#queue should have raised a baby girl

[faggot-friday]

for today ONLY my pronouns are cae/ser

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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As an American, I need this. Please.

Skipping the queue to do this for you, because yeah. That's a solid af reason.

1k for TWATYTK:

---

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that. Knowing what that’s like has informed so many of his parenting choices over the years. Eddie looks at his husband. He gets the religious, cultural side of it in a way Buck doesn’t. But Buck isn’t a stranger to a different genre of growing up without the necessary affection, either. More so than Eddie, maybe. 

Buck has a strange, contemplative look on his face. 

“And, uh, the open adoption part,” he says to Lourdes. “That’s so you know for sure?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not quite following. But the way Lourdes’ face sinks, she does. She understands what Buck is saying. 

“Yeah,” Lourdes nods. “I can’t keep her. I know I can’t. But what kind of person would I be if I just… Didn’t make sure she was okay with people who love her properly?”

Eddie gets that, too. It’s the same thought process that led him to changing his will all those years ago. To changing what would have been the natural, assumed process of things in the case of his death. Chris would have been fine if Eddie died and he went to live with his parents. His physical needs would have been met. They wouldn’t have even been hard on him in the same ways they were hard on Eddie, for a number of reasons from different circumstances to ableism. But would they have loved him properly? Fought for him right? No. Eddie knows that wholeheartedly. No. 

Lourdes may not want or be able to parent this child. But she’s got that bone deep instinct that Eddie recognizes. The one where you’re desperate to make sure your child has it better and easier than you did. 

“She’s lucky,” Eddie says suddenly. Because maybe no one has told this girl that. Maybe she’s only been told that she’s fucked up. “The baby. She’s lucky.”

Lourdes blinks. Her face kind of goes blank.

“Not every kid has someone advocating for them like that,” Eddie explains. 

When Lourdes speaks again, her voice is a little shaky.

“Thank you.”

☆☆☆

They leave Pepa’s maybe an hour later. When Pepa and Maria arrived back from their walk, they did of course make Eddie and Buck tell Lourdes all about Chris. Even though Eddie is certain she’s already heard. It’s a bizarre matchmaking process that leaves Eddie with a poor taste in his mouth. Regardless, he’s glad they met Lourdes. Glad they talked to her. Even if he can be one person to make her feel like she’s not a screw up, whatever. He’ll take it. It was worth the rest of the discomfort. 

Buck is quiet as they leave. He’s got a very intense but distant look in his eyes. He’s thinking so hard Eddie worries steam is going to start coming out of his ears. Eddie feels guilty. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be here. 

They don’t even make it down Pepa’s street before Buck pulls the vehicle over, puts it into park, and looks at Eddie. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. 

“I change my mind,” Buck says. 

“What?” 

“I change my mind. We should adopt her baby.”

Eddie can’t be hearing this correctly.

“Buck,” he sighs. “Come on. You don’t have to do this because you feel bad or pressured.”

Buck shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. I really want to do it.”

“Okay, well,” Eddie huffs, a little exasperated. “You were adamantly against this a few days ago, remember? So I’m sort of confused here.”

“I can’t have a change of heart?” He asks.

“Not without me worrying that you feel backed into a corner or-or guilty…”

“I don’t!” Buck practically snaps. “I’m just fucking terrified, okay?”

Eddie feels a bit stunned. That’s not what he expected to hear. In this whole lengthy discussion, spanning over a year, about becoming parents again, Buck has never expressed fear. That’s sort of Eddie’s thing. Buck has always been the one who plows full steam ahead. Confident. Optimistic. Easy-going. But, Eddie supposes, they’ve never been this close before.

“Okay,” Eddie says gently. “Explain that to me.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I… I liked that we had everything under control before, right?”

“Right,” Eddie nods. 

“But I… I do like the idea of helping her. Of having a little girl in October? That’s, like, so soon. That’s amazing.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

Well… October 19th is less than four months away. So that’s… Scary as shit, actually? But Eddie could handle that. Of course that’s the part Buck is excited about. But, overall, yes. A little girl, sooner than they expected, does sound pretty wonderful. Even if Eddie had been super sure their next kid would be a boy. That hardly matters. 

“But, Eddie… We would have no control,” Buck says. “She could… She could change her mind. She… She could change her mind before. She could change her mind at the birth. In California, she has thirty days to take her back.” 

“Oh,” Eddie exhales, understanding. 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle that, Eddie. How could I handle that? It was hard enough handing over the baby when I knew he wasn’t mine to keep, I…” Buck gulps for breath. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods. “Okay, I understand. And yeah, that would… That would be awful. It would.”

Buck breathes, clearly trying to bring himself back down.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says. “I don’t think she’d do that.”

“We don’t really know her,” Buck says. “I like her. She seems great. But we don’t know her.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “We don’t. I just… I got a sense she’s really serious about setting that baby up to have a happier life than she’s had. Which is why she’d prefer two public servants to the wealthy church family.” 

“Right,” Buck mumbles. “Yeah, she did… She did seem that way.”

“But…” Eddie sighs. “I don’t think that’s the main factor here.”

[bonsaiiiiiii-fics]

Eggs

Is it destiny? Is it a coincidence? But especially, What should she do now that the person she has been looking for doesn’t exist anymore?

Words: 5300-ish

Genre: fluff, slice of life. a bit of angst too? cos memories and stuff…no trigger warnings mentionable.

Fandom: Thunderbirds are go!2015

Characters: boi, all of ‘em! We also have Lucille, and I sprinkled in some oc’s!

Special mention: thank you to @louthestarspeaker for lending me her Laurie, your girl has been an absolute delight to write!

This story is kinda weird, and I don’t know if there’s gonna be a continuation or not. I just had an idea, wrote it down and here we are! Nothing serious, just for fun/writing again/passing the time. Don’t @ me, if you read it and discover you don’t like it, leave it where it is and back tf away slowly. (just for precaution. moots i don’t wanna bite ur ass <3)

Ao3 link

"...Is it too late to back up now?" She asks timidly, grimacing and taking a small step away from the door. Gran Roca Ranch. At least that's what it says on the billboard at the entrance. "Probably she isn't even here anymore!" 

"Nope." Laurie answers her first question, a haunting hand hovering on the door. "This is the time to act like that amazing, confident, person that you are, no ifs, ands or buts about it." She tries to fight her best friend when she gets a grip of her hand, forcing her to depart it from the door the farthest possible. "And you- ugh!, you won't know if you don't knock!" She grunts, noticing just how strong Quinn can be. Seriously, she eats tacos and smoothies all day, how the hell does she manage to keep it if she's as slim as a twig? Genes? 

"Well I need a reinforcement taco before this!" Quinn forces through gritted teeth. "And what do you think I'm going to tell her, hey! I'm your donor baby and I'm here to flip your life upside down?" She rolls her eyes, adjusting her sunglasses. "What if she doesn't even want to see me?" 

"If she left you her address in the envelope, then I think she wanted you to find her." 

"Well, I'm not ready to find out just yet!" 

"Not that you can help it, you know. You're screeching so loud I think all the neighborhood heard you." Laurie says, hands on her hips and a false innocent smile on her face, the plan morphed into her mind taking action. "And if she hasn't heard you before, she surely will hear this now!" And with that awful sentence she rings on the doorbell, doing what Quinn tried stopping her from doing until now. 

The blonde girl, in return, starts by gawking at her with her eyes almost out of their sockets and a jaw so low you could store an entire cake inside her mouth, then punches her -not so lightly- on a shoulder, making Laurie gasp at the pain and the sudden movement. "Traitor!" She spits, just seconds before the door opens, revealing... 

"Uh..." Kayo falters, taking in the scene in front of her very eyes upon opening the door. There's two women, soft blonde waves and some midnight black locs, arms tangled in each other, more like the blonde is trying to strangle her friend and the latter is trying to defend herself, both looking awkwardly at her. "Can I...help you?" She asks tentatively, her eyebrow raised, studying them intently. The blonde is holding an envelope in her hand, and now that she looks at her...the resemblance is dangerously familiar to someone... 

"Uh!" Quinn gasps, detangling from her best friend and just smiling broadly, as if nothing happened. "Hi, my name is Quinn, and this is Laurie." 

"Hi, Quinn and Laurie. So, what can I help you with?" Kayo repeats, her patience wearing thin. Who are these two strangers? This isn't pizza delivery! She mentally prays that it’s not another string of paparazzi striving to secure an interview, them being the first two of a long queue. Even if the Tracy’s like to be reserved about their whereabouts, the paps’ job is to unveil, tell and write as many tales as possible, and this requires some great investigative skills, for example finding Jeff Tracy’s old house. It’s not the first time paparazzi are at their door, and it certainly won’t be the last.

"Um," Quinn clears her throat, shifting from embarrassed to confident, again, that spark in her eye that looks dangerously familiar. Now that Kayo thinks about it, if Gordon was to have a female counterpart, Quinn would be embodying it. "I'm looking for Lucille Collins. Does she, um, live here?" 

Now this leaves Kayo dumbfounded. 

And with a lot of questions. 

How does she know? Why is she looking for her? Could it be...? 

"Um. Excuse me." Is all Kayo can say to excuse herself and close the door in their faces, now leaving both girls with a fish out of water face. 

"What was that?" Quinn asks, her cordial smile still plastered on her face, but one eye twitching in incredulousness. 

"I don't...know?" Laurie is smiling too, holding her still painful shoulder. They both look at each other, and this is the moment when Laurie knows Quinn's about to lose control. 

"So who was it at the door? Did the pizza delivery read our minds before we could place the order?" Gordon asks smugly, a note of curiosity in his voice. 

"That would be so dope!" Alan adds, leaning forward in his chair so his arms come to rest on his lap. 

Kayo, however, doesn't seem to hear them as she clears her throat, ready to drop whatever bomb this is on them.

"Are you okay, Kayo? You look like you've seen a ghost." Virgil butts in, obviously concerned about her losing all the color in her face. 

"There's two women at the door, they're looking for Mrs. Tracy, and I don’t mean Grandma." She says as neutrally as possible, not seeming to avoid massaging her arm awkwardly in the process. "What am I supposed to do?" 

Nobody answers her, and the silence is so audible you can hear the indistinct chatting of the women still at the door, probably debating on whether to stay and just vanish from the premises from the heat of it. 

"Huh." Jeff mutters, taking the situation in his own hands. "I think I know what this is about. Help me up, please." He asks no one in particular, Scott jumping up from his armchair like it's on fire, instantly by his father's side. "Thank you, son. Take me to the door." 

"If we disappear silently, she probably won't even know we were there! We can say she just imagined it! Or that I'm the, uh, mailman?" Quinn tries, shrugging her shoulders in the process. 

"I don't think she would believe you, you're not exactly dressed up as one." Laurie counters, eyeing her short romper. 

"Gasp," she audibly gasps. "Are you trying to say I look ugly?" 

"If the shoe fits." She winks at her bestie, earning a glare from her. 

"I hate you." 

"No you don't." 

A sound near the front door, like a crane tapping on the floor, makes both straighten their backs up, standing like soldiers in wait for their general. Moments later, Jeff Tracy himself, accompanied by his son, opens the door, and the girls just...stare. 

"Uh, Quinn? I think we got the wrong house..." Laurie recognizes immediately the man standing in front of her, seemingly unlike Quinn, that flashes him and his exact same, younger copy, her dimpled smile. 

"Hiiiii!" She tries a more energetic approach. "I'm Quinn, and this is Laurie." She gestures to her bestie, who is looking mildly uncomfortable, deeming it necessary to introduce themselves again. "We're looking for-" 

"I know." Jeff nods. "You must be her daughter. Co-" 

"HUH!?" Scott gasps, involuntarily interrupting his dad who side looks at him. "What!? Her what??" He looks wide eyed at her, then at his dad, then back again at her. 

She seems to ignore his apparent outburst. "Yeah, something like that. So, does she live here?" If there's one thing to know about Quinn Prescott is that she gets straight to the point. And eats tacos nonstop, apparently. 

Jeff is silent, a pang of sadness visible on his face. "Come in." He replies to her question, stepping aside - and forcing Scott, as still as a statue, to do the same - and welcoming them in what used to be Luci's house. Scott disappears right back in, probably to warn everyone of the unexpected new visitor invading their home, or to prepare them psychologically for this, leaving the girls to let themselves in without too many ceremonies, Quinn taking off her paperboy hat and just holding it in her hand as Jeff slowly accompanies them to the living room, where everyone is gathered. 

"Holy shmeesus!" Is the first thing she mutters to Laurie upon seeing all these people, wondering just now that maybe she got the wrong house. But if she did, the man living inside it wouldn't let them in, right? She's probably not home at the moment, yeah, that's it. One thing for sure, the room is loaded with people and every single one of them seem to be looking- no, gawking, at her. Expecting her to be joking about the matter. There's the woman that opened the door the first time, the man that opened it the second, 5 other men and a old lady. And not to mention this house is gigantic. Dam, egg mama's loaded! 

Everyone is so still, the silence is so deafening, like they can't believe their eyes; she manages to get a sound from them all, a collective general gasp, after her sunglass lenses fade back to clear, not sensing any sunlight inside, revealing her warm brown eyes. 

"It's uncanny." Scott mutters, breaking the silence. 

"It's mom." Virgil backs him up, just gaping at her. She shares his same eyes, and, well, mom's. Come to think about it, she is mom, just a different smile, skin tone, and some round glasses added.

"What is this, dad?" Scott confronts their dad, wanting, needing, to know more. A perfect stranger, with the same appearance as their mother, comes at their door, searches for her, and apparently she's her daughter? And seemingly, Jeff knows about it all. 

Jeff in reply looks at Quinn, holding out a hand towards her as if to show she's there. "Want to do the honors?" 

She nods, taking in a deep breath. "So...I'm Lucille's donor baby, and I'm invading your lives!" She jokes, to then immediately facepalm, followed by a nervous chuckle from Laurie, accompanied by a head shake. "Hehe, sorry...I always joke when I'm nervous, I don't know why I do that." She first scratches her jaw, then behind her ear, handing Jeff the envelope she carried until now, covering her lap with her checkered white and brown hat. "But that's about it. The address listed in her description was this one." 

"Yeah, I know who you are already." Despite this statement, he still opens the envelope, suddenly invaded by his eldest three sons that read over his shoulder too, reading indeed his late wife's name, but another as well. "I just didn't think you'd even show up, even if she hoped to see you." 

"She does?" She smiles, her dimples showing. She unconsciously side glances at Laurie, which shoots her a timid thumbs up. 

"She did." He corrects her, the pain in his words leading her to lose the dimples she shares with Scott. 

"Um, care to explain for those who can't understand the situation?" Alan butts in, knowing the heaviness of the situation but now how to decipher it. 

