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Hey, I was wondering if you're going to write more parts for "This means war". I love it, and I really need to find out how it ends! No pressure though.
hi!!! thanks so much to you, and everyone else who sent asks about This Means War! the love is appreciated.
just wanted to let all of you know, that me and @pitaparka are taking a little break from writing it.
currently, I am watching criminal minds, hence why all of my recents have been CM related. she, on the other hand, has been waiting for me to finish whilst watching other films.
when I finish the series, we are planning to rewatch the second season of the punisher. when we do, we will likely pick up on This Means War, and continue writing parts to it :)
summary: you struggle with your problems as the team enjoys themselves around you, but when it all gets too be too much, Spencer comforts you and promises to get you help
pairings: spencer reid x reader
warnings: eating disorder!!! pls do not read past the read more bar if you struggle with this or have struggled recently. weight, calorie counting, and other triggering behaviors ARE mentioned
please keep in mind that my inbox is always open to talk, if you ever need someone too. I understand, and I'm here for you.
if not, here’s a hotline you could always call 1-630-577-1330
a/n: like stated above, I’m here for anyone struggling and wanting to talk. in saying that, I want to make it clear that while writing this I pulled a lot from personal experiences. things might not have been the same for you, but that doesn't invalidate what either of us went through
You lift up your t-shirt as you pass the mirror, eyes trained on your stomach as your other hand kneads the flesh there.
You had overeaten today, and it was showing. You should’ve skipped one meal, at least, but you hadn’t skipped any. Your plans to not have any dinner were ruined when the team insisted everyone went out together. Normally, on these days, you’d skip all other meals, only eating around the others. But you hadn’t known. And you felt terrible.
Every bite you took, you had to force down. You were so focused on counting the calories you were adding on to your already existing total that you barely contributed to the conversation.
You could make yourself throw it up, but you didn’t want the others to pick up on the fact that something was wrong.
Even still, as you tugged down your top, you stared at the empty stalls through the reflective glass in front of you. You had enough time to try.
Pulling you from your thoughts, Emily pokes her head into the bathroom.
“Hey, you alright? We were starting to get worried.”
You refocus your attention on her, flashing a forced smile, “I’m fine.”
She nods slowly, gesturing for you to follow her out, “Come on. We were talking about getting dessert.”
Your panic spikes at her comment, and you’re careful to keep your voice steady as you and her walk back towards the table.
“Dessert? I think I’ll pass, I’m already pretty full.”
“Too late,” Spencer chuckles as the two of you sit back down with the others, apparently having picked up on what you said, “I ordered you some cake. What’s one slice?”
A lot. Roughly 247 calories, if the cake was just plain. But it wouldn’t be, not here, not at this restaurant. Adding on all the toppings that were sure to be placed on the slice, it would be at least 762. On top of the meal you just had.
Suddenly you felt like you might really throw up.
You shake your head at him, “No. I can’t. That’s so many calories.”
The comment slips before you can stop yourself.
“I’m trying for that marathon, remember? I’m working on being good with what I eat. Cake is... not good.”
You manage a weak chuckle, but it’s passable, and the others seem to accept your response a bit more because of it.
“I’ll train with you extra hard tomorrow. But tonight... we eat cake!”
Everyone laughs at Morgan’s joke, but you can barely manage a smile. You couldn’t find a way out of this, and you were starting to panic. You could have a few bites, tell everyone you weren’t feeling well, and leave early? Or you could go to the bathroom and make yourself throw up what you had had earlier? But in both cases, the others would question you. How’d you’d gotten sick so quickly. Why you hadn’t mentioned anything earlier.
“Hey.”
The hand over your own makes you jump slightly, you gaze slowly lifting to meet Spencer’s.
“Are you okay? Do you want to get some air?”
You don’t verbally respond, instead just nodding, allowing him to excuse the two of you from the group and lead you both outside. You immediately sit down on the curb, ignoring the way your friend grimaced in disgust.
“Do you know how many germs are on the ground?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging slightly.
He sighs, “Can I sit?”
“What about the germs?”
“They don’t seem to important right now.”
Regarding him carefully, you nod. He takes this as his sign, quietly sitting besides you, hands in his lap as he stares in your direction. You watch the ground, picking out the darker spots of concrete with your eyes as you avoid his.
“Are you okay? I mean, is something wrong? You’ve been acting weird all night.”
