#Marry My Husband Last Episode Time

[bollywoodboxoffice]

Marry My Husband Last Episode Release Date, Time, Remaining Schedule

What is Marry My Husband’s Last Episode Release Date? Marry My Husband is an ongoing South Korean television series that is written by Shin Yoo-dam. This series stars Park Min-young, Na In-woo, Lee Yi-kyung, and Song Ha-yoon. Marry My Husband is based on a web novel that also has the same name which was serialized as a webtoon. The series was started to premiere on TVN on 1 January 2024 every…

[psalm40speakstome]

Not since It’s Okay Not To Be Okay has a drama felt so perfectly enchanting from beginning to end.

[asxgard]

Heartbeat | [1/3]

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x pregnant wife!doctor!f!reader

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Summary: You get called in to assist with the mass casualty event on your day off and you’re grateful to be there when your husband finally breaks.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: episode 13 hurt a lot so I wrote this to cope. Likely will write more specific stuff after I’ve fully processed.

Word Count: 4.4k+

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: age gap (16ish years, I have a problem okay? The age gap trope feeds me), established relationship/marriage, hospital/medical inaccuracies, hurt/comfort, panic attack, foul language, angst (it’s who I am), gore/gun violence (Pittfest), vague details from ep. 11-13, pet names (baby, my love), non-graphic shower scene, fluff at the end because we deserve it after that episode???

not beta read

You had met Dr. Robinavitch when you started in the ED as an attending. While your love blossomed slowly, it bloomed into so much more than you were expecting. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, from dating secretly to Dana and Jack finding out only a month after, to getting engaged just a year later.

You had done what you could to keep it from the hospital administration, but the time came where you got married and paperwork needed to be filed. You kept your maiden name to ensure there was no confusion, plus it added to your privacy. Everyone you worked with knew you were married, just not to each other, but it was more of an open secret to some of the nurses and other attendings.

Gloria nearly moved you to a different department. She tried separating you by shifts, maybe hoping you would leave and find work in a different hospital. Michael was technically your boss, after all. In her reports, however, she found that when you two were on shift together, it was seamless. Like you two operated on a frequency that no one else was even aware of.

Despite the bumps in the road, and Michael’s aversion for talking about his feelings, you made it work. Some shifts could be frustrating, and that sometimes got carried home, but you respected each other immensely. Michael was not keen on letting such a good thing in his life go that easily, and eventually opened up about Adamson and the toll the pandemic had taken on him.

After that hurdle, everything else was easy. Eventually, you decided to grow your family, and you got pregnant not even five months later.

—

On the fourth year anniversary of Adamson’s death, you were surprised to find Michael preparing for a shift.

“Didn’t you take off?” You asked, watching him dress into his scrubs.

“Yeah,” he said, not looking at you. “Peterson had a family thing, and I know they’re short staffed.”

You frowned, “You could’ve asked me.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He said, turning to look at you and his heart swelled at the sight. “I don’t want you to cancel your appointment.”

You sat on that for a moment. For as busy as you both were, Michael had made time for every appointment you had after finding out you were pregnant.

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t miss the next one.”

That satisfied you. For all Michael was, someone to break his promise was not one of them.

“I was hoping to find out the gender today,” you said with a tiny smile. “But a little anticipation never hurt anyone.”

He looked grateful at your words, moving to kiss you. He tasted like mint, holding your head so gently in his hands. Your hands moved to his chest, wanting to hold him against you, but you released him.

“Jake know yet?”

He smiled, “Yeah. He asked to take his girlfriend instead.”

You raised an eyebrow and grinned, “Oh?”

You and Jake had gotten close slowly, him being like a step-son to Michael, but now you loved the kid.

“If you need anything, just call, alright?”

He nodded, grabbing his coffee, giving you one last lingering kiss before heading out the door.

—

Your day was mildly uneventful, taking your time with a handful of chores before sitting out on the balcony to have lunch. Your OB appointment had gone well, and you got a recording of the heartbeat, knowing Michael might need to hear it after his shift.

