Short stories (Hotch x fem!reader) // ✔

1. More

Summary:

On the way back from a case, a phone call with your father leaves you angry, broken and sad. What you don't expect is Hotch, your boss and the man you've been harboring feelings for to be there for you with words and acts of comfort.
(fluffy fic request from tumblr)

Notes:

hey all this was a fic req from tumblr that got out of my hands and became longer than it should have been lmao

"i was wondering if you could do a hotch x fem!reader where there's a somewhat of an age gap, the reader gets into a fight with her father and he tells her he's disappointed in her you know the whole daddy issues package. she then turns to hotch where he comforts her and tells her something along the lines of "you are so much more than your father's opinion of you"

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In all fairness it didn't take too much for your day to be ruined.

Your sour mood isn't due to the grueling case that catapults you early morning in the middle of Wilmington, North Carolina. A case caught in time by the responsible police department where two girls had disappeared within weeks from each other. Nor is it because of the police officers at the scene, debating your in volvement. Too many judgmental looks, doubts at any decision you made, and whatever information you provided. It surely isn't because Derek Morgan, your colleague of many years now, and resident jokester, had brought back your failed date from last night in a room with your boss in it. And, for the first time since you'd come to the realization more than a month ago – you're not in a bad mood because of said boss and how he'd never be able to reciprocate your feelings for him.

No, unfortunately for you, none of those factors come at play to make you succumb into a familiar sadness that has been stitched into your soul before you became an independent adult woman. In all fairness , you could have prevented today's bad mood by not answering the phone when it dials as soon as you land back in Washington DC. Spencer sitting before you, equally perturbed by your ringtone as you are, casts you a weary look seeing the contact: your father.

"It'll be fine" you mumble. Unsure whether the words are for him or yourself, you take a few seconds to calm down and ready emotionally. "It'll be fine"

With that motto running on repeat in your head you pick up the phone, putting it to your ear. "Hey" you reply, your own voice deafened by that of your father.

"Hello? Are you okay? I've called a few times"

The fake smile on your face fades away at the worry in his tone.

"I wasn't in the city, dad. We got called for a case outside and I had to mute my phone. I've told you to text me if something comes up. Is everyone okay? Did something happen?"

You do your best to keep your voice low, aware there's no resemblance of privacy in the small jet of the BAU. That, doubled with the fact you're working with profilers, hardly lets you keep secrets.

"There was a case?"

"North Carolina", you reply, frustration building up inside your stomach. What does it say that you're overly familiar with interrogations but have no patience for one done to you? Not even from your parents. "It didn't take long, I'm back--"

"They made you fly back right away? Couldn't they have afforded a hotel room at the very least? It's almost midnight"

"Yes", you curl your hand into a fist. Clenching and unclenching it before deciding to reach for the phone and make sure the volume is all the way down, and then gathering whatever fight is left in you to reply calmly, "I work with people who have families".