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hotchley · 3 years

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“i’m not a five foot hundred pound girl”

yes i’m using his most iconic quotes as the titles, in my head it was a smart idea

morehotchcontent2020 day one: dad hotch (a lazy day at home with jack)

tagged: @ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety

“don’t give me that look young man, i told you when i bought them that i was going to hide them. you need a break. and i know that you think you can’t take one, but trust me, if you go and do work now, you’re really not going to learn anything.”

jack opened his mouth to protest.

“cheat day,” hotch said with a grin before jack could even formulate an argument.

when upcoming exams cause jack large amounts of stress and sadness, hotch takes it upon himself to make their saturday a little more hopeful and a lot more relaxed

note: I am on season ten, but am aware of certain events in later seasons which may be poorly referenced because i don’t know the actual context, it’s not very relevant to the plot so just go with it it’s fine.

warnings: implied/referenced child abuse

read on ao3!

“You’re up early,” Hotch commented, when Jack entered the kitchen at nine in the morning on a Saturday. He wasn’t trying to be annoying, or make his son feel angry, but he was curious. And a little concerned. He wasn’t an idiot. And just because he’d retired, did not mean he’d forgotten how to profile. Or hear. Jack had been stressed recently. And last night, he’d been pacing his room.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jack said by way of explanation.

Hotch made a non-committal sound. It was one of those moments where he just felt so out of his depth. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, putting his book down.

Jack shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. I mean compared to the things that you must’ve been subjected to as a child, it’s nothing.”

Hotch winced, remembering how he’d wanted to keep certain aspects of his childhood from Jack, which had worked until Jack started high school and wanted to know why there weren’t any photos of him with his family around. Hotch had wanted to lie, but too much had happened and it wasn’t fair of him to do that. Instead, he’d spoken to Jack’s therapist, who said that as long as he kept it appropriate, it would help Jack learn to open up as well.

“Buddy, you know I never want you to feel like that. My childhood was decades ago. If something is bothering you, then it’s bothering you. And you can talk to me about it. But you don’t have to. I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

“I just- it’s the exams. There’s so many of them and there’s so much content and I feel like I don’t any of it and it’s stressing me out because I saw the kind of qualifications you need to get into the FBI and I don’t want to disappoint you but I just feel like I’m going to fail and then everyone will be mad at me because I’m supposed to be smart, and then I won’t be able to do anything in life and I’ll just be a failure,” Jack said, voice cracking on the last words.

“Oh Jack. You could never disappoint me. Ever. I’m your dad. That love isn’t conditional. It never has been and it never will be. All I want is for you to do your best,” Hotch said, setting his mug down and moving closer to his son. He didn’t extend his arms, not yet sure whether or not Jack wanted comfort.

Jack was like his mother: he never learnt to hide his emotions because he never felt he had to. But Aaron was no longer Agent Hotchner, he was Jack’s dad. And that meant no profiling. And whilst he was aware that there was a difference between actively profiling someone and knowing their tells, sometimes the line blurred. He didn’t want it to blur.

“But what if- what if I do my best and it isn’t good enough?” Jack whispered.

Hotch couldn’t take it. He hugged Jack, just about managing to cradle the back of his head. When had he gotten so tall?

“Buddy. Your best when you’re under pressure and in test conditions is never going to be the same as your best when you’re relaxed. But what you do then will be your best in the moment. And that’s enough. I promise,” Hotch soothed.

Jack let out another muffled sob, and the two of them stood there whilst Jack finally let the stress that had been building inside him for weeks now, out. Hotch let his son cry. He needed this. They both did. Jack needed to know he was good enough, and that nothing was going to change that. Hotch needed to know his son still trusted him. Hotch wasn’t an idiot. The anniversary of hard times was coming up.

“I’m sorry for ruining your jumper,” Jack mumbled when he pulled away, wiping at his eyes.

Hotch looked down at it. It was well-worn now, as he had realised that wearing jumpers round the house was so much more comfortable than a button-down, and he no longer had any reason to be parading around in a suit, because all he had to do now was be a dad.

“You haven’t ruined it. You’ve added character,” Hotch joked.

Jack laughed, but it sounded forced.

“I meant what I said,” Hotch said, tone serious.

“I know. I just—I don’t know. Needed to hear that.”

“Do you know what else you need?” Hotch asked.