"Yeah, like, we just got mom's clone and then what?" Gordon counters. 

Just when she wants to speak, Jeff looks again at her, prodding her silently to explain herself. It's her situation, and she gets to take it into her own hands as she wants. 

"So, from what my parents told me, they weren't able to conceive, so they picked out donors from both sides; Lucille was my egg donor, while Clinton was my sperm donor. I don't really know anything about them, my parents told me about it just recently and recommended that I speak personally with them first, but without them I wouldn't exist, so...ta-daaa!" She slightly enlarges her hands, waving her open hands up and down. 

"Well, you surely took your time." Jeff comments sarcastically, loosening her stiff shoulders a little. 

"That's cool! Is it something like out of a lab?" Alan asks, earning a side glare from Virgil. 

"Egg and sperm donors have existed for a long time, you know?" The second eldest points out to him in a scolding tone. 

"I didn't know about the egg ones, Virg!" 

"Me either Virg! We're not all medical like you." Gordon, as always, speaks as if he and Allie are the same. 

"Pardon my sons," this sentence from Jeff seems to override their sons'. "They're just curious about you, she never spoke to them about you." 

"How to blame her?" Grandma says, laughing gently. "She didn't expect the gal to even show up. She just did a good deed." She gets up, sitting on an armrest of the armchair Virgil sat back on, patting gently his shoulder. 

"That she did." Jeff looks at her, drinks her in with those silver eyes of his. Yep, she's Lucille's spitting image: long blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, same nose, same lips. The only thing changing is a golden skin tone, complimenting perfectly her eyes and hair and making her look like a golden ember, and the way she smiles; even if she has Luci's lips and dimples, she smiles differently, a charming and 'I'm sexy and I know it' kind of smile instead of Luci's warm and harmless one. "You look a lot like her." He says after a long while, in which she seems content basking in the attention. She knows she's beautiful, she probably has an overly big ego, and the fact this family is feeding it is rather nice to her. 

"Yeah, Laurie says I'm her spitting image. Uh, from the pictures I found in the envelope." 

"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to see her anytime, I'm afraid." He says.

She doesn't seem to read between the lines. "Oh, yeah, I totally get it! She has another family now, not that I was her family before, but I get it, no worries. Just tell her I've been here." She gets up, dusting absent-mindedly her dress and hat. 

"No, you don't get it." Jeff is finding all the strength in himself to say the words long dreaded in the Tracy household. "She passed some time ago." He lets out after a long, painful, sigh. 

"Oh." She mutters, to then plop back down. "Can I ask for how long?" 

"Almost 20 years." 

She gets silent, a lot of thoughts whirling in her brain, but she pushes them aside for her to think about them later. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

"I'm sorry too." He raises his eyes to look at her. "She wanted to meet you, she really did." 

"Well...I wouldn't be me if I didn't keep my always being late rap, right?" She tries to crack a joke, earning a cheeky smile from everyone, even a tiny laugh from the tinies. 

"Oh, preach!" Laurie exclaims, happy that her friend finally noticed. 

"So, what is it you do in life, Quinn?" Jeff changes subject after she so helpfully contributed in raising the spirits back up; unfortunately, Lucille has always been a tough topic to talk about after her passing, and probably this is just what they needed now that they're all back together. 

"Oh, I just got into college, Columbia." 

"Ah, Ivy League! Impressive! Major?" 

"Programming." 

"I see. Well, I wish you best of luck on your journey." 

"Thank you, um, Mr..." She just now realizes she never properly caught his name, nor the others'; it sure looks like a wide family, though. 

"Oh! We didn't introduce ourselves, sorry! We were just so caught by everything..." He immediately apologizes, getting up not without any help from his second eldest. "I'm Jeff Tracy." Once in front of Quinn, who just got up too, he extends his hand for her to shake it, and notices she has a very tight grip, too. 

"Huh, Tracy you say?" Quinn is silent for a second, an eyebrow raised to try and remember when she heard that name before, while Laurie, once her suspicions (that weren't so suspicious) got confirmed, draws in a shaky breath, not understanding why in the Heavens her bestie doesn't realize how lucky she is to even breathe the same expensive air as these business tycoons. And, yeah, International Rescue themselves. "I like it. I assume you are- uh, were..." 

"Yeah, her husband. These are our kids. Boys?" He calls out for them to get up and present themselves, to which they oblige dutifully. 

Scott is the first one to present himself, his grip somewhat strong, but not menacing. He saw the description, everything true to the minimal detail, and the fact she's their mom's spitting image contributes greatly to the cause, as if she was cloned, and their dad seems to know and support of this situation; however, he still doesn't know if she's lying, faking it all, and found sensible information, touched a nerve who could bring them down, his Commander brain gearing up for action. He, alas, has complete faith in dad, and in John, who didn't go unnoticed by Scott as he briefly excused himself to go to the bathroom, secretly fulfilling the eldest' order to run a background check on her. He notices her firm grip too, complete with the fact she either doesn't seem to care, or is oblivious to the pinning, calculating stare he's giving her, flashing him a taste of his own medicine, killer dimples. Yep, truly mom's child. 

The next in line is Virgil, who takes her hand softly and shakes it gently, and she swears he's like massaging it or something, because she finds instantly relief from a throbbing she didn't even notice until it passed, truly magical. They both get lost in the eyes they both share the color of, mom's color, and both wonder how one could be a spitting image of the other. Virgil is calm, trusting, not wanting to start any rumors or thoughts, just trusting what the person in front of him is saying. Like, how could she lie with those eyes? He swears he's looking at mom who came back to life and waltzed back into their lives.

Gordon pops up next, and damn! If she thought to be Lucille's spitting image, from that little description pic, then this man is taking it up a notch! Same features, different gender. It's almost frightening. Gordon, on the other hand, is totally unaffected by any negative thoughts and emotions, just excited to hear about this new, strange thing, egg donation, and the fact that a new sibling is added to their family, even if she's just a half-sibling. It's still something from mom, and everything from mom is precious right now. 

Alan is quick in presenting himself with a fist bump, a gesture that Quinn loves gladly, evolving it into a weird bro hand salute Alan seems to be on board with, professionalism not necessary right now. After all, if she’s in college right now…same as him! They’re college buddies!

Last but not least brother, John, shaking briefly her hand and directing a hidden thumbs up at Scott, who nods and exhales briefly, his worries dissolving temporarily. 

Kayo is up, her way of shaking hands translated into shoving a tablet into Quinn's face, that shrugs and places her thumb on it, more than calm about the fact that they can't get money from her as she's broker than a broken record, having invested her last savings in...tacos. Kayo swiftly nods, and Quinn just shrugs, before she gets presented to the next person.

A sweet old lady, who seems very spirited. “Hello, gal! Well, I’ll be damned, you’re her spitting image!” This makes Quinn crack a wide smile, the girl identical in her biological mother even in these simple gestures. "I'm Sally, but you can call me Grandma. I'm the boys' grandmother and Jeff's mother. It's nice you finally joined us." To unknot her nerves, Grandma gently squeezes Quinn's shoulder, to which the girl looks at her warmly. This woman, this part of her newfound family, has this capacity to melt her worries and insecurities away in a way...familiar to her, like it's been done to her since she was born. 

"Don't blame her too much, she has this knack for always showing up late." Laurie butts in the conversation after being presented too to the boys, daring to see if a joke can fix up the mood. 

"I call it being fashionably late." Quinn replies, swooshing a strand of hair behind her shoulder smugly. 

Grandma laughs heartily. "I know a thing or two about it. Between us, but...your mother was always fashionably late too." She confesses to the girls, Quinn gaping a little. 

"See?" She triumphantly points out. "It's all in the genes!"

Laurie laughs too, looking at her bestie. “Don’t give her excuses now, or it’ll get to her head!”

Quinn is about to counterattack with a not too ladylike answer, when another voice joins in the conversation again. "Clinton Smith?" She turns to look at Jeff, which looks at the envelope then at her.

“Oh, yeah, that’s my donor dad. Or at least that’s all I know about him, I haven’t visited him yet.” She replies, looking somewhere else with a bitter smile, that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeff.

“Is he…unavailable too?” He tries this word, not having enough guts built up to say that word, that nefarious word he wishes he never had to say to describe his wife.

“Actually…I don’t know?” She replies questionably back, scratching her neck in the process. “I haven’t been able to find him at all. Either he vanished, or he doesn’t want to be found, or…yeah.”

“Doesn’t want to be found…why is that?” Jeff asks back, trying to understand more from that situation; maybe he can help, he can ‘rescue’ her if she wants to.

“Well, there’s his name, but no address. But I suppose if he didn’t want to be found, then he wouldn’t have wanted his name to be added to that document, because it’s supposed to be for me to read once I came of age.” She plops down to her previous seat, crossing her arms with a focused frown painted on her face, the upper lip touching her nose septum, her dimples visible and her eyes looking upwards, painting Lucille’s face with an almost childish and exaggerated undertone. “I know I’m very late in searching for them since I got the documents, but if you don’t want your child to know anything about you, then…you cancel everything they might know about you, right?”

“I don’t know exactly, it never happened to me…” He replies ironically, earning a broad smile from his boys, a sign that they had a father from the start that cared about them and loved them deeply. “But if you want to get to know him, we can help you out.”

She widens her eyes slightly. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“Yeah, of course! Family is important, and if you want to know exactly who both of your biological parents are it’s perfectly normal! I just happen to know a detective that can help you out on this, that is if you accept our help.” He states tentatively, knowing he doesn’t have any ‘power’ over her, despite her being Lucille’s first child and only daughter, her only female lineage, making her very precious; but at the same time he knows that he can’t force her to be a part of their lives just because she’s family by blood, she has another adoptive family that love her and raised her to be the woman she is now. The decision to be a Tracy must belong to Quinn and Quinn only. “And, of course, I’ll tell you more about your biological mother as well.”

“Well…” Quinn takes it all in, pondering deeply which answer she should give in return and moving her gaze to the floor. She knows that if she replies positively, this means she’ll come in contact with part of her biological family again, but she also knows that this decision is totally up to her, just like before when Jeff allowed her to explain who she was and why she was connected with this family. The question is, does she want to be part of this family? She already has another one, the one that has been there with her from the start, waiting for her at home. Can she replace them so easily? Being part of more than a family at once, even her biological dad’s side, is it possible? Does it mean that if she chooses to do this, she’ll have to leave her ‘old’ family behind, or can she rotate between one family and the other on random days?

“I’m sorry…” She finally comes up with an answer. “...but I have to think about it. This thing about Lucille has been a huge blow for me, and I’m not saying this because she…well, passed, but I think it would have been a blow even if today I would’ve gotten to talk to her. I received the document just recently…and…you guys…”

“Don’t apologize at all, Quinn, it’s understandable.” This is the first time that man calls her by her name. it’s…strange. “You have yet to elaborate all of this, and we’re here when, if, you’ll be ready to talk to us again.”

“Thank you.” Quinn smiles fondly at Jeff, and for the first time since she smiled at him, it seems like Lucille is smiling at him again after 19 long years where the world has been deprived of his wife’s warm and innocent smile. Another person notices, and where Jeff forces himself to keep the tears in, Virgil can’t manage to, a single, lonely, tear leaving a trail down his cheek but a happy smile painted on his chiseled face, Scott and John reaching out to place a hand on each of his shoulders, sharing the same emotion he’s feeling in seeing that smile, happy that they got the wish to see their mother’s smile one last time, even if it’s not their mother that’s in front of them right now. She captivated with that dimpled smile of hers everyone in the room, not just Jeff and his second eldest, and she doesn’t even notice it, how similar but how different she is from her biological mother. She glimmers with that smile.

“So…I’ll go home now, I think I already spent too much of your time.”

“Believe me,” Jeff starts, raising himself up to his feet and prompting his eldest and Quinn to do the same. “This time has been very well spent.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Alan, surprisingly, asks, like it’s not the first time he makes this question. Surprisingly, because he doesn’t feel the same way as his brothers and dad; sure, he saw mom’s photos, but she unfortunately doesn’t have the same place in his heart like it does for everyone else of them, since he didn’t have the opportunity to grow up with her, leaving the surprisingly vivid picture of her with an eerie heaviness over it, almost as if, everytime he looks at his mom, it’s like he’s worshiping a Goddess. It used to be like this with his dad too, before he returned from the deserted and secluded place he was left in for all these years, just after mom’s death…for as long as he can remember before things changed, his dad disappeared, his mom left them, and he was essentially an orphan growing up with his brothers, under Scott’s guardianship over nothing more than a toddler. But now that he looks at things under another perspective…it’s bad to say, but she also will never get the chance to meet her, didn’t get the chance to grow up with her either, and will always look at her photo to remember where she came from…they’re similar, if not the same, in this. Maybe they can help each other.

“Yeah, we have pizza!” Gordon butts in too, visibly perturbed by her departure.

“If you remember to place the call to order it.” John points out like usual with a raised eyebrow, earning an eye roll from his younger pufferfish sibling.

“I’d love to, but my parents are waiting for me at home.” Quinn turns towards Jeff, as if to seek some approbation from the Commander Supreme. “Another time, maybe?”

He nods, waiting for his two youngest sons’ faint oh’s to dissipate before speaking again. “We are more than happy to welcome you again. You can take my contact or one of my sons’, so that you can have your way of reaching out when you’re ready to.” He offers, glancing at his sons that all nod.

“Yeah, that would be a great idea. I hope you won’t mind if I take my time in…”

“Ah, no worries! We’re more than happy to help.” Jeff replies while he scribbles something on a paper, probably his comm link or his number; once he’s finished, instead of passing it to Quinn he raises it somewhere on his right, Virgil taking the paper and scribbling something on it too. “Once you’re ready, reach out to us, here’s our contacts.” Once the paper is in Jeff’s hands again, after it being passed through some brothers, he hands it over to Quinn, who takes it gladly, folding it and tucking it into her romper’s pockets.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to your dinner. Thank you for everything, and it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” Quinn bows her head slightly, smiling warmly to everyone.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, and it was nice meeting you too, Laurie.”

“Are you living far from here? Do you need one of us to accompany you?” Virgil asks, his ever caring spirit always present.

Quinn shoots a quick glance to Laurie, which in the meantime has almost teleported to her side; in exchange, Laurie raises her eyebrows and glances to the side, Quinn responding to her by shrugging slightly, and this ‘conversation’ goes on for a bit, all the while Virgil looks confused at them, then at his father.

“It’s a girl’s way of communicating, boys. You wouldn’t know.” Grandma intercepts the question marks in Virgil’s mind, talking to everyone.

“Well,” Quinn’s voice makes them all turn towards her and her bestie, who is smiling. “She’s coming back home with me, and we live just here across the neighborhood, so we’ll manage on our own, thank you anyways.”

