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section-chief-prentiss · 3 months

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Maternity Leave (part 5/?)

Summary: The BAU meets your newborn.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1763

TWs: fluff, comfort, newborn life

Ao3

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

You and Emily agreed to wait to have any visitors until Amelia was a month old.

You were recovering from surgery, and the birth in general, and you and Emily were still adjusting to being new parents. You wanted alone time with your daughter, to keep your world small, before letting anyone else in.

Neither you nor Emily were particularly close with your biological families, so that hadn’t posed an issue. The main source of pressure came from Emily’s actual family—the BAU.

To no one’s surprise, Penelope led the charge. When Emily hard-launched the announcement of your daughter’s arrival, by sending a picture of Amelia in the BAU group chat, both of your phones exploded with calls from the team.

You’d FaceTimed with your found family—a family you’d been brought into once you’d met Emily. Even though you didn’t work at the FBI with the rest of them, you’d become an honorary member and were quickly indoctrinated into ladies’ nights with JJ, Emily, and Penelope.

During the call, Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Morgan, Penelope, and Spencer fought to look at Penelope’s phone as Emily fixed the camera on you, holding your daughter.

“Congratulations!” Spencer said.

“SHE’S ADORABLE,” Penelope cooed.

“She is perfect,” JJ agreed.

“How are you two feeling?” Hotch asked.

You’d both agreed you were exhausted but had never been happier. Penelope immediately asked when they could meet her, and you watched the team’s faces fall when Emily told them it would be a few weeks.

JJ, as the other mother in the group, was the most understanding, and eventually, the others followed her lead.

When Emily ended the call, you deflated. “Are we being too harsh? Should we just invite them over?”

Emily frowned. “This is our family, and if we want to wait to have visitors, then we’ll wait. They will understand.”

“But Penelope—” you protested.

Emily held up a hand. “Let me deal with Penelope.”

You sighed but ultimately agreed.

Just after Amelia turned one month old, when you’d officially been home with her for a full month, you woke up to a text from Penelope.

Up for some visitors tonight? She’d asked with about a dozen emojis.

You giggled and handed the phone to Emily, who squinted to read the message.

Emily set the phone on the nightstand and rolled over to wrap her arms around you, and you sunk into her embrace.

“What do you think, love?” She whispered in your ear. “If you want more time, say the word, and I’ll handle it.”

Surprising even yourself, you were shaking your head before she was done speaking. You’d realized a few days prior that you missed your friends, and you yearned for adult conversations with someone other than your wife.

“I would like to see them,” you said.

Emily kissed your cheek. “I’ll invite them for dinner tonight.”

You melted against your wife, sleep threatening to claim you, when a wail erupted from the bassinet across the room.

“It’s okay,” Emily said, pulling away. “You go back to sleep.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Before she could pick up your daughter and leave the room, you were gone.

***

At exactly 5 PM, the doorbell rang.

Normally, you preferred a late dinner, but with the team wanting to meet Amelia before she went to bed, you had to push things forward a few hours before she got too tired.

“Why do I feel nervous?” You rubbed your hands on your apron, which covered a floral sundress. You were battling some insecurities about your body, but the dress was comfortable and flattering, and for the first time in a while, you felt confident.

Emily was wearing a white button-down and black slacks with red lipstick that was driving you wild.

But you needed to focus.

Emily squeezed your hand. “We’ve been so isolated; it’s normal to feel a little anxious. But it’ll be great, you’ll see. And if it’s not, I’ll kick them out.”

The doorbell rang again, and Emily swore. “I’ll let them in; you take a moment.”

You did just that, finishing setting the dining room table as a chorus of voices echoed into your living room. Your heart rate accelerated, but you took a moment to pause, take a few deep breaths, and finish putting the table together before hanging your apron in the kitchen and joining the rest of the party.

“There she is!” Rossi cheered.

“How are you feeling, mama?” Morgan asked, wrapping an arm around you.

You blushed. “I can honestly say I’m doing great.”

“There’s nothing like it, is there?” JJ asked, wrapping her arms around you next.

“She’s incredible,” you agreed.

“It’s so good to see you,” Penelope gushed. “I come bearing presents!”

Sure enough, she held up a large, light pink gift bag that you suspected was filled to the brim.