Jack shook his head. “But I bet you’re about tell me, aren’t you?”

Hotch nodded, walking over to the cupboard full of baking things- yes, he had taken up baking after he retired, and no, he wasn’t proud of himself for googling things to do once you’ve retired from the FBI- and pulling out a packet of chocolate chips.

“Don’t give me that look young man, I told you when I bought them that I was going to hide them. You need a break. And I know that you think you can’t take one, but trust me, if you go and do work now, you’re really not going to learn anything.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest.

“Cheat Day,” Hotch said with a grin before Jack could even formulate an argument.

Every month, Hotch and Jack were entitled to two cheat days each. And on those days, they were exempt from doing any cleaning, cooking, homework, whatever tasks needed doing because they needed a break. All they had to do was remember to take their medication and eat. They also had the power to call one for the other if they deemed it necessary. And sometimes, they would do it together.

Jack rolled his eyes, already feeling a little better now he knew he was getting pancakes. “Fine.”

Hotch smiled. “Why don’t you get out of those jeans and into some pyjamas then?”

Jack ran up the stairs to do just that. In truth, he wasn’t exactly sure why he’d put them on in the first place, but studytubers always said that it was better to study in real clothes so you would actually be productive. That was why he’d woken up early; he could cram more.

When he came back into the kitchen, now dressed in that old worn pair of Captain America pyjamas that still fit him and were the comfiest thing he owned, his dad was already plating up the pancakes. He’d put extra syrup, extra whipped cream and an obscene amount of various candies on the plate he pushed towards Jack.

“We’ll eat, and then we’re going to watch one of those comfort films you love. And then we’re going to do something relaxing, have pizza for lunch because Dave sent me this new recipe, then you’re going to take a bath and have a nap because you clearly need sleep. And then for dinner, I’m thinking mac and cheese. From the box but with the extra cheese, the way you like it,” Aaron said with a grin.

Jack smiled at him, a small lump forming in his throat. Oh.

“Thanks dad,” he whispered, not trusting himself to say any more than that.

After they ate their pancakes- Jack ended up finishing Hotch’s, who had claimed that he finally needed to start listening to the doctor- Jack went to the living room to pick his film, whilst Hotch went upstairs to grab the pillows and duvets from their rooms so they could be as cosy as possible.

It was halfway through Anastasia- they had already watched the original versions of Beauty and the Beast, as well as part of Cinderella before he’d changed his mind- when Jack couldn’t take it any longer. He stopped the film and turned to face his dad.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch asked, eyes bleary as he’d accidentally started napping.

“Dad, I love you. That’s not conditional,” Jack said.

“I know that buddy,” Hotch said.

“And you also know that I was the only senior that got dropped off by their parent this year, right?”

Hotch nodded. “People weren’t rude about that, were they?”

“No. You know why? Because you’re my dad. And I love you. So you don’t need to call a cheat day just because you want to spend time with me. You can just ask. I won’t ever say no,” Jack said.

Hotch rapidly blinked away tears. “I didn’t want to make you feel guilty. And I’m supposed to be your parent. That means not dumping my problems on you.”

Jack laughed. “Dad, we don’t- we’re not normal. We don’t have the same relationships as the other families and that’s fine. I like that. I like that I can just throw a book at your head and you’ll read it to me. And I like that you let me take the bus home from my therapy sessions, no matter how much it hurts you. I don’t like seeing you upset, but I appreciate you being honest and teaching me it’s okay to cry. You’re not dumping your problems on me, I’m asking.”

Hotch pushed Jack’s fringe off his face. “When did you get so wise?”

Jack grinned. “I had some pretty good role models. There was Uncle Spence telling me about constellations, there was Uncle Der telling me about dating, Aunt Em and Uncle Dave who told me what Megan Kane said to you- which was actually pretty funny- and let’s not forget Aunt JJ and Aunt Penny just being cool.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I’m joking. I got wise because I had you. I know you feel like you failed, but you haven’t. I wouldn’t be here if you had. You know that. So spill, old man, before I call Aunt Penny and tell her that you’re going to make mac and cheese from box.”

Hotch’s mouth turned downwards. Jack was right. It was morbid, but George Foyet would have killed Jack if he’d found him. There was no doubt about that. “I just- I want to give you your space, and let you grow up and become an adult, but I’m scared that when that happens, you’re going to leave and not come back because you’ll stop looking at me like a hero and realise I destroyed everything good in your life. I mean, I’m doing that right now. You’re stressed about exams and I’m making it worse by rambling about my own stupidity.”