As time moved, you missed that Michael had not been able to be there with you. You missed his touch and his presence beside you. Dinner came with a takeout box of your latest craving, before your phone rang.

Jack Abbot’s name flashed on your screen. You still worked a few shifts with him from time-to-time, but Michael had you mostly scheduled for days, with him.

“Hey,” you said when you answered.

“Did you hear?”

“That’s so specific, Jack,” you said, opening the fridge to scan your snack options.

“There was a shooting at Pittfest, unknown number of casualties. Closest trauma center is PTMC.”

Your heart stuttered to a stop, “What?”

“Heard it on the scanner. You’ll likely get an alert that it’s all hands on deck, but I wanted to give you a heads up before traffic got too bad.”

Despite not being super close with Jack, you were still friends and you knew he had your back. While you hated being treated with careful hands at work now that you were pregnant, part of you still appreciated the gesture of it. It was like something unspoken had happened between Michael and Jack months ago, both of them moving to take the more combative patients whenever you were around.

“Shit, Jack.” You breathed out, rushing into your bedroom to grab your scrubs. “Fuck, Jake is at Pittfest. Let me try to reach him.” You fumbled through your drawers, taking a deep breath through your nose. “I’ll be in. See you soon.”

“Drive safe!” He said before the call disconnected.

After changing, you moved to grab a few odd snacks and water bottles, stuffing them into your lunch bag, along with your cell phone charger. Who knew how long this was going to take, or if Michael had had the chance at any point today to eat. He hadn’t texted or called, but that was not uncommon. The Pitt never made it easy, which was why you were grateful that you worked most of your shifts with your husband.

You tried reaching Jake, leaving a voicemail and a text message before reaching out to his mother. You briefly explained the situation and asked for an update as soon as she heard anything, before you promised the same.

When you got into your car, you took a deep breath to steady your heart before beginning your way to PTMC.

Michael called you, your phone ringing through the car’s Bluetooth.

“Hey, don’t have much time, but I need you.” He told you, his voice quiet but full of so much emotion.

“I’m already on my way. Abbot called ten minutes ago. Tried calling out to Jake, too, he didn’t answer. Told his mom to reach out to either of us if she heard anything.” You said in a rush, coming to a stop at a light. Almost there.

He let out a breath that almost sounded like relief.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The mass alert came through your phone as soon as he hung up. Thank fuck for Jack.

You made it into the parking garage, waving at the security guard now posted at the entrance. You sat in your car for just a minute to get your bearings, knowing tonight was going to be a shitshow.

As you entered the Emergency Department, you saw patients leaving, escorted by nurses and admin staff — and you moved quickly into the back. It was a circus, but you spotted Michael and Jack and beelined for them.

Michael’s brown eyes caught you as you approached and his face relaxed, though his shoulders were still tense. Dana was beside them, and her usual quip of “Oh I get Dr. R squared today?” did not fall from her lips, but she was sporting a black eye. You looked at her in alarm, but she waved it off.

“Just another happy customer.” She said, but you only frowned at her.

Michael spoke next, introducing you, and then quickly running down the new faces to you: Dr. Mel King, an R2, Dennis Whittaker, an M4, Victoria Javadi, an M3, and Dr. Trinity Santos, an intern. You tried to remember their names, but knew you would not likely remember them in the chaos.

You went to quickly put your stuff down, and when you turned around, Michael was standing there. To everyone else, he appeared neutral, controlled, normal. To you? He was wearing his shift all over his face and you could see plainly that it had not been a good one.

“This is going to be stressful, I should’ve let you stay home—”

While you appreciated his concern, you would have come anyway. “I promise, if I get too stressed out, I’ll let myself take a few minutes. But you have me. What can I do to help?”

“I need you in pink zone.” He told you, moving right back to business. “You’ll be with McKay and Javadi, and incoming night shift. But I need you at the head of it.”

“You got it.” You said, honored he was trusting you to run point on your zone.

—

While the victims did not stop coming, you found yourself moving mostly on instinct. Assessing, treating, moving along — trying to do your best to teach when you came across any of the new faces. You flitted into red zone when there was a particularly bad patient and then moved to triage so Dr. Shen could take a quick bathroom break.

