards your forehead thinking you might have a fever and a headache at first, but you felt completely fine against his hand. “What’s wrong honey” he heard you take a deep breath before letting out some few mumbled words “period cramps, hurt a lot”
“You wanna stay home” Aaron noticed how you sighed in relief at his question, and was glad that he had understood the situation right. He got a nod from you and went out of your room to tell the school you weren’t coming in today. Not long after he was back to crouching beside your bed, this time caressing your arm softly.
“I have to go to work, but we won’t have a case for a while so you can come with me if you want, we can stop at the store on the way and get-“ he was cut of by a groan coming from you as you tried to once more not give in to the pain.
“Yeah I’d like to come with you if it means I get to cuddle with you, otherwise I’ll stay here”
“Go get ready, I’ll get you a glass of water for the meds, okay?” Hotch got another nod from you and he went out to leave you to get dressed, well as dressed as pajamapants and one of your fathers oversized hoodie was. You took the painkillers, your phone, charger, headphones and grabbed the coziest blanket you could find and went out to the car.
Not soon after you’d been to the store, bought a ton of chocolate and were now in your fathers office. Aaron had changed from working by the desk to sitting on the couch writing reports as you cuddled into him. Headphones on (as to not disturb your father from his work) as your comfort show was playing on your phone. A bunch of chocolate wrappers were spread around on the floor and desk.
And even later that day when you got home, Aaron cuddled with you as you watched movies and ate chocolate. A heat pad (is that what they are called, I literally have no clue, says the person who always uses them) laid across your stomach, which together with the warmth from your father relieved some of the pain. That along with the fact that Aaron’s hugs could always bring some of the pain away. Maybe it was a dad thing, you didn’t know but you were happy that your father was a great hugger, and that his hugs always made you feel okay.
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wildflowerluver · 1 year
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sweet pea
aaron hotchner x teen!reader, bau team x teen!reader
5 times the team hears about you and the 1 time they actually meet you
cw: fem reader, set over the span of three years, case mentions, broken family unit, hotchner trio, hotch is a swiftie, also refers to his daughter as ‘sweet pea’, team is nosy, eating/food, forehead kisses run the hotchner home
wc: 3.4k
༺♡༻
1. inception
child cases are always rough.
they’re not only extremely sensitive, but they hit emotionally for everyone involved. 
it’s a small town and yet no strong leads. there’s no reason for the case to be as difficult as it is, but every case the team looks into is different.
local p.d. bring in a woman named chancy solace. she was the last one to see the missing boy alive and no one wants to wait around for another death to happen to look for evidence.
hotch was set to do the interview.
he asked basic questions about the missing boy, keeping his voice calm as she recounted her day through tears. they all knew she was innocent, no doubts about it. he was set to finish up after a few moments. it was clear she didn’t know much.
as he went to stand, however, solace had stopped him.
“do you have children, agent hotchner?” her voice was broken.
hotch nods. “i do.”
“how old?”
“my son is 3 and my daughter is 13.”
the air outside the room went stale. everyone on the team knew jack. some had even met him within his first few weeks of life. he was three, that was a fact - but a daughter? not once had hotch mentioned one, let alone one with such a large age gap. jack never rattled about a big sister either.
solace frowned, more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “then you must understand the guilt i’m feeling right now. can you imagine if you were the last one to see your daughter before she disappeared? how can i possibly have it in me to be a part of this?”
hotch doesn’t want to think about the question she posed, not at all.
“we’re going to find him. it’s going to be alright,” it was a promise, one hotch intended not to break.
he left the room after that. their only known witness wasn’t much help for the case and there was no point in wasting time.
rossi stops hotch before he can walk away.
“why’d you lie?”
there’s no question on what rossi is asking about. it’s profiling 101 that lying to a suspect, no matter innocent or not, could be dangerous.
hotch glanced at his team.
“i didn’t.”
2. first encounter
you’ve had a really, really, really bad day.
from the second you woke up, everything seemed to go wrong. school wasn’t any better and by the end of the day, the only thing you wanted to do was see your dad. he’s your favorite person and a hug from him always reassures you that things will be okay.
you text him before your last class of the day to ask when he’ll be home. if it’s even possible, a deeper frown appears on his face when he tells you no later than six. 
part of you wants to be happy from that response. no later than six means there’s no cases and he’s on top of his files. but after the day you had, you just need someone and waiting nearly four hours for him to get home is less than ideal. 
can i come to the bau?
your text is a shot in the dark. your dad keeps you out of his profession and you’ve never stepped foot in quantico. you just hope he gets some sort of semblance for what's going on if you're asking to come see him.
he responds back seconds later. ‘i’ll send an agent.’
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to get there on your own, there’s even a direct line from the train station closest to your school, but you're still young, only 14, and you know he would feel more comfortable having an agent pick you up.
the next time you check your phone, your dad has sent a message with the name of the agent and instructions on how to prove that it’s him. it’s not him being overprotective, it’s him wanting you to be safe. 
agent anderson is easy enough to spot. you run through the procedures your dad wanted and once you know it’s the right person, you get in the car.
he doesn’t say anything when you shove your earbuds in your ears and shuffle your playlist and you’re thankful for that. you’re especially grateful that he doesn’t ask questions when you bite your lip and swipe away stray tears that have fallen down your face.
music is an outlet for you, an escape, and right now that’s all you wanted to do. 
earbuds remain in your ears as you step into the bau building. anderson leads you through security and gets you a visitors badge. you very faintly hear any of his verbal instructions.
he leaves you once you reach the right floor, pointing through the glass doors to show you where to go. with a smile, he’s gone.
you weigh your options for a moment before walking in. you told your dad you're here but you don’t know where his office is. and right now, you really do not want to deal with anyone else. but with a deep breath, you decide to take your chances and head in.
a child walking into the bau is an automatic red flag, let alone one with puffy eyes and red cheeks, a clear sign of crying.
morgan and j.j. are the first two to stand up, wasting no time in circling their desks to walk to where you stand at the bullpen entrance; j.j.’s mouth already open with an “are you alright?” on the tip of her tongue.
but before they reach you, and before j.j. can speak, hotch is out of his office and moving down the stairs.
he steps in front of them when he faces you, thus shielding you from the prying eyes of the team. you look up at your dad, eyes full of a new wave of tears.
hotch doesn’t hug you then, though he desperately wants to, nor does he explain who you are to the team. instead, he places a strong hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly before guiding you up to his office. the door is shut and the blinds are closed. the two of you are cut off from the others and all of them know not to intrude.
“who was that?” rossi questioned after stepping onto the catwalk. the commotion was noticeable.
“i think we just met y/n.”
3. phone call 
on flights home from cases, what the team does onboard genuinely varies with what time of day it is.
during early morning and late night flights, you can find most of the team asleep, trying to make up for the rest lost in the past few days. anything between that is typically a more active time.
hotch is dealt into a game of poker with the entire team. rossi acts as the dealer claiming he’s “not in the mood to get outsmarted at his favorite game.”
the entire group is laughing and chatting among themselves as they play. there’s no reason not to, it was a successful case - worth the positive mood on the jet.
hotch’s phone ringing cuts through emily’s turn.
he holds his hands up in defense and mumbles a quiet apology.
“hi sweet pea,” hotch barely has time to greet you before he gets cut off with your frantic “did you listen?”
his laugh causes the others to bring their heads up from their cards. a hotch laugh is uncommon, rare.
“i did. we finished up here last night so i listened before i went to bed and finished when i woke up,” he answers your question. 
he waits for your response, already knowing that you want to know his thoughts on the album.
“well,” hotch pauses. “if i’m being honest, i liked it more than fearless.”
j.j. and emily are the only two who have any idea what he’s talking about. a record could be set for how fast their eyes snap to each other once it clicks.
hotch is quiet for a few moments. though no one can make out exactly what you’re saying on the other end, they can hear your muffled rambling.
“yeah yeah, i liked that one too,” hotch agrees. “i think my top two are dear john and haunted, though. her songwriting is incredible in those.”
whatever he means clearly pleases you judging by the content look on his face.
“alright i have to get going,” he starts. “but i have the vinyl reserved at the record store. we can go when i get back? should be home by two.”
you agree without hesitation, several “thank you’s” being repeated. hotch won’t admit it ever to anyone besides you, but he’s excited to hear it on vinyl too. it’s kinda your shared thing.
“i’ll see you when i get home, okay? i love you.”
he hangs up after goodbyes, placing his phone back onto the table before picking up his cards. the silence lingers in the air even after he makes the motion that he’s ready to continue. “what?”
“you listen to taylor swift?”
hotch smiles, a genuine one. “my daughter loves her. have to keep up somehow.”
4. vacation 
when hotch doesn’t show up to work for a week, it takes only the first day for the team to panic. it had been a little over a year and a half since foyet had stabbed hotch and hotch had gone missing. no one was going to take chances when their boss, who typically had perfect attendance, showed up without notice.
rossi and morgan went to strauss at the end of the day. 
their interrogation on hotch’s whereabouts is in good faith, but it doesn’t take a profiler to notice strauss’ sigh at their concerns.