“I’m fine.”
“Has anyone ever said those words and meant them?”
You glance over at him, smiling at the words you had so often used on him. He was still watching you, his warm eyes filled you with both comfort and some of his own concern.
“Sometimes they’re easier to say than saying what’s really wrong.”
“So something is wrong?”
You drop your eyes back the ground, this time refocusing them on his shoes. You smile as you take in his mismatched socks, the fabric pulled taunt to showcase the pattern.
On one foot, he donned a hotdog pattern. On the other, hamburgers. Both socks different shades of blue and red.
As you stare, you begin to remember your own lunch, and your smile fades. You’re not out here to look at Spencer’s socks.
“Y/N?”
The color had drained from your face, the air seemingly knocked out of you as you tried to stand. You only managed to stumble backwards, Spencer’s hand quickly reaching up to steady you.
“Woah, slow down there,” He stands up as he speaks, his hand never once leaving its spot on your forearm.
But it was too late. You were already shoving him away and pushing yourself towards the alley between the restaurant and the adjacent building.
As you emptied the content of your stomach, you felt Spencer behind you, hands pulling your hair back.
He only let it go once he was certain you had finished, your own hand coming up to wipe your mouth.
“Are you sick?”
You shake your head at the man, quickly moving to step around him.
You were disgusted with yourself. You had just thrown up in front of Spencer. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you were glad you had. Relieved even.
“Y/N, can you just talk to me?”
His hand is on your wrist again, but this time, it’s pulling you back towards him.
“I can’t.”
You finally meet his eyes, tears already threatening to fall out of your own, “I can’t because I don’t know how. I don’t know how to talk to you about this.”
“Can you try? I just want to help.”
You nod slowly, allowing him to pull you out of the center of the sidewalk and closer to the building once more.
“You can’t help. I don’t... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t eat like you guys can. It freaks me out. The thought of having too much. Of gaining more... you know. I just... I need to know how many calories everything has. If I have too many...”
“Y/N... Is that why you almost passed out the other day?”
You nod sheepishly, recalling the incident clearly.
You had skipped breakfast that morning, and lunch and dinner the day before. You figured coffee would be enough of a meal replacer. But you were thoroughly unprepared for the hot weather you’d be dealing with on the case. And the foot chase you had with the unsub. Almost as soon as Morgan had got him in cuffs, you nearly collapsed.
“We have to get you help,” he starts, frowning as you begin to shake your head, “I’m not going to sit back and watch someone I love do this to themselves.”
He loved you. He had said it, and from the way he was looking at you, you knew he had meant it. But you didn’t want to rope him into your issues. You didn’t want to make him feel like you were another responsibility he had to take on. You loved him, but you didn’t deserve him.
“Spencer—“
“No, we’re not going to talk about us, okay? We’re going to focus on getting you better. And... It’s going to be a process. It’s not going to be easy. But I’m going to be here for you. Every step of the way. And when you’re ready, we can talk about it. Okay?”
His arms wrapped around you, your tears silent as you nodded into his chest.
It wouldn’t be easy, that you were certain.
You would have your hard days, where not even Spencer’s motivations would be able to deter you from your bad habits. But you knew there’d be good days too. Where you’d forget about how many calories your chicken had and what type of seasoning would add the most to it, and instead just enjoy. You wanted to get there. You wanted to learn to love yourself. And you knew that had to start here.
summary: the newest member of the bau is one of the easiest people to like... but after days of back and forth flirting, you find out that he might be keeping something from you
pairings: luke alvez x reader
warnings: none!
a/n: I just started season 12 and I love Luke. A lot. An unnatural amount. It’s sort of a problem.
The saying stands that there’s a rainbow after every storm. That with all bad, comes a good to balance it.
But you didn’t buy it.
You knew better than to believe that. That was something they fed to children, to keep them going when things are hard. That was something normal adults used to overcome everyday challenges. But you didn’t deal with everyday challenges. Your issues were bigger than spilt coffee and flat tires.
Your everyday was serial killers, rapists, abductors... you get the drift. It wasn’t ever rainbows and sunshine, but you learned to live with that.
You took the small things you were given, and you cherished them.
Like you did with the arrival of the teams newest member.
Luke Alvez.
His timing couldn’t have been more bittersweet. 12 serial killers had just escaped from prison, and he was taken on to help you find them.