“I brought wine,” Rossi offered.

“And I have sparkling grape juice,” JJ said.

You winked at her. “Thank you.”

“I have to say,” Hotch stepped forward. “For this being a house with a newborn, you’d never know it. When Haley and I had Jack, our place was a disaster for… well, it still is.”

You giggled. “If left to my own devices, believe me, it would be. But this one,” you pointed to your wife, who was taking the drinks to the table. “Has been my hero with staying on top of housework.”

“Really, Emily?” Morgan teased. “You? Cleaning?”

“Shut up, Derek,” Emily said, rolling her eyes, but there was a grin on her face that undermined the action.

“Have a seat,” you said, gesturing to the sectional. “I’ll go get the guest of honor.”

The room exploded into excited chatter as you slipped into your bedroom to gather Amelia from her bassinet.

“Fair warning, Amelia: They’re loud,” you whispered. “But they’re the best people I know.”

You kissed her forehead and smoothed out the floral onesie you’d dressed her in, which almost matched the dress you had on, before heading back out to meet your friends.

A hush fell over the room when you walked in, and all eyes were on you. You flushed from the attention and directed yours to the cooing baby in your arms.

“This,” you said, shifting her in your arms so everyone could catch a glimpse. “Is Amelia.”

You expected everyone to rush toward you to get a better look, but to your surprise, they remained seated. You glanced over to your wife, who was grinning, and knew she was behind their good behavior.

You walked her to each of your friends, introducing them individually. The last person in line was Penelope, who was practically bouncing in her seat.

You grinned at your friend. “Would you like to hold her?”

It was like you told her Christmas came early—her face lit up. “Are you sure?”

You nodded and gently handed her over to your friend. Though you knew Penelope was seasoned with babies at this point, you still felt nervous having her in the arms of someone who wasn’t yourself or Emily.

“She’s so small,” Penelope whispered.

“You know, by the time babies are one month old, they can see and focus on objects that are less than a foot away and sleep 14 to 17 hours per 24-hour period,” Spencer recited.

“She does love to sleep,” you agreed.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Hotch teased.

You groaned. “Oh, we are.”

Each team member took turns holding Amelia, who was starting to get fussy by the time she reached Emily.

“Babe, she’s hungry,” Emily said, rocking her gently.

“I’ll feed her; dinner should be almost ready, if you could check on it?”

Emily nodded, handing your daughter back to you. You made your way back into your bedroom, closing the door behind you, to feed your baby in peace.

A few minutes later, Emily crept in and made her way to where you sat, in the rocking chair in the corner.

“Dinner’s ready, but everyone’s willing to wait,” your wife said. “No one’s in a hurry.”

“No, they should eat while it’s hot. I don’t want the pressure of everyone waiting for me; I should be able to join you all in 20 or so.”

“Are you sure, love?”

You nodded. “I love them, but I think Amelia and I both need a moment alone anyway. Go, talk to our friends; I’ll join you in a bit.”

Emily brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” she said, heading back toward the door.

“I love you even m—”

“Can’t hear you! Already gone!” She called, rushing out of the room and closing the door behind her.

“Your momma’s a competitive woman,” you told your daughter with a giggle.

When Amelia was fed and burped, she could barely keep her eyes open. You kept rocking her, singing softly, until she was sleeping soundly. Carefully, you walked her to her bassinet, grabbed the baby monitor from the nightstand, and slipped back out of the room to rejoin your friends.

On the other side of the door, the dining room was bustling with laughter.

“I’ve never heard Spencer’s voice so high-pitched,” Derek was saying. “As soon as that elevator stopped moving, it was like it went up a full octave.”

“You weren’t exactly calm in there, either!” Spencer protested.

“This argument again?” you teased, taking the empty seat next to your wife. You kissed the top of her head before you sat, and Emily took your hand once you were settled.

“Every time,” JJ said, polishing off her glass of wine.

“How’s the baby?” Emily asked.

“Sleeping,” you shrugged. “Sorry her appearance was so limited,” you said to the rest of the room.

“Oh, please,” Rossi said, waving his hand.

“We were excited to meet her, but it’s you both we really wanted to see,” Penelope said.

You raised an eyebrow at your friend. That wasn’t what you expected to hear.