“Perfect then. We hope to see you soon again, and I wish you good luck again on your journey. Please say hi to Bentley from me, and tell her I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit her and Charlie.” The procession has finally arrived at the door, escorting warmly their newfound family member out.

Quinn smiles as a sign of gratitude, before dropping her jaw to the floor and widen her eyes. “You know my parents?”

“Of course! Me and Luci have known them for a very long time now, we’ve been to school together, but we lost contact after we started working and had our children.”

“Oh…!” Quinn replies, then looks at the floor and smiles. “Sure, I’ll let them know.” She looks at Jeff with that smile on again. That warm smile that makes her dangerously familiar in his eyes.

“Well then, thank you for coming by. It was truly needed.”

“You’re kidding me? Thank you for having me!”

Once they finish bidding their farewells and the door closes, making them depart from the ranch, she turns towards her bestie, her smile radiant. “Girl, that was…”

“I’d say it was a success, but you didn’t find your mom.” Laurie counters, matching her newfound speed towards Quinn’s home. “Why are we running?”

“Well, but my parents are supposed to know her well, and I have all these step-brothers. And…oh, don’t brag.”

“We have no reason for running!” Laurie hisses, out of breath, her long locs whirling in the wind. “They can help you find your biological father too. Maybe you have some brothers or sisters from there too.”

“Well…” They both pant profusely, finally arriving at their destination; Quinn also lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know…I gotta talk to my parents. I want to know them, but…having them in my life…ugh! I need tacos.”

“Nu-huh. We’re home now and we’re eating what your parents made. Stop spending your life savings on tacos, bestie.” Laurie ushers Quinn towards the entrance door, forcing the latter to get the keys out to open it with another deep sigh. “And if talking with your parents is what you need…just, think about it. They are pretty important after all.”

“Hm?” Quinn says after greeting her parents loudly, announcing them she’s back home. “They’re just my biological half-brothers and their dad. Yeah, they’re important, but-” “Girl,” Laurie interrupts her with a serious face, making Quinn furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “You have no idea who they are, do you?”

[midgardian-witch]

I am multi-faceted and can't decide between fluff and smut today. Lol. So, NSFW Snuggle and/or SFW Clothing for 🐺 (duh)? If you do the clothing one, maybe Jack wearing his girl's shirt? It's always the girl wearing the guy's stuff. Let's branch out. Lol. Jack is smol. It would work. Hah.

Sideways related, because wolf, but I'm enjoying the 10th Kingdom gifs you've been posting too. 👍

Glad you enjoy the 10th Kingdom content! I put that in my queue when I rewatched it some time ago so this is just perfect timing for more woof content 😂

I am going with the sfw prompt because it immediately gave me an idea (took a bit longer though because I saw your ask really late last night and was already half asleep by that point 😅). You did say girl's shirt (and I agree more boyfriends should wear their girlfriend's clothes) but it turned more gn!reader other than the mention of reader owning dresses (fashion has no gender but ya know).

Hope you like it 💙

Tangled Up

Send me a prompt and a character and I'll write a reader drabble

tags: fluff | Scent Kink (hinted) | established relationship | mentions of reader owning dresses | gn!reader

ships: Jack Russell/Reader

AO3

(edit: I just now realized I totally forgot to put the tags in. I am so sorry 😭)

(edit 2: added AO3 link)

[CLOTHING] Person A finds Person B wearing their clothing.

You were exhausted. If everything had worked out like you had planned you'd have been in bed cuddling with your boyfriend hours ago. But of course things didn't go like you wanted them to. 

The door falls closed behind you with a heavy thud. You throw your bag to the side carelessly and walk into your flat but there is no sign of Jack. You expected him to perk up at the first sign of your arrival but alas neither hide nor hair of your werewolf boyfriend in either the living room or kitchen. 

"Jack? I'm home, baby!" 

Your call is left unanswered. That's unusual. Your brows furrow as you wander your flat until you stand in front of your bedroom door. Inside you hear a soft whimper. Your heart sinks into your stomach, dread pulling it down heavily. 

Was Jack hurt? Is that why he didn't greet you as soon as you entered the flat? 

With panic rising in your throat you open the door. The sight that greets you takes your breath away. 

In what can only be described as a nest of clothing lies Jack, dressed in nothing but a very familiar looking hoodie. He's curled around your pillow, your pajamas squished between it and his face. Every inhale of air is followed by a soft little whine from Jack. 

He looks so cute that it hurts you physically. 

You clear your throat awkwardly and at the sound his face immediately pops up. As Jack sees you his eyes grow wide and with an excited yelp he tries to scramble off of his makeshift nest. In his haste he gets tangled in some of the laundry. It's an adorable sight, like a puppy stuck in a blanket. 

You try and fail to stifle your giggling as you watch Jack struggle to get out of his nest. You decide to have mercy on him and walk over to him. He looks up at you as you stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes sparkling with joy. Dear god, you were only gone for a while but you've missed him. And by the Look in his eyes know he missed you too. 

You lean down and place a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, love" 

"You're here now. That's what matters, mi amor."

Your eyes wander his handsome face and travel downwards to the hoodie he had wrapped himself in. On closer inspection you realize why it looked so familiar. 

"That's mine, isn't it?" 

Jack tries to hide his embarrassment and his face inside the hoodie. His antics make you laugh again. He mumbles something into the soft fabric that you don't quite catch. 

Your hands cup his face and you tilt his head up tentatively, his eyes looking right into yours. No words leave your lips, you just raise your eyebrow, silently asking him to repeat himself.

"It's all yours,” he admits, gesturing towards the piles and piles of clothing. Shirts, pants, dresses, underwear, everything he could get his hands on, “I missed you, mi vida. So I-...well…"

You can feel the heat in his cheeks against your fingers. You're breathless for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. He had missed you so much that his first instinct was to surround himself with your things, your scent. 

The love you feel for him swallows you whole, like crashing waves pulling you down. It’s too much all at once, this ocean of emotion in which you'd gladly drown.

“I love you,” you choke out the words, tears of joy threatening to spill out at a moment's notice. His kind eyes watch you, his own breath caught in his throat as he recognizes the raw emotion on your face. His hands find yours against his cheek and he pulls them to his mouth, his lips peppering soft kisses to your palm and wrist.

“I love you too. More than words can describe.”

Jack pulls you towards him onto the bed. You follow his lead and join him on the pile of laundry that you’ll have to take care of at some point. But those thoughts were for later. Much later.

You lay together and bask in each other's presence. Jack curls around you like he had with your pillow before you found him and mirroring his movements you entangle your limbs with his until you don’t know where he begins and you end. You bury your face into his neck to breathe him in. You don’t need his enhanced sense of smell to notice how the scent of your favorite perfume that still clings to the fabric of your hoodie mingles with his own. You’re usually not the possessive kind and yet heat coils in your stomach.

You try to pull him even closer to you, only your clothes as a barrier between your two bodies. You want to feel his skin on yours but for now you are too comfortable just existing like this, with him curled around you and you curled around him in turn. A pleased sigh escapes Jack as you squeeze him tighter, his hands holding onto you like he never wants to let you go. And you return the sentiment. There is nothing that could come between you now, nothing that could make you let go of him. At least until you decide to strip Jack out of your favorite hoodie. 

[faggot-friday]

@gay-otlc you like Raeda angst don't you. Have some crack angst (crangst? aack?)

I've never been less sorry in my life

[underscorewriting]

burned breakfast.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, swearing

(realized that when I write for a character the first time it's almost always morning fluff lol)

798 Words

Soft music came from the kitchen, waking the in sheets tangled girl up slightly, causing a sleepy grin to split on her face. The bed now being cold, the morning breeze making goosebumps appear on her skin. The soft fabric of the shirt she wore, not barely enough to safe her from the cold tingling on her skin. Quiet singing now accompanying the music, making her open her eyes slightly with a quiet sigh she sat up, the covers falling from her form, causing her legs to freeze as well.

Noticing the open window, she couldn't help but quietly curse him for opening it after waking up. Closing it, she saw one of his sweaters had been laid out for her, making her forget her anger at the man for a second, but only for a second. Humming the music quietly she tapped into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway watching how he swayed his hips to the music, singing to it. His sweat pants hanging low as he concentrated on cooking breakfast. 

Smiling she made her way over to him, placing a soft kiss  onto his shoulder blade, causing him to tense up, before he relaxed into her touch. A smirk on his face as he turned around, grabbing her hands and spun her around to the song, singing to it loudly, making weird faces, causing her to laugh. "Slow down, stud." Trying to stop herself from smiling like an idiot. He just continued singing winking at her as he playfully fell to his knees in front of her pulling her closer by her waist. "Come on, baby. You're driving me crazy!" Giggling she raised an arm leaning back slightly, singing along with him. "Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" 

Laughing Bradley got up, still holding her close. "Fuck, you're really driving me crazy, honey." A grin on his face as he rested his forehead against hers. Shaking her head she rolled her eyes, pulling away first to go look at the eggs he just left unsupervised. "You know they could've burned down this whole house, just because you wanted to make a show." Feeling him wrap his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder as he softly kissed her neck, made her lean into him even more. 

"Mhm, you love my shows. Especially if I'm only wearing sweatpants, I learned that by now." He grinned as he shrugs. Taking the eggs off the stove, she leaned her head back, enough to catch his eyes. "You're not wrong about that, Rooster." With a playful wink she walked over to the fridge to get the orange juice, while he fixed them both a plate. "So, when do you have to leave again?" She cut to the serious topic as she sat down, one knee pulled to her chest as she got comfortable on her chair next to him, sighing he placed down the plates, kissing her forehead doing so. "In about two weeks. They don't know how long it's gonna take, but I hope it won't be too long. Mav said that if you get bored with me gone, you can help him with his planes." Smiling slightly he took a bite of his breakfast cringing at the burned taste.

Looking at him with an 'I told you so' look, he couldn't help but pout slightly. "We should go get something... and I should never cook again this tastes disgusting." Now it was her queue to pout while drinking her orange juice. "What?" He chuckled, admiring her. "But I like it when you cook." Raising his eyebrow he saw her pout twitch. "Okay I like watching you cook, it's cute." Laughing her pulled her onto his lap. "Good to know you keep me around because I'm 'cute'." 

"Basically, yes." 

"You're evil. Pure evil."

Getting up she rolled her eyes playfully. "You should get ready, you promised me eating breakfast out." Jumping up he threw her over his shoulder. "Whatever you say, my lady." Laughing she hit his back as he hit her ass in return. "Stop doing that." She pouted but stopped hitting him. "Good girl." A blush creeping onto her face as he laid her down on the bed, kissing her quickly. He walked over to her part of the closet, picking out something for her to wear. "You'll wear that." With a smirk he turned away to his side and started looking for something to wear as she put on the short flowery dress, walking to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

Walking out she smiled at him, as he fixed his hawaii shirt and put on his sunglasses, before he turned to her grinning down at her, causing her to smile up to him like an idiot. 

"Looking handsome, stud."

"Looking beautiful as ever, honey."

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

It’s been a while since I updated everyone on pregnancy watch lol. I’m currently 7 and a half month along, we had our baby shower and I received an overabundance of colored baby clothes of all sizes. I currently have a box of diapers waiting in the wings. They are mostly newborn and 1′s, but they should last a while because our baby girl is going to run on the small side like I did while my mother was pregnant.

I got a highchair at the shower and unfortunately that was the highest ticket item people decided to give. I’m very grateful to the woman who ended up giving that to me.

I’m getting nervous about birth, but everything else seems to be ok. Knock on wood there’s no issues. I’m so happy about the queue being raised to 1000 posts, because I am able to just be off the internet and relaxing instead of feeling the need to add pictures every day.

We have decided on a name, but I’m keeping that private, and also will not be showing pictures on tumblr for obvious reasons. I’m thinking she’s going to come with a full head of hair, the color of her father’s or at least very dark blonde. 

[morelikehoetchner]

Our Daughter

More blurbs from the ether of the dms I'll be posting up randomly. Again, none of these are really edited or anything like that. Just a stream of thoughts. Like I said before, I have a ton of these, so I'm probably going to put up a queue for them. I also take prompts :)

Hotch also wanted a girl. Thinks Jack would be an amazing big brother and he's a joy raising. But man. Hotch always kinda regretted not having a second kiddo. Then Reid is there. "You know. Adoption for two federal agents… they couldn't tell us no." and he's come prepared, brochures, research, statistics.

"She would be the safest baby adopted in the last 80 years," Spencer adds. "She?" Aaron looks up from the paperwork in front of him. "Aaron. You're an excellent profiler. I'm better."

Spencer is good with kids. But Hotch turns into a whole other person with that baby in his arms. Aaron Hotchner always felt like home. But this feels more like putting down his own roots. Jack is thrilled. A bit confused. But thrilled. Hotch had of course been right about him being an excellent big brother, viciously protective too.

When she starts walking. Reid thinks he's going to have a heart attack. "Was Jack like this?" He's lying on the floor, panting with Diana cooing in his arms. She had tried climbing the back of a kitchen chair. "You should have seen me when Jack climbed into the shower and got my shaving cream. Panicked and ended up slipping in the cream on the floor. Almost knocked myself out." "Wait you told us you got hit with a tree limb."

"My ego took a bigger hit than my skull."

Reid looks up at Diana. "Your papa is a typical alpha male. Can you say that?" Gives her a little playful jostle while she giggles. "Typical alpha male!" "Al-la" The men go very quiet and Spencer is still on his back, on the floor their daughter above him. "Reid… if you taught our daughter 'alpha' as her first word." "Oh my God, her first word. Di, can you say 'alpha'?" "Spencer, please," Hotch is sliding down onto the floor by his husband, grinning. "Al-la" she coos again around her fingers and Spencer beams with pride. Hotch has his head in his hands and he's laughing through a groan.

"Oh no," Spencer frowns slightly. "Jack's at camp. He's gonna be so mad he missed her first word." "Unless she says something else," Aaron reasons. "Anything else, sweetheart, please. For your papa. Any other word." He takes Diana off Spencer's hands and holds her against his side, giving her a little bounce. "What about da-da?" he tries.

"I don't think you can negotiate with infants, Aaron." All the while, Diana continues her little pleased chant of "al-la" over and over "I negotiated down a terrorist in Time Square." "Well, your daughter is going to be a bit more difficult." "Our daughter." Diana is still cooing and making little blubbery noises. "Yeah," and Spence looks at him from the floor as he brings the little girl to his chest. "Our daughter."

[moralesispunk]

Standing up for their daughter

For Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno, Pero Tovar and Marcus Pike

x Female Reader (established relationship with child)

based on this post I made the other day (it was quite long so I did it with fewer characters but if you want me to do another with others then I can do a part II!)