It was great, having an extra set of hands. But the stress hardly allowed for anyone to get to know the new guy, let alone you.
In the coming weeks, however, the two of you had gotten closer. It started with just casual conversation, something to pass the time spent during long car rides. But with each case you two were paired together on, the more comfortable the two of you got.
Your relationship was of the flirtatious nature. Nothing serious, purely playful. Although, you couldn’t say you’d mind if it was serious.
The man was attractive, there was no denying that. But he was also charming. And funny. And hardworking. And... positively off limits.
Which Garcia didn’t fail to remind you of, every time she caught you staring.
Roxy, you learned her name was.
You didn’t know how she didn’t come up. You actually couldn’t believe that she hadn’t come up. Was he hiding his girlfriend from you? He had no problem mentioning it to Garcia. And the worst part was? He didn’t even seem to realize that you were annoyed with him.
Ever the oblivious one, he couldn’t take a hint. Even now, as he followed you out to the elevators after returning from a case, a smirk was on his lips.
“You know, doll, I think we could still snag a reservation at this restaurant downtown. It’s busy, but I know the owner and—”
Was he seriously asking you out? To dinner? At 10pm on a Tuesday? D
You huffed and turned the face the man trailing behind you, his sudden stop an obvious indication that your mood change came as a surprise.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Like...?”
“Like at home. With Roxy. Your girlfriend.”
Within seconds, the man before you burst into laughter, his eyes shutting as the sound bubbles out of him. If you weren’t so annoyed with him, you might’ve found it cute.
“Okay. Whatever, I’m leaving.”
You don’t make it far before his hand is grasping your wrist, turning you so you’re facing him once more. With only a glare, his hand falls from your own, releasing his grip.
“I have to go home to see Roxy, you’re right.”
“See, I knew it—”
“Because I have the fill her bowl,” he interrupts, a large grin still on his face, “And take her out to pee. And maybe to give her some belly rubs.”
It takes you only a second to realize what he means, and you’re quick to close your eyes in regret, as you groan. A small part of you wished he was talking about a girl and just had some really weird kinks.
“Luke, I’m so sorry. Like so sorry. God, I... You know, I think I’m just going to take the stairs.”
“Y/N, why would you think that Roxy was my girlfriend? I’ve mentioned my dog to you before.”
And you realize, he’s right, he had. But you had completely forgotten that. Actually, you had completely forgotten everything he’d said to you after Garcia told you her very inaccurate tidbit of information. It was practically all you could focus on.
“I just... heard,” you cringe, sighing as you watched his expression turn into one of amusement.
“Well, I promise you. I don’t have a girlfriend. Roxy is my dog. My very cute dog, who I think you should meet one day.”
“Even after... that?”
“Oh, especially after that,” he chuckles, slipping an arm around you and reaching to hit the elevator button before lingering around your waist, “I think I like seeing you jealous.”
You scoff, quickly shoving him off of you, “I wasn’t jealous! That’s... absurd. I was merely worried. For her. I didn’t think she knew you were asking other people on dates.”
“So dinners a date now?”
He looked completely smug as he watched you struggle for your next choice of words, his eyes never once leaving yours.
Clearing your throat, you press the button once more, muttering, “Slow elevator today.”
He’s silent as the two of you wait, the door opening only a moment later. You both step in, standing a respective distance apart.
The air filling the small space is awkward. Uncomfortable, even. And the silence stays as he presses the button for the ground floor, your eyes staying glued to their place on the ground.
“I wasn’t asking as a date earlier... but I certainly wouldn’t mind it being one.”
Casting your eyes upward, you find his gaze already awaiting yours, an almost sheepish smile on his lips. His very nice lips.
“I feel like I’ve been pretty obvious about it but, I like you. And I’d really like if you went out with me.”
A small smile falls onto your own lips as you let his words linger for a moment before responding.
“I probably shouldn’t.”
His face falls, but he quickly nods, “Oh. That’s okay—”
“Garcia is going to get mad at me. She told me to get over you.”
“Over me, huh?”
You grin as his arm loosely wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you speak, “Mhm. It was more like the idea of you. Since, you know... you were off limits.”
“Right. We can’t forget about Roxy.”
You shake your head, quickly leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. Before you can pull away, his hands find their way to your face, holding you to him for a moment longer.