“She’s right,” Spencer said. “We’ve missed you guys. Everything’s changing so fast.”

You softened at that. “It won’t be like this forever. Hotch and JJ figured it out, and we will too. And you guys are welcome to come over anytime.”

“As long as you call first,” Emily jumped in. “So you don’t wake the baby.”

You smiled. “What she said.”

“To Amelia,” Rossi said, raising his glass. “The newest member of our family.”

The rest of the table raised their glasses, and you poured some sparkling grape juice into yours before doing the same.

“To Amelia,” the room echoed, clinking glasses.

Tag List:

@yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom, @tireddeadgirl, @lez-talk1, @emilyprentiss-ily

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#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss x reader #comfort #penelope garcia #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #david rossi

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thedancingcostumeyoungadult · 2 years

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A Season for Lovers (part 2)- S.R

Doctor Spencer Reid returns after two years away, joining the social season with eyes only for one young lady.

Part 1 here, part 3 here, part 4 here

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: eventual smut but not in this part, mutual pining, brothers best friend trope, some misogynistic treatment of reader

Word count: ~3500

“The Brechtman ball?” Amelia’s face pops into view through the hanging rolls of fabric, making a face at the shade of pink fabric you held up. “Don’t wear feathers, everyone wears feathers to the Brechtman’s.” Rolling your eyes back at her, you abandon the pink, moving down to a rack of blue silks.

“I read the society pages too, you know.” A bolt of fabric catches your eye, a fine dove-white cotton dotted with delicate purple flowers stitched in silk and it’s exactly what you had been looking for. “Oh! This one!” You scoop the fabric up excitedly, hugging it to your chest as you hurry to your mother. The modiste standing with her smiles as you approach.

“I thought of you when that first arrived, Miss L/n. A new gown for the Brechtmans, yes?” You look at your mother, who nods with a smile.

“Yes, that’s lovely, dear. You could wear it with your pearl earrings and that lovely purple silk ribbon.” You’re mid nod when you feel a tug on your elbow, turning in surprise to see Amelia as she drags you to the front of the shop.

“You must see who's outside, come look!” She pulls you to the window, pointing across the street excitedly. “That’s your handsome doctor, isn’t it?” You feel your heart take a stutter step in your chest as you look and see that it is indeed Spencer. He looks so handsome you almost swoon, wearing a fine gray suit and a far more serious expression than normal as he speaks to the man standing next to him. A smile comes across your face unbidden even as you furrow your brows in confusion at his presence.

“I didn’t know he was back in town.” You say as your mother leans over your shoulder, having come to see what the fuss was about.

“Well isn’t he a dashing young man? A suitor of yours?” The modiste speaks this time, her words making you blush furiously, a problem made even worse when your mother speaks before you do.

“The only one she cares about.” You turn to her indignantly.

“Mama!” She raises her hands placatingly, backing away as you steal one more look across the street, just in time to see him turn and enter the building behind him. Slightly dejected at the loss of your eye candy, you return to your initial mission of silks and ribbons.

Leaving the modiste nearly an hour later, you didn’t even glance across the street because you were sure that Spencer had long gone on his way. The heat of the day had eased and the still air carried a hint of rain as you helped put the last of the parcels in the carriage. A commotion across the street catches your attention and you look over, stepping around the carriage to get a better view.

A view of Spencer practically dragging a disheveled looking man from the building by his elbow. They make it only a few steps before the man lunges away, but is quickly spun and slammed against the wall by Spencer. Something about the sight made your stomach drop in a not entirely unpleasant way. Something about the intense expression on his face, or the quick finality of his show of strength, or the disregard with which he passed the man off to a police officer that had appeared. You’d never seen him be anything but amicable and good natured, but seeing him like this, forceful and commanding, well you certainly weren’t complaining.

However, what you like even more is when he sees you, the intensity of his look fading into a gentle smile. With a few words to his companions, he’s striding towards you and you feel like your feet are rooted to the spot.

“Miss Y/N.” He says quietly as he stops just before you, suddenly looking so adorably shy.

