Flustered!reader !!!! Her and Hotch are freshly dating and he’s just so doting and in love and obsessed with her and she’s just :,) not used to all of his attention and is so blush-y :,) and the team just cannot believe this is the same unit chief who chews them out
lovestruck
aww 🥰 cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, bau banter and fluff <3
"Aren't they amazing? And they were on sale."
"Seriously?" You glanced down, catching another look of Emily's new - and insanely cute - heeled boots. "No way."
"Got two pairs for almost the price of one." Emily smirked, looking rather pleased with herself. "Made Penelope really proud with that one when I told her."
Spencer, blissfully unaware of the girl talk around him, quietly turned another page in his book.
Emily's eyes suddenly shifted, looking past you. "Hey."
What caught her attention was Aaron entering the bullpen, balancing two coffees as he walked in. He was arriving later than usual, an early meeting on the other side of town keeping him. His eyes immediately went to the collection of desks, finding the team. Finding you.
Your heart picked up.
"Quick. Pretend to look busy."
"As long as you stay productive, you can talk amongst yourselves." Aaron told Prentiss once he approached, his lips briefly tugging upwards as he placed one of the to-go cups on your desk. His discrete amusement made your heart flutter, you found it utterly endearing. "They were out of almond, so I got you oat milk. I hope that's alright."
"It's perfect," you smiled softly up at him, warmth rushing to your cheeks. "Thank you."
He gave you a smile, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a doting squeeze. "Are we still on for tonight? Jessica should be picking Jack up around seven or so. The movie starts at eight, so I can be at yours soon after. Hopefully traffic has died down by then."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Popcorn's on me."
"Can't wait." A gentle flicker was present in his eyes, different from his usual office-stern visage, igniting more nervous yet welcomed butterflies in your stomach. A slight tip of his head, addressing everyone. "Now, back to work."
"Look at you two." Emily stated once Aaron retreated, disappearing up into his office. Clearly she was in no rush to be productive just yet.
"Who?" Ignoring the urge to fan your face, still flushed, your hand vaguely gestured in the direction of Aaron. "Us?"
She gave you a look, one that read: who else? "He's whipped. You're whipped. If it weren't for the undeniably real stack of files gracing my desk, I'd think I was dreaming."
"You better get on those too." Reid chimed in, chin on his knuckles as his novel re-engrossed him.
You shrugged shyly, trying to keep your smile small. You wouldn't deny her observation, picking up your coffee and taking a sip. It was prepared just how you liked it, hints of vanilla and cinnamon dancing on your tongue; Aaron had your order down perfectly. "He's sweet."
Emily's face twisted in a mix of disgust and amusement. Her head craned back as Derek joined you, her chair squeaking as it shifted. "What's a word to describe Hotch?"
"Is this a trick question? Who are you working for?"
Emily snorted lightly, looking at you as she spoke. "Would you say he's sweet?"
"Me? I don't have a crush on Hotch." Derek defended, before flashing you his signature grin. "Though, it is nice that he's not on our asses as much. And we have you to thank for that, pretty girl."
Your blushed more, taking another drink of coffee and allowing it to scorch your tongue, doing nothing to calm your growing fluster. "I don't think there's been too much of a difference. Aar- Hotch is the same as he was before."
You were being modest, in slight disbelief yourself you had somehow made a noticeable impact on his everyday life. In such a short amount of time, too.
From the moment you met him, you wanted him to be happy; a simple, quiet goal - to bring a smile to his face each day. Not just because you were drawn to him, but because, deep down, you sensed he truly needed it.
And miraculously to you, you had become the reason for that smile.
"Mhm," Derek playfully replied, keyed in on every ounce of adoration written openly across your face. Your gaze shot to the right, hoping to catch a quick glimpse of Aaron through his window. "You keep thinking that."
visual is for vibes only, reader’s appearance is nondescript!
pairing: spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
summary: during your maternity leave, you pay a surprise visit to the team
warnings: brief mentions of new-parent anxieties and hypothetical death, daughter’s name is natalie
word count: 1.8k
a/n: this ended up being a little more hotch-centric than i wanted it to be, but enjoy girl dad spencer anyways!
You’d had your baby.
Ten weeks of sleepless nights, soft lullabies and a love deeper than anything you’d ever known. You couldn’t be happier.
Spencer had insisted on taking his full paternity leave, determined to spend every moment that he could with the baby. He wanted to be there for every sound and move she made.