When you both finally part, you’re left breathless. A part of you is worried that your kiss would ruin things between you both. But the way Luke was looking at you told you otherwise.
“So... does that mean I’m getting a date?”
You nod slightly as you wrap your own arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, “Only if we keep this from Garcia. Just... for a little while.”
“Keep what from Garcia?”
The doors to the elevator slid open to reveal a distracted Penelope, allowing the two of you enough time to spring apart before she glances up.
“Oh. It’s you.”
Luke rolls his eyes at the blonde, stepping around her, “Hi to you too Penelope.”
She sighs, linking her arms through yours and pulling you away, “Goodnight Newbie. What do you say we get some drinks, Y/N? It’s been a long day.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the wink Luke sends you, a smile of your own on your face as you turn your head, absentmindedly nodding along to whatever your friend was saying. Truth be told, you were a little distracted.
You might have just found yourself a little rainbow.
hi!!! i just wanted to pop in and say that i binged ur masterlist list when i was having a bad day and it instantly made me feel better, i love love love ur concepts❤️
ahh thank you so much!! 🥺
sorry for not being active lately :( ive been very unmotivated but I promise something new will be going up later
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i’ve been a follower for a while and i’m kinda disappointed in your new stuff :/ seems aimed for younger viewers, which sucks
to be completely transparent, the writing youre referring to was probably done when i made my blog. i was around 13 :)
it’s been 4 years. i’d argue that my writing has matured, but if my 13 year old povs did it for you then... i have everything still linked in my master list, ready for rereads! there’s also plenty of blogs who write specifically for older readers.
also worth mentioning! my writing is geared more towards a younger audience now because of the fandoms ive been writing for. OBX specifically. all of the characters are teens. i’m not going to write an adult x a teen. if someone wants me to give my take on where i think the characters would all be as adults in a requested fic, i’d do that. but no ones asked for that, and i haven’t wanted to write it.
so, i’m sorry you feel that way, but there’s really not much i can do for you! i am writing for Criminal Minds now, which insinuates older reader inserts. maybe that’s more your speed? but if you’re gearing towards something else, something more specific, im not a mind reader. just drop an ask, and i’d be happy to write it for you :)
summary: you and spencer first meet in a coffee shop. months later, the two of you are finally together, but that doesn’t stop spencer from reminiscing on what happened during your first meeting
pairings: spencer reid x you
warnings: none
a/n: i loved writing this 🥺 it was also inspired by @danielleslegacy‘s fic “For The Soul”! I’ve literally gone back to reread it so many times so please check it out if you get the chance. It’s really good :)
“If it isn’t my favorite customer!”
“Looks like I’m your only customer,” Spencer teases, leaning against the counter as he looks around the empty shop.
“Wow. Pretty boys got jokes now?”
He nods in response, taking note of the way you mirror his position before pressing a light kiss to his lips.
“Mhmm,” he chuckles, bringing your lips back to his once more before you can completely pull away, “Pretty boy is also here to offer you some food.”
You gasp excitedly, “No! You brought food with you?”
“I... well, no. I don’t have it on me. I was just wondering if you’d want to go get some with me.”
His cheeks flush in embarrassment as you laugh, nodding despite your playful words, “I don’t know, Spence. I’m pretty tied up here.”
Spencer sighs, gesturing around for dramatic affect, “Oh, you mean tied up with me and only me? Your literal only customer?”
“Hey! If you came in at a normal time, you wouldn’t be the only one in here.”
He scoffs slightly, glancing at his watch, “It’s a normal time! It’s barely 6pm.”
“We close at 5,” you remind, a smile on your lips as you move to make his coffee.
“Which I still think is ridiculous. People drink coffee after 5.”
“I don’t make the rules, I just break them to meet you here, okay? Besides, the people who drink coffee late are the same people who don’t like to sleep.”
“Actually, caffeine isn’t known to affect sleep patterns. There was a study done that proved that people who drink coffee within a four hour window of them going to bed didn’t deal with any side effects. It can change depending on each individual’s sensitivity but,” he pauses, taking the coffee cup you slid over to him and sipping it before continuing, “it’s unlikely it’d change someone’s preexisting sleep pattern.”
You pull off your apron, smiling, “I can’t get over how you know all of that.”
“All of what?”