“Doctor Reid.” Your voice comes out low and almost breathless, which in turn makes you blush even deeper than you had already been. His eyes dart nervously around your face.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that.” He speaks gently, first to you, then he gives your mother a respectful nod over your shoulder. “I hope the commotion didn’t disturb your afternoon too much.”

“Not at all, Doctor.” Your mother speaks. “Is everything all right?” Spencer nods as his companion, a tall, dark-haired man with a serious but handsome countenance appears at his shoulder.

“I’m very sorry ladies, Reid, we have to go.” Then he was gone again, leaving Spencer to clear his throat and tip his hat hurriedly to you.

“Of course, my apologies, I’ll let you get about your day.” You’re still rooted down as he retreats, a giddy feeling rising in your chest when he turns back to glance at you, giving you one last smile before he climbs onto one of the waiting horses and is gone.

Your feet ache, a dull throbbing that you find almost easy to ignore as Spencer’s laugh fills your ears. He leads you through the last few steps of the lively dance, the both of you giggling breathlessly as you look up at him.

“One more?” He asks, and every part of your heart wants to say yes but you force yourself to turn him down.

“Not unless you want our engagement announced in tomorrow’s society pages.” You remind him of social custom, though to your confusion a strange look crosses his face, something you can’t quite read. “Besides,” you continue, “if I dance another set my feet might just fall off.” His smile is back in an instant and he offers you his arm.

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” You’re happy to loop your arm through his and allow him to escort you off the floor. It’s not until he leads you out onto the terrace, the cool night air raising goosebumps on the exposed skin of your neck and arms, that you pay attention to where he’s leading you.

You sink down gratefully on the bench he leads you to, waving him away when he offers to get you something to drink.

“I’m alright, Doctor Reid, I’m sure you have other young ladies to sweep off their feet.” He sits even as you dismiss him, his hand resting only a hairsbreadth away from yours on the bench cushion. You can feel his proximity as though the air was full of sparks, dancing across your skin and burning in your lungs.

“No,” the slight gravel in his voice makes you melt, his tone so soft you hardly hear it, “there’s no one else.” The world stills, even the other people meandering the terrace fade away as he looks at you, his amber eyes wide and sincere and you gaze back, hoping that in your eyes he can see your soul laid bare. Then his lip quirks upward, his eyes flickering to your lips then back to your spellbound eyes.

“And I thought I asked you to call me Spencer.”

The high, full moon paints the lawn before you as you wander slowly down the path towards the trees. Your feet still ache from dancing, but you ignore it in favor of wandering the grounds. The night is pleasantly cool, a gentle breeze curling through the air and making you thankful you’d brought the soft woolen shawl that was draped about your shoulders. A sound from the trees makes you stop in your tracks, your heart racing as you know you shouldn’t be out this late. But your worry passes immediately when you see the figure that steps into view on the path from the Beaumont estate, his tall, slender frame and soft curls unmistakable even in the dark. Spencer doesn’t see you, his back towards you as he strolls slowly down the path and you pause to admire him. He’s forgone a coat, walking in just his shirtsleeves and vest with his hands in his pockets and his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Allowing a smile to break across your face, you hurry towards him as quietly as you can.

“Spencer!” You hiss as you draw near, laughing as he whips around, startled.

“Y/n?” He squints through the dark.

“Who else?” You laugh softly as you watch him panic a little over the propriety of the situation.

“You can’t be seen out here!” He hisses, leaning in as if someone were listening.

“Who is here to see?” You glance up at the Beaumont house, partially obscured by the trees, its windows dark and silent. “The Beaumonts? Well into their seventies and asleep before sundown?” Turning over your shoulder, you look back at your own house, completely out of sight behind another line of trees. You face him again, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps on your skin as you find his gaze fixed on you. “But if it would make you feel better.” You brush past him, farther down the path and into the stand of trees. A beat of silence falls, save for your footsteps, until the sound of his boots on the stones of the path confirms that he is behind you.

“Miss Y/n, I don’t want any, um-” He pauses as you stop under a large oak tree, the moonlight breaking through the gaps in the leaves and peppering the ground with glowing patterns that shift with the breeze as you turn to face him, “that is, uhm, I would hate for any assumptions to be made about you due to my presence here.” He finishes after clearing his throat, his hand tugging nervously at the hem of his vest. Without thinking, you step forward, just as close now as you had been when you danced with him. You feel his presence like a magnet, pulling you ever closer to him. His words at the ball come back to you, giving you the courage to go on.