Frankie 

You were at work when Frankie got the call into school because your daughter had been “violent” with another pupil. Frankie’s head was racing the whole drive there, wondering what had happened and hoping his baby girl was okay but ready to give her into trouble if need be. When he walked into the principals office, she were sitting on one of the chairs in front of the desk, an empty one next to her for him. She started to talk but he silently told her to wait, looking to the principal and asking what had happened.

“Your daughter pushed Alexander over in the playground today. The poor boy has cut all down his leg.”

Frankie looked at his little girl, waiting for an explanation to this from his usually quiet and peaceful daughter.

“He was pulling my hair dad! He chased me around the playground and didn’t stop pulling my hair even though I asked him to stop!”

Frankie was angry but managed to keep it inside as he turned back around to the principal.

“And what is happening to Alexander?”

“Well, he is fine the nurse had a look at-”

“No. What punishment is he receiving for tormenting my daughter?”

“You know what boys are like, he was just teasing her. Probably means he likes her. There was no need for your daughter to get that violent with him.”

“I am going to take my daughter out of school for the rest of the day and my wife can come back and talk to you tomorrow because I don’t trust my temper right now,” Frankie said calmly, “that boy needs punished for the way he treated my daughter and she should not be punished for defending herself. I suggest you have a think about that before you talk to the boys parents and before you try and give my daughter into trouble again. Let’s go, honey.”

Frankie took your daughter���s hand, walking with her out of the office. On the way the by the boy and his parents Frankie hands his daughter the keys to his truck and tells her he’ll be there soon. When she is out of sight he turns to the parents, telling them teach your boy some manners, my daughter expects a full apology before walking off again. He takes her out for ice cream, telling her that while he doesn’t condone violence she was right not to let him continue to act like that. That night the boy and his parents arrive at the door, a full apology given from him to your wee girl.

Din 

Your youngest daughter came and found Din, saying the oldest had been in a fight with one of the boys in the covert. Din took her hand, letting her lead the way to the circle of children that had formed. A boy he had recognised from around the covert was lying on the ground, his daughter standing over him with her arms crossed.

"Alright, enough,” Din walked through the sea of tiny bodies that started to run off in different directions when he arrived, “what happened?”

Just as Din placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation, the boys father arrived.

“He kept pinching me, he wouldn’t stop and so I made him stop,” your oldest daughter shrugged.

“Ah, he was just teasing,” the other Mando helped his son up.

“He wasn’t teasing!” you daughter sighed, exasperated. 

Din turned his helmet to his daughter, warning her to stay quiet as he dealt with the situation.

“He must have a liking for your girl, Mando! You remember what it was like,” the other man reached over and placed a hand on Din’s shoulder.

“No. Teach your son some manners or I’ll teach my daughter to hit him back harder next time,” Din said simply, his hand still holding onto the hand of your youngest and the other reaching our for your oldest. 

The man and his son stared silently as Din walked off with his two girls, waiting until they were round the corner to ruffle your oldest hair. 

“I think I hurt my hand when I punched him,” your daughter shook the pain out.

“Well I guess we better take tomorrow to perfect your punch,” he said, the smile in his voice clear.

Marcus M

When he gets a phone call at work from Missy’s school his mind is in instant panic mode and that panic doesn’t settle by much when he is told by Missy’s teacher that she punched a boy. Marcus excuses himself from work and heads straight to the school, walking straight to the principals office. Missy is sitting in the corner on a chair, obviously upset and next to a boy holding an ice pack to his face, with the parent’s mother and the principal watching him as he walks in.

“Thank you for coming Mr Moreno. I’m sure you are as surprised as we are with this, Missy is usually a very quiet but polite girl,” the principal began.

Marcus nodded, waiting for him to continue.   

“Missy will be suspended of course, for this unprovoked attack on another student, and will be expected to write an essay on her actions.”

“Is this true Missy?” Marcus turned and looked at his daughter.

“I did punch him yes,” Missy began and Marcus sighed, “but only because he kept pulling my hair in class and pinching my arm. I told him to stop and he didn’t. I told my teacher and she said to ignore him but he kept doing it. I told him if he did it again I would punch him. He did and so I punched him.”

Marcus kept his face straight and stern, something he had learned from Heroic training and turned back to the principal.

“Well, from what I see, Missy gave him fair warning,” Marcus kept his tone neutral.

“Mr Moreno,” the principal sighed.

“She hit my son!” the woman next to him screeched.

“And your son pulled my daughter’s hair and pinched her,” Marcus raised his eyebrow, “I am not happy with my daughter raising her hands in a classroom and we will have a talk, but unless this boy is also being suspended and writing an essay on his actions and his mother is prepared to talk with him about his disgusting manners then Missy will be in school, 9am sharp tomorrow.”

The principal and mother stared at Marcus mouth agape for a moment before nodding.

“They can both be in school tomorrow,” the principal sighed.

“And I am prepared to come in and teach the young boys of this school a lesson on what no means, as it seems the school and parents are not teaching them an important lesson. Let’s go Missy,” Marcus stood and waited for Missy to follow him out.

And that is exactly what Marcus did. Missy was at school the next day, head held high after the both of you made her feel better about the situation, and two days later Marcus gave a lesson to the whole school on no means no.

Pero

Pero took your and his baby girl with him to the market to give you some much needed alone time. As he wandered around the stalls he had his large hand wrapped around her small one to keep her close, ruffling her hair and sending funny faces her way whenever they had to queue for meat or vegetables. When he turned to face the butcher to pay him with coins, he heard a fuss behind him but ignored it until his baby girl yelped and there was a thud on the ground.

His head whizzed around and he seen his little girl holding onto the back of his tunic and a boy a little bigger than her on the ground.

“She pushed me!” the little boy whined.

“He pulled my hair first!” your baby girl explained.

“Sounds like you learned your lesson, don’t annoy little girls or they’ll hit back,” Pero chuckled at the boy, lifting the meat he had just bought from the counter and walking with his little girl in his hand away from the stall, “very good, my love.”

Marcus P

Marcus was always a favourite with the mums at birthday parties and you always joked you shouldn’t send him alone. This week there was a birthday party of another girl in your daughters class and since you had a day out with your friends planned, Marcus would take her. When he showed up, the back-garden was full of children screaming and bouncing on the bouncy castle, all the mums and one other dad standing about the kitchen.

He was talking to the other dad when all the parents attentions were grabbed by a yelp coming from the bouncy castle. One of the wee boys was sitting in the middle, looking up at your daughter as everyone else jumped up and down.

Marcus and the other man left the kitchen, walking over to see what was going on.

“She pushed me down!” the boy shouted to his dad.

“He kept pulling on my hair!”

The man next to Marcus chuckled and Marcus shot him a glare as he lifted his daughter from the bouncy castle.

“Looks like someone has a crush.”

“Looks like someone needs to be taught some manners,” Marcus shot back, carrying his daughter into the kitchen for a drink leaving the other man and his son staring as they walked away.

If the rest of the mums didn’t find your husband attractive before then they sure did now, all of them saying a chorus of someone had to tell him, and he lets his son get away with that with all our daughters but we never knew what to say. After this catch Marcus having a strong one-on-one chat with the man later telling him to teach his son not to bother little girls like that or he will become a dangerous young man.

//

Permanent tag list // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @evyiione

[faggot-friday]

hAPPY 2023 MOTHERFUCKERS

[nurse-buckley]

Vaccination Day

Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 1,422 Pairing: Eddie x Reader  Warnings: Mentions of the pandemic and needles.  Summary: You get nervous when it’s yours and Eddie’s turn for the vaccine, but he’s right there by your side.  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz, @fireladybuckley, @pupandangelscoffee, @winterreader-nowwriter, @dayrin085  Written for my lovely @firemedicdiaz​ and beta’d by the amazing @evanbuckos​

“Hey, I thought I’d find you here.” Eddie announces as he pokes his head around the doors to the open ambulance. 

You were busy taking stock and restocking the rig after the last call you’d been on. You were hoping Eddie would forget about your appointment later that day, but unfortunately for you, you weren’t that lucky. 

Deep down, you knew that you needed the vaccine, and it was one step closer to being back to ”normal”, whatever “normal” would be after the pandemic dies down and life returns to normal. 

“I spoke to Bobby, told him we’re going for our vaccines this afternoon and he’s given us the time off,” he smiles. He’s been excited ever since he got the notification through that the pair of you could book in for your first dose. He was constantly scared of passing on the virus to Chris or abuela, and knew this was the first step in reducing that fear. 

His smile falters when he sees your expression. You’re refusing to meet his eyes, focussing on the task at hand. “Y/N? I thought you’d be excited.” 

“Yeah? Excited to be stuck with a huge needle, I’m thrilled,” you snap. You immediately regret your reaction, softening your features as you finally meet Eddie’s gaze. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” 

Eddie shook his head, stepping closer to you and joining you in the rig. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? You’ve been quiet all morning, you’re not acting like yourself.” 

“I’m just stressed and anxious. The pandemic, the endless calls, the covid anxiety.” 

“Shh,” the firefighter soothes as he takes your hands in his. “Take a deep breath for me.” 

You do as he says, following the deep rise and fall of his chest as he exaggerates his breathing for you to follow. You follow his actions for a few minutes, feeling slightly more relaxed as you continue the breathing exercise. “Good girl,” he soothes, smiling as your breath comes slightly easier. 

“Is there anything else that’s bothering you that you want to get off your mind, maybe I can help.” 

You sigh, deciding how you were going to explain your anxieties, knowing yourself they’re not always logical, but anxiety often overrules logic. 

“I know, scientifically, exactly how this vaccine works. I also know statistically that the odds of a serious reaction are less than 0.04% yet my brain won’t stop screaming at me, ‘you’re going to be that 1 in a million’ Eddie,” you choke out the last statement, as the tears begin to fall freely.  

“Mi amor,” he began, moving your chin so he could meet your eyes. “That isn’t going to be you. Logical Y/N knows that, we just need to convince anxious Y/N as well.” 

“It’s going to take a horse’s dose of Ativan to get me through that door.” 

“We can sort that. We’ll get you something to calm your nerves, and we’ll go from there okay? Baby steps.” 

You nod, breathing a little easier now you’d voiced your fears and shared them with Eddie; no longer having them constantly swirling in your head. 

You walk through the doors to the clinic, stopping short as you see the small queue of people in front of you signing in. Eddie senses your hesitation, guiding you forward with a hand on your back, gently coaxing you forward without feeling like you were being pushed into the situation against your will. 

Despite the hand guiding you forward, your feet stay planted on the ground. Eddie takes your hand, moving you to the side for some privacy. He leans down to meet your gaze, placing his hands either side of your arms to ground you. “You’ve got this, I’m going to be right with you the whole time,” he whispers, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

He can see the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over and his heart breaks. “Cariño, nothing is going to happen, I promise.” He says in attempts to comfort you. 

“Do you want me to go first?” the firefighter asks. 

You nod fiercely, not trusting yourself to speak. 

Eddie holds out a hand to you, giving you the option to take it. You do, holding on tightly as if your life depended on it. He guides you to the check in, signing you both in with the volunteer on the front desk before moving to the waiting area to take your seat. 

The way your knee was bouncing up and down didn’t escape the other man. He places his hand over your knee to stop the bouncing, his large warm hand covering your knee and bringing you some comfort. You grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly in return. 

“What do you want for dinner after this? We can order in pizza or get takeout from that place you like?”  

You knew what he was trying to do, and you thanked him for the distraction and incentive to get through the vaccination. A few minutes after discussing what the pair of you would be tucking into when you both got home, you were called forward to the nurse who’d be administering your vaccine. A volunteer made an attempt to split you up, but after seeing the death grip you had on the man, they relented, sending you both to the next room that had been freed.  

The nurse's eyes crinkled over her mask, clearly smiling if it weren’t for the PPE obscuring her features. “Alright, who’s going first then?” 

Eddie smiled, raising his free hand in the air, “that’ll be me.” 

“Actually....” you speak up from beside him, “Can-Can I go first? I’m afraid if I see you go first I’ll run.” 

Eddie lets out a chuckle at your confession, but gives you a look to show how extremely proud he was of you for stepping forward of your own accord. He holds out a hand for you, guiding you down into the seat. “Do you mind if I stay with her? Hold her hand, we’re a little nervous.” 

The nurse smiles, shaking her head, “of course, don’t be silly. You’re not the first and definitely not going to be the last who’s anxious today!” 

Eddie kneels beside your chair, turning your chin so you’re locked on his eyes. “Just focus on me, alright? Nothing else matters.” 

You suck in a shaky breath as you hear the nurse beside you uncapping the syringe, no doubt drawing up the medicine. He continued his distraction, talking about everything and anything that popped into his mind. He wished he had Buck with him at this moment, his endless useless knowledge and facts would have been great, but he isn’t completely inept when it comes to trivia. 

“A little cold,” you hear the nurse from beside you as she lifts your shirt sleeve and swipes the cool alcohol swab over your exposed skin. 

Eddie smiled, “just look at me, alright. Deep breath.” 

“Little pinch,” the nurse announces, waiting until you exhaled to insert the needle. 

Before you know it, you hear the clink of the empty syringe being placed into the sharps bin behind you and a plaster being placed over the pinprick. 

“There we are, all done!” the nurse announces. 

You shakily release the breath, smiling at Eddie letting out a small giddy laugh. You knew better than anyone that anxiety often made simple tasks seem insurmountable, but just as Eddie had promised, he stayed with you the entire time. 

The nurse smiles at the interaction as she cleans up and prepares the next dose for Eddie. Allowing you to calm down from the ordeal before she asks for Eddie to take a seat. You swap positions, knowing he didn’t need it but held Eddie’s hand through his vaccination, just like he’d done for you. 

The nurse gives you your appointment cards for your scheduled second doses along with the information leaflet from the vaccine, covering any side effects you should look out for. Eddie takes them both, pocketing them, knowing if you were to look at them you’d likely work yourself up. The pair of you are sent out into the waiting room, with instruction to wait for ten minutes to ensure there were no side effects. When the ten minutes are up, you and Eddie walk out hand in hand, your thoughts on the delicious meal you were going to reward yourself with when you get home.