You quickly grab your coat and keys from where you had them set behind you, stepping out from behind the counter and playful tapping Spencer’s head as you come up besides him, “All those facts. It’s amazing to me that you remember everything.”
He returns your smile, “It’s only because I have an—”
“Eidetic memory. You mentioned it to me once. Which, you probably remember,” you laugh.
And he does. He can remember the day clearly.
It was only a few days after the two of you had first met.
Spencer was adamant on getting coffee from the small shop on the corner, insisting that they had the best brew, and great service.
Which, obviously was referring to one manager in particular.
He had entered on a whim one night, noting the empty shop and hoping for a quick coffee.
He nearly scared you half to death. You were closing, you pointed out to him, but had evidently forgotten to lock the doors before beginning to put everything away.
He profusely apologized and almost ran out the door, but you insisted you could make his coffee. It was the least you could do, you’d said.
And thus, Spencer’s inevitable return. But this time, during the stores hours. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had quickly learnt your schedule.
And on that day, he knew you’d be working. The team was with him, but he didn’t mind. He just wanted to see you.
As they ordered, the others gravitated into their own conversations, an easy flow forming between all of them.
He made sure to go last, keeping himself towards the end of the line so that the others would already have their drinks, and he’d have his moment to talk to you without them overhearing.
So as soon as he could slip away, Spencer moved towards the “Ready Order” area, smiling fondly as he watched you make his drink.
“Spencer! Look who finally learned our hours.”
He laughs, “Crazy thing, there’s a sign on the door here that has them written down.”
You nod, placing a lid on his cup before sliding it over to him, “We had to put that up this week. You wouldn’t believe it, some guy just walked in here after hours. It was like he owned the place.”
“Huh, really? Too bad the doors weren’t locked.”
You roll your eyes, nodding your head in the direction of his team, “Are those your friends?”
“Yeah.”
His mind whirls with fears as he awaits your response. Were you going to ask for him to set you up with one of them? Had he completely misread your interest in him?
“They seem like fun. Maybe we could all hang out sometime? Or... you know, just us?”
Relief flooded him instantly, his body immediately relaxing. He hadn’t read you wrong.
“Or, not. That’s okay too!”
This time, he had taken too long to respond and you had read him wrong, taking his exhale as some type of rejection, quickly pushing back from the counter.
“No,” His hand reached across, quickly grabbing your wrist to stop you. He almost instantly let go, sheepishly running a hand through his hair as you stared at him questioniongly.
“No,” he continued, “I’d really love that. Us hanging out. We could go to that diner you like, just down the road?”
“How did you... I only mentioned that once.”
“I have an eidetic memory,” he shrugs.
You chuckle softly, “Right. I’d love that. Text me when works for you?”
Spencer smiles, nodding as he turns to walk away. His happiness almost instantly sours as he hurriedly turns on his heel.
“Wait! I don’t have your number.”
You turn back from where your standing, pointing gently towards the cup in his hand, “You do now.”
He laughs and gives you a small salute as you get back to work, before quickly making his way back over to the group.
“What was all that about?”
“All what?” Spencer muses, ignoring the suspecting glances from his friends as he sips his coffee.
“That. The little hand thing. And the—woah, wait, is that a phone number?”
Spencer quickly shifts his hand to cover the digits scribbled on the cup, “It was nothing. And no. It’s... my order number.”
“I don’t have one of those.”
“Yeah, neither do I,” JJ adds, grinning alongside Morgan at her friend’s obvious embarrassment.
By some saving grace, Rossi rejoins the group and the focus shifts as he lets out a low whistle, hand vaguely gesturing around, “Hell of a place.”
Spencer glances behind the man, watching as a woman keeps her gaze trained on his back before quickly turning back to her friends.
“Who’s that?”
“Wife number five, if i’m not careful.”
The others laugh in unison as the older man sips his drink, tossing a glance over his shoulder to the woman he was just talking to. His eyes quickly flick over to Reid as Morgan begins to speak, brow quirking in question.
“What about you, pretty boy? Who’s she?”