“You know all the rules, Dr Reid, perhaps for once you could try breaking one of them?” Your boldness surprises you a little as you rest your hand on his chest lightly, your fingers curling around the lapel of his vest, your heart hammering in your ears as you raise your eyes to him.

“I think I’m already breaking about twenty-six.” His voice sounds slightly choked as a smile flickers across his face. His eyes sparkle even in the dark and you swear you can feel his heartbeat thudding frantically under your hand.

“So what’s one more?” He’s so close now, your faces mere inches apart. His hand raises and hesitates, hovering by your shoulder for an instant as his eyes search yours. You nod your permission with a smile. Then his warm hand wraps around the back of your neck and his lips press against your own. Immediately you are intoxicated, melting against his chest as your heart leaps into your throat, your head spinning as he presses closer. His hand coming to rest on your waist spurs you into action, your hands cupping his jaw as you kiss him back hungrily. Your body presses against him, your heart hammering in your ears as sparks fly across your skin. He breaks from you for just a moment, gasping out.

“I love you.” Before you can react he’s swept you up in another kiss, then another, then another, speaking between them as if he physically couldn’t keep himself from kissing you. “I love you, Y/n- you’re- the most wonderful- person I’ve ever met. I feel like- I can’t breathe- unless you’re near me.- God, Y/n.” There’s fire in his kisses now, his hands holding you impossibly close. Eventually you have to stop him, bracing your hands on his chest as you gasp for air, your faces still mere centimeters apart, your noses brushing against each other as you breathe out.

“I love you, Spencer.” He lets out a relieved sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob. All of the urgency is gone when he kisses you next, replaced by pure reverence and soft tenderness that you could have stood and enjoyed forever. But he pulls away from you far too soon, his beautiful eyes glittering down at you in the near blackness.

“Would you marry me?” Your heart stops in your chest at his whispered query, thinly veiled desperation showing through in the way his arm draws you impossibly closer to his chest. When you simply stare back at him, lost for words, he continues. “Not-not right now I’m not asking you right now, but I-” He sucks in a breath, searching your face. “If I asked, would you say yes?”

You were standing in a dream, you must be, how else would you find yourself cradled in Spencer Reid’s arms, held as though you were the most precious thing in the world to him as he asks you to be his wife.

“Yes.” Is all you can manage, joy rising in your chest and tears pricking your eyes. You see your own joy reflected in his face as you bring your hand up to gingerly trace your fingertips over the planes of his jaw as you had wished a thousand times to do. He lets out a soft laugh, letting his forehead fall to rest against yours. Your own laugh bubbles up from your chest in return, a tear escaping his eye just as one of your own rolls down your cheek. In matching movements, you both swipe the tear off the other’s cheek.

“Oh my angel,” You could collapse at his sweet tone and sweeter words, his thumb leaving sparks on your skin as he brushes it along the curve of your cheek, “I’ve dreamt of holding you so many times, I’m afraid I’m going to wake up from this.”

“Me too.” The air sparkles as he brings his face even closer, just barely letting his lips brush yours.

“In case this is a dream, I’m going to keep kissing you, okay?.” You didn’t answer, just closed the gap between you, perfectly content to go along with his plan.

The silence in your father’s study feels like a thousand pounds resting on your chest as you watch him study Spencer, who stands before him with his head held high. Finally, your father stands, looming over his desk and your heart struggles to beat as he speaks.

“Doctor Reid if anything untoward has occurred I will have your head.” Spencer stands even taller

“Sir, on my life I would do nothing to endanger her.” You can’t help the light flush that creeps up your neck at the almost lie.

“It’s no matter then, I have already promised her hand.”

“Father!”

“That promise is not yours to give!” Spencer and you speak at the same time, your father throwing up his hand to silence our protests.

“Young man-” He begins, but Spencer cuts him off, an edge of anger seeping into his voice.

“Did you even consider her thoughts on the matter? Did you ask her or did you just sign her over? Is- is her happiness not paramount to you? It is to me.” His eyes leave your father then, sliding past him to find you. “If she were to say that she would be happier in another match, I will never speak another word in opposition.” The slight sadness in his tone tugs on your heart and you offer him a soft, reassuring smile and shake your head to tell him that no, you would not be happier in another match.