“agent hotchner is on vacation,” she starts. “he should be back next week. until then, i am under orders to not assign a new case unless necessary.”
the agents turn to each other in confusion as they leave. “a vacation? come on rossi, when in all the years of knowing him has hotch ever willingly gone on vacation.”
the older man shrugs. “i don’t know. maybe this’ll be good for him.”
there’s no arguing with that.
when hotch returns the following monday, no one hesitates to notice the change in his physical appearance.
his skin is tanned and he has a slight tinge of sunburn on his nose and cheekbones; a clear sign he went somewhere warm.
“hotch!” emily catches him before he can retreat to his office.
all eyes are on him and he knows it. 
“where were you?” she inquired. 
hotch sighs. “greece.” 
this catches the attention of the other team members in the bullpen. rossi seems to have found an empty chair at j.j.’s desk. even garcia had chosen this exact moment to get a new cup of coffee.
“greece?” emily stutters. “like the european country?”
hotch nods. “that’s the one.” 
morgan whistles. vacations in the bau are fairly uncommon. the looming threat of being called back for a case stops most from planning. even if the timing does work out, no one goes far; let alone out of the country. 
“and you just decided to go there for a casual vacation,” j.j.’s tone isn’t condescending, but rather showing genuine curiosity.
“it’s y/n’s birthday in a few months and she’s always wanted to go,” hotch explains like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “jack’s still a little too young so he stayed with jessica.”
he doesn’t mingle around after that, choosing to head up to his office to get set up after his week away.
“huh,” garcia murmurs. “didn’t take him for a greek island guy.”
“guess that shows just how much he’s wrapped around y/n’s finger.”
5. baked goods
you don’t have school today.
despite that, you still get up early to have breakfast with your brother and dad. once jack is picked up by the bus for school, your dad gets ready for work.
you stay in the kitchen, however, moving the cookies you made last night from one container to the other.
when your dad reappears, you wait for his hands to be empty before posing your question.
“is there any way you can give these to agent rossi?” you practically shove the container into your dad’s hand.
aaron raises an eyebrow. “rossi?”
“you mentioned he was italian,” you wait for a nod of confirmation. “these are canestrelli, they’re an italian cookie. i wanted to know if you could give these to him for a taste test.”
he smiles. “trying to expand your baking horizons?”
you match his expression. “exactly.”
with a kiss to your forehead, your dad is out the door and off to work.
“delivery,” hotch’s tone is steady as he knocks on rossi’s office door.
“from who?”
“y/n,” hotch answers as he sets the container down. “she tried to make canestrelli and wanted your opinion. i’m just the messenger.”
rossi takes the container from hotch. he opens it up before plucking a cookie out and examining it. “looks authentic.” 
if he’s being honest, even if the cookie isn’t good, he’ll still love it.
but it isn’t.
of course it isn’t.
rossi takes one bite and his eyes widen.
“i haven’t had canestrelli this good since the last time i went to italy. tell her she should be very proud and i will be happy to pay for more.”
hotch can’t hide his proud expression. “i will.”
+1 first meeting
you always wait for your dad to get home from work. it’s routine.
plus, you made a promise to jack when you put him to bed that you would send your dad upstairs when he got home.
you bake in the meantime. it’s something to pass the time and you figure having something fresh to eat would be a nice surprise for your dad.
music plays from the record you have spinning. you keep it quiet as to not wake jack up upstairs. he’s not a light sleeper, but you don’t want to disturb his rest.
the side door opens as you're mixing the flour to the batter. tonight’s bake is gingerbread. easy enough to make. 
it surprises you when your dad doesn’t call out a hello. he’s come home this late before when you’re still up and he always makes it a point to greet you. plus, you have music playing. there’s no doubt he can’t hear that.
“dad?” your voice is quiet.
you peer around the corner, stepping out a bit further when you see him, though you freeze when you notice the other people following him. 
“hi sweet pea,” his voice is tired, you can tell. you close your eyes when he hugs you and kisses your forehead. if his team is here you know it’s not good.
“what’s going on?”
he turns to you. “i can explain in a few minutes. are you okay for introductions?” his voice lowers for the last part, not wanting the team to hear if you say no.
you nod, though anxiety bubbles at the pit of your stomach at the deflection of the question.
“everyone, this is y/n, my daughter,” your dad starts. unsure what to do, you wave slightly. “y/n, this is my team, that’s dave, derek, emily, spencer, j.j., and penelope.” he points to each of the people as he rattles his name off.
while your dad kept you out of his work, you did faintly know each member of the team. he talked about them in passing and jack rambled often about something “uncle dave” or “uncle derek” did.
“why are they here?” you hope your question doesn’t come off as rude.
your dad squeezes your arm. “can you go back in the kitchen for a few? i’m going to get these guys set up and then i can explain. is jack asleep?”
you nod. “i put him to bed a few hours ago. he was asking for you.”
“thank you,” he starts. “i’ll go see him in a bit.”
the conversation is over. you feel awkward standing in the foyer where you’re clearly the center of attention. you turn and walk into the kitchen. finishing your baking seems like a good idea.
aaron enters the kitchen as you’re pouring the batter into the pans. the music is off by now, though the record stays on the turntable. he waits for you to put the pan in the oven and face him before explaining.
“there’s a mole in the bau. we’re trying to figure it out but we obviously can’t work there. i volunteered our house. we would’ve gone to dave’s but he’s having work done.” you know he’s giving you the most minimal answer possible.
“oh,” you’re honestly not quite sure what else to say.
he continues. “we’re hoping to have it cleared up soon but we don’t have a lot of our normal equipment. i wasn’t expecting you to be up for all this. couldn’t sleep?”
“was waiting for you to get home,” you shrugged. “you know i always do.” 
“yeah i know. i should’ve called.”
you turn to him. “It’s alright. i’m just going to clean up while i wait for the gingerbread to be done and then i’ll go to bed.” 
your dad nods. “let me know when you do.” he disappears out of the kitchen after that.
cleaning up doesn’t take long and you’re still elbows deep in soapy water when the oven beeps. you take it out of the pan and set it on a cooling rack before gathering your stuff. you’re honestly exhausted.
going into the living room takes a moment of mental courage. you know everyone is in there and you don’t want to interrupt them. but, you’ve missed your dad and you want him to say goodnight.
“um, i’m going to head up to bed,” your voice echoes through the room. it was fairly quiet before and you feel embarrassed for interrupting that. the first part is directed at your dad. you turn to the rest of the team. “i made fresh gingerbread if anyone wants any. it’s on the counter, help yourself. i also put on a fresh pot of coffee and that should be ready soon.”
aaron’s heart is so full that he almost forgets the case at hand.
“i’ll be up in a minute,” aaron voices.
you hum, nodding to the team as a non-verbal goodnight.
he dishes out individual assignments within the team. they’ll work as a group to start before taking shifts so others can rest.
jack’s room is his first stop. he doesn’t wake the boy, choosing to instead kiss his forehead before picking up his stuffed dinosaur, a gift, and placing it back on the bed.
you’re just getting under the covers when your dad knocks.
“come in!”
your dad steps inside, shutting the door slightly.
“hi,” you smile.
“hi,” he echoes. “good day?”
you shrug. “yeah, i guess so. i got jack from school and we spent the afternoon together. missed you though.”
aaron frowns. “i’m sorry sweet pea. didn’t think this was going to happen. none of us did.”
“i know you didn’t. i’m not mad.”
you want to continue your statement and wash away any guilt you know he’s feeling. but, your body betrays you and a yawn cuts you off.
“alright, time for bed,” his words make you feel like a child but you know he’s right.
he tucks you in and like with jack, he kisses your forehead.
“goodnight dad, i love you.”
“i love you too.”
his demeanor changes when he goes downstairs and sits with the team. he’s serious, ready to work. right now this case is his priority. he, like others, wants to wrap it up quickly and efficiently. 
emily nudges him when he sits down beside her. spencer and derek’s banter about the case is long drowned out.
“she’s a good kid.”
hotch beams. 
“i know.”
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WIP Excerpt - Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader
I thought I would share just a little snippet of a project I'm working on. It's a series about Aaron meeting a teenager on a case who ends up being involved, and there's just something so familiar about her...
Reader does use she/her pronouns.
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Everyone had that one touchy subject that seemed to bring back memories of events and cases past. Everyone knew that J.J. was the one who was affected by cases involving children. 
But this time it was Hotch who felt his chest restrict with each new fact presented. With every body found the pressure of solving this case felt ten times heavier on his shoulders.
On his nightstand, the alarm clock’s neon blue numbers read 3:22 A.M. He was pacing around the hotel room, mind racing a mile a minute. The facts and theories of the case were incredibly confusing. Everytime the team got close, something drastic changed and they were at square one.
Four young, innocent girls were dead, and a fifth was going to be soon if they didn’t shape up.
Hotch glanced out the window of the third story room to see a small diner in the plaza across the street. On its left there was a tobacco store with big yellow block lettering covering the window pains with advertisements promoting vapes and discounted cartons of Mavericks. To its right there was a laundromat, with a few letters of the sign tilted from rusted out nails crumbling away instead of holding it fast. The glowing blue and pink sign on the diner read “open 24 hours”, though it flickered out every few seconds. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he sighed.
Nothing was getting done in this small room, and the diner would have coffee. He had heard before the coffee from 24 hour diners was always better. He doubted that to be true, but at least it would be caffeinated. 
He grabbed the coat off of the chair in the corner of the room, and quietly left, locking the door behind him.
It was a short walk across the street. He pushed open the door, and a bell jingled.