[wholesomemendes]

Omg congrats on 1k🥳🥳 concept- a blurb about love languages and like ur guys styles are diff lil angst pls heheheh

Author's Note: Hiiiiiii. How are you lovies? I know you probably all hate me cause I just disappeared but hopefully this will kinda make up for it for those of you who are actually still here. Fun fact never used the queue before so we'll see how that goes. Also I vaguely remember the read more thing not working that well with asks, but I don't remember what I used to do to fix that so hopefully this works. Love all of you and miss you *mwah* please interact with me so I get more motivation lol

The second the door shuts to the condo you share with your love, you can already hear his unmistakable voice call out for you, “Baby, come here! I have a surprise for you!” You roll your eyes, knowing that some insanely expensive gift was probably waiting for you around that corner. Shawn wasn’t the type to randomly spend a large portion of his money on things he didn’t need, but when it came to you, there was no limit to his spending. Anytime he saw something that reminded him of you or that he thought you’d look stunning in, he couldn’t stop himself from swiping his card. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate the copious amount of gifts he gave you; you knew he meant well and that one of his love languages was giving gifts. However, as someone who was raised to be independent and not accept “handouts” from anyone, you found it hard to be constantly given things you didn’t work for and you didn’t believe you deserved yet. You didn’t find it fair that you weren’t at that stage in your life where you could gift Shawn something as expensive as what he gives you, but you constantly get those things from him. It wouldn’t have phased you as much if it was just for holidays, but this was an almost every other day occurrence and no matter how many times you told him not to buy things for you, he never seemed to listen.

You sighed, putting your purse on the table and making your way towards the bedroom, desperately wishing you could just relax into a warm bath after your hard day at work instead of facing whatever your loving boyfriend had in store for you. Opening the door you were met with Shawn’s smiling face, a large box with the word Gucci written in bold lettering across it. You put on a fake smile as your heart sank. This couldn’t be what you thought it was could it? “Hey,” he put the box next to him in favor of pulling you onto his lap, “How was work today?” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips and for a moment, you let yourself get pulled into the utter bliss that was Shawn Mendes.

“I won’t lie, not the greatest,” you sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Why, what happened?” he asked, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer.

“It was just insane today and my boss was in a bad mood and...I don’t know it was just bad and I’m exhausted.”

“Well, I think I have something that might cheer you up!”

“Shawn…,” you said in a mix of a whine and a stern tone, “I told you no more.”

“I know, I know,” he rushed out, placing the box in your hands, “I just want to spoil my girl. I can afford to do so and there’s no one else that deserves it more than you do.” It hurt your heart to hear him talk like that when not a single part of you felt you deserved it. You were nowhere close to where you wanted to be in your life career wise and you certainly weren’t near Shawn’s level of success. “Just open it, please?” he gave you his softest puppy dog eyes that always made you cave.

“Ok…” Opening up the box your heart stopped. There lying in the delicate paper was one of the most beautiful handbags you had ever seen; the one you had secretly been saving up for for almost a year now. You thought you had hid it from him so well, always looking at it when he wasn’t there to make sure you could still get it, and even putting together a small envelope of extra money to use towards it. This was supposed to be your first big designer purchase in honor of your huge promotion at work a little under a year ago today, but of course Shawn had to go and ruin it all for you.

Meanwhile, Shawn was oblivious to the disappointment and resentment brewing inside of you. “Do you like it?” he asked with the biggest smile, “I noticed the tab open on your computer last week when I borrowed it for those pictures and thought you liked it!”

“Why would you do this?” you whispered, a crack forming in your voice.

“What?”

“Why would you do this?” you almost snapped at him, looking at him with tears that held mixed emotions.

“B- because I love you,” he stammered, not having prepared to have this reaction. In his head you were going to come home, see the gift, smother him in thank you kisses, and maybe, just maybe, you would make love to him for the rest of the night. Never in his wildest dreams did it end up like this.

“If you loved me you would have listened to me and not bought this, or anything for that matter!” you exclaimed as you stood up off his lap, “I’ve told you so many times I don’t want you buying anything for me but you never listen!”

“I- I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“No that’s the thing, you didn’t think! I just- god, Shawn, this was it, the one thing I was going to do for myself after all these years. I was only $100 away from my goal, I was right there! But you can’t just think with your head for one second and think about how your girlfriend who always tells you that you don’t need to buy things for her might be planning on finally achieving one of her goals of having enough money to spend it on something like this!”

If your eyes weren’t filled with tears and you weren’t so blinded by your emotions you might have been able to see Shawn’s heart visibly breaking on the bed, leaving him looking like a hurt puppy. “I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll, I’ll return the bag or or you can pay me back for it so it’s like you bought it yourself!”

“You don’t understand because you’ve never had any problems with money. It’s not the same anymore, Shawn. No matter what, all I’ll be reminded of is that you bought it first and not me.”

“What can I do? I, I swear I’ll do anything,” his voice cracked as his own tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t know. I need to go.” You knew you were being dramatic, but after 2 years of the same thing with Shawn over and over again you had reached your breaking point.

“No please, I’ll fix this I promise,” he pleaded, standing up to face you.

You successfully avoided him so you could grab a small bag with your things, “Shawn, I need space for at least one night.”

He reached out for you this time, his large hand grabbing your arm desperately to turn you around, “Please, don’t go. I won’t buy you anything else, I swear!”

“It’s not that I just, I don’t know. I’m upset and I’m tired and my head is all over the place and…” His large hands cupped your jaw and pressed his lips hard against yours, giving you no space to pull away. The slight taste of salt from both of your tears on your lips broke your heart more than it was before. It was hard to explain why you weren’t fighting him on this kiss; it was almost as if he was kissing you so that it was easier to let you go for the night.

His lips released yours reluctantly with a sigh, “I’ll pack my things for the night. You stay here.”

“Shawn…”

“No, I was the one who messed up so I should be the one who has to leave. I still have a backpack I never unpacked from when I got back from LA last week and I can stay with my parents for however long you want. I- ,” he looked down shamefully, his hands finally dropping from your face. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy, but I wasn’t even thinking of what would really make you happy. Just, just tell me when you’re ready for me to come back home.”

He made his way through the bedroom, grabbing his phone, wallet, backpack and guitar before making his way through the door. Your heart cried out to go after your love, but your feet stayed planted almost in shock of everything that just happened. You were still mad at him, upset with him, and if it was possible, even more upset and mad at yourself. So as much as you wanted to run after him, you let him walk away with half your heart in his hands.

____________________________

“Mom?” you sniffled as you sat on the edge of your bed, the infamous handbag discarded next to you as if it was taunting you.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” the soft voice of your mother filled the speaker.

“I messed up,” you confessed, “I really messed up and I don’t...I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath, dear, and tell me what happened. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“I don’t know if it can. I’m a horrible person!”

“You are not a horrible person. Now tell me exactly what happened.”

She listed carefully as a mother does while you went through moment through moment of your lash out with Shawn, up until the point where he left. “I feel terrible, Mom. This was just the one thing I had planned to do for myself and he never took into account how I would feel about this even though I constantly tell him how I feel about gift giving.”

“Sweetheart, I know you so badly want to be an independent woman and there’s nothing wrong with that. But you’re in a relationship now which means not everything you do can be independent. Think about it from his point of view: all of these things he gets you he gets out of love. He doesn’t do it because he wants you to rely on him for money, he knows you’re not with him for that and it’s probably one of the reasons he loves you so much; you treat him like a regular person. Not someone who is just a pretty face that can buy you whatever you want and get you fame. However, he is someone with money and that means he can afford these things for you. It’s not to belittle any of your accomplishments in your career or financially because we both know how supportive he is of you. It’s simply because he wants to show you he’s thinking about you and spoil you to make you happy. I know gifts aren’t one of your main love languages, but it’s definitely one of his. I bet if you had told him about this bag and how much it meant to you instead of hiding it from him, he would have never dreamed of taking it away from you. I understand your immediate frustration, but maybe think about if you’re truly upset with him about this or if you’re upset with yourself for not being able to reciprocate.”

“You’re right, Mom.”

“Of course I’m right, I’m your mother!” she let out a light hearted laugh, “But seriously, go apologize to that boy. He’s probably beating himself up over this.”

____________________________

“Are you and Dad home right now?”

“Yes, why is something wrong?”

“Can’t I just be coming over to say hello?”

“Of course you can, but I can tell by your voice that something is wrong.”

A sad smile formed on his face at the fact that even over a car speaker, his mom was still able to read him like a book. “Y/n and I got into a fight.”

“Oh no,” his mother gasped, never hearing many difficulties between the two, “What happened?”

“It’s my fault, Mom, I was being selfish,” he replied defeated, his guilty heart weighing down on him, “You know how I love to give gifts right? Well, Y/n isn’t always the biggest fan of it because she loves being independent. But I can’t help it! She’s the first person who hasn’t been overjoyed over every gift I give her and I never understand because I just want her to be happy and I know they’re things she would like so...I just don’t think! I don’t know why I can’t take a hint and just do what she wants me to do! I just want to make her happy, Mom, and feel loved and all I’ve done is annoy her and upset her!”

“Ok, before you keep going on this self-deprecated spiral, I need you to tell me what happened. And no more blaming yourself until I’ve heard everything.” So he did. And just like the conversation unfolding back at his home, his own mother listened to every word he had to say.

“From my understanding,” she began, “And I’m not saying this to try to defend you, but it sounds like she is battling some problems of her own.”

“No, you don’t understand, I wasn’t listening to her…”

“Oh will you hush! I wasn’t finished. Could you lay off the gifts and make them every once in a while? Of course. However, I believe her outburst today had something to do with some financial conflicts she is facing and maybe just an overall bad mood. You’re not perfect, obviously you need to tone down the gifts just a little bit, but you were definitely not in the full wrong here. There was no way she could have expected you to know about her intentions and plans so you can’t blame that on yourself. She definitely felt that she had to hide it from you in fear that you wouldn’t listen, which might be another issue if she believes that you aren’t willing to budge on your point of view. But you should not go beating yourself up over this! She’ll come around to her senses and you two will be fine.”

“Thank you, Mom. I hope so, I miss her already,” Shawn pouted, wishing so desperately that he was driving back home instead of away from it.

“Of course. Now I’ll make sure your room is all ready for whenever you get here and I’ll stay up to give you a big hug. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, I’ll be there in…” the sight of your name popping up on his center console broke him from his thoughts, “Wait, Mom, she’s calling me. I’ll call you back.”

“Good luck honey!”

With shaky hands, he hit answer on the phone, “Shawn?”

Even just hearing his name out of your mouth brought him comfort, “Yes? Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean I’m not fine, but physically I’m fine. Anyways, I’m going to ramble so I’ll just try to say this quick before I stray too far away from what I was going to say and before I get myself even more worked up again because who knows how long…”

“Y/n,” he stopped you, knowing you would ramble on forever, “Why did you call me?”

“Please come home.” His heart nearly lept out of his chest at your words, not needing to hear anymore. “I’m so sorry, Shawn. I should never have lashed out at you and…”

“Don’t say anything else. I don’t want to do this over the phone. I love you, please don’t apologize and I’ll be home in half an hour.”

“But, Shawn…”

“I love you and I’ll see you soon.” With that he hung up the phone and sped his way back through the Toronto streets to the girl he loved most.

____________________________

The second you heard the door open you ran to launch your body into his arms, abandoning your previous post of walking holes in the floor. He gladly accepted you against him, holding you tight in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” you pleaded, new tears rimming at your eyes, “Please forgive me.”

“Shushh, we both can apologize in a second. I just want to hold you.” Shawn maneuvered the two of you back onto your bed with you in his lap, still clinging onto him for dear life. He felt your tears wetting his shirt and while it broke his heart to know you were

hurting, he hoped that being close to you for these few more moments would show that he wasn’t mad at you. After a couple minutes passed, he loosened his grasp on you, “Y/n look at me.” You did as told, revealing your tearful eyes to him. “I’m not mad at you,” he promised as he wiped your tears away, “I’m not upset with you in any way. I forgive you for whatever you feel you need to be forgiven for and I hope you can say the same with me.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you protested, “You did nothing but try to show me love and make me happy and I’m so sorry I couldn’t look past my own selfish issues. Talking with my mom made me realize that the reason I have always been so apprehensive to receiving your gifts is because I’m not at the point in my career that I thought I would be and I'm letting out my resentment at myself on you. I know how wrong that is of me and I am so sorry for it. There’s nothing wrong with you expressing your love through gifts and I can’t express how sorry I am for making you believe that you were the issue.”

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have talked with you about this and taken into account how you didn’t respond the same way as my friends and family when I give them things and should have taken a step back. I realize my gifts are excessive and I will work to tone them back so they are more special. I love you, Y/n. Even being away from you for an hour after a fight was too much for me to bear.”

“I love you, too. I hated being away from you more than anything.” He kissed your lips passionately, transferring every emotion he had for you into that kiss. Hands caressed your body as yours held him tighter in fear of him disappearing and neither of you wanted to relive this night ever again. “Shawn?” you whispered against his lips, receiving a hum in response, “Thank you for the bag. I can’t wait to tell everyone how my loving and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me.”

“You don’t have to, I can return it.”

“Return it? This is my dream bag and the fact that you wanted to get it for me because you could tell I wanted it means a lot even though I had the absolute worst way of showing it.”

“Stop,” he kissed you again, “I don’t want you to worry about it any longer. Let me just love on you how I had planned tonight.” And while it might not have been the way Shawn had planned the night to go, he was ending it exactly how he wanted to.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 27 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves! Just a reminder that this chapter is posting from the queue as I am on vacation--- I will be checking in periodically but less active than usual and not updating the tag list! Hope y’all enjoy this one :)

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

contains: food mention, hangover mention, discussion of parenting, canon-typical mentions of violence

wordcount: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, you’re somewhere between completely refreshed and wickedly hungover. You need a bacon egg and cheese on an everything bagel and a big cup of coffee stat if you are going to get anything at all done today. Aaron, of course, must have gotten up hours ago, and has long past left the bedroom by the time you rise at nearly 11. When you roll to get out of  bed, you notice that he’s left you advil, water, and a sleeve of saltines just in case you were feeling nauseous. You smiled, sitting up gingerly to sip at the water and take the pills. Once you were sure your stomach was fine, you slid out of bed and found Jack and Aaron in the kitchen, cooking up bacon and frying eggs while The Beatles played in the background. The boys hadn’t noticed you yet, and you decided not to call attention to yourself-- taking the moment to commit this mental image to memory, of Jack on his father’s hip, Aaron rocking back and forth as he pushed scrambled eggs around a frying pan, smiling and giggling and not thinking about work or serial killers or the next time he’d be pulled away.

When the song fades out, Aaron looks up, seeing you leaning against the doorway to the hall. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” He asks, looking you up and down for signs of a hangover. 

“I’m okay. I’ll be better after breakfast,” you tell him. “And a big hug from my favorite Hotchner!” You add, crossing the kitchen and taking Jack from his father, shooting Aaron a knowing glance that said “I’m pretty sure physical therapy didn’t clear you for that. Especially not after last night.” 

“I cracked the eggs. There’s no shells in them, Mom.” Jack says, and the world stops. He doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s slipped up, but Aaron and you both freeze, whipping your heads to look at each other with equally bewildered glances. 