Returning to the BAU hadn’t been as seamless for him as he’d hoped. He’d always been able to compartmentalise, but now, every child-related case hit a little too close to home. Every missing kid made him picture Natalie’s face. Every grieving parent reminded him of how much he had to lose.
He was constantly on edge now, always thinking ten steps ahead and not just for the case, but to protect the life he’d built with you.
Natalie Anne Reid.
Anne had been his choice - after Lucy Maude Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’.
He wanted his daughter to grow up to be brave and curious and kind. Assertive. Imaginative. Intelligent, like her father. He wanted the world for his Natalie.
He’d been back at work for just two weeks when the team’s curiosity hit his breaking point. No number of pictures or phone calls was satisfying their hunger for time with you both.
Which led to this morning, when you’d bundled up your daughter and accompanied Spencer to the BAU for the first time since she was born.
“Knock, knock,” you called with a smile as you stepped through the double doors of the BAU, cradling a swaddled Natalie to your chest and Spencer trailing behind you.
Morgan and Prentiss’s heads snapped up from their desks in perfect unison at the sound of your voice.
Morgan’s eyes locked onto the bundle in your arms, and a grin spread across his face, “Is this her?”
“This is her,” you replied fondly, adjusting your baby girl so he could see her tiny face peeking out, already grinning up at her new admirers.
Morgan’s smile grew even wider, “Garcia!”
The squeak of Penelope’s swivel chair echoed from across the bullpen, and you saw her duck her head out of her office, “Yes, angel, baby, love of my life?”
“Baby’s here.” he smiled softly.
“Oh my God!” she squealed, launching from her chair as soon as her eyes landed on you and the newest addition to your family.
A chorus of coos erupted around you as Garcia rushed over, eyes already shining with tears as she looked down at Natalie.
“She’s perfect,” she whispered, hands clasped over her heart, “I mean, I knew she would be, but look at her little face! She’s an angel.”
You laughed softly, feeling Spencer step just a little closer behind you, his hand brushing against the small of your back in quiet support.
He’d gotten ridiculously protective since you’d given birth and was hardly even letting you walk to the kitchen for a glass of water without hovering nearby, just in case.
Normally, you loved the attention. But this wasn’t pampering. This was anxiety. Deep-rooted and persistent.
You’d always been the one driving yourself mad when it came to your health, but lately, it felt like the two of you had switched places.
You were calm. Logical, even.
And Spencer? He’d practically wrapped your entire apartment, including Natalie, in metaphorical bubble wrap and literal baby-proofers.
No one had even gotten close enough to try kissing your baby. And at ten weeks, she was more than safe to be around people. But Spencer had all but nailed a ‘No Entry’ sign to her vicinity.
“She’s adorable,” Spencer affirmed, a little breathless as he watched Garcia ogle Natalie. His fingers twitched at his side, the instinct to hover almost overpowering.
You reached for his hand without looking, and he laced his fingers with yours automatically, grounding himself in the warmth of your touch.
Garcia swayed on the balls of her feet,, her eyes locked onto your daughter like she was the eighth wonder of the world.
She gasped suddenly, eyes wide, “She smiled at me!”
“Did you see that? I think she smiled!” she looked between you and Spencer excitedly.
“She’s been doing that more lately,” Spencer said, a proud smile blooming on his face.
“It’s not actually reflexive anymore. At about six to twelve weeks, social smiling becomes more intentional. Natalie’s ahead of schedule, of course.”
You gave him a knowing look, smiling amusedly, “Of course.”
He didn’t notice your teasing, too wrapped up in watching his daughter as he continued his ramble.
“She recognises voices now, too,” Spencer added, his voice excited, “She knows Garcia’s. And Y/N’s. And mine.”
Desperate to see her excel, he’d gone as far as to record himself reading several storybooks, ones Natalie couldn’t yet understand, just so she could hear his voice at night.
He blinked hard, clearing his throat. He still couldn’t believe she was real, “Especially mine.”
At that, you squeezed his hand. You knew he’d been reading every book, journal and case study on infant development since the day you found out you were pregnant.
But none of them had prepared him for what it would actually feel like to have his girl in his arms, and his life.
Down the hallway, blissfully unaware of all the hullabaloo, in the break room, was Hotch, pouring himself a, not un-rare, second cup of coffee.