Soft sounds of 70’s music filled his ears. His eyes found a pastel yellow and mint green jukebox in the corner. It was your typical retro themed diner. Checkerboard flooring, blue and pink booths and tables, milkshake decals on the wall, and a long bar that a waitress was cleaning with a rag. With the typical 50’s decorations and colors, but 70’s music playing and newspapers from the 80’s on the wall, the establishment seemed to lack a general knowledge on what decade it was supposed to be emulating. Nonetheless, there was a pot of coffee sitting behind the counter, and it wasn’t like this was the strangest 3 A.m. experience he had ever had. 
Hotch looked away and sat at the counter, waiting patiently for the waitress to meander her way over to him. She finished wiping down the section of counter she had been working on and dropped the rag in a basket beneath the counter. Finally, she looked over at him.
20-24 year old girl, medium build, round face, brown eyes, umber skin, and dark black waves of hair. She shouldn’t be working alone at night, he thought. Not with a killer on the loose.
“What can I get for you?” She asked, all but rolling her eyes. Her name tag said “Marisa”. 
“Just a coffee please.” He said quietly.
“Black?”
He nodded.
As she went across the room to fill up a mug, he took a moment to revel in the peace he rarely got to feel while on a case.
The soft lighting and low music was almost comforting, in an odd way. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
Marisa set the mug of steaming coffee in front of him. “Just brewed a new pot, so you’re lucky.”
“Thanks-”
The jingling of the door interrupted him. 
“Marisa, darling!” A feminine voice cooed. 
The waitress had a look of annoyance flash across her face before she quickly covered and plastered on a smile.
“Julie, welcome in. Go ahead and take your usual booth. I’ll get you a coffee and… I’m so sorry sweetheart, what’s your name again?”
“Y/N. I’ll have orange juice, please.” 
At the mention of her name Hotch looked over his shoulder. Y/N was dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. Her shoulders were hunched and as she sat down in the both, she immediately curled into the corner, like it was supporting her. Dark circles hung under her eyes and as he watched, she put a hand up to her mouth to hide a yawn.
It was early Thursday morning. And unless there was something going on that he didn’t know about, she had school in four hours. What was she doing up?
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pendragon-writes · 1 year
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𝒮𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐹𝓊𝓃
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Dad!Hotch with Teen!Son!Reader
Requested: Yes
With the prompt: Sledding down the biggest hill in town.
"Hey slow down! I can't keep up with you if you keep running!" Aaron panted out, holding Jack in his arms who was giggling at his dad and older brother. Today Aaron didn't have any work to do and since it began snowing as of late you both agreed to go out and go sledding, plus with everything that happened and with Jack you could all agree that this was a well-needed break.
The chilly air made your breath visible and your gloved hands could feel the traces of coldness around you. Jack and Aaron's faces already had tints of red from the cold but it wasn't enough to be concerning. You slowed down your pace just enough for Aaron to catch up and opened your arms for Jack. "Here let me hold him, knowing you and your age you might break something." You tease, taking a hold of Jack and giving him a piggyback ride. "For your information (Y/n) I am in very good condition but nonetheless you can carry Jack."
°。°。°。°。°。°。
Once you finally made it to the hill you spotted the free sleds that they always kept around for people to use. After gently placing Jack you pointed to the sleds and asked if he wanted to go with you or dad. Jack pointed to you resulting in you sticking your tongue out to your dad. You sat Jack in front of you as you both got on the sled, waiting for him to get on his respective one.
"You ready?" You challenged, Aaron gave a look of determination as Jack giggled. You started the countdown and before you knew it you and Jack were sliding down the hill with no problem, Aaron not too far behind. The land seemed to blur at how fast you two were going, Jack laughing in joy the whole way down. After a few minutes you made it to the bottom of the hill, both you and Jack reigning the winners. "How about we go another round, we'll give you a head start." You said with a smirk. "Oh, you're on."
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the-guilty-writer · 1 year
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Work The Case
Request from @doctorsteeb: This may be too sensitive a topic but just an idea— Hotch!daughter taking out a school shooter?
Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader
Summary: A normal Tuesday takes a turn when you come face to face with your father's work.
A/N: Not going to lie I wasn't going to write this because I felt like the idea was too sensitive but then I remembered that I'm the queen of writing too sensitive things in real life so I may as well do that here too (within limits of course. I still have ethics). So here it is!
CW: school shooting, fatal gun shot, talks of foyet, talks of dead mothers, talks of car crashes, talks of drunk driving, talks of divorce, Jackson Pollok slander
---
The morning started out like any other Tuesday: you got up and ready for the day before having breakfast with your dad and brother- oatmeal and orange juice- then your dad drove you and Jack to school. Jack always got dropped off first at the elementary school, and you at the high school. The ride between the two was short, but it was always long enough for a small, private conversation between you and your father.
“You okay?” he asked you. 
Ugh. Profilers.
“I’m…” You thought about saying ‘fine,’ but you knew he wouldn’t take that as an answer. You sighed. “The teacher let the class vote on what chapter we would cover in class next, so we started on abnormal criminal psychology yesterday.”
“Oh.” You’d never heard your dad sound so uncertain.
“It’s an extra chapter. Since it’s not listed in the curriculum we aren’t being tested on the material. The teacher told me I could spend that period in the library if it was… too much,” you finished.
You dad pulled in front of the school, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead goodbye. “Whatever you need, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you told him. 
“Try to have a good day,” he said before you shut the car door.
You nodded. “I’ll try.”
---
You took your teacher’s offer and went to the library instead of their classroom. The space was large, but mostly empty of people- there was just the librarian behind her desk and a few students scattered amongst the tables. You took a seat and pulled out your homework, trying not to think about what they were learning back in the classroom. You’d honestly overheard enough phone calls that whatever they were learning about you already knew. There was a buzz in your pocket, which automatically made you freeze. You kept your phone on do not disturb through the school day. The only reason your phone would buzz would be if your dad was texting you… and if your dad was texting you it was an emergency.
You pulled your phone out and you were right- it was a text from your dad. Three words: Work the case.
Shit. That was code for you and Jack to hide- to hide somewhere that you wouldn’t be found unless you wanted to be. You looked around the library, but the area was like an open plain. You shoved your work in your backpack and hurried towards the doors-
BOOM!
A gunshot.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
People began to scream. Through the glass windows of the library you could see students running, but it wasn’t because they were late to class. The lockdown alarm sounded and you scrambled under one of the tables, hoping it would be enough cover.
There was a stillness and a silence for a minute and you hoped that it was over, but gunshots rang out again- this time they were louder than they had been before. Someone was getting closer.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, making it feel as though your entire body was thumping to its too-fast rhythm. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t shed any tears. You wondered if this was what it had been like for Jack when Foyet had killed your mother and then tried to kill your father. As part of WISTEC, you had been sent away to a private boarding school with an alias while Jack and your mom were sent elsewhere. In the end, sending you away had saved your life, but now you were wondering if you were going to die soon anyway.
That was, until the library doors burst open. From your view under the table you could only see old shoes and baggy jeans but you heard the shots that were fired into the air.
“Get up! All of you!” It was a male voice.
You, along with the six other students in the library that had all dropped to the floor, looked around at one another- who would make the decision to stand up or stay down? Who would make that call?
More shots were fired. “I said get up!”
You thought about your dad- what would he do? And so you were the one to make the call, the first student to crawl out slowly from under the table and rise, your hands held up to show that you were no threat. The rest of the students followed your lead. This was your team now- if one of them died, it was on you.
You looked at the shooter and you knew who he was- Timmy Rogers. He’d been in some of your classes in middle school and high school. He had always been quiet- the kind of kid who did well in class but never answered any questions. The person who put their share into a group project and didn’t complain about having to pick up the slack if someone else bailed. He was nice enough of a person that you wouldn’t have expected him to be holding a firearm in the middle of your school, but then again most unsubs could keep themselves hidden for years- that much you knew.
“Line up against the wall. Now!” he shouted.
You walked calmly to the wall while some of the other students scampered. One girl was crying. Another boy’s fists were twisted with fear. The librarian was on her knees, pleading with Timmy. “You’re a good boy. You always have been. Your mother-”
“Don’t talk about my mother! Don’t talk about me! You don’t know me!”
“Yes I do,” the librarian was crying. “I do know you and your mom wouldn’t have wanted-”
Timmy pulled the trigger and she was gone. He marched over and grabbed the girl who was crying, dragging her out in front for the rest of you to see. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” She fell to her knees. “Please, I’m sorry-”
You thought quickly about everything you knew about Timmy. He wasn’t an athlete by any means but he joined the wrestling team anyway, he liked art and his project last year was based on his parent’s divorce, his father was a marine, and his mom…
Oh. His mom had died in a car crash last week. She was hit by a drunk driver.
“You never cared about me!” he yelled. “Nobody cares about me. Nobody cared about her-”
“I did.” You didn’t know where the words came from- they were solid and bold and half a lie, but they made Timmy let go of the girl.
“And who are you?” He pointed the gun in your direction. You wanted to scream, but you didn’t.
“I’m (Y/N) Hotchner. W-we had art class together last year.” You hoped your stumble wasn’t too obvious.
“Yeah, and why does that matter? Why should I let you live? Why should I let any of you live?” He waved the gun around in the air, making some of the students shriek, but somehow you stayed calm even though you wanted to explode. 
