Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?”
“Do I look grumpy?” you ask.
“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.”
“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.”
“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”
You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.”
“But how does she know?”
“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.”
“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school.
You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.)
“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks.
You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.”
“It’s a secret.”
“Well, you don’t have to tell me.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” he says.
Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise.
“Mommy says you’re here too much.”
You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for.
Jack watches you.
“Dad got really mad.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.”
Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.”
“Want a hug?” you whisper.
Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you.
This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.
“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret.
You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t.
“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?”
“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.”
“Mom says everything is hard now.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Sorry, Jack.”
Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave.
“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.
“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.”
“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.
“I better go.”
“Honey, what’s really going on?”
“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”
You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience.
—
You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you.
“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.”
It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face.
Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed.
Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.”
“You’d buy my lunch regardless.”
He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn.
Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until.
“I have something to tell you,” he says.
You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.”
“Haley and I are probably going to separate.”
You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?”
“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.”
You stare.
Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.”
“I’m sorry,” you say softly.
“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.”
“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft.
“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.”
What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse.
You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working.
“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.”
You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist.
“I’m sorry I stormed out.”
“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.”
“I just don’t want you to fight about me.”
“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”
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without you + three
authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.
do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.
warnings: none
song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige
one + two
words: 4k
“I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this.
Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”
His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”
Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. “I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”
Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”
“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.
You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’
And you express as such.
“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”
Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”
“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child.
Now, it’s about to be four.
“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”
His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”
His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”
“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”
“What?”
Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”
“She doesn’t ask for much.”
“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”
Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”
Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”
Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”
“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”
“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.
“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”
Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”
You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.”
You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.
You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.
You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.
You won’t let that be the case with Callie.
Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”
The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”
Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”
He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”
“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel.
Time flies when life is good.
“Did you get Callie’s list?”
He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”
You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!”
She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”
You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”
A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at.
“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”
Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”
“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”
“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.
“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.”
“I like baby Moana.”
He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”
She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”
“What if they’re all boys?”
You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.
“Noooo, I want a little sister.”
Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”
“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.
“A puppy!”
See.
You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”
“But, I’ll be old!”
“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”
Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”
“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”
The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”
The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”
He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”
Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”
“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.”
Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”
Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”
Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”
“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”
He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”
Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention.
“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.
“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”
This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement.
“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve.
“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.
“Why are they hurting you?”
“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned.
Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach.
“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”
“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this.
And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.
You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”
Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny.
“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you.
Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.”
He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”
Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”
Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.
“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”
“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?”
And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”
“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”
With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on.
Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point.
It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm.
“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room.
“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”
“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”
An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”
He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”
Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”
He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”
“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”
The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”
Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’.
Talk about fucking alliteration.
“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..
This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.
Nothing is going to change that.
Especially being a mother to three more children.
Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”
He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”
The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”
—------
Megan is having a wonderful day.
One of the best she’s had in a while.
Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.
And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.
A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.
Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.
“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.
So worth it though.
Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.
The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face.
“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine.
It takes her about the usual time.
And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.
She has to start preparing for the wedding.
Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.
To play along.
And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.
Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.
As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”
As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.
Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”
Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”
“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”
Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”
And my husband.
Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.
It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud.
She lived long enough.
He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.
Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants.
Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.
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warmth azriel x reader
Based on this ask!
this is my first time writing for Azriel!
warnings: past abuse
word count: 840 words
is unedited
Tumbling down the side of the rocky hill, you manage to hit and scrape every part of your small, frail body on the freezing rough ground. Small wings bleeding and bent at odd angles twitch on your back as you finally stop moving.
You hear laughter above you and making its way towards you. Groaning and spitting out blood and saliva out of your mouth as they reach you. Being ten is one thing in Illyria, being a ten year old bastard daughter in Illyria is another thing.
The boys that shoved you down the hill in the first place are trying to get you to the river to drown you, you have figured that out pretty quickly, but because of having a rough life from the get go you won't be going down without a fight.
It’s a struggle getting back on your feet, your wings being clipped a week prior and now broken and mangled making it hard for you to balance.
“Look at her, she is pathetic.” One of them snickers, you look at the two standing before you, the tall figures looking hazy under the moonlight.
“It’s a wonder she’s lasted this long in the first place. Look at how small she is. We are doing her a favor putting her out of her misery.”
“One day, I will kill you both.” You say with a bloody grin, “It might not be today, or tomorrow but I will do it. With a smile on my face.” You spit blood out at their feet.
It must have been the look of determination or maybe desperation on your face, but the two boys took a step back, and then laughed.
“Sure, but you’re dead tonight bastard bitch.” And they start making their way towards you.
“What did you call her?” A voice appears.
And three figures emerge from the tree line.
You cough a laugh out, and fall to your knees. A comforting warmth appears beside you helping you stand.
“You okay?” And it’s Azriel standing tall and brave before you, even at just twelve years old.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say with a grin.
Dinner was always loud and fun with the family all together, Cassian and Nesta seeing who could out drink one another. Feyre and Rhysand egging them on and placing bets, and then you and Azriel silently watching them with warmth and humor.
“Oh to the mother you know damn well if any one here can out drink you it's her.” Rhysand says and gestures to you, to which you balk and choke on your drink you were sipping on.
Azriel’s hand gently rubs your back with a knowing smile on his face. You feel love and mirth through the bond. Everyone has their eyes on you expecting to join in on the bets.
“Ah, that’s not something I need to prove Cassy.” You say with a wink and he pouts. “Plus, I cannot drink right now.”
Feyre drops her glass and it breaks. “Shut the fuck up.” She says while launching toward you with a smile, clearly being more tipsy than anyone was expecting. “Nyx is going to have a cousin.” She says with a sob.
“Feyre darling careful-” Rhys winces and tries to get out before she tackles you. Everyone has huge grins on their faces.
“So? How long have you known?” Nesta asks softly.
“About three months.” Azriel responds with a warm smile.
“Well, that brings up one question I have.” Cassian says with a burp, you wince and call him gross.
“Who is going to be the scary parent?” Cassian asks with a drunkenly serious face.
“Obviously, y/n.” Nesta and Feyre say. Rhysand rubs his chin in thought and nods. “Yes, that's true.”
Azriel looks shocked and you hide a grin in his shoulder.
“Awe, Azzy don’t look so shocked.” Nesta says with a drunken snort. “Your mate is literally a reaper.” And she’s not wrong, you got the nickname centuries ago when you picked up a scythe as the weapon you preferred to fight with. You and Azriel often got the title of the Shadow and Reaper when put on missions together.
The dinner soon comes to an end when Nesta and Cassian pass out on the couches, Feyre asleep on the table and Rhys coaxing her to get to an actual bed.
“I love our family.” You whisper to Azriel as he puts your beanie on your head for you. He drags his hands down to your face, squishes your cheeks and kisses your nose.
“I love you sweets.” He responds to you and then helps you put your shaw on for the cold walk home. You giggle and help him put his gloves on for him.
You both head home down the path, leaning into one another with the snow lightly falling. But for some reason because of him you only feel warmth. And even though you live together you wish the walk was a little longer, just to enjoy that peaceful quiet love with Azriel.
a/n: YAYYYYY! okay so this is it! please lemme know how y'all feel!
my asks are still open right now!
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