Jack’s suspicions had been correct. “Dad, I stopped viewing you as a hero when you had to have surgery for your scars and almost died. That was the moment I realised you were mortal. The moment I realised you were flawed was when Aunt Jess started ranting about how you handled a situation the wrong way. I’m not leaving any time soon. But when I do, I’ll always come back, because this apartment is my home.”

“You’re so much like your mother. She always knew how to calm me down,” Hotch said.

“It’s a gift. Now, that’s enough emotion. Can we please finish the film and make the pizza? I’m getting hungry.”

Hotch smiled, that soft smile, reserved only for his son, and pressed play. Jack shifted so his head was resting in his dad’s lap. Almost subconsciously, Hotch started running his hand through it, mimicking the motions of years ago, when they were running late and there wasn’t enough time to brush it properly.

They ended up burning the pizza because Hotch claimed he didn’t need his reading glasses but then set the temperature to 475F instead of 450F. Jack found it funny, and when he went upstairs to wash his hands as Hotch answered the door for take-out, he texted Uncle Dave, and got a serious of words his dad would give him the Hotchner Glare for in response.

As they sat on the carpet, some old romcom Haley and Aaron had loved as teenagers on in the background, Jack was grateful that his dad was who he was. Yes, there were still nights where Jack woke up screaming and there were mornings where Hotch would have dark circles under his eyes, shaky hands and an aversion to touch, but there were also moments like these where they were just a father-son duo, eating slices of pizza and laughing at some stupid joke they were telling.

Jack’s friends were all out shopping, watching movies, going on dates, falling in and out of love in the blink of an eye, and being teenagers. Hotch had worried for so long that he’d taken Jack’s ability to be normal and do things like that away.

It was that evening, when he saw the way Jack’s eyes light up at the sight of the boxed macaroni and cheese, not burnt but with extra cheese, that he realised he hadn’t. It had been Jack’s decision to stay in that weekend.

Because there was nowhere else he would rather be.

#morehotchcontent2020 #aaron hotchner #hotch #day one: dad hotch #dad hotch #fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #jack hotchner #i just love hotch and jack #and look it's not even that sad #i'm not completely happy with the ending #but it's whatever you know

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ladieslovingladiesandfics · 6 years

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I Burn (All Those I Touch)

Anon asked: Can you write a story about Shield rescuing reader from being used any longer as a Hydra weapon because their telekinetic ability and fighting skills. Hydra has had reader since they were a toddler and don't even use her real name just a number. Now that they're free they escape Shield and start hunting/killing all Hydra in a form of revenge am while running from Shield. ( I couldn't fit it all in 500 so (1/2)

The team has to stop her as she’s becoming dangerous and more unstable, then during a blur of bloodlust and insanity from reader Jemma stops them with words and just a hug because they had grown to like each other deeply while reader was in containment (This the rest I couldn’t fit hehe (2/2) HEY AND I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING AN AWESOME DAY NOOT NOOT, I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH

Awww babes thanks! I’m sorry this took so damn long to write! I hope ya like it!

Like I said, I’m gonna change the powers and other things because:

A.) I’m listening to RWBY soundtracks and I had ideas

B.) I read some faerytales, playing some games, and had....ideas....lots of ideas.....

C.) Make it sound less like Stockholm Syndrome and give Reader and Jemmy more moments of sweet stuff ya know?

Warning: Blood, angst, gay shit, Jemmy being Jemmy, death, gore, etc. This is horrible I’m so sorry.

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There was no such thing as a happy ever after for you.

You who had been with HYDRA since you were young, you who was cursed, you who could control the fire like it was art, you who was raised to be a weapon, and you…who was a monster.

But this was fine.

This was fine.

Because Jemma was not here; and she cannot see you and your ugliness.

“Welcome to the team, Y/N.” Coulson smiles, a badge in his hand, outstretched to you.

You blink, staring down at the palm and the badge, shyly taking the piece of metal, shaking his hand as well. You smile a tiny but fond smile. “It’s good to be here, Coulson.”

“See, Y/N, I told you he’d agree to have you on our team!” Jemma brings you into an embrace, the widest smile upon your lips. “I knew you weren’t a bad person, no matter what HYDRA has done to you.”