“Y-your mom died in a car crash last week. But it wasn’t her fault. It was the other person who was driving drunk and it wasn’t fair that they got to live and she had to die,” you said.
“Why do you care?” He spat.
You reached deep down… really deep. “My mom died too. She was murdered by a serial killer. She deserved so much better, just like your mom did.”
Timmy paused, the gun in his hand was shaking but still pointed at you. From your view, you could see that through the glass there were officers moving into the school. No. Not just officers- they were wearing FBI vests. Help was almost there, you just had to stall.
“My parents got divorced too,” you said. “Your final project last year really spoke to me- your dad was away all the time and your mom got tired of it, even though they still loved each other.” That was a total lie- the guy was about as talented as Pollok, but you had to find something. “My parents were the same way.”
Now Timmy was crying. You could see behind him that agents were moving towards the library, but you were too focused on stalling Timmy that you weren’t focused on their faces.
“And I was at a boarding school when she died so I was alone- all alone, just like you, Timmy. My mom died and nobody was there to comfort me. My dad wasn’t with me, just like your dad isn’t here right now.”
He was so distracted by your words that he didn’t even notice that the library doors had opened behind him allowing Agent Morgan, Dr. Reid, and your dad to come in unnoticed.
“He- he didn’t even come for her funeral-” Timmy’s hand was getting weaker. He was crying harder. “I-I can’t reach him-”
“I know. I couldn’t reach my dad either since I was still in WISTEC. They couldn’t tell me anything about him until I got home. It’s not fair. I know it’s not fair. I care that it’s not fair.”
Timmy dropped the gun, crumbling to the ground in a fit of tears. Agent Morgan tackled him, pulling his hands behind his back while Dr. Reid disabled the firearm. Your dad ran straight to you, gripping you in a bone crushing hug and you sobbed into his chest.
He pulled you in tighter, stroking a hand down your hair. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. It’s over.”
“I worked the case, dad,” you managed to get out between your sobs. “I worked the case.”
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Hi! could I request a fic where theres a killer that goes after 13-16 year old girls with brown hair and thats Hotchners daughters age and description. She somehow gets taken and when they find her she is like tied to a chair or somthing and Hotch thinks she got SA but she does not! But he goes all dad mode and morgan scoops her up in a blanket lots of comfort!!!
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Aaron Hotchner X Daughter Reader
Request: Hi! could I request a fic where theres a killer that goes after 13-16 year old girls with brown hair and thats Hotchners daughters age and description. She somehow gets taken and when they find her she is like tied to a chair or somthing and Hotch thinks she got SA but she does not! But he goes all dad mode and morgan scoops her up in a blanket lots of comfort!!!
Third person pov...
It happened so fast that even Y/N had trouble remembering what happened. She rememberd she had jsut said good bye to her Dad and was on her way to school.
Her dad had been worried, There was a killer on the loose, targeting young girls between the ages of thirteen to sixteen with brown hair. The victims were always found tied to a chair, brutally beaten and traumatized.
Aaron was a part of the team assigned to the case and it hit too close to home. His own daughter fit the description of the victims, making him even more desperate to catch the killer.
The man had been weary about letting his daughter out, but realised he could keep her under lock and key, she had her life to live and had to go to school.
The 14 year old was casually walking to school, her bag on her back and happy walking in the sun, she passed by a suspicious car.
The instant she did she felt the persons eyes on her, it heightened her anxiety but she kept on walking to school. Slowly she got out her phone from her pocket and began tapping on it.
A man then got out of said car, he was tall, kept his head down, he began to follow the teen. Y/N looked behind her every few seconds while tapping on her phone.
She was planning to text her dad and began walking quicker, she heard the man walk faster to catch up with her.
The brown haired girl taps her Dads contact and begins typing, they had a code word for incidents like this she had to be quick.
DADDIO
Y/N
Ech
"Hey there" comes voice from behind the girl scaring her. She turns quickly and hides her phone, the teen looks up it was the guy following her.
She stared at the man, not saying a word. This made the man angry, Y/N saw grit his teeth slightly, she then inches away slightly from him.
The guy keeps a friendly smile on his face as he looks at the young girl. "Sorry for scaring ya. Just wanted to ask if you could tell me where the library is?" He asks the girl, Y/N relaxes slightly, her legs tense she was ready to run if the guy posed as a threat.
She looks at the time on her phone her message to her dad still open. Once seeing the time she looks back up. "Sorry can't help you I'm running late for school" she says to the man soundly apologetic.
She turns to run but her wrist is grabbed, the mans grip was hard and it was painful. Y/N tried to wretch her arm away but it only made the grip on her wrist tighten, he was twisting her wrist a way it shouldn't go.
Tears at the corner of her eyes she tried to yell for help but one look from the guy said 'you scream and I break it' so she kept her mouth shut, with her hand gone she uses her other to try and text behind her back.
She taps on her phone suddenly it falls from her grip. Looking at the ground I  horror her phones screen was horribly cracked, she jsut hoped she was able to send the message.
The man then begins dragging her to his car, unlucky for her know one was around to see her being dragged off. Suddenly everything went black.
With Hotch...
Aaron Hotchner had just arrived at the office after seeing his children off to school, he sighs as he walks into the Bullpen.
The others had already arrived and were standing around Reids desk. Hearing his phone go off he gets it out, upon lookomg at the screen his face goes pale.
Gideon who was walking towards the man noticed the man face instantly and was worried. "Hotch? What's wrong?" He asks the man, drawing the attention off the team.
Soon they all surrounded their unit chief. The man had an iron grip on his phone, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Hotch, man tell us has something happened?" Asks Derek he taps the man's shoudler.
This seemed to jolt the man out of his frozen state. "Y/Ns in trouble" the team act, everyone gathering in the round table room.
Echo was there codeword for danger and Y/N and Jack knew they should knly use if for emergencies, Hotch knows Y/N would never abuse that rule.
Hotch pacing in the corner, Derek and Elle going over the evidence they have, Reid trying to form a geo plan of the unsubs comfort zone, JJ was on call with crime lab, Gideon ws thinking the evidence over while still calming down Hotch the man was wearing a hole into the floor.
"Hotch, you have to stay calm, we need you at your best to find Y/N" reasoned Gideon, the man managed to get the worried man to claim down slightly, he stopped pacing but tapped his finger against his leg instead
"Anything yet?" He asks impatiently. The team all shakes their heads, the man impatience grows as they work. Suddenly JJ gets a call. "Yes hello this is Agent Jareau, you have something" her voice gains the attention of the others.
"They found where Y/N had been taken" she explains to them Hotch visibly relaxes. Then JJs face goes worried. "What's wrong JJ?" Questions the man his anxiety on edge.
JJ thanks the person and ends the call. "Im sorry Hotch, all they could find was her phone. The screen had been smashed" she tells the worried Dad.
Hotch freezes. "What" he whispers as the team watch him.
With Y/N...
The 13 year old was in a dark room, stripped off her skirt and shirt, only in her shorts (she wears under skirts) and her tank top on. Shivers rack her naked body.
Either fear or the cold she didn't know, shivering she slowly looked around her head in pain from the punch she got from the man, she tried to move only her legs and wrist where tied to the cold uncomfortable chair she was on.
"Someone help me,please" she whispers to herself, she wants her dad, she wants to be home and in her dad's arms. "Daddy" she sobs to herself, suddenly a door is opened.
A bright light comes from a staircase she just realised, tears running down her face she sees the man from before walking down and coming towards her.
Shaking again she tries to move the chair away from the freak, she aches to be able to kick the man in the goods. " No go away leave me alone" she shouts to him, the man had a frightening look on his face.
As he got closer Y/N saw something shimmer in the light, it was a knife. E/C eyes widened in terror, her wiggling increased. "No no get away! Daddy daddy!" To her luck footsteps are heard upstairs.
She screams louder hoping to draw their attention to the basement. "Daddy daddy down here hurry" the man gabbed her face harshly to stop her from screaming.
The damage was done "let the girl go you son of a bitch!" Yells a very familiar voice, it was Derek Morgan one of Y/Ns uncle. E/C eyes once again fill with tears at the sight of her Dads team.
She sees the horrified looks on Elle, Gideon and Derek faces as the creep puts the knife against her throat, his face still covering her mouth.
Behind them she sees her Dad his face is angry, he wasn't happy. Taking a chance she bites the man hard, with a cry he let's her go but shoves the girl away making her fall back hitting her head on the wall.
Vision swimming she hears a gunshot, the creeps body falls next to her, muffled shouts are heard, before long she was being untied, then picked up by someone, recognising the scent she realises it was Derek.
She wraps her aching arms around his neck tightly as he wraps her in many blankets, sobbing loudly he tries to comfort her.
Derek rubs the girls back as Hotch gets a few punches in on the Unsub, he hated how long it to them to find him and save Y/N.
The traumatized girl continues to cry as Derek comforts her, once Gideon finally pulled Hotch off the Unsub the man remembers his daughter and goes to her.
Feeling guilty about not comforting her first, Derek puts the girl in his arms and walks away, Hotch shushes and bounces Y/N in his arms.
"Your safe now baby, its Daddy" he comforts, her Y/N continues to cry happy she was saved. "Dad your here your here" she cries Hotch just hugs her tightly not letting her go. "I'm here baby" he whispers.
The end!
Long one for this request.
Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait of updating, I've been busy with classes. As usual sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Request are open!
Word count: 1610
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pepsicolapussy333 · 3 months
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Me when I come up with the most elaborate, detailed, erotic, emotional, life changing plot for a fanfic and realize I have to write it to read it
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cas-kingdom · 8 months
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I’m in love with your criminal minds Drabbles!! If possible I’d love to see some bonding between hotch and Reid’s sister <333
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You sleeping in arbitrary places wasn't exactly a rarity around the BAU. Not quite yet an official member of the team—though somehow Hotch had enrolled you in some sort of experience programme you were pretty sure he'd made up for your benefit—you had to make do with stiff seats and tucked away corners on the daily as you waited for Spencer to finish his work. Surprisingly, the long days and even longer nights hadn't seemed to sway your wish to join the team just yet, though no one had placed any bets that it would.
Even so, said arbitrary places weren't exactly made use of at nearing midnight on a Friday. Having returned from Gideon's case just that evening, Hotch had sent everyone home with their promises of sleep before hiding himself away in his office to complete some work before the weekend. By the time he'd finished, the bureau had settled into the usual ambience consisting of the few late night workers and janitors.
He headed into the break room with the intention of grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and heading straight home, but the sudden sight of you and yet another of your arbitrary sleeping spots told him that might not be achievable just yet.
You were curled up on the break room couch, a stack of pillows under your head and what looked to be your brother's tweed jacket doing its best to act as a blanket. Hotch stared for a moment, concern slowly pushing away his brief amusement at the situation, and rose a brow when one of your eyes opened to stare at him.
"Hotch," you greeted, not at all groggily, which told him you probably hadn't slept.
Hotch put his bag down and seated himself on the end of the couch. "Y/N, what’re you still doing here?" he asked gently. He put a comforting hand on your ankle under the jacket and you sat up, tucking your frizzy hair behind your ears.
You yawned and shrugged. "Sleeping. Or, lying down, rather."
“I mean in the building." He smiled at your belated look of realisation. "Is Spencer still here?"
The expression on your face grew from tired to exhausted at the mere mention of your brother. Hotch sat back and crossed his arms, an instinctive movement when he figured some profiling may have to come into play. Those lines settled against his brow as he waited for your response.
You picked at a loose thread in the couch. “Playing chess," you said, then looked knowingly up at him. "I know what you’re gonna say, Hotch, but it’s easier to just leave him and let him do his thing. Gideon’s death hit him hard.”
Hotch nodded slowly. “I know. But what about you?”
“I don’t remember Gideon much.”
A corner of his lips curved upwards. Trust you to worry the least about yourself.
"I don’t mean that," he said gently, wondering how his next words would be taken. "Spencer has a tendency to forget about the people around him when he gets himself into one of these states. Now—" He pointed a finger at you before you could rise to your brother's defense "—that's not his fault, and he'll come out of it soon enough. But in the meantime, I don’t want you sleeping here until morning, Y/N." His fatherly instincts long having kicked in, his eyebrows rose in solemnity. "You need some proper rest in your own bed. The couch isn't going to cut it.”
You breathed a dubious laugh, still pulling at the thread. “Spencer has no plans on coming home tonight. Rossi’s already tried.”
“Then let me drive you home?" Your fingers paused and your mouth twisted in thought. Your face was hidden by a curtain of hair, but Hotch dipped his head enough to see your expression. He smiled knowingly. You didn't want to be alone. "Or…I can set up the spare room at mine?”
You peered up at him and for the first time he noted your level of exhaustion. Not only had you been kept physically awake by Spencer's turmoil, but your anxiety about the situation had mentally drained you, too. With your mother states away in a facility and your father completely written out of the picture, Spencer was your person and had been since he'd taken custody of you at four years old. When he wasn't himself, neither were you, and Hotch had always known it.
You took a second to respond, looking past him and out the open door for a moment before returning your gaze to his. "You don't mind?"
Hotch smiled and squeezed your shoulder in reassurance. The end of your storm was near, he was sure.
"Of course not," he said. "You get yourself ready and I'll tell Spencer."
Criminal Minds Masterpost
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reveseke · 4 months
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Jack & bro!Reader finding a stray cat in mild condition and bringing it home to nurse back to health and feed it. Later on when they let it out again because Hotch did not in fact want a cat, only to himself walk to the apartment building and see the same cat with her kittens. :D
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spnjediavenger · 3 months
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It Won't Last Forever (Chapter 1)
Title: It Won’t Last Forever (Chapter 1)
Type: multi-chapter; father!Hotch x teen!daughter!reader, some bau x teen!reader (platonic!)
Warnings: canon-typical Criminal Minds sadness and/or violence, blood, light injury description
POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: panic attack description, flashbacks, alludes to PTSD, family death
Spoilers: S5 SPOILERS
Notes: I changed the end of the episode a bit. Sorrynotsorry.
The panic attack and PTSD description is a mix of my own experience and some I read online - this is not how ALL panic attacks and PTSD are experienced.
Y/n/n is a general nickname, N/n is going to be a nickname only Spencer uses for Y/n
Information creds at the end; I took some info verbatim to use in some of Spencer’s info dumps
As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!
Word count: 3,169
“Sometimes the loudest cries for help are silent.” Harlan Coben
The scene the team walked into wasn’t quite what they expected it would be. Hell, it wasn't what Hotch expected it would be. Not in the end anyway. He expected the blood on the floor. Even on the walls. But he thought he would walk in and find Foyet and be part of the final fight. What he didn’t expect was to find his daughter slightly beaten standing in the bedroom with a gun in her hands and Foyet dead on the floor - a bullet hole dead center in his forehead. 
Hotch quickly went to check that Jack was ok and send him out of the house with JJ before coming back to see his daughter. 
Y//n heard his movement and spun on her heel, gun pointed at him, eyes wild and body shaking.
“Y/n, honey, it’s me. It’s dad,” he said, holding his hands up in a calming manner. 
“Daddy?” she whispered shakily, body still trembling. 
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now. I need you to drop the gun, honey.” Hotch had tears running down his face from grief and he couldn’t hide that right now. But he also needed to talk Y/n down, who was clearly in shock. 
The girl’s eyes flicked down to the weapon in her hands and she began to shake more. She looked back up at her dad. “I worked the case, too. I… I had to… I couldn’t let him hurt Jack too…” she trailed off as she turned her head to the ground and saw her mother’s lifeless body laying there. 
“I know, honey. It’s ok. But I need you to drop the gun now, ok? It’s all over.”
She looked down at the gun again, to Foyet’s body, then her dad and finally dropped the gun. Hotch was quick to kick it away and pull his daughter into his arms, glad she was safe. Her arms stayed at her sides and she stared straight ahead into the hallway. Hotch pulled back and tried to look into her eyes but they were devoid of anything. He called Morgan back into the room and asked him to take Y/n outside to have her looked at and informed him that she was in shock. Hotch walked over to Haley’s body and Morgan put an arm around Y/n’s shoulders to lead her to the ambulance outside. 
Each member of the team watched her, ready to offer comfort and condolences but Y/n just stared empty ahead. They looked at each other, concerned, but chalked it up to her being in shock. Some might think this day would be the eye of the storm. But the storm was just getting started. 
Hotch did his best to be there for his kids through losing Haley while not neglecting his own feelings and need to cope. Jack was so young that he didn’t fully understand what was going on; Y/n, though, should have been showing signs of coping. Or even just feeling. But she didn’t. For a teenager who just lost her mother, she was surprisingly calm. Hotch hadn’t seen her cry once since her death. And frankly, he was concerned. He tried approaching her and getting her to talk but she just kept telling him she was fine. She put on a happier façade around Jack but Hotch could see right through it. The rest of his team, when they would visit, noticed too. They were all worried. 
One Saturday, Hotch had to go into work. Jack was over at a friend’s house and would be sleeping over so that would leave Y/n by herself. 
He stopped by her room and tapped his knuckles on her door. A very quiet ‘come in’ sounded and he opened the door to find the girl sitting in the window seat staring outside, arms hugging her knees to her chest. 
“Hey, sweetheart. The team and I have to go into work. Do you want to come with me? Say hi to everyone? They all miss you. Might be a good idea to get out of the house for a bit with Jack at his friend’s,” he suggested.
Y/n let out a sigh through her nose and reluctantly nodded. She grabbed a hoodie and her mini backpack. Hotch held an arm out and she let him wrap it around her shoulders and lead her to the car. 
The ride to the BAU was quiet and uncomfortable. Well, it was uncomfortable for Hotch anyway. He spared glances at Y/n as she stared blankly out the window as they drove, no emotion to her features. 
As they entered the bullpen, all eyes looked up and smiles appeared on everyone’s faces. 
“Heeey! What’s happening Y/n/n?” Morgan said, getting up and opening his arms for a hug. Y/n returned the hug to a bare minimum and remained quiet. 
“Hey, how’s it going Y/n?” Emily was next, rocking her a bit as they hugged. The girl shrugged and let Spencer hug her next. 
“I think I found the perfect book for you to read next,” he said. Y/n forced a half smile and nodded. 
JJ came up next but decided against saying anything, noticing her reactions, or rather, lack thereof. 
“Oh my goodness gracious did I hear that baby Hotchner is here?!” Penelope’s voice rang through the room. She ran over and practically crushed Y/n in her arms. “Why did no one tell me our favorite Hotchner was coming?! Oh uh, no offense, sir,” she added, looking at her boss. 