All eyes fall to your frame behind the counter. You were finishing up another coffee, pouring in the steamed milk to finish off the latte, and softly blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes as you worked. You were laughing at something your coworker had said, and as you glanced up and met Spencer’s eyes, the laugh easily turned to a gentle smile.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hey! :) kinda random but is it a goal or important for you to meet celebs or nah?
hola!!!
i do believe in manifesting goals so in saying that and putting this into the universe i hope it comes true, i would really really love to meet MGG or Thomas Gibson or Harry Styles one day
BUT
it’s not a singular goal that i have set for myself. mostly because if it happens i want it to be natural, and not forced. more often than not, especially if it’s in a meet and greet type setting or if you stalk social medias to find where they’re at, the celeb in question is going to be uncomfortable. i’d rather not do that to them, even though i would love the chance to get to know them, esp those mentioned above, in person
THAT BEING SAID. i have met a few. i’ve met PINK very briefly. she was nice! i’ve also like seen patrick dempsey in person, which id like to count. but yeah.
I’ve seen some people do rec lists and I know I have a wealth of JJ fics that I ABSOLUTELY adore so I wanted to comply them all here!!! So, here’s my JJ Maybank Rec List as of 6/20.
summary: based on s4ep18, reader has personal experience with the reaper and can't fall asleep by herself in her hotel room, so she quickly sneaks into hotch’s
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: mentions of friend death
a/n: this has been written in my drafts for a bit but I just finished it up tonight, hope you enjoy !
With the Reaper on the prowl, nowhere felt safe. You had lived in Boston at the time of his first attacks. You had barely left the house, feeling too unsafe to even attend the majority of your classes. But you were seemingly the only one. Your friends had no qualms about going to classes, or even staying out late with others. Which landed one of them a victim, dead in her boyfriend's car, found hours later with 46 stab wounds to the chest.
It had been years. But you couldn’t forget. You had barely moved forward.
And now? Working the case?
You were terrified.
Your training didn’t make you feel safe. The cops on the case didn’t seem like nearly enough. And your hotel room? Seemed like the worst place to be. You couldn’t stop pacing.
You knew you wouldn’t be getting any sleep. You could barely shower without freaking out.
So you resorted to plan b.
Quickly hopping out of your room, you wrapped a blanket tightly around your shoulders as you rapidly knocked on the door besides yours.
The movement from inside the room is hurried, and you swear you can hear him unholster his gun, the door is pulled open.
You quickly raise your hands, nervously chuckling at the disheveled man before you, “It’s me, don’t shoot.”
Hotch visibly relaxes, pulling the door the rest of the way and allowing you in, “What’re you doing here?”
“I, uh, heard you from next door. Figured I’d stop by, help you work on what we have.”
He didn’t believe you. Hell, you didn’t believe yourself. You weren’t being convincing. But he was kind enough to not point it out.
“Okay,” He nodded, locking the door behind you, “Let me show you.”
The two of you quickly buried yourselves in the files, bouncing ideas off of each other, sharing possible profiles.
When you finally glanced down at your phone, you realized that it was already 3AM. Your fatigue was apparent, weighing you down as you worked, but you couldn’t sleep. You knew you wouldn’t be able to.
Hotch follows your gaze, clearing his throat slightly, “It’s late. Tomorrow we can look at it with fresh eyes, right now we can get to bed—”
“No!”
Your answer is too fast, too nervous.
“No,” you repeat, voice much softer than it was before, “We could keep working? Till morning? Get a head start on the day? I mean... it’s technically already tomorrow.”
“Y/N... what’s wrong?”
You frowned as you watched him look you over, concern flashing through his eyes. You knew you wouldn’t be able to lie to him. Not again.
“I’m scared. I know that’s stupid, and I know we all are, but... I can’t help but think back.”
“You lived here, right?”
You nodded, watching as he cleared the files from the bed, “Yeah. I went to college here. It was my senior year... my friends and I wanted to have a good time but... we couldn’t. Not with him around. Not after what he did to Natalie.”
You hadn’t realized you were crying until Hotch reached out a hand to wipe your cheek, silently beckoning you to continue.
“I told her not to go out. I didn’t— I wouldn’t leave my house. But they did. They weren’t scared. She was never scared. And he killed her... he killed her. He stabbed her 46 times and I couldn’t save her.”
You allowed yourself to revisit the emotions you had locked away, years of heartache making its way to the surface. Hotch’s arms carefully wrapped around you as he let you cry, his hands slowly rubbing up and down your back.
“You couldn’t have known, Y/N.”
“But I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve made her stay home.”
“Hey,” he pulls away slightly, gently pressing a hand to your cheek to wipe away the tears that had fallen, “This isn’t your fault, okay? I promise, there is nothing you could’ve done to stop him then, but now we can.”