Your lips tug into an even wider smile, while Daisy and Fitz share a knowing look between them. She was so small, so tiny, a kind girl, she didn’t deserve to be here…or near you. “Thanks Simmons.”

Her smiles becomes brighter, and her hands finds yours, holding them tightly in hers. “As your handler, I promise that we will find a cure for your curse. I promise.”

Oh…oh how wish you it could be true.

The crimson copper dots your fangs, the taste oh so thrilling, you lick your lips, sitting against a wall in a lone alley, eyes closed as you think.

HYDRA deserved to die. They did so many horrible things to you, to your family…

To Jemm- Simmons. Miss Simmons.

You couldn’t forgive them. Not now. Not ever.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You perk up to the sound of the familiar biochemist, a tray in her hands and a kind smile upon her lips. “I brought you breakfast .” A simple but hearty one, with your favorite warm beverage in a steaming mug.

You groan, sitting up in your bed, rubbing your sore head. Ow. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours, you were exhausted during the night. Snoring up a storm, Y/N.” she places the tray on the side table, pulling up a chair to sit by you. “How are you feeling? You seem sore.” She hands you the mug first, and you sip it, letting out a sigh of happiness and relief. “May didn’t rough you up too much did she?”

You blink, staring up at Jemma with doe eyes and shake your head. “Nope. I just hope she’s alright…my…my powers didn’t hurt her, did they?” because you were worried you burnt her.

“What? No! May is just fine.” Jemma answers with a kind smile. “Her burns are healing and they were only minor, she’s up and tossing around with new agents as we speak. We can go visit her if you like.” Oh sweet and oh so kind, you didn’t deserve her. You can’t be here, because you were a monster. A tool. A weapon.

You needed to leave.

But with every smile she gives you, every laugh you two share, every ounce of her heart that she gives you…it becomes harder and harder to leave.

“We’ll find her, Simmons.” Daisy places a hand on Jemma’s shoulder, squeezing it. “We’ll find her, we’ll bring her home.”

The doctor wipes the tears from her eyes, turning to her best friend. “It’s my fault.” She weeps. “If…if I was strong I could have prevented this.” And seeing the bodies, charred and eaten alive…it sickened her. What drove Y/N to do this? How could she have let this happen?! She was your handler! The person who was going to help you find a cure for your affliction, and yet she let this happened!

It all fell upon her.

She should have been more careful.

She should have protected you more.

“Y/N?” Jemma heard muffled screams from your room, rushing over as fast as her legs could carry her, ICER in hand. “Y/N!” she calls out for you again. Without hesitation she opens the door, seeing you clutch your chest in agony, tossing and turning on the bed.

It hurts.

It was like the fires were burning you, your heart, and it may give out.

“Y/N! Y/N! Talk to me!” the pistol falls, and her hands are on your shoulders, trying to stop you from shaking and screaming. “Y/N! I’m right here! Tell me what is wr-“ the tattoo on your bare chest, right over your heart. No! Jemma! This was not the time to be distracted!

A rose, but covered with thorns. Strange, that wasn’t always there. What’s worse….it was glowing.

“Y/N! Stop! I’m right here! I’m here to help you!” Jemma takes your body into an embrace, holding you close against her chest. “I’m here, I’m here, it’s me, Jem-“ she screams the minute her back hits the wall, cold and hot at the same time. She stares up to you, your eyes which told untold agony, and sees your hand against the tattoo, hiding it from her. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, Jemma. I’m so sorry.” You press your lips to hers, fleeting and passionate. You grab your shirt and jacket, and leave.

Jemma slides down the wall, the scent of charred paper and wood tickling her nostrils. She touches her lips in horror, eyes wide. What just happened?

“Y/N!”

No!

Jemma stands in front of you, between you and the exit, ICER in hand, and tears in her eyes. Anger. Relief. All in between. She was glad to see you. A smile upon her tear stained face, she steps closer, and you step back. “I’ve missed you.”

NO!

“Jemma you need to leave!” your hand shoots up to your chest, it burns. The thorns dig into your heart, heating up and searing your body with pain. Flames lick at your skin, and you growl, unearthly, beastly. “Jemma, get out of here!”

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Two steps closer, five steps backwards. “You disappeared on us twice already, just…just please,” her voice was cracking. “Please, come back home.”