He gave a small, humored smile. “Non taken.”
Penelope looked back to Y/n and frowned. “Oh my sweetness. What’s going on? Talk to Auntie Penny.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, then turned to her dad. “I’m gonna go to your office.”
“Alright, sweetheart.”
The team watched as she ascended the stairs, accepting a hug from Rossi as he came out of his own office, and shut herself in her dad’s. 
Morgan looked over to Hotch as Rossi came down. “She still isn’t saying anything?”
Hotch shook his head. 
“Have you tried taking her to therapy?” Rossi asked.
“She won’t even talk to me, Dave. Why would she talk to a stranger?”
“Because it’s not you. You should know that sometimes it’s hardest to open up to those you’re closest to.”
Hotch sighed. “I don’t think she’d take to the idea. She won’t even admit to anything being wrong.”
“Could she still be in shock?” Morgan offered.
“This far away from the trauma? It’s been a couple weeks - is that common?” JJ asked. 
“Typically, emotional shock lasts for minutes to days, but can last for weeks to months depending on the severity of the trauma. And considering there are multiple sources of trauma for Y/n that her mind is pulling from it’s actually not surprising that she’s still experiencing symptoms,” Reid came in with an info dump. 
“As much as I’m worried about Y/n, I’d like to get this case out of the way,” Hotch said, trying to change the subject. The others nodded slightly solemnly and got to work. 
A few hours into the visit, Y/n left her dad’s office to grab a snack. She passed the round table room and heard snippets of the team talking. 
“He may have the same mask but this man is nothing like Foyet.”
Y/n froze and almost tripped over her feet. Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head to try and clear it. 
The movement caught Morgan’s attention and he tapped Hotch to stop his mention of Foyet. 
“You ok, kid?” Morgan called out to her. 
Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n nodded. “Yeah, fine,” she said, and continued walking. The team shared looks but continued their work. 
Y/n bounced down the steps to the break room. She grabbed a glass from the counter and filled it with water and went to get a snack from one of the cabinets but the door was stuck. She groaned and gave a harder tug. With a bit too much momentum, the door flew open and the corner caught her under her eye. She gasped and dropped the glass, causing it to shatter on the ground. This caught the team’s attention from upstairs. 
The sting under her eye sent her back two weeks and suddenly Foyet was in front of her. 
“You weren’t the one I was figuring on fighting. But I’ll take it,” he smirked, punching her again. She fell to the ground, hands getting cut on the glass under her. But she didn’t notice. 
She kicked his knee, sending him to the ground with her. He grabbed his leg and she had the chance to get up. 
“Y/n.” That wasn’t Foyet’s voice. 
She grabbed the gun that had fallen out of her hands and pointed it at Foyet. He grabbed her legs and pulled them from under her. She gasped as her head hit the ground. 
Hotch tried grabbing Y/n’s flailing limbs to keep her from injuring herself further. He was trying to get through to her and get her to open her eyes but it was like she didn’t hear him. 
Y/n kicked her legs at him and landed one in the face. She took the moment to stand once more and shoot him square in the forehead. 
“Y/n!”
Y/n sucked in a deep breath as her eyes opened and she saw her father in front of her, his familiar grip on her wrists. 
“Daddy?” she whispered. Her body was shaking. 
Hotch swallowed the sob his body wanted to release at the familiarity of these events. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s ok now.”
Y/n glanced around the room to remind herself where she was and saw blood on the ground. 
Haley’s body lay on the floor, blood seeping through her clothes from multiple gunshot wounds. She let out a broken gasp and moved away.
She jerked and tried to back away but Hotch kept his grip on her. She began hyperventilating. 
“Y/n, honey, everything is fine. That’s your blood, you cut your hands. You’re at the BAU.” He tried to keep his tone light but he was desperate to help his little girl. He didn’t know what to do.
“Hotch, maybe let me try?” Spencer spoke up. 
“She’s my daughter,” he defended. 
“Aaron, she needs someone who’s level-headed right now,” Rossi said. “Let the kid help.”
Hotch gave Spencer an apologetic look and nodded. Spencer hobbled over and carefully knelt down to Y/n’s level. 
“N/n, it’s Spencer,” he said gently. “I need you to look at me; can you do that, sweetheart?”
Y/n’s ears picked up on ‘N/n.’ Only one person ever called her that. Her wild eyes looked around until they landed on the youngest member of the BAU team. 
“Spencer,” she gasped, still hyperventilating. 
He smiled a bit. “That’s it. I need you to try and breathe for me ok? You’re having a panic attack. Can I help you move away from the glass?”
The girl nodded and Spencer guided her away and into a chair that Rossi had pulled out for her.
“Good job. Now, follow my breathing ok? Breath in for four, hold for four, let out for four.”
The girl nodded but as soon as she tried to take a deep breath, a sob came out making her practically choke on it. Hotch held a hand over his mouth and turned away, unable to stand seeing his daughter like this. 
Spencer rubbed Y/n’s back soothingly as she coughed. 
“Alright, that’s ok. Put your head between your knees instead. Putting your head below your heart will increase blood circulation to your brain and keep you from getting dizzy or passing-“
“Reid,” Morgan interrupted him, afraid his info dump would make things worse. 
“No,” Y/n whimpered. “Keep talking.” Listening to Reid talk was actually helping and giving her something else to focus on.
The boy nodded and kept guiding her actions as he continued talking, keeping a gentle tone instead of the usual teacher-like one his info dumps typically sported. “Morgan, grab some ice,” he said over his shoulder then turned back to Y/n. “Panic attacks are common for a number of psychological illnesses and can be connected to trauma. There are different types of attacks and I’m assuming this is situational-induced attack; these occur as a response to something specific and expected. They can happen in anticipation of a trigger or immediately after exposure to it. Triggers from traumatic events are quite common. Thanks, Morgan. Here, hold this. One way to stop panic attacks, especially when steadying your breathing is difficult, is to stimulate the senses. This works to interrupt the automatic reactions to the panic attack to snap the body out of the symptoms. Smelling something strong or holding ice are common methods and usually the most helpful. And one of the most important things to remember,” he added as he saw she finally began to relax, “is that while panic attacks may feel like they are never-ending, but they usually peak within 10 minutes. It won’t last forever.”
“It won’t last forever,” she whispered after him. 
Spencer nodded and pushed some hair out of her face when she looked up. “It won’t last forever. You did great, N/n.”
The girl gave a small smile. It was the first real one Hotch had seen since before Haley died. He let out a relieved sigh and Rossi squeezed his shoulder. 
Spencer glanced at Hotch and looked back at Y/n. “Can you let your dad clean your hands and eye up, Y/n? Those need to be taken care of.”
The girl nodded and Spencer smiled and kissed her head as he stood to walk away. Hotch put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. A silent ‘thank you.’ Spencer patted Hotch’s shoulder and left the room. 
Y/n’s eyes drooped a bit as tiredness overtook her. The panic attack had drained a lot of her energy. Hotch let her sit in silence as he tended to her wounds, not missing the flinch when he first touched her eye. But he wouldn’t bring it up now. He now knew he couldn’t wait for her to be comfortable talking but he would at least wait until she had more energy.
After wrapping her hands and cleaning her eye, Hotch took Y/n home. The team was just about done for the day anyway and the others told him that Y/n was his main priority right now. He thanked them and left.
It was around dinner time when they arrived home so Hotch suggested Y/n get changed into some comfy clothes and take a nap while he ordered takeout. She wordlessly nodded and went to her room. Hotch sighed and grabbed his phone to get working on dinner.
When the food came, Hotch and Y/n ate in silence save for the TV in the background. Y/n seemed to be a little less tired but Hotch could tell she had a lot of things running through her mind. 
Once they finished eating and the dishes were taken care of, Hotch approached Y/n before she could retreat to her room.
“Honey? Can we talk please?”
Y/n looked at her father and saw hope in his eyes. But almost in a pleading way. She weighed her options in her head but soon gave a resigned sigh and nodded. She took her dad’s outstretched hand and let him lead her to the couch. Y/n hugged her legs to her chest and Hotch brought a leg up so he could face her.
“Y/n…you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to…I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But sweetheart, you have to let something out. Anything. I was going to let things go until you weren’t in shock but after today I don’t feel comfortable considering that luxury anymore. We’ve all been through a lot and you’re no exception. Keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy. As much as I hate to see you upset, it’s worried me that you haven’t cried once. Please just tell me something, honey. No one can help you if you don’t let us in.”
As Hotch talked, Y/n could feel the slightest sting begin behind her eyes. In all honesty - she was worried about her lack of emotion too. But she didn’t have it in her to say anything about it. It took too much energy.
She let out another sigh and looked down at her hands. “I haven’t said anything the past two weeks because I haven’t felt anything the past two weeks,” she said quietly. “It’s like my mind was a void. I put on a happy face for Jack because I know he needs me. But the rest of the time I just couldn’t be bothered. But today…”
Hotch watched her as her voice drifted off. “What happened today?” he asked gently.