“I’m sure you did a great job, buddy!” You tell Jack, after a moment that feels like hours, not wanting to ignore him but not quite sure how to address what had happened, and Aaron wasn’t being much help. 

“Breakfast is ready,” Aaron says, handing you exactly what you needed-- a bacon and egg sandwich, along with a hashbrown, some fruit, and a big cup of coffee. 

“You might be the perfect man.” You tell him gratefully, and he smirks at you as the three of you sit down at the table and eat.  

You and Aaron make casual conversation for a little while before Jack poses a question. “Dad, can we take my kite out today?” Jack asks as he spears a sausage link on his fork. 

“It’s not really windy enough to fly a kite today, buddy, but we can go for a bike ride or play some soccer if you want,” Aaron responds before taking a sip of coffee. 

“And we’ll all go?” Jack asks, looking across the table at you. 

“Of course,” you tell him. “We’ll all go to the park with you.” 

“Okay. Can I be excused?” He asks, and Aaron nods. 

“Go ahead, just make sure you wash your hands and your face. You’ve got syrup everywhere,” He chuckles, and Jack scoots out his chair and leaves the table. 

As soon as Jack is out of eyesight, you speak up. “So, are we gonna talk about that, or what?” You say in a hushed tone, not wanting Jack to overhear. 

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Aaron says. 

“Neither did I,” you assure him. 

“Are you upset?” Aaron asks, a furrow in his brow that just about broke your heart. Silly, silly man. 

“No, of course not. Not if you aren’t.” You assure him. 

“I just… he can’t forget Haley. He’s all that is left of her.” Aaron says with a deep sigh, and your eyes well up in tears. 

“No, Aaron, he hasn’t and he won’t. We won’t let him.” You say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “And if you don’t want him to call me Mom, I understand.” 

“That’s not it. It’s just… bringing a lot up for me, is all.” He says. 

“That’s normal, honey. You should think about it for a while, maybe talk about it just with him. No matter what you decide, you’re not going to disappoint me or him. But it’s okay to need some time with this.” You say, standing up to wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to the junction of his shoulder and his neck. 

“Thank you, for understanding me and for respecting her.” he tells you, raising one hand to cover yours where they met over his heart, craning his neck to leave a kiss on your wrist. 

“Baby, have you seen my phone?” You asked, realizing that you haven’t checked it all morning. 

“It’s charging next to mine on the bedside table. You were having a little trouble with the charger when we got in last night,” he chuckles at the memory of your drunken antics from the night before. 

You go into the other room to grab your phones, noticing that you have two missed calls from Penelope--- you only just missed her. You dial her back as you head back towards the kitchen to help Aaron clean up. 

“Where are you right now?” Garcia asks you as soon as the line connects, and your face twists up in confusion as you put your plate in the dishwasher. 

“I’m at Aaron’s place, where are you?” You ask, not understanding her line of questioning. 

“Is Jack in the room with you?” 

“Garcia, what’s going on?”  You ask, starting to get nervous. Aaron turns to face you, sensing your anxiety and you place a hand on his forearm for support. 

“Last night, when we were all at the bar, a girl was kidnapped, who based on the description, looks a hell of a lot like you. A neighbor saw the guy, and based on the he neighbor’s description--

“It looks like Josh,” you finished Garcia’s sentence, and you felt Aaron tense under your fingers. He puts his palm out, silently asking for your phone, and you pass it to him without even telling Garcia that you were putting him on. 

You were scared, terrified even, but you knew that the best thing you could do right then was be a profiler. You left Aaron to settle the details, and went into his bedroom to find something work-appropriate to wear. By the time you came back out, Aaron was off the phone. 

“I called the rest of the team in, they’re going to meet us at the office. We’re going to get this loser, and we’re going to get him today,” Aaron lets out, and you nod.

“I’ll take Jack over to Jess’s,” you say, turning back towards Jack’s room, and he stopped you. 

“No. You stay with me. Jess is on her way,” Aaron says, and she knocks at the door at the next moment. “I just told her that we got called in,” he tells you as he answers the door. 

“Morning, guys,” she says as she steps in, entirely too chipper for the terror that’s rolling through your stomach in waves. “Duty calls, right?” She smiles at you, and you use all the power you have to muster a smile back. 

“Yeah, even at the worst times,” you’re impressed that you strung that many words together. 

“Any idea when you’ll be back?” She asks, and you shake your head. 

“We’ve really got to go,” Aaron says, coming back into the room with Jack, who gives you and his father both hugs before you have to leave. You squeeze him extra tight before Aaron ushers you out of the apartment and towards the car. 

“I am not going to let anything happen to you.” Aaron tells you after a few moments of tense, silent driving. 

“I know,” you say noncommittally, and it’s back to silence. 

“You can’t go in the field.” You both say after a moment. 

“Darling, you have to understand--” 

“No, Aaron, it’s not even up for debate. You’re out because of your leg, and JJ is pregnant. The team needs me, and I can’t sit this one out because either one of us is emotional about it,” You argue, and Aaron heaves a sigh. 

“I wish Elle were here. Josh wouldn’t even still be a problem.” Aaron grumbles out, and despite yourself, you burst out laughing. Aaron’s shocked at first by your reaction, but after a moment, he lets out a laugh, too. 

“Aaron, that’s awful. You were upset with Elle for months, even after she left. You’re better than that.” You say, still smiling even though it really wasn’t funny at all. 

“Yeah, well, when you hobbled out to my car with a black eye, I think I began to understand Elle a little bit better than I did at the time.” Aaron tells you. 

You think of the girl Josh has taken now-- being punished only for the sin of resembling you. No doubt she had her own black eye to match yours, plus god only knows what else at this point, nearly twelve hours after being taken. You swallowed thickly. After a moment, you speak up again.

“You knew that this was going to happen, didn’t you?” You ask quietly-- it’s a genuine question, not an accusation, but it still breaks Aaron’s heart. “That’s why you weren’t excited or relieved like I was when he got arrested.”

“I knew it was a possibility,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to say anything to you, because there was no way to know-- and I didn’t want you to have to keep living in fear,” he explains.

 “I’m gonna get this son of a bitch,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Aaron. 

The team is already waiting for the two of you in the roundtable room while you arrive, although there’s really no need to brief, so you all launch into a profile while Garcia digs for more information. 

“What do we know about the unsub?” Aaron asks the team.

“He’s a power-seeker. He uses physical force as a method of coercion.” Morgan says, and Reid scribbles his statement onto a whiteboard. 

“He doesn’t react well when challenged--- his demeanor completely changed when he came here and Hotch went after him.” Emily adds. 

“True, but he had no problem going toe-to-toe with Morgan.” JJ contradicts. 

“Based on the message he left with the flowers, he’s displaying early indicators of stalking behavior. If that’s escalated far enough, it’s possible that Josh might really believe that the woman that he’s taken is Y/N.” Spencer says, and you nod. For her sake, you hoped not. He had a hell of a lot of pent up anger towards you, and you didn’t want this poor girl to take the brunt of it. 

“What’s her name?” You asked, quietly, and with everyone talking over you, you almost think no one hears you, until Aaron leans in a little closer. 

“What’s that, darling?” He asks. 

“What’s her name?” You say again, and his brow furrows in confusion. 

“Who’s name?”

“The girl who’s taking the beating with my name on it right now,” you spit out, and the rest of the team stops talking over you. “The least I can do is learn her name and go talk to her parents.” You say, packing your stuff up.

“Her name is Anna Reardon. We’ll send the address to your phone,” Emily tells you, and you turn on your heel and walk out. 

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse

[avintagekiss24]

APPEARANCES || FRANK ADLER

pairing: Frank Adler x black!reader || word count: 5,898 || warnings: smut, sex, slight ass play, a little bit of dirty talk, swearing || request: your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere during a downpour and Frank comes to you rescue 

authors note: fic number #2 for the 4k celebration! this was requested by @stargazingfangirl18​! hope you like, babe! line divider by @firefly-graphics​​!

“Uncle Frank, where are you?”

You smile gently as Mary’s words hit your ears. You send your eyes towards her as she talks on your phone, pacing slowly, her little fingers playing with the hem of her Girls Scout vest. You hear a deep, muffled voice on the other end and turn your eyes back to the laptop in your lap, continuing to tap away at the keys.

“Okay, okay… yes… no… okay… I will… okay, bye.” She plops down next to you, holding out her hand containing your phone,  “He’s on his way. He said thanks for sitting with me.”

You wave her off, winking, “I owe you for all the help you’ve given me this semester.”

The young blonde leans over, placing her hands on your lap as she starts to read the dissertation you’re working on. She pushes some of her blonde hair out of her face as she mumbles, “This is good, except you forgot the negative here… and you need to carry the two here.” She says, pointing to the screen.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, rereading your work quickly before you shake your head as a slow smile creeps on your face, “Shit.”

Mary looks back at you and smiles widely before leaning back over in her spot, “Can I play Angry Birds on your phone?”

“Well, I owe you again for telling me to carry this two, so yes,” you laugh as you delete the last two lines of your work to start treworking the problem, correctly this time, but you can’t get your fingers to move. You glance down the hallway as students in the small college building move about and spot the vending machine - your stomach rumbling as if on queue, “You want some chips or something, Mary?” you ask, grabbing your purse.

“Doritos please,” She answers, not looking up from your phone, “And a coke.”

You laugh a little as you stand, “Your Uncle is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t, that’s what he had for breakfast this morning.”

“Wow,” You laugh, shaking your head as you start for the machine, “Don’t move, please.”

You move to the vending machine, pulling out your debit card and swiping it before tapping on the Doritos for Mary and the Cheetos for yourself. You pay for two cokes, (you’ve already ruined your diet with the Cheetos, might as well go all out) and turn on your heel to head back to your seat by the front doors. Just as you're handing the snacks to Mary, the doors open, a cool gust of wind washing over the two of you.

“Finally,” Mary says, rolling her eyes as she stands, “You’re late Uncle Frank.”

“I know it, I know.” He starts, running his hands through his damp hair, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mary asks, scrunching her face at him before she turns her attention back to you, “Thank you for the chips and the coke.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll see you Monday, study buddy?” You ask, raising your hand for a high five.

The little monster slaps your hand with hers, her toothy grin stretching across her face, “You got it.”

“Thank you for sitting with her,” Frank says, glancing up at you as he helps her with her backpack, “And for feeding her.”

You wave him off as you pack up your own bag, “It’s no problem. She’s literally the only reason I’m passing this class, so I can certainly sit with her for fifteen or twenty minutes here and there.”

He smiles at you and you smile back at him, diverting your eyes after a few seconds. You don’t have time for hot uncles. Especially hot, tan uncles who work on boat engines for a living that wear loose Hawaiian button downs and old, dirty jeans. You certainly don’t have time in your life for hot uncles whose bicep muscles flex softly as he puts his nieces backpack on her shoulders.  Nope, you definitely don’t have time for hot, slightly grumpy uncles.

“You be careful out there, the rain is supposed to get worse for the rest of the night.”

“Thanks,” you say, unable to wipe the stupid smile off your face as Frank and Mary move towards the front door, “You too.”

He smiles again as he pushes open the door for the little human, “See you Monday.”

You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers a little as they push out into the wind and the rain. You watch as they run towards his old truck, Frank throwing open the passenger door for her before he slams it shut once she’s in. He jogs around the front of the trunk and then peels out of the parking lot, leaving you standing there, staring out of the glass doors like an idiot. You sigh - you really wish you had time for hot ass uncles.

You throw your messenger bag over your shoulder and grab your math book, holding it over your head as you push through the threshold of the doors out into the rain. You jog towards your old - and when you say old, you mean old. Your baby has two hundred thousand miles on her, a wonky tail light that sometimes comes on and sometimes doesn’t, and a passenger side window that doesn’t roll down all the way, but she’s always done right by you; until recently. You just need her to hold on for a few more weeks - until your dad comes down to visit his favorite girl and shell out a downpayment for a new car.

You toss the heavy math book into the passenger seat and dumb your bag onto the floor board before you put the key in the ignition and turn. It takes a minute, but the engine finally turns over and you pull out of the parking lot to head home - but you should stop by the store because you know you’re not going to want to do it later.

You groan as you slow to a stop at the intersection, cutting your eyes towards the Whole Foods to your left, and then the Taco Bell that sits on the corner to the right. God, a Mexican pizza sounds good… a Mexican pizza, Warrior Nun, and your couch sounds even better. A car honks behind you, startling you out of your daze, and you quickly take a left, heading towards the Whole Foods. Your scale will thank you later.

----

You waste longer than you intend in the Whole Foods and by the time you’re finished, it's pouring outside. Being the responsible adult that you are, you of course left your umbrella at home. So, of course, you and your groceries are soaked by the time you get them into the backseat and you get yourself back behind the wheel. You huff, pushing your wet, soon to be frizzy hair out of your face before slamming your key back into the ignition.

“Come on baby,” you whisper, “Come on, come on.”

After a few more prayers, it turns over, the heat (which is about the only thing that works the way it should) blasting over your chilled body. You rub your hands together quickly, eyeing the Taco Bell as Linkin Park blasts through the speakers. You’re soaked, starving, and no thanks to the thoughts of hot ass uncles and their stupid Hawaiian shirts, suddenly super horny - you deserve a Mexican pizza… and a chalupa… and some nacho fries… and a Baja Blast.

----

Your mood has improved greatly as the smell of tacos fill your nostrils. You tap along to the loud metal music blasting from the speakers as rain pelts down on your car. Ten more minutes and you’ll be home, in your pajamas, stuffing your face - this day can finally end.

Your car jerks suddenly, violently. Lights start flashing on the dash, the gauges pushing into the red as the car starts to die.

“Fuck!” You shout as you grip the wheel tightly, your eyes going wide, your heart starting to pound as you steer the car into the grass.

It rolls for a while before it finally comes to a stop. You turn the key, and hear nothing but clicks, “Shit,” you mumble, turning the key again and pumping the gas pedal, praying that it’ll start up, “Please, please, please.”

Click, click, click.

“Don’t do this to me!” You whine, turning the key again.

Click, click, click.

The lights on the dash flash again, the radio starts, the heat starts to blast, “Yes!” You squeal, bouncing in your seat.

It dies again.

You celebrated too soon.

“Fuck!”

You turn the key again.

No clicks.

No nothing.

You slam your head back into the seat and let your arms fall to your sides. Fuck. You sigh heavily and reach into the backseat, fumbling around until you feel your purse and pull it into your lap. You pull out your phone and tap the screen, but it stays black. You tap again, and then again, but nothing happens. You push the side button and groan when the red battery flashes across the screen. Of course. Of fucking course.

You throw the dead phone into the passenger seat and open your door, running around to the front of the car. You pop the hood, grunting and cursing as the heavy, hard rain drops down on you. Once the hood is up, you just stare at the engine. You don’t even know what you’re looking at, let alone what you should be looking for.