You shake your head, and your chest burns. “I can’t…I’m sorry.” And you run, jump, hiding yourself once more.

Jemma cries.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

Her screams, Jemma’s screams, they cause your heart to scald and scorch even harder than before. You watch her blood drip down on to the floor, the HYDRA agent (your former handler, what the fuck was his name?) with a knife in hand, smirking. He was having the time of his life torturing her. The woman you cared for. Your current handler.

“I swear to you now I will kill you! I will fucking kill you, you crazy asshole!” you struggle against your binds, as the man laughs, digging a knife deeper into Jemma’s skin. Screams ring in your ears and you growl. “STOP!”

Chains crack, a section of the wall rips apart and you leap upon the man like an animal. Your fangs dig into his neck, blood surging out of the wound and you tear off his skin like it was wrapping paper on a present. No one, hurts Jemma.

No one.

“Y/N?” Frightened, tired, scared. You heard all of those emotions from her.

You glance up at her, tears in her eyes, fear accenting them. You spit out the piece of flesh and with the gentlest of hands, you rip Jemma’s cuffs apart. “Good bye.” And run.

“Jemma get down!” A beast was sent flying into the wall, crashing through cement as Elena runs by, grabbing the scientist and bringing her to safety.

Half eaten corpses lay on the ground, all from the beast itself.

It was big, bigger than all of the women combined. It stood tall like a man, but switched to a four-gaited dash. Eyes blood red, a lioness but with flames licking her maw and jaw and claws. A monster.

“What did it do to Y/N?” whispers Daisy, gearing up for another vibrational blast.

“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here, it’s not safe.” The Colombian says, protecting the biochemist with her own body.

A glint of silver, a pair of wide brown eyes, and Jemma chokes out with a sob, “Y/N?”

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Jemma holds out a present to you, which you stare down at, like it was a bomb or something. “What? You don’t like it? How can you tell without opening it?”

“…Is this for me?” You point at yourself in confusion, cocking your head to the side. “No it’s for Daisy.” Sarcastically remarks the woman. “Of course it’s for you, I mean I’m giving it to you and it has your name on it.” Sure enough, the tag had your name on it.

To: Y/N

From: Jemma

You cautiously take the present from her, gingerly untying the ribbon and stare down at the small black box. Opening it you see a necklace, a small and simple silver chain with a locket on it. You open it and gasp, tears filling your eyes.

Your parents. The parents that were killed by the witch who cursed you at birth. The parents you never got to see again.

There were here, and that was their photo.

“Where? How? When?!” you hug the scientist before she gets a word out, and she laughs, hugging her back.

“I had Daisy help me find your family. We got a photo and I bought the necklace.” She answers, holding you tighter against her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Jemma. Thank you so much.” You cry into her shoulder, staining the fabric.

“Anything for you, Y/N. Anything for you.” She lets you go, smiling. “Now come on! We have a party to attend!”

“How the hell do you know it’s Y/N?” demands Elena. “It’s a giant lion thing on fire and it’s eating

people!”

“The necklace, I gave it to her.” Answers the scientist, hanging her ICER over to the speedy Inhuman, walking forward with bare hands. The Inhumans prepare themselves to get her out of there.

“Y/N. It’s you isn’t it?” she asks, holding out her hands to you. The closer she comes, the hotter it grows, and she feels sweat beading down her forehead. It was hot to touch the air, her skin was boiling. It was beyond painful.

But she would travel through hell just for you.

The beast growls, flame-covered tail flickering with anger. Gentle hands touch the cheeks of the now paralyzed beast, like it knew her. It hurts. The skin burns her, and Jemma? She only smiles through the pain. “Let’s go home, Y/N. I’m not afraid of you.” Her clothes become singed as she embraces you, tears evaporating the minute they appear. “I love you, Y/N. I accept you, and I will always be beside you.”

The heat dies, and a woman stands there, eyes wide and tears falling, mouth stained with blood…but there she was.

Y/N.

Jemma smiles, kissing your cheeks. “I’d kiss you on your lips but you have blood in them.”

You only laugh and cry at the same time, shaking your head. “I’ll brush my teeth extra this time…I promise.” You hug back, burying your face into her shoulder.

“Let’s go home, Y/N.”

“Okay…Jemma.”

#jemma simmons #jemma simmons imagine #jemma simmons x reader #jemma x reader

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