When you assisted Michael, you moved together like a well oiled machine — and despite the tragedy, it came to you both naturally. You only barely registered the tension between Michael and Dr. Frank Langdon — a senior resident, and someone Michael had taken under his wing. You would have to remember to ask about it.

Time moved by in a blur, but you were painfully aware of every minute, every patient that came under your care. All the blood, all the death, all the tragedy.

It only got worse when Jake arrived, thought were thankful he was alive. He was asking about his girlfriend when you approached.

“Jake?” You got his attention as you began to take in his appearance. Jesus Christ, he was covered in blood.

“It’s mostly her blood,” he told you blankly, eyes moving around the room at the carnage. “It’s mostly her blood.”

You called for a wheelchair, your gaze searching for Michael. He was working on a patient, giving CPR from the look of it, the patient blocked from your view by the charge desk.

“Take a seat, Jake.” You told him softly, gently touching his shoulder. “Let me take a look at you, yeah?”

He sat down, his head swiveling around to locate his girlfriend. “I think—I think I got hit in the leg.”

You nodded, moving him into the yellow zone so you could bandage him up. You were not related and there were no official familial ties, so there were no problems of ethics — at least that was what you told yourself.

He moved to stand, and you pushed his shoulder back down.

“Let me assess you and then I promise I’ll go check on your girlfriend, okay?”

Jake nodded numbly and moved onto the gurney so you could look at his leg. His injury was not as bad as you had feared, and while you knew he would need stitches, you made do with some bandages for the time being.

“What’s her name?” You asked, trying to bring his attention back to you.

“Leah,” he told you, voice heavy with emotion. “I need to see her.”

While you did not understand the full panic he was experiencing, you knew Leah was in good hands.

“She’s with Robby, Jake. Leah is getting the best care.”

He was still not looking at you, and you got him set up with an IV antibiotic drip.

“Jake? Jake, can you call your mom for me? Cell service might not be great right now, but can you try? She’s worried about you.”

He took that information in slowly, before nodding.

The call did not go through, but you made him promise to keep trying while you assured him you were going to check on his girlfriend.

By the time you reached Michael, he was calling time of death and your heart constricted. You wanted to scream. By the look in his eyes, you can see he wanted to as well. You could feel Jack’s gaze on you and when you turned, he simply shook his head at you. You easily translated that to ‘your husband is not doing good’.

“I couldn’t save her.” Michael whispered, and only you caught it.

You gave his hand a subtle squeeze.

Jack was there then, reading the situation perfectly, “No one could have saved her. Maybe if this was a normal day, but it tore right through her heart. There was not much we could do.”

Fuck, you thought, she’s so young. You hoped she did not suffer.

Michael moved to find Jake and you followed him, but he stopped you.

“Can you take over for me in red so I can let Jake know?”

Every part of you screamed to go with him, but you nodded, turning to step back into pace with the work. You tried to push away your emotions, packaging them away to deal with later, but compartmentalizing was tough. You felt guilty for never meeting this girl, someone Jake had so obviously cared a lot about.

You attempted to get lost in the work, but you caught sight of Michael wheeling Jake out of Peds — the current place they have been putting the deceased — and the look on your husband’s face made your heart plummet. He had moved back into the room, leaving Jake just outside and you quickly gestured to a passing nurse to get him back to yellow.

The security guard did not make any comment when you walked into Peds, and you were devastated at what you found. Aside from the deceased, the number of them slowly ticking upwards, it was the sight of Michael on the floor in tears that truly struck you.

After ripping the curtain closed behind you, to block the view into the hall, and give you both just a small amount of privacy, you moved back toward Michael. It had been a long time since you had seen him like this. He had broken down when he told you about Adamson and the weight of his choice, and once he had even broken down after a particularly bad argument, but nothing like this.

“Baby, baby, hey,” you crouched down beside him, but you did not move to touch him.