You tug on a few wires, push on the battery, you know, to make sure it’s in its place or whatever, wipe away old, wet leaves - but you’re completely lost, out of ideas and out of your element… in the middle of a downpour, with a dead phone. Just your luck.

A car drives by, splashing the puddled rainwater up onto you as you stand huddled under the hood. You slam your eyes closed, sucking your teeth before you count to ten, trying not to shout obscenities. You hear another car coming and naturally shift over a few feet to avoid being splashed again. A truck zooms past, but you hear it slow down within seconds. You peek over the hood as the truck comes to a complete stop and then is put in reverse. You’re half grateful but also half afraid - it is Florida.

“I thought that was you,” You hear a familiar voice call to you before a door opens and slams shut, “What happened?”

Relief floods over you as none other than Frank Adler, hottie McUncle pants, jogs towards you and joins your side, “God, I don’t know!” you whine, “I was driving home and it just stopped.”

“Let me take a look,” he mumbles more to himself than to you as he starts tugging and pushing on random wires, “Does it click or no, when you try and start it.”

“It was clicking, but now it’s not.”

He grunts a little, “Sounds like it’s probably the battery and the starter. When’s the last time you got an oil change?” You glance towards the sky, scrunching your face as you try and remember, “That’s too long to go without an oil change.” he chuckles, “I can get you fixed up, but not in all of this rain. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

“No, I can’t - I can’t ask you to do that, I’ve taken enough of your time already and now you’re all soaked and,”

“I’m not gonna leave you in the rain,” he smirks, “Come on.”

“No, no, really! I can call somebody.” You lie, knowing good and damn well your phone is beyond dead. He scoffs, grabbing your hand, “I mean it, I have a backseat full of groceries!”

He pulls you into the street, opening the passenger side door to his truck and helps you in before he jogs back to your car. You watch as he grabs all of your groceries, all of them, in one hand at that, before he jogs back to his truck, opening the door again and depositing them at your feet. He runs back to your car, grabbing your backpack, purse, and your Taco Bell, before he jogs back to the truck, this time climbing into the drivers side.

“Frank,” you start, laughing nervously, “You really don’t have to do this. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it. I owe you anyway, for watching Mary whenever I’m running late.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Not really, but okay. I live off of Ventura.”

“Ventura?” He says as he pulls off, flipping a u-turn, “That’s like fifteen minutes from here. You can chill at my place, get cleaned up, eat your food, then hopefully the rain will have let up and I can come back and change out the battery.”

His place? You swallow hard. This is not how you’ve elaborately daydreamed about finally being alone with Frank Adler, “You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you and Mary have plans.”

“Nah,” he says absentmindedly as he drives, “She stays with Roberta on Friday nights. It’ll just be you and me.”

Great. Now you don’t even have a buffer. You tap your fingers nervously against your knees as you stare out the windshield, your mind - and heart - suddenly racing. You clear your throat and glance over at him, which is a bad idea. His skin is damp, his loose dark gray t-shirt - now soaked - sticking to his chest and stomach. You push your eyes to his outstretched forearm and have to take a breath. How is it possible to be attracted to a forearm? Has it honestly been that long for you? You flick your eyes back towards the windshield - you’re not even going to chance looking at his face.

He pulls you into a small trailer park, parking his truck in front of a turquoise house. The two of you grab your belongings, him again grabbing all of your groceries in one hand - another thing that turns you on that shouldn’t - and run towards his front door, Frank pushing his weight against it to pop it open.

He lets you push in first before he closes the door and sets your groceries on the counter. You glance around, finding an orange, one eye cat meowing at you from its place on the small table pushed against the wall.

“Fred,” he says, pushing the cat softly, “Off the table, come on man.”

Little remnants of Mary are scattered around, her small sneakers tucked underneath the chair, her Spongebob DVDs piled on top of the table, with advanced math books and an apple laptop. Frank is also scattered around the small, but strangely cozy place.  A motor - or what you think is a motor - sits on the coffee table in the living room, tools strewn around it, and an open but turned over philosophy book lays on the couch.

“Do you wanna shower? I have some clothes you can change into if you want.”

You snap your head towards him, blinking rapidly as your brain tries to keep up with his words, “Oh, um, yeah. Okay, yeah.”

You follow him nervously to the bathroom, where he points out that you how to jiggle the knob a little to get hot water before he disappears into his room, only to return with a pair of sweatpants, an old t-shirt, a large pullover hoodie, and some socks. Just as he leaves the bathroom, there’s a hint of a smile, more like a smirk, on his face before he dips his head and shuts the door behind him.

The butterflies that fill your stomach.

You turn towards the shower, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You slam your eyes closed. This is definitely not how you’ve envisioned this moment.

----

You step out of the bathroom twenty some odd minutes later, drowning in his sweats and hoodie, but warm and definitely feeling a lot better. Rain still beats down on the small house, seemingly harder than before. The TV is on, either wrestling or MMA or whatever playing, the sound low. Frank is in the kitchen, changed into a slightly dirty white t-shirt, complete with a little pocket, and baggy jeans, his feet bare - something else that turns you on that shouldn’t.

He hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re unsure if you want him too. You run your hand over your hair, towel dried as best as you could and pulled into a tight bun to try and keep it from curling and frizzing, with a scrunchie that you hope is Mary’s. You shove your hands into the front pocket of the hoodie and take a few steps, clearing your throat as a small, nervous smile plays on your lips.

Frank glances over at you as the microwave beeps, “Feel better?”

You nod slowly, “Much. Thank you again.”

“Not a problem, although, I’ll need you to keep this to yourself. I have appearances to keep up.” He says with a straight face.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckle.

He nods and points at a house across a small patch of grass, “My neighbor, Roberta, thinks I’m a nice guy,” he shrugs and you laugh again, “So, I constantly have to remind her that I am not.”

Your smile grows as you see your phone plugged into the charger, knowing that you weren’t the one to do so, “Of course. I will be more than happy to let people know that you sped right past me in my desperate time of need.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, holding out a plate to you, “You know they’re getting rid of the Mexican pizza, right?”

Your eyes widen as you take your heated up tacos from him, “No way!”

He throws up his hands as he pulls his microwavable burrito out of the wrapper and throws it on his plate, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

You follow him into the living room and plop down on the opposite side of the couch, as far as you can get away from him, and tuck your feet underneath your butt, “The Mexican pizza is the staple of their menu, how could they do this?”

Frank shrugs again, “Trying to class the place up a bit I guess.”

You snort as you take a bite, “You can’t class up the drunk capital of the world, baby.”

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you eat, the rain still falling hard as you watch whatever it is you’re watching. You grimace as one man punches the other in the jaw before tackling him to the mat as they start to wrestle. You close your eyes and turn your head away, groaning as the same man starts rapidly punching the other in the face, “What um, what is this called?”

He chuckles, grabbing the remote, “Sorry, I’ll change it. Mary and I usually watch MMA together.”

“You let Mary watch this?” You ask shockingly, laughing a little.

He scrunches up his nose as he hisses, nodding his head slowly, “I probably shouldn’t, right? Too violent?”

“I mean,” you start, “Just a tad. I can see why she hit that kid in the face now.”

“Ah fuck, she told you about that?” He laughs, falling back into the couch.

“Oh yeah, she did.” You laugh harder.

He covers his face with his hands, “Not our most shining moment.”

You push your elbow into the back of the couch and prop your head up with your fist as you smile back at him. Hot uncle is really… hot in his element, and when he’s talking about the small, blonde human. It makes your ovaries quake.

“She’s a great kid, you know.” You say, “You’re doing great with her.”

He rolls his head towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips, “You think?”

His question catches you off guard a little - the earnesty of it. Like he really wants you to say yes. Like, he doesn’t believe that he’s doing a great job.

“Yeah. You are.”

He blinks at you - once, and then twice before he looks back at the tv, touching his knees together before he pushes them back out again. Mark down a third thing that turns you on - the manspread.

“She talks about you a lot,” he says after a few moments, “Not just to me, but Roberta too. She really likes you.”

You smile softly, “Yeah?”

He looks back over at you, nodding slowly, “Yeah. That’s half the reason Roberta comes to get her, you know, so she can have some girl time - talk about girl stuff. She needs that,” he nods again, clearing his throat, “And you, you know, you kinda help out with that in an unconscious way, so,” he clears his throat again, “It means a lot, it really does.”

You drop your head as a large smile spreads on your face, “Well,” you start, “Somebody has to offset your asshole-ness, so Roberta and I are doing our best.”

The two of you laugh again, him dropping his head, you glancing back at the tv as the air around you starts to suddenly shift. He takes a swig of his beer before he places it between his legs, holding the neck with both of his hands. He taps his thick fingers against the green bottle a few times before he turns his heads towards you, blinking as he chews on his bottom lip. Your lips part as your breath gets shallow, your eyes bouncing around his face.

Within a second, his lips are on yours, taking you by complete surprise. You’re frozen for a few seconds, your eyes still open, your breath hitching in your throat - but then… oh, but then. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his kiss slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders and gripping ever so tightly. He releases your lips quickly before he delves back in, this time harder, his tongue pushing into your mouth for the very first time.

You can taste the faint alcohol on his lips and you moan - slipping your hand around his neck to push your fingers into his surprisingly soft hair. He fumbles with his beer, stretching out his arm trying to find the table. The bottle clangs against the edge and then the top before he just lets it go, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud as the rest of the golden liquid pours out onto the carpet.

He crawls towards you, his knees sinking into the couch as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap and further down onto your back. You slip your hands up into his shirt, sliding them along his sides and up his sinewy back. You push yours hips into his as you feel his muscles flex underneath your fingers. The tips of his fingers are still cool from the beer bottle as they skirt across your stomach. You break the kiss to laugh at yourself when you jump at his touch, Frank’s low chuckle harmonizing with yours.

“You okay?” he whispers, a smile still on his face, his lips brushing against yours.

You nod, still giggling like an idiot, “Yeah, sorry,” you whisper, leaning up a little to kiss him again.

His hand continues to travel the length of you, reaching your bare breasts, where he cups gently. You gasp lightly as the pads of his fingers graze over your nipples, exciting them further as they tighten and protrude. He pushes his hips down into yours and rocks forward - so you can feel him. You dig your fingers into his sides, matching the slow pace of his hips with yours.

His lips push down to your jaw and neck, where he nips and sucks, his arm looping around your waist again. He pulls you into his lap as he sits back into the couch, his hands dragging up your back. You lean back and bite your bottom lip in uncertainty as your eyes search his. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes wide and sparkly as they drop to your lips before linking with yours again. He drops his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as he pushes his hips into yours.

You bunch the baggy hoodie and t-shirt that cover your chest and pull, bringing them both up over your head in one fell swoop and drop them to the floor. Frank takes a breath - deep and slow - as his eyes drop to your exposed flesh. He sends his eyes back up to yours seconds later and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as his hand slips up your back. He wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you down, crashing your lips to his.

You reach for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up, helping him shrug it off quickly before you fumble with the button on his jeans. He digs his fingers underneath the band of your sweatpants, lifting you up to yank them down your legs and throw them to the floor. You pop the button of his jeans and pull down his zipper before you reach for him, palming his warmth. He hisses, and pulls your body into his, tightening his grip on you as you stroke him.

He releases you just long enough to pull his jeans down his legs. He then grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreading your skin as the tip of his cock pushes against your slit. You grip his shoulders as you sink down on him - throwing your head back as he penetrates you. You feel his eyes on you as you gobble him up, wiggling your hips slowly as you adjust to his girth. He sinks back into the couch, resting his head on the back of it as his eyelids droop over his blues, his hands still gripping your ass.

You start to move. Pulling up on him before you sink back down, hissing as a fire starts to rage through you. You dig your nails into his shoulders before dragging them down his biceps as you let your head roll back on your neck, your mouth falling open as your eyes close.

Frank leans up to peer around the curve of your body to watch the primal connection between the two of you. He palms your ass hard, squeezing your flesh in his hands as he spreads it apart again as you bounce and rock into him. He slips a large hand up your back and spreads his fingers to push your naked chest into his. The hardness of his body against the softness of yours - your supple, full breasts pushing against his wide, hairy chest is… wildly erotic. The sturdiness of him, the tightness in which his hands hold you.

He starts to fuck up into you, bucking his hips to meet you on your way down - all the while keeping his hands full of your ass, kneading and groping -  feeling you. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean back, pulling him with you. He peppers hot, wet, furied kisses over and between your breasts and along your clavicles as his hips dig into yours.

It feels good - he feels good. He leans away from you, pulling you up with him as he stands, He wraps his hands around your thighs and kisses you hard as he starts to pull you through the living room and the kitchen, back into his bedroom. He closes the door with his foot and lays you down gently, climbing over top you, his knees pressing into the mattress. He drags his dick through your folds before he centers at your slit, pushing gently - slowly -  like he’s savoring the feeling.

He grabs your leg and hooks it over his waist as he starts to move again. He runs his hand the length of your calf, over your knee, down your thigh as he fucks you - harder than before, on the couch. You sweep your hands up his sides and along the small of his back, feeling his muscles as they flex while he fucks you good; deep. His name falls off your lips as more heat blooms across your skin, and he likes it - growls at it - the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue.

He grunts, squeezing your thigh in his hand as he pumps into you, “You feel so good, baby,” he slurs, “As good as I thought you’d feel.”

As good as I thought you’d feel. You slam your eyes closed as you groan at his admission. He pulls out of you suddenly and pushes his hands underneath your body, flipping you right over onto your stomach. He grabs your sides, his rough hands pulling you up onto your knees. He slips his hand between your folds and massages your clit with the pads of his fingers as he pushes into you again.

His free hand slips up your back, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing as he starts to fuck into you again. You grip the sheets in your hands as you lunge forward with each of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. He releases your shoulder and flattens his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing hard to get you to rest your head and shoulders against the mattress. He grabs your hands and crosses them at the wrists over the small of your back as he holds them in just one of his large hands.

“God, Frank,” you groan, “Fuck.”

His thrusts are long and hard; pushing deep into your sex, stroking you in places that haven’t been touched in ages. Your wet muscles start to squeak with each push of his hips, a soft squish sound filling your ears. He grabs your ass again, squeezing hard, spreading you open so he can see all of you. You feel his fingers drift through your cheeks, circling your tight hole before his thumb starts to press gently.

You grit your teeth and push back into him as hard as you can, meeting his hips halfway. Your head swims as sweat and goosebumps pop up along your skin, your heart slamming against your chest. Electricity flashes through your body, making your toes curl as your ungodly howls float through the trailer. Hot uncle is a hot fuck - that’s for sure.