He’d been up since before sunrise, working through the latest case files and trying not to think about how quiet the office felt with Reid still only half-present and you completely absent.
An excitable laughter interrupted his train of thought.
He paused halfway through stirring his coffee, frowning slightly at the sound. It wasn’t often the bullpen erupted like that, especially not this early in the morning.
Mug in hand, he stepped out, expecting maybe a surprise birthday or some inappropriate joke from Morgan. But when he turned the corner, he stopped short.
There you were, baby in your arms and swarmed by the rest of the team, who could barely contain their excitement.
His footsteps slowed.
“You brought her in,” he said, eyes slightly wide at the sight of you, back at the BAU so soon.
“Just for today,” you nodded, “Didn’t think it was fair for her to go any longer without meeting the team.”
Hotch stepped closer.
Whilst Reid moved to the side of you both with the others, to give you some space, he stayed nearby, eyes never quite leaving you. You felt him ease up a bit when Hotch’s gaze settled on Natalie.
“She’s beautiful,” Hotch said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you replied, swallowing around the unexpected lump in your throat.
You shifted Natalie again, more to centre yourself than anything. Her little hand peeked out of the blanket, curling softly against your chest.
“Hotch,” you said, carefully. His eyes met yours, sharpening almost immediately.
“There’s something I wanted to ask.”
Hotch paused, setting his still-steaming mug on the nearest desk, “Of course,” he nodded, folding his arms across his chest.
“We’ve… I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” you began, glancing back at Spencer briefly. “You know, our jobs are so high-risk, and we wanted to know there’d be someone there for her, if, God forbid, something ever happened to us.”
You took a steadying breath to stop yourself from rambling.
“Hotch, I want you to be Natalie’s godfather.”
At your words, a mix of emotions flickered across Hotch's face. Surprise, honour, and a pain that he was trying very hard to hide. You saw right through him.
His eyes remain fixed on the baby in your arms, and a moment passed, in which the weight of your request settled.
“Are you sure?" he asked gently, like he was scared you would take back the offer if his voice held too much grit.
You nodded, blinking back tears, “You’ve taken care of me all these years in the field . Made me feel so and safe loved here… Hotch, there’s no one I’d trust more.”
Hotch looked up at you, his usually unreadable face softening. Your words seem to hit a nerve in him and, for a moment, he struggled to speak.
“I...I'd be honoured to.” he finally managed, voice uneasy.
Stuttering.
SSA Aaron Hotchner. Your boss. Your mentor. The man who had never been seen blinking in front of the team was tearing up over your daughter.
Your heart nearly burst.
Hotch looked down at Natalie again. His knuckles gently brushed against her cheek. She mewled, smacking her lips in her sleep.
You noticed the way his gaze lingered on her in a sort of dumbstruck awe, softer than it had ever been, “Would you… would you like to hold her, Hotch?”
He looked up, caught off guard, but the answer was written all over his face.
“I would,” he said, with a small, genuine smile. He was already smitten with your girl.
You didn’t even have to say anything. Hotch took Natalie into his arms with a natural ease. He supported her tiny head, one large hand nearly enveloping her entirely. She let out a soft huff, cuddling closer to his chest.
“Thank you,” you whispered, as you wrapped your arms around him, tears slipping down your cheeks now.
He held you there for a moment, Natalie still in the crook of his arm. He seemed to hesitate briefly, almost like he was scared you’d disappear, and Natalie along with you.
“You don't need to thank me," Hotch said, holding you a little tighter as his voice choked up.
“I do. Not just for this.” you said quietly, letting your head rest against his shoulder.
Your words weighed a ton.
He swallowed hard, his free arm tightening around you further, until you were sure he’d snap you in two. He was shielding you, handling you with just as much care as he would your daughter.
Hotch knew the struggle you’d been through to get here. The battles you’d fought in your own mind. The fear of things never changing. Now, you were glowing.
He couldn’t help but feel proud of you.
His eyes drifted to Reid across the room, your now husband, animatedly telling the others how Natalie had grabbed his finger for the first time. How, not to brag, but she’d done it earlier than 78% of babies in her age bracket.
Hotch smiled. The two of you truly were perfect parents.
He took a quiet moment to gather himself, then said, with more love in his voice than you’d ever heard:
“I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
It was then that the rest of the team came bundling over again.