His breath caught in his throat, but his sobs continued, hyperventilating with his arms pulled across his bent knees.

“Michael,” you tried, a name you had never called him when within the walls of the hospital.

His watery gaze met yours for just a moment, before his eyes were back in his lap, face scrunched. His ears were red, as well as his face, with red rimmed eyes that broke something in you.

“Michael.” You stressed again, moving so your hands hovered just above his arms. “Can you look at me?”

“I—I—I couldn’t—fuck—I didn’t save her.” His breaths came in short bursts, in in in out, in in out, tears coming down his face, his cheeks red.

You found yourself at a loss on how to help him — you knew none of his thoughts were rational at the moment, and anguish rushed through your veins, feeling so helpless. So useless.

An odd idea struck you, and you pulled out your phone before you could doubt yourself. You flipped through a few of your apps before settling on the one you had used to record your baby’s heartbeat.

“Can you take a deep breath with me?” You asked gently. You took a deep breath in through your nose and then out through your mouth.

You didn’t give him time to respond before you were pressing play on the recording. The sound of it filled the room with something other than Michael’s panic, and he quieted just enough to listen to it.

“That’s our baby.” You told him, though the sound of it was obvious enough, racing steadily like hoof beats.

His eyes found yours, and while he was still breathing quickly, he seemed to have returned to the reality around you, rather than stuck in his head. Relief took a bit of the weight from your shoulders.

“Can you breathe with me?” You asked again, finally touching his arm.

His hand found yours immediately and squeezed, but he nodded. You took a few more deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, watching as he mirrored you.

Aside from the quick beats of your baby’s heart, the deep breaths you both took filled the room. You desperately tried to ignore the dead around you, trying to solely focus on the man in front of you. When the recording came to a stop, Michael’s hand twitched toward your phone.

“Can you play it again?”

You nodded, pressing play and handing him your phone. The fast heartbeat filled the space again, and he cradled your phone like it was a lifeline. Maybe it was.

“Very active today.” You told him. “Wouldn’t sit still.”

A ghost of a smile passed over his lips, but it was gone in a moment.

“I have a video file that they sent me from today, but I didn’t want to look at it without you. Figured if either of us looked long enough, we’d be able to tell the gender ourselves.”

“Can we?” He asked, looking at you with tears still in his eyes.

You smiled, moving to sit next to him. You did not know how long the moment was going to last — sooner or later, someone was going to come looking for either of you. You tried to ignore it, trying to center yourself in this moment with Michael, forgetting about the outside world for just a moment.

Clicking on the video you had saved, you both sat quietly watching your baby move. Michael grabbed your hand in his and held it close to his chest. This was only going to be a bandaid, but any distraction was a welcomed one in that moment.

“They’re healthy. Measured 6.6 inches, 11 ounces.” You rattled off, moving your other hand to his head and running your nails along his scalp and through his hair. Any time in the past that he had had a panic attack in your company, you found that at the tail end of it, he enjoyed the feeling of your hands on him. Like it was grounding.

Michael’s hyperventilating had fully stopped, though a handful of tears still slipped through. His face was still scrunched in pain, but he watched the video attentively.

“You did all you could, my love,” you whispered. “No one could have saved her. Not even if it was all of us and just her. I’m so sorry.”

“Jake—”

You hushed him, “Jake is still in shock. He’s grieving. Whatever he said to you, he didn't mean it.”

“No, no, he does. I didn’t save her. I told him I would. I told him.”

You brought your lips to his temple, closing your eyes and willing no tears to come. You couldn’t, not now.

Michael tapped on the video again, watching as your baby moved, kicking against your womb like it was their job.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him, moving across the floor until you met his gaze. “I would never lie to you, you know that. I promise. If anyone could have saved her, it would have been you.”

His face scrunched again like he was going to cry.

You held him in your arms, squeezing him tight to your chest, hoping perhaps the more you squeezed, the more he would believe you.

You held his face in your hands, and willed him to look at you. “I love you so much, Michael. This was not your fault. Blame the shooter, they caused this whole thing. Jake will see that eventually, you haven’t lost him.”