Y/n took a shaky breath. “I heard someone say his name and I froze. I don’t know why. But I couldn’t move for a second. Then in the break room the stupid cabinet was stuck then it hit my eye when I tried jerking it open and all of a sudden I was back there. He was in front of me. It was like I was living it all over again.” At this point, her voice started shaking and tears were glossing over her eyes. “He had punched me when I threatened him and that’s what I think brought it on. It was in the same place the door hit. I could hear you calling my name sometimes but it sounded far away. But I saw everything again and I…I felt. I think it happened too fast the first time and my brain couldn’t catch up, b-but this time…this time it could.” She turned her red eyes up to her father’s, which were also beginning to redden. “I-I shot him, dad. I killed someone. And mom-” a cry escaped her lips and Hotch wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.
Ugly sobs forced their way out of Y/n’s lips as she clung to her father for dear life. Her fingers dug into his shoulders but right now he couldn’t care less.
“I couldn’t save her, daddy! I tried!”
Hotch started crying harder at seeing Y/n breaking down. “I know- I know you did, sweetheart. It’s ok. It wasn’t your job to. It’s not your fault.”
Y/n buried her face into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears and snot. They both wrapped their arms around each other tighter and cried. Hotch held her head with one hand while the other remained on her back, rubbing up and down. 
Nothing else was said. Right now, nothing else needed to be said. The Hotchner family had each other’s backs. They had a long road ahead of them, but they would get through it. Together.
Misty Copeland once said: “Be strong, be fearless, be beautiful. And believe that anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you.”
(Chapter 2) ->
Creds: how-to-stop-a-panic-attack-5202930
anxiety-101-how-stop-panic-attacks-their-tracks
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writerswritewriting · 10 months
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Another random thought, but I was watching a Hivemind video (Shirts That Go Hard Tier List) and was introduced to this beauty;
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and can't stop thinking about bau!reader who's working late at the office with the team - maybe an office day or something where they're all doing paperwork - and for some reason or another their shirt gets ruined. It's fine. No biggie. They've got a plain white t-shirt still in their go bag, and it's not like they've gotta see anyone else, it's just paperwork. They'll go change in the bathroom quickly.
Only to be absolutely horrified by the sight of this shirt when they get there - not a plain white t-shirt, but this stupid birthday gift that was just a gag, definitely not ever meant to see the light of day, only ever used as a sleep shirt.
I just find the concept absolutely hilarious of reader just walking out of the bathroom with cheeks flaming, wearing this. Criminal profiler, professional, hunter of serial killers, and this is the shirt they are wearing. Idk I think it's funny lol
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・*:.。.─_*✧.。.:*・# ゚CRIMINAL MINDS ミ
Warnings = **
x teen!reader / x child!reader / x daughter!reader / x gn!reader / x reader / x sibling!reader / son!reader / romantic!reader / ftm!reader / mtf!reader
I don’t own Criminal Minds or any of the characters in Criminal Minds , I only own the imagines that I have created in tumblr or wattpad.
Main masterlist
*✧.。.:*・# CHARACTERS ミ
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IMAGINE
Chocolate & Movies ** - your dad helping you with period cramps - Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader
SERIES
The Team Baby ** - just a bunch of fics with reader being the youngest bau member - father figure Aaron Hotchner x youngest!Bau!reader, Bau x youngest!Bau!reader (coming soon)
HEADCANON
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stvrlitsky · 6 months
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It so annoying when you are scrolling through posts and accidentally somehow vote for a pole that you have no idea about
(Like dude that's not even the character I like)
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year
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Hi Atlas :0 i have new request but for BAU team with teen!werewolf!reader?
Hotch & Rossi are the only ones to know about reader being a werewolf when he is put on the team bc government wanted to keep him under the eye and recruited him in the end, his records are sealed so Penny doesn't snoop around the important stuff lol. And Rossi being his handler and the main person to see after the boy, to do a report to Hotch about his performance etc. And the reader mostly being there for scent search ( like the reader has a sharp nose for scents and us able to distinguish them with ease even if old and somewhat able to even if masked under fresher scents or added scents) but he's in general a lot faster with more stamina and energy to burn unlike humans .
So the team gets to know the reader's so called secret by seeing him action just zooming past them to catch up with a escaping Unsub in a mountain-like scenery and they're having a hard time catching up to them bc Rossi gave him the go ahead bc the Unsub would otherwise be able to escape in-between the trees and rocks.
Just imagine reader being big enough in his werewolf form(doesn't matter if 4- or 2-legged form to me (as in folklore or twilight type lol) ) that he can just plop all his weight down on the Unsub and pin them to the ground. Possibly disarm them by grabbing the thing in their hands or biting their arms/wrists.
How would the team react? Would they have had some suspicions on the topic?
Sorry the request's a bit long again lmao. Please if the request is too much, your requests are closed or you just don't feel like it, don't feel pressured to do it! Stay hydrated, have a nice day and keep your head up! uwu
Okay, so I wasn't going to write this originally because I wasn't sure how to, but then I started thinking about it and ideas kind of just came to me aha. I hope you like it, I'm posting it now because I just finished writing it and I'm giggling and I just wanted to post it because I think it's funny, but not like a funny funny like a stupid funny if that makes sense?
Warnings: Bullet wound, blood, make shift first aid
Word count: 1385
“A handler?” You asked in disbelief, you scoff, shaking your head at the director with a laugh, “I don’t fucking think so, I’m not a dog-”
“We need someone to monitor you who’s on the team.” He said, pausing before continuing, “Like a mentor,”
“Then call it a mentor. Not a fucking handler,”
“Could you give us a minute?” Rossi asked, speaking for the first time. Hotch, Strauss, and the Director look at each other for a minute before leaving the room. 
“The prick may as well ask me to roll over,” You muttered bitterly, wiping the frustrated tear that had made its way down your cheek.
“Look, kid, all I’m going to be doing is making sure you’re settling in okay,” Rossi said with a shrug, “I don’t care about what else they’re saying. I’m only concerned about if you’re okay.”
That’s how you were introduced to one: the fact that you would be working with the BAU, and two: that you’d have a ‘handler’ constantly monitoring you. 
When you met the team, an hour or so later, they noticed that you seemed to be full of energy and, despite only having met Rossi an hour ago, seemed to be pretty loyal to him already. Over the next coming months, your secret (as promised) was kept between you, Rossi, and Hotch. All the team knew was that you ‘had good tracking skills’ and that’s why you were recruited. You knew the truth was going to come out eventually, but you didn’t think you would ever be prepared. 
There wasn’t much difference with this case then the others, an unsub who was a horrible person, lashed out at people, the usual. He even had a lair surrounded by woods. When you found him and the team confronted him, he ran (also not unusual) and he was fast (unusual), really fast (definitely unusual). 
You stare at Rossi until he nods, giving you approval. You pelt your legs fast after the unsub, even if you did lose him, you’d be able to find him quickly. He stunk of the familiar scent of blood, mixed with cigarettes, and Jack Daniels. You let yourself shift as you run, the familiar feeling of your bones resetting subtly as you did so - more energy and strength seeping through your body as you changed, clothes tearing as your body transformed. Soon enough, you’re ready to drop down on all fours, a growl crawling up your throat you do. It doesn’t take you long to catch up with him, maybe thirty seconds. When you do, you tackle him to the ground, keeping him pinned with a heavy paw, you lift your head into the air, howling loudly to signal to Rossi that he’s been detained.
The team stared at you in absolute shock when you walked back over to them, now dressed in the spare clothes Hotch and Rossi always kept close by (as a just in case). 
“What the fuck-” Derek’s the first to speak.
“It’s sort of a long story?” You reply, unsure. 
“There’s been numerous sightings of werewolf individuals throughout history, not to mention clinical lycanthropy,” Spencer chimes in.
“So you’re a-?”
“Say it,” You say dramatically, you hear Rossi and Hotch sigh deeply, already knowing where this was going. “Say it. Out loud.”
Derek and Emily share a confused look. “Werewolf.” Hotch mumbled, hoping to get this whole thing over with.
You turn around dramatically, “Are you afraid?”
“No.” You grin, you had never heard Hotch sound so done with you in your life. This was brilliant. 
“This is the face of a killer, Bella.” You say, disappointed when none of them get your reference. “Really? None of you? JJ, come on, you know what Cullen means, surely you get it?”
“Sorry, I’ve never actually seen Twilight,”
“Ugh,” You groaned, “Penelope would get it, you all need to be more like Penelope and laugh at my jokes,”
“No need to bite back so hard, kid,” Derek grins. 
“If this becomes a frequent thing, I might actually kill you.” You state. 
“You’re all bark and no bite,” A growl sounds through your throat and your eyes flash. Derek puts his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright, no more jokes. Can you eat chocolate though? Serious question. Rossi, why’s he looking at me like that? Rossi, Rossi-!” Derek yelped as you tackled him to the ground.
“Yes I can eat chocolate, it makes me feel sick though.” You answer, you hadn’t shifted, you just wanted to scare him a little. “Nice yelp though, sounded like a little girl.”
“I did not!”
“Yeah, you did,” Emily answered with a snort. 
Now, months later, you stand in a warehouse, locating the unsub with Rossi whilst you wait for backup. “He’s definitely here,” You mumble, “Jesus, he eats a lot of fast food,” Rossi gives a small snort, “I think he’s in here,” You say, pointing at the room just ahead of you. Rossi nods, raising his gun slightly as he begins to enter the room, you’re close behind.