“Mr Fields has-” Spencer’s gaze is back on your father in an instant at the mention of Fields.

“Nothing that I do not. It is clearly not a matter of station, so what have I done that prevents your blessing?”

“Doctor Reid, do not think that I am not aware of your presence at the betting tables.”

“I win my bets, sir.”

“I will not have you wagering my daughter’s dowry on horses.”

“I have never planned to see a cent of her dowry, that is hers to do with as she sees fit and I have never bet money that I did not have. But, if that is your condition, I will never place another bet. Sir, please.” He steps forward, standing tall. “I understand that we are asking you to break a contract but this is a matter of the rest of your daughter’s life. She is more precious than the very sky and I am willing to spend the rest of my life proving it to her. She deserves happiness, and I believe that I can give her that.” Your father pauses, still turned away from you so you can’t see his face. There’s no air in the room as the moment stretches into an eternity, the silence weighing heavy on us all.

“She will be cared for?” Your lungs manage to fill with air, the oppressive weight sitting on your chest easing substantially.

“To my last breath, sir.” Your father turns to you then, studying you intently.

“And you would be content in this match?” Your heart soars at his words.

“Father, I would be overjoyed.” His gaze flits between the two of you before letting his rigid demeanor fall, offering you a small smile.

“Then who am I to say different? Doctor Reid, you have my blessing.” He hardly finished his sentence before you had thrown your arms around him.

“Thank you Father.” You press a kiss to his cheek as he hugs you tightly. When he releases you, he kisses your forehead.

“I only wish to see you happy, my child.” He looks over your shoulder and gestures for you to turn around and when you do he gives you a soft nudge towards Spencer, still standing before you and looking at you with an elated smile. You’re in his arms in an instant, the both of you letting out relieved laughs as you hold each other tight, your lover rocking you back and forth gently. Before the moment goes on too long, your father speaks.

“Join us for dinner, Doctor Reid, and make it all official where Y/n’s mother can’t scold me for allowing her to miss it.”

That evening you find yourself in a pale lilac gown, seated beside your aunt and directly across from Spencer, neither of you able to keep your eyes off the other over the dinner table for more than a few seconds, fighting back giddy smiles. You’ve hardly been seated for a minute before your father clears his throat, looking pointedly at Spencer, who flushes a sweet pink and stands, clearing his own throat as he makes his way around the table.

“Before we begin dinner, I would like to take a moment of your time.” He offers you his hand, helping you up as your mother and aunt both gasp excitedly. They fade into mere background noise as you look up at your lover in his best navy blue suit, holding both your hands in his and looking at you as though there was nothing but the two of you. “Y/n,” he begins softly, “You have had my heart from the moment we met, and it will remain yours as long as I live.” One of his hands releases yours as he sinks to one knee, producing a navy velvet ring box. “It would be the greatest honor of my life to call myself your husband so, Y/n y/l/n, will you be my wife?” Even having known it was coming, you can’t help the flood of joyful tears that spill forth as you watch him open the box, revealing a delicate gold ring with a spray of vibrant emeralds set around a purple sapphire like leaves around a flower. Finally you find your voice, letting out a soft sob as you speak.

“Yes, yes, Spencer, I’ll be your wife.” He’s crying now too as he slips the ring onto your finger, standing amidst excited exclamations from your mother and aunt. They crowd around you, gasping at the ring and tittering about wedding preparations but all the while you can’t take your eyes off of Spencer. He holds your gaze and you understand without words that there was so much left unspoken. How you wish for the solitude of a dark corner or empty hallway so you could let him draw you close and hold you the way you longed for, the way he did the night he told you he loved you, and whisper together everything that can’t be said aloud. He gives your hand a squeeze before releasing it to accept your father’s handshake, an opportunity immediately seized by your mother as she quickly grabs your wrist and pulls you into a hug.

“Oh congratulations my darling girl.” She whispers, rocking you gently side to side. “I can’t imagine a better match.”

Please like, reblog and, comment, I'd love to hear what you think!

This was supposed to go up tomorrow but I got too excited lol.

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