Brown eyes held steady on yours, searching them with a gaze that nearly made you shy away. But you hold strong, wiping away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Robby! Robby!” Dana’s voice came through the curtain, before it was pushed aside.

Dana only blinked at the sight of you, you knelt in front of your husband, both of your faces twisted and pained.

You found your voice, “Just two minutes, Dana. Please.”

She only nodded, closing the curtain again and disappearing.

“I can’t promise the rest of this is going to be any easier, but,” You paused. “Fuck it, if you want to leave, we can blame me right now. Say I have high blood pressure and you want to make sure I get home safe. I don’t care. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

You remembered all the times he covered for you when your morning sickness made you late, or when he had taken time away from the hectic flow to talk you through a bad case, or a death. When he shouldered the weight of an abrasive family member or aggressive patient, even before you were married. The times he let you leave early when you were having a bad day, or encouraged you to take breaks even when he didn’t.

“Let me try to take care of you right now. Please. Whatever you need.”

Michael took a long breath, rubbing his eyes. “Let me just splash some water on my face. After…stay by my side?”

“Done. If you need a minute, tell me to take a break and come with me. I can shoulder that right now.”

You did not say it because you thought he was weak, but simply because you felt you had the capacity to bear the brunt of the remainder of this shift. People knew he was going to worry about you regardless of the situation, so him ‘checking in’ would not phase them.

“Michael,” you started as you both moved to stand, him offering a hand to help you, “You’ve always been so great with Jake, just give him some time.” You paused, “You’re going to be an amazing father to our child.”

Tears flooded his eyes again and you felt like you had just made it worse while trying to make it better.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. How on earth did I—”

You cupped his cheek and hushed him again, bringing his face to yours until your foreheads touched. “I’m the lucky one.”

He kissed you softly, before bringing you into a hug, careful of your growing bump.

When you parted, he took one last deep breath before facing the chaos that awaited you both out in the ED. You knew the heavier parts of your conversation were going to have to be shelved until you got home.

Michael moved toward the closest bathroom and you rushed back to red zone. There were no words to exchange with Jack, but with a knowing glance at him, he seemed to understand.

“Robby’s moving me to red. Bilal’s got pink covered.” You told him, referencing the night attending.

Abbot only nodded.

When Michael returned only a minute later, you watched him — had you not known him that well, you might not have been able to guess what had just transpired. You were thankful no one else in the hospital knew him as well as you did.

You got back to work, busying your hands to try to stop your mind from worrying too much. Whatever he had done in the bathroom, he had clearly thrown his panic attack into a bag and stuffed it deep inside his mind. It made your heart ache, but you would help him unpack it once you were both in the safety of your home.

Michael still made sound decisions, and not once did you feel the need to question his judgement. Jack was steadfast with you both, and you were grateful for him.

—

It was 10pm by the time the dust began to settle and the situation finally simmered to a more controllable level. You were beat and you had only been there a few hours, Michael encouraging you to take a seat and have some water while he checked on a handful of things. You took that moment to find Jake — who now had been stitched up and was with his mom.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I really wish I could have met her.”

He nodded numbly, “You would’ve really liked her.”

A sad smile formed on your lips, “I’m sure I would have.”

You wanted to tell him to go easy on Robby, but the words did not form on your tongue. It was still too soon, and while you did not want Jake to blame him, you knew it wasn’t the time or place.

You parted from them sadly, before going to check on the med students and finally finding Michael with Jack.

It was a half hour later that you both finally left, Michael following you silently to your car. You were still digesting it all, wondering how the hell you were even going to begin processing it.

At home, you both quickly discarded your scrubs to the floor and made your way to the bathroom. It went unsaid that you both needed to wash this shift off, more so mentally than physically, but being clean would certainly make you feel better.

It was amazing how well you had learned to read each other, and you held onto him under the warm water for a long moment. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing the soap, sudsing up his hands and gently cleaning your skin. You relished in the feeling of him.