You watch in horror as the gun cocks into place, you let yourself start to shift - knowing that you wouldn’t be able to make it in time in human form. You weren’t going to let them get hurt. You were nothing if not loyal. Rossi waits for the bullet. He knew it was going to happen eventually, it was inevitable in this line of work. But the bullet doesn’t come, instead, the crack of the gun in heard, as well as the sound of impact. Then nothing. And then the small whine comes. It’s pathetic and sounds like a wounded animal. A wounded animal. It clicks and Rossi looks around, spotting the form of a wolf, he watches as the fur shifts, slowly turning to skin in order to preserve your energy. 
Another shot sounds and the unsub drops down dead. Rossi sends a brief nod of thanks to Morgan as he rushes over to you, shrugging off his windbreaker to place over you. Morgan joins him, peering over you, eyes widening when he sees the bullet wound. He reaches for the radio, “We need a-” Rossi puts his hand up and Derek stops.
“What do you need us to do?” Rossi asked, turning back to you.
“Rossi, he needs an ambulance,”
You shook your head, “My body will heal, I just need to get it out,” Rossi nodded as you lifted your head, the bullet wasn’t too far in. You could probably just reach in and grab it, you’re body would flush out any infection or bacteria that was in the wound and you’d be as good as new within a day or two. Your fingers hovered above the bullet wound and you let your head drop back to the floor. You take a deep breath before you plunge the fingers into the wound, feeling for the bullet. Your back arches and you ground your teeth, you clench the bullet with your finger tips and force yourself to take a deep breath before you pass out or something. And then, when you’ve got a good grip, you yank it out. And fuck it hurts. You groan loudly through your teeth, throwing the bullet to the floor.
“You okay?” Derek asked, you huff a small laugh as you nod.
“Just peachy,” You mumble. “I’ll be fine. The outside of the wound will close within a few hours anyway,”
“Won’t you bleed out?”
“Should be fine,” You said with a shrug, “This is hardly the first time I’ve been shot,” And with that, you force yourself back on your feet, clutching a hand to the wound as you walk.
When you’re back on the jet, now with a gauze over your wound, you lay slowly on the couch. “I know what will help,” You say, lifting your head up slightly, “I’m going to make you all watch Twilight. You need to get my jokes - they’re like over half of my humour and none of that can be appreciated if you haven’t seen it.”
“Is it any good?” Emily asked, you shook your head.
“Nope, it’s absolute horse crap,”
“Then why make us watch it?”
“Because you all need to suffer to get my humour,” You said, before adding, “And I’m injured so you can’t say no,”
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notti-stellate · 10 months
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Do you guys ever get a little too caught up in a day-dream about a character and accidentally make yourself cry? For example, I was thinking about being Aaron Hotchner's daughter and mourning his death and I got caught up in it... I've been sobbing uncontrollably for an hour or so. This is a (far too common) regular occurrence for me.
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the-guilty-writer · 1 year
Text
Can't Lose Her Too
Request from anon: Hotch x daughter reader when her depression is really bad  and she barely eats and sleeps all the time and doesnt want to see anyone or do anything??
Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader
Summary: When your depression hits, your father’s ghosts come back to him.
A/N: Did I intend for this to be Taylor Swift related? No. Did it happen that way? Yes. Yes it did.
CW: reader has depression, mentions of reduced food intake, mentions of Haley and Foyet, lots of sad Hotch
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When my depression works the graveyard shift All of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room - Taylor Swift, Anti-Hero
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Aaron got home early for once- around 7 o’clock instead of the usual 9 to midnight. In addition to that, it was a Friday and Strauss had a different team on call that weekend, which meant no interruptions, no emergency cases, and more time with his kids.
He unlocked the door, stepped into the house, and was immediately greeted by Jack’s arms around his legs, throwing his balance for a second.
“Hey, buddy.” He smiled and ruffled his son’s hair.
“Hi, daddy.” Jack beamed up at him, his small arms still wrapped around his father’s legs. Aaron put down his briefcase by the door and picked the boy up- Jack was already 5 years old, but Aaron would carry him as long as he could, not wanting to miss more of his son's childhood than he already had.
“You’re home early,” Jessica said as she walked into the living area from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he told her. “The team got lucky and we didn’t have as much work this week so I let everyone go home.” He put Jack down and the young boy ran off to resume playing with his toys.
“Well, everyone’s homework for the weekend is done. Jack already ate dinner and there’s some leftover in the fridge for you and (Y/N),” Jessica said.
Hotch furrowed his brow. “Still?”
Jessica sighed and looked down. “Still.”
When Haley died, one of the first things Aaron did was put you and Jack in counseling- better to do damage control now than to face the consequences years later- but it seemed, to no one's fault, that you were going to need more than that. The event with Foyet had left you traumatized, but you’d worked through it well. Even the loss of your mother wasn’t the cause of the lows you experienced.
Aaron knew better than anybody else that there were things about the brain that were unexplainable in origin and uncontrollable to the being it belonged to; he only wished you hadn’t been an unlucky victim of the chemical warfare of the mind. You’d already been a victim of too much already.
“Thanks again for watching them,” he said.
Jessica shook her head. “We’re family. It’s what we do.” She said goodbye to Jack and grabbed her coat before heading out the door.
“Daddy!” Jack called. “Can you come play?”
“A little later, buddy.” Aaron had made his way to the kitchen, heating up leftover dinner for you and himself. “I’m going to check on your sister.”
“Can I come too?” Jack asked.
Hotch hesitated. You were prone to irritability, especially when your depression became exceptionally overwhelming. Of course, you’d never purposefully say anything mean to your brother, but it was better that the only people in your room- your personal space- were you and the adults you trusted.
“Well,” he said, “it's almost your bedtime. So why don’t you get ready for bed and after I talk to (Y/N) we can read a story.”
“Even a comic book?”
“Even a comic book.”
Jack dashed upstairs without another word. Aaron plated the food for you and him, carefully carrying it up the stairs and knocking on your bedroom door.
“Sweetheart,” he called softly- it was the nickname he had been calling you since you were a child, just as he had always used “buddy” for Jack. “Can I come in?”
There was a murmured “Sure” that came through the door. When Aaron stepped through, he wasn’t surprised to find that the lights were off and you were wiping sleep away from your eyes.
“Hey,” he closed the door behind him and turned the lights on as dim as they could go. “You take a nap?”
“Yeah,” you said sleepily.
“I figured we could eat dinner together.” He sat on the edge of the bed and handed you a plate, though he wasn’t sure if you would actually eat it or just cut it into pieces and push it around with your fork.
“What time is it?” You asked.
“7:30,” he said. He began to eat his dinner, watching passively to see if you would too. “Jack is getting ready for bed.”
You nodded and took a small bite of food- a baby step forward. The rest of the meal was eaten slow and silent, but your dad didn't mind. Any time he got to spend with you was precious, especially since you didn't want to do much these days. Any time you ate something, anything, offered to you it brought him relief.
You finished about a fourth of your meal. Your dad knew better than to question if you wanted more- instead he just put your plate on top of his empty one.
“You want to do anything once Jack goes to sleep?” he asked.
You shook your head. “I’m tired.”
“Okay.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you too,” you mumbled and tucked yourself back under the covers.
He left your room, quietly closing the door behind him. He put the plates by the staircase so he wouldn’t forget to take them down before he went to bed and then walked to Jack’s room. The door was wide open, the little boy already wearing his favorite set of fire truck pajamas and tucked under the covers. Aaron expected him to be holding a comic book- one of the new ones with Captain America on it- but instead he was holding Haley’s candle.
“No comic book?” he asked.
Jack shook his head. “No. I thought we could talk to mommy instead.”
Aaron smiled just a little and nodded. He knelt next to Jack and lit the candle for him. The reflection of the flame danced in his dilated pupil as he silently thought of his mom and then he blew it out.
“All done,” Jack said.
Aaron placed the candle on the nightstand and gave Jack a kiss on the forehead, just as he had done for you. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”
“I love you too, daddy,” Jack said, settling under the blankets.
Aaron walked to the door and flipped off the lights. He was about to leave when he heard Jack’s voice again.
“I asked mommy if she could grant me a wish,” he said.
“Oh?” Jack didn’t usually tell your dad what he ‘talked’ to his mom about, which was something he was okay with. His children’s relationship with their mother was sacred and personal- something they should only have to share with others if they wanted to. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Jack said, his head peeking out from under the blankets. “I asked her to help (Y/N) get better.”
A sad smile warped Aaron’s features. “That’s a nice thing to ask for.”
“Yeah,” Jack hummed sleepily. “Goodnight, daddy.”
“Goodnight, buddy.”
Aaron closed the door and went back downstairs. The silence in the house was deafening- there should have been a movie on, or the clicking of a keyboard, or even soft music playing from your phone. But you were upstairs asleep, not wanting to do anything or be with anyone. He could have taken the time to enjoy the quiet, but he couldn’t. He tried to read, or get ahead on paperwork, or even clean (though the house didn’t need it), but he couldn’t be happy about the silence that was a result of your loss of joy.
He went to bed early, following his normal night routine until he got into bed and rolled over onto his side.
Haley’s candle was on the nightstand.
He sat up, taking a deep breath before gently reaching for the candle and lighting it. A tear fell from his eye as he watched the flame burn in front of him- a reminder of everything he had lost.
Honey, he thought. If you hear this, please help her. I’ve already lost you… I can’t lose her too.
I really can’t lose her too.
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