“We have to find him, Aaron.”
He barely reacted to the use of his first name, his hand tilting your chin up to face him, “We’re going to find him, okay? But... not if we don’t get any sleep.”
You go to object, but he shakes his head.
“We can’t focus if we’re tired, you know that. Look, you can sleep in here. You’ll take the bed and I’ll take the floor.”
You crinkle your nose, “But it’s your room. And the floor is dirty.”
“It’s my idea. And I’ll make a little bed, so I'm not sleeping directly on the ground.”
After some convincing on his end, Hotch had managed to get you to agree. He was on the floor and you were on the bed, facing towards the door.
Your nerves weren’t eased in the slightest, your heart rate quickening each time you imagined Hotch being the first to be killed in his more vulnerable position.
So you lay still, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, light spilling in from the crack under the door.
“Y/N, go to sleep,” he muttered, his eyes opening to look up at you in the dark —room.
“I can’t,” you replied simply, “Not with you down there. Please. Just... take the other half of the bed?”
Hesitantly, he stood, quietly getting under the covers besides you, keeping a respectful distance between you both.
“What if we don’t find him?”
Your words were so quiet you weren’t even entirely sure he had heard, his shuffling the only indication that he was besides you.
“We’re going to. I’m not going to stop—we’re, not going to stop, until we get him, okay?”
You nod, leaning over and tentatively wrapping an arm around his waist from behind. You’re ready to pull back as he tenses, but he quickly covers your arms with his own, allowing you to snuggle closer to his back in your spooning position.
“You don’t have to do this alone, okay? We’re here for you too. I’m here for you. No matter what happens.”
He sighs softly in response, his shoulders sagging, “I’m scared too.”
It’s like his confession comes as a surprise to you both, the words following them even softer than before, “I don’t want to end up like Shaunessy. I can’t keep letting people die, but I can’t make a deal with him. I… I can’t.”
Your hold tightens on him as he sniffled, memories of the bus explosion from earlier obviously flooding his memories once more.
“I know, Hotch.”
It feels like a long time before you stop noticing your breathing and stop tossing and turning behind Hotch. You’re too cognizant of the way his back moves against your cheek, and the soothing pulse of his heart through your wrist lulls you to sleep.
summary: you and Hotch have been married for a few years, sharing a little boy name Oliver together, and having Jack. this time, Hotch surprises the three of you by making it to one of Jack’s soccer games.
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: none
a/n: inspired by my nephew. who is literally always trying to get himself killed :)
Bang!
The sound wasn’t loud enough that you felt the need to throw yourself down the stairs, but the instant crying that came afterwards had sent you running, makeup half done.
“What happened?”
You son was screaming, his arms immediately reaching out towards you as you approached, tears flowing freely from his eyes.
“We were looking outside and he just, he hit his head.”
“He hit his head?!”
Pulling your baby back to take a closer look at his crying face, you noticed the bump already starting to form on his forehead.
Casting his father a glare, you cradle him close, “Seriously, Aaron? Did you forget to watch him?”
“What? I was watching him, he was just squirming, he’s a baby-”
“Exactly. Which is why you should’ve been watching him better.”
Taking the small boy over to the couch, you held him to you, shushing him until his cries quieted down. You watched as your husband watched in concern, keeping a safe distance as he stood in the doorway of your kitchen.
Tickling the boy’s side lightly, he slowly smiles, tucking his face against your neck, “You can’t do that anymore, baby. Mommy is going to get you a helmet if you don’t stop.”
The boy, Oliver, giggles, fidgeting in a way you can only imagine mirrored what had gotten him in the bump provoking position just minutes earlier.
Setting him down in your lap, you glanced over at your husband. He looked nervous, guilty even. His dark eyes kept flashing between the child and the ground.
“I’m sorry.”
You sigh lightly, shaking your head, “Me too. I shouldn’t have blamed you. But... He’s going to be fine, right?”
“What?”
“It’s just, this is my first kid. You’ve gone through this already with Jack. Is he... Will he be okay?”
Hotch nods, coming over and sitting besides you, letting the small child crawl over into his lap and tightly holding him.
He watched him for a moment before speaking, “I wasn’t... home a lot. With Jack when he was little, I mean. Whenever I was, Haley always had everything taken care of. Whenever he fell, I didn’t even know how bad it was, because she’d already have it handled. So, this is my first time too.”