Frank slips out of you again but stays close - the tip of his cock still pressing against your slit. You open your eyes and glance back at him, your lips parted and breath heavy. He stares down at your cunt and ass, stroking himself from his base to his tip slowly, his free hand pulling softly on his balls. You pull your hand around to your sex and push your fingers along your clit, arching your back as you hiss loudly. You lick your lips as you keep your eyes on him - his hard, wide chest and thick biceps flexing as he pumps himself.

“This is a pretty pussy, baby girl,” he praises, releasing a deep breath, “So pretty.”

You whine at the words, your fingers picking up their pace as his praise falls over you. Your cunt is hot and swollen - so wet that your fingers glide with ease through your folds, your slick starting to slide down the inside of your thigh. You push your fingers into your opening and pump them quickly for him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he growls at the sight.

You pull your fingers out and start rubbing your clit again, pulsing your hips slightly as you watch Frank stroke himself. His tip glistens as precum spurts from his slit, dripping off of him and splashing on the sheets. He grabs your ass, jiggling your flesh playfully before he slides his cock through your folds. He positions himself right at your opening, but doesn’t push - he just waits.

You wiggle your hips, giggling a little before you push back onto him, a smile curling onto your lips as your muscles spread for him. You push until you’ve swallowed him whole, until your ass is flush against his hips, and you feel him deep. You pull forward and then push back, over and over until you’re thrashing against him; you’re eyes slammed closed, your sounds loud and high pitched.

He pulls you up onto your knees and flattens your back to his chest. He nips at your neck with his teeth as he glues his hands to your bouncing tits, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He pants in your ear, mumbling not so sweet nothings, his hot breath washing over the side of your face. He snakes his hand down your stomach - right down to your sex - and touches you ever so lightly.

That’s all it takes. Just the gentle tap of his rough fingers against your sensitive, sore, clit; and you’re gone. Your body tenses and then shudders as your orgasm spreads through you like lightening. Heat blooms across your skin as your pussy convulses - your clit jumping with each contraction, your muscles tightening around him.

He gets louder, his voice deeper and gruffer as each stroke gets harder and faster. Within minutes of your undoing, he’s spurting into you, coating your insides with his milky warmth. You fall forward onto your chest, Frank onto his back next to you as your chests heave. You stare at the opposite wall, blinking slowly as the world starts to center again - the sound of the television comes back to you -  the sound of the rain.

You roll your head towards him and he does the same, the two of you just blinking at one another until a fit of giggles erupt from you. You don’t even know why. You laugh so hard that you have to cover your face with your hands. This definitely isn’t the way you’ve imagined this going when you’ve had your hand down your pants at night in your apartment. He rolls over onto his side and props his head up with his palm, smiling at you as you laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs, “You have a nice laugh.”

“That’s not very asshole-y of you, Frank.”

He chuckles, nodding slowly, “That’s right, okay, yeah. You have an awful laugh.”

You point at him, “Appearances, right?”

----

You wake with a slight start. You sit up quickly, your eyes squinted as the sun breaks in through the crack in the shade over the window. A sleeping Frank lays beside you. He’s on his stomach, his hands shoved underneath the pillows that hold his head, facing away from you. The tv still plays in the living room. Your discarded clothes still in a heap on the floor, the beer bottle still tipped over.

You glance back at the window and lift the shade slowly, a smile spreading on your face as you spot your old Jetta parked next to his old truck. You lay back down and pull the covers up over your head just as he shifts beside you, stretching out his long arm until it finds your hip.

You close your eyes.

You can’t wait to tell everybody how big of an asshole Frank Adler is.

[harrysgoldenbum]

Peach

This is a little piece that was inspired by @for-fucks-sake-h glorious post of Harry’s thighs. And saw that @bfharry was holding this event #boyfriendathon and decided to join!

I want to thank @berrynarrybanana​ for all her help and the rest of my girls for all their support! 

Word count: 2.2k+

Warnings: smut, smut, smut. 18+ only

It’s a particularly hot day in Los Angeles, you and Harry managed to get the same day off. The living room fan is running at the highest speed while you and Harry adorn matching attire. Your shirts are loose and you’re both wearing shorts in an attempt to keep cool during the blazing, summer heatwave that decided to wash over your home today of all days. Instead of trying to complete the long list of errands you both have to tend to, you are lounging around on the sofa watching the first of many movies in your rom-com marathon. You were in charge of snacks and Harry was picking out the movies. That was sort of your movie marathon routine that you had fallen into years ago. 

When things first started out, Harry tried cuddling up with you. You had your front pressed to Harry’s side, your legs tucked over his as he rested his large palm on your calf muscle while the other rested on the small of your back. He caressed your skin, rubbing soft circles into your legs and the skin of your back. Your knees were bent and rested against Harry’s chest while your head rested on his shoulder and your fingers fiddled with the soft strands of his hair. You were able to tolerate this position for five minutes before you felt your body starting to overheat.

As the third movie now comes to an end, the two of you have claimed your spot on opposite ends of the couch. Your legs are still tangled and each time you shift, the hairs on his leg tickle yours. Harry is still pouting because you pulled away and claimed your spot on the opposite ends of the long couch and told him that his body is a heater and how if you wanted to sweat buckets you would be sitting outside. 

Stretching out, Harry releases a groan. He drops his head on to the cushion of the couch and his forest green eyes peek over at you. You can tell that he wants something, a soft pout on his lips. 

“Should take a picture Har, it lasts longer.” You mutter into the pillow clutched to your chest as you watch the credits roll on your TV screen.

“Will you be a peach, and bring me a peach?” He says it so sweetly that you almost jump up right after he asks. If you weren’t so overheated and miserable, you might have.

You roll your neck to look at your boyfriend with a blank stare. His body is sunk into the sofa and clearly, he has no desire to get up and help himself to a peach. 

“Fine.” You moan. “But only if you’re sharing.” 

You throw Harry’s leg off of yours and sit upright with a soft whine. You raise your arms above your head and stretch out, your limbs stiff after sitting for so long without movement. Your shirt rises and Harry being the menace he is, reaches out and pinches your side, causing you to yelp and jump out of your seat. Sending a glare over your shoulder, you stomp into the kitchen as he laughs loudly from his spot on the couch.

Washing and cutting two Andross peaches, you add a pinch of salt and stuff a slice into your mouth. Turning on your heel, you strut back into the room. As you get to the entry, you pause.

Harry’s head is thrown back. His neck is stretched out and his arms are crossed over his broad chest and his legs are spread open. His feet are flat on the floor, almost begging you to strut over and place your bum in his lap to make him suffer. Your eyes zone in on Harry’s thighs. In this position, they look powerful. Your knees go weak and your breathing gets heavier.

You want him. 

More specifically, you want him in your mouth, against your tongue, and then down your throat. 

Swallowing the peach in your mouth, you shuffle over to your boyfriend and settle down onto his lap. You straddle his thick thighs and hand him the bowl full of peaches. With a hum, he picks one up and starts to munch on the juicy fruit, oblivious to the needy attitude you’ve adopted during your time apart. Dropping your head onto his shoulders, Harry’s forearms rest on your thighs. One hand holds the bowl while the other controls the remote. 

“Thought I was too hot for you to sit next to me,” he says with his mouth full.

You make some dismissive noise and continue to cling to him. You hear the buttons on the remote clicking as Harry searches for the next movie. 

“How bout ‘Failure to Launch’ baby? Haven’t watched that one for a while,” He mumbles, slurping as some of the peach juice dribbles on his fingers. It sends a shock straight to your core and you try your best not to moan out at the familiar sound.

“Okay” you murmur as you press your lips to the shell of his ear. 

Harry shivers and gives your thigh a squeeze. He queues the movie and wraps his arms around your torso. With your arms wrapped around him, you start to pepper kisses along his neck. Some are short and quick pecks, while others are wet from your tongue tracing over his salty skin. You can feel his jaw moving, and him swallowing as he eats.

“Wha’ gotten into you?” His eyes are trained on the television but his mind is focused on your actions. 

“Nothin,” you breathe against his neck. “Just want you.” 

You swipe your tongue along with one of the many veins that travel along the column of his throat and Harry’s body stills.

“Want me?” His voice is gruff and low, sending shock waves through your body. 

With a hum, you start to slide down his thighs and eventually end on the carpeted floor on your knees. Your mouth waters at the thought of his heavy cock pressing against your tongue. Swallowing thickly, you look up into eyes. 

“Want you in my mouth baby. Please, please, please, let me take you in my mouth.” 

Harry’s mouth drops open. He tries to say something but a mumbled mess falls out from his lips. 

Your eyes are glazed over and you start to get antsy. You lean forward and place a soft needy kiss on his denim-covered dick. 

His hips lift off the sofa, a gasp pulling from his throat. You can’t help yourself and place your hands on his knees and slowly move them up to his denim-covered thighs. A small whimper falls from your lips as you give his powerful thighs a squeeze.

 “Please baby, I wanna taste it.” 

“Okay,” Harry whispers. He places the bowl an arms-length way and both his hands grip the sofa cushions. 

A delighted hum sounds from your throat. You lean in and place a gentle kiss on his knee. Then you switch sides and kiss his other knee. You pepper kisses up his beefy legs until you reach the button that holds his shorts closed. 

Harry’s breathing has gotten heavier and his knuckles have turned white from holding onto the cushions so tightly. He watches his girlfriend get lost between his legs. He’s never seen her this needy and the way she is looking at him and loving on him has sent all his blood to his dick. 

Your fingers move to unbutton Harry from his confines and carefully unzips him. Curling your fingers into the waistband you slowly tug down the blue shorts he is wearing. Harry helps you by raising his hips off the couch and you slip the material down to his thighs, slowly revealing his muscles and tattoos. Your mouth pools with saliva. Guiding his shorts past his knees, you let them fall down and rest on his ankles. Leaning your body forward, you press wet kisses on his navel and pull oh his happy trail with your teeth as you peel his boxers off his body. 

Kneeling in front of him with your ass to your heels, you admire the man sitting in front of you. 

His thick cock is hard and standing at attention. His veins bulge from his skin and precum is starting to pool at his dusty pink tip. 

A shiver runs down your spine, as you watch his cock twitch every few seconds. You bend forward and start licking your path up to Harry’s dick. You twirl your tongue around the indent of his bent knee and slowly drag your wet tongue to his tiger tat. Peeking through your lashes, you look at Harry’s flushed face, his nostrils flare when he makes eye contact with you. Unable to help yourself, you nip Harry’s inner thigh and suck on it, making sure to leave a bruise; similar to the ones he loves to leave on you. A groan vibrates out of Harry’s chest in response to the small form of payback you’re leaving on his golden skin. 

With a coy smile, you move your hand to Harry’s sensitive member. Using your index finger, you trace the thick vein that starts at his base and leads to Harry’s tip. You watch Harry’s reaction as you slowly start to pump him. His jaw is clenched and his eyelids are lowered. You start at the base, slowly flick your wrist as you move up his thick cock. Harry inhales sharply as he watches you toy with him. 

Your hair falls forward as you lean in to take the pink tip into your mouth. Moving fast, Harry’s hands move your hair out of the way and use his hands as a makeshift hair tie. He guides himself deeper into your mouth, slowly coating his dick with your spit. His eyes roll back as his member reaches the back of your throat. 

You move your hands onto his thighs and give them a squeeze, steadying yourself as you take him deeper. And in return, you feel the glorious muscles flex back, Harry clearly restraining himself from fucking up into your glorious, wet mouth. You relax your throat and feel him enter your throat. 

“Fuck,” Harry grunts. His head drops back and the veins in his neck tighten. “You feel good, baby.” You hum in response, which vibrates around Harry’s cock, causing his back to arch off the couch. 

You start to bob your head faster, sucking a bit harder when you pull back up and watch Harry as his skin starts to glow from the sweat that’s starting to leak out of his pores. 

You can only imagine how powerful he looks from a different angle. His legs spread, muscles clenching, head thrown back, neck exposed, all from receiving pleasure from you. Tingles run up your spine at the thought. A long, drawn-out moan rises from your diaphragm due to the mental image and it causes Harry to clench his abs at the sensation. “Fuck me, I’m gonna cum.” 

He’s looking at you, and Harry’s eyes show how fucked out he really is. He’s on the brink, you can feel it when you cup his balls. They are hot and tight. You feel them tightening as you continue to please him with your mouth. The fuzzy sack starts to throb in your palm, and a series of moans start to spill from his throat without warning. This grip he has on the back of your head starts to tighten. Pushing him deep into your throat, your nose is tickled from the hair on his navel. Staying in position for a few seconds, you pull away until only his tip is between your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head and his fingers tighten against your scalp in response. You tease the sensitive slit with the tip of your tongue.

Harry’s hips jerk up. “Y/N, baby…” taking him back in your mouth, with one hand massaging his balls, you start to hum. It was a trick you picked up when you would give Harry a blowie. When you do this, Harry blows in seconds. And sure enough, not even a minute later, Harry’s body tightens and cums with a loud groan. You swallow everything he gives you happily, the taste far sweeter than the peach that he was munching on moments before. 

He is trembling when he finishes, his whole body strung out on lust and adrenaline. Not wanting to miss a drop, you give him a gentle suckle to ensure that you’ve taken all he has given you., getting a few more droplets of his sweet cum on your eager tongue. Pulling back, you give his dick a few soft kisses, a soft hiss dragging from between his teeth. You start to bring his briefs back up his legs, letting them snap into place on his hips. You press quick pecks up his leg as you gently tuck his sensitive member back into his denim shorts. Buttoning him up, you climb back into his lap. You give a short peck on his lips and tuck your head into his neck, “Sweets as a peach,” you tell him. A tortured chuckle rumbles from his chest. Dropping his hands onto your hips, Harry tries to regulate his breathing.

“S what did I miss in the movie?” 

—

My Works

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...

word count: 4k

from the beginning <3

Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.

She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.

It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.

They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.

“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”

His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”

“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.

“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.

Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.

“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”

“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”

With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)

He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.

On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.

“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.

He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.

He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.

“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”

She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.

“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.

“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”

“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”

Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”

She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.

When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.

“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.

“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.

“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.

“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.

“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.

“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”

“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”

“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”

Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.

“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.

“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.

"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.

It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”

She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”

“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”

“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”

She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”

He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.

“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.

“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.

“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.

“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.

Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.

Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”

Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”

“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.

Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.

“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”

She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”

“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.

“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”

“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“

“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.

Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.

“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.

Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.

—

They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.

Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.

“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.

Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.

He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.

She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.

Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.

Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”

“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”

“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.

“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.

“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.

He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.

“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”

“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.

“No one, quite the opposite actually—“

“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.

“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”

“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”

“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”

There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”

“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"

“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”

“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”

“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.

“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”

“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.

“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.

He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.

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