You quickly wiped your eyes, just as Garcia dramatically announced that she was going to die if she didn’t have Natalie in her arms in the next two seconds.
Hotch let out the smallest chuckle, carefully transferring Natalie to her next set of loving arms.
And, in that moment, you couldn’t be more grateful for the honorary family that you’d found in the BAU.
I saw this TikTok and it's so cute! Can you write smt like this with military!rafe, I just feel like this would happen with them lol.
(for the sake of this blurb, the twins’ names are callum && emerson)
rafe’s packing his things for deployment, shirts and rations piled onto the living room floor while one of your twin boys sit on the couch watching tv. you’re in the kitchen, brows furrowing before you yell, “cal, come here baby!”
momentarily looking up from his task, he notices the little boy still sitting on the couch, before he says to him, “callum, your momma’s callin’ you, don’t ignore her.”
he doesn’t budge.
rafe doesn’t even notice the other boy beginning to clamber down and make his way over to the kitchen while he discards his bag. “callum?” he asks confused, pointing to emerson who’s still sitting on the couch, tilting his head at his dad before shaking his head.
“no?” rafe repeats, eyes flicking over to the toddler waddling over to the kitchen. moving around the couch, rafe catches up to the little legs, picking him up in his arms before questioning, “are you callum or emerson?”
you lift your eyes from where you’re cooking, shaking your head at the exchange but keeping quiet, letting rafe figure it out on his own.
“i callum,” the toddler babbles, and you’re grateful that they’re too young to have developed the trick of pretending to be the other twin.
“jesus, you’re callum,” he mutters, settling the boy on the kitchen counter for you to talk to him as you first wanted to.
“mixing up our kids rafe?” you chuckle, focusing your attention onto callum who’s trying to grab the potatoes you just cut, prying it gently out of his hands.
“no, dunno where you got that from,” he grumbles, not accepting his mistake in his usual stubborn fashion. walking back to the couch, the look he gives emerson, a slight cock of his head and narrow eyes as if to make sure it’s really him, doesn’t quite go over your head. you’ve seen it too often - rafe always mixes up your kids.
“That comfy babygirl? M’kay. Your mamas gonna be back with some food soon and we’re gonna have a picnic..” he settled on a blanket behind your year and a half year old daughter as she busied herself fisting at grass chunks of the soft Naboo flower fields.
It was the late afternoon in lake country, the gentle aroma of wildflowers bursting in the wind and infiltrating the senses of your young daughter. The sun was less harsh, beating rays now only whispering over the pinky horizon. Anakin gently carded his real hand through the soft curls of your daughter’s hair while she giggled and babbled at nothing in particular.
“Babwa! Rahhh vwwa!” Anakin chuckled as her chunky arms flailed in telling - what he can only presume - was the greatest re-telling her little mind had ever cooked up. “Uh huh. And how did that make you feel?” Anakin nodded along to her nonsense. Ever since she had found the ability to produce sound, he’d been obsessed with her every noise, listening intently to words he didn’t understand, having conversations that went nowhere.
Even losing arguments he wasn’t aware he instigated.
Turning her attention away from the plush meadow, her big eyes locked on her most favorite thing in the galaxy, his durasteel hand. “Dada! Bawpa? Nana!” She squealed in delight as her fat fingers tried to take off the heavy leather glove. Above all toys you’d been prepared to get when she was born, Anakins hand was the only toy on or off the list she truly cared about. Like mother like daughter.
“Sweetheart we’ve been over this. Daddy needs this. It’s not a teether. Would you like your binki?” Anakin takes her hands off his glove and reaches for the small bag you’d packed. Before he could look away, her eyes got glossy and her lip quivered like she’d been betrayed to the worst extent. “Da.. da.?” Her tiny voice cooed.
Anakin was a soft man at heart. Your daughter (who had oh so conveniently inherited your eyes) knew how to tug at his soul better than anyone, and she knew it too. He was weak for her teary wants. “Okay sweetpea. How about my glove? No hand but glove?” He offers while unclasping the buttons, and immediately the tears vanish “Dadaa!”
“She plays you like a fiddle and you fall for it every time.” You giggle as you come up to your husband and daughter with all the proper picnic accoutrements.
Anakin beams as you approach, no longer paying attention to how your daughter is, in fact, gnawing on his cybernetic finger. “What can I say? She’s my favorite little lady in the universe. You both are..” he mumbles as he leans in for a kiss.
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