You glanced between him and Oliver, examining the bump that seemingly only you and Hotch were worried over, the boy himself having forgotten he even hurt himself in the first place.
“Useless,” you mutter, playfully bumping the man’s shoulder.
“Hey!”
“Hey nothing! When I agreed to having your baby, I thought at least one of us would know how to deal with things.”
He laughs, setting Oliver down to crawl over to some of his toys, “I’m just as lost as you, sweetheart.”
“Maybe it gets easier,” you muse, resting your head against his shoulder as you watch the child.
“It doesn’t.”
The voice startles you, but you smile as you see Jessica walking in with Jack, a smile of her own on her lips.
“Hi baby!”
Jack quickly makes his way over, throwing his arms around both you and has dad, before going over to play with his brother.
“What happened to his head?”
You sigh loudly as the others laugh, “We don’t talk about it.”
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summary: you and Hotch have been married for a few years, sharing a little boy name Oliver together, and having Jack. this time, Hotch surprises the three of you by making it to one of Jack’s soccer games.
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: none
a/n: this is the first part to a mini series! all parts are going to be of CM men w their kids! feel free to send in any ideas, or just lmk how you’re liking it :)
not my gif, but this fic was inspired by me finding it so :)
You weren’t a soccer mom.
You didn’t own an SUV or a mini van. You didn’t carpool. Or go to PTA meetings. Hell, you could barely make box cookies without burning them.
But you did love coming to your son’s soccer games. You’d even go as far to say that you’d practically coach him.
“Come on, Jack! Get on him, play forward!”
“Go Jack!” The smaller boy holding your hand shouted, your own excitement mirrored perfectly in him.
Although younger, Oliver had his fair share of little league games as well. He wasn’t very good, admittedly none of the other three year olds were either, but he always seemed to be having the most fun. He wanted to be like his big brother, and playing the game was close enough.
You felt him pull from you, running in the opposite direction of the field just as Jack ran towards the goal.
“Oliver!”
As you jog after him, you watch him jump into a man’s arms.
Your pace quickens as he spins the boy, recognition clouding you as you join them in their hug.
Your husband grins down at you, “I managed to get out of the office early today, I thought I’d surprise you guys. But you,” he jabs your son playfully, “Can’t run away from mommy like that!”
The look on the small boys face is adorable, his pout making you completely forget your anger towards him in the first place.
“It was really more daddy’s fault.”
As Oliver laughs, you notice the way Hotch mirrors the expression the boy was wearing just seconds earlier. It was like you had hit copy paste.
Setting him down, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before wrapping an arm around your waist, walking back over to the field as Oliver ran ahead of you.
“How’s Jack doing?”
“Amazing! He’s so good, Aaron, it’s unbelievable. He’s scored two goals already, and it’s barely the second half! His kicks have gotten so much better too, he’s not even kicking up grass. It’s obvious he got none of your skill.”
The man ignored your comment with a roll of his eyes, “Okay, coach Y/N. Anything else I should know?”
Allowing him to stand behind you as you watched, you grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your middle, your own arms finding their way over his.
“Shut up and watch our son play.”
His laugh was easy, his lips finding their way to your cheek before quickly resting his head against yours as he watched.
Oliver jumped back and forth in front of you, excitedly pointing things out to you periodically.
By the time the coach called half time, the small boy had sat by your feet, spent from all of his earlier movements.
Jack’s eyes wander over to you, and you notice the way his eyes lit up as he ran over.
“Daddy!”
Aaron’s arms release you almost instantly, leaning down to envelope Jack as he ran into him.
“You came!”
He chuckles, ruffling the boys hair as he pulled away, “Of course, buddy. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Jack!”
The boy rolls his eyes at the call of his name, gesturing vaguely behind him, “Being the star is hard.”
You laughed as he ran back towards the team, Hotch joining you with his own chuckle.
“He gets that from you, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” You beam, nodding, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Mommy?”
Kneeling besides the smaller boy, you smile, “Yeah, baby?”
“Can we get ice cream on the way home?”
Glancing over at Aaron, you watch as he shrugs, sitting behind him and pulling him into his lap as he laughs loudly.
“Only if someone can promise to share with daddy.”
Oliver eagerly nods, “But only if we get banilla.”