Once you rinsed off, you returned the favor. You moved your hands over his arms, his chest and then his back. You added a kiss here and there, knowing he enjoyed your touch just as much. He held your belly in his hands, eyes faraway again — but you brought your hand to his face to get his attention.

You kissed him, holding onto him and trying to translate all the things you felt into it. He returned the kiss and you felt yourself sigh in contentment.

It was quiet, but cathartic.

You both dried off, and changed before collapsing into your bed, Michael immediately pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest to listen to the calming sound of his heart.

Moving off his chest, you pulled him close to you and let him rest his head on you, his hand going to your belly. His breathing was slow and controlled, but you knew his mind was racing. You held him tight, your fingers going to his hair.

“I’d like to talk about today.” You said. “Not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow, or this week. But eventually.”

He was quiet, fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes on your stomach. “We can do that.”

“I’m here when you’re ready.” You told him.

He moved to press his lips to yours, peppering your face with kisses, before bringing you back to his chest. He held you for a long time and you did not even dare let go.

“I saw what it was.” He said.

“Oh?” You questioned against his chest, leaning your head back to look at him.

“Our baby.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

He grinned and kissed you deeply. Truth was, it didn’t matter. And as you held each other, you knew it was all going to be okay.

[ Next ]

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready

I need to give him a hug

[hexlenx]

LIE DETECTOR — aaron taylor-johnson

In which both you and your husband were invited to do a lie detector test in the vanity fair channel.

note: I only own the story not the channel and our daddy Aaron. This was also inspired by Ariana Grande and Cynthia's lie detector episode so some of the questions in this story might be the same as the episode. I honestly don't like Sam Tayler that much because of her marrying a male so much younger than her but I can't lie that she's a decently good person, she matched Aaron's freak but a bit too much—

warnings!: none really.

__________________

"Hello I am Mr. Johnson, married to this lovely amazing woman here." Aaron Johnson greeted towards the large camera in front of him and his wife, who was beside him blushing as well as smiling widely at what he said, before moving his gaze towards you. Everyone in the room as well as the viewers could see the love in his eyes with the way he looks at you.

"And I am [ Your Name ] Johnson, the wife of this very handsome and devilishly charming bloke beside me." You grinned at the camera while moving your hand towards your husband's hand before holding on to it. This lead to Aaron subconsciously intertwining both of your hands before mindlessly holding it up for him to kiss your joined hands.

It was an adorable sight for everyone watching as they could feel the pure love coming from them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, you are here to take a lie detector test. One will be attached to a machine for the test to work and the other will be sitting in the chair in front of you to ask you some questions. So who will be ready to take the hot seat?" The woman behind the camera said to the couple. After hearing this, you raised your free hand taking you and your husband by surprise.

"I think I can go first." You said while you looked at your husband, seeing if he agrees.

"You sure? I can go first for you." Aaron proposed but you shook your head and said you were okay to go first.

Now seated in your places, the woman, Stephanie, who was a lie detector professional put a black strap around your chest as well as a smaller one around your index finger.

"You alright, love?" Aaron asked his lover while smiling slightly when he saw you closing your eyes when the straps were put on you. He could tell you were about to enjoy this test and he could tell he would as well.

"Yes! Does this detect my anxiety as well?" You asked towards Stephanie who paused for a while.

"Yes, it can."

"Oh fuck me." You cursed making your husband laugh at your misery.

"Oh yea, laugh at my misery, why don't you?" This made Aaron laugh even harder before composing himself.

"Right. So before we start with the serious question, I need you to answer some simple questions to calibrate the machine. You okay with that, love?" Aaron inquired.

"Oh, Absolutely." You agreed. Aaron nodded and cleared his throat before asking you the questions.

"Alright, are you [ Your Name ] [Last Name ] Johnson?"

"Yes."

Stephanie nodded.

"Were you born in [ Birthday ]?"

"Yes."

Another nod from Stephanie.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes but at the same time I feel really excited."

Another nod.

"Were you and Mr.Johnson married in [ date ] and at [ time ]?"

"That's oddly very specific but yes." Aaron chuckled at this because he agrees.

"The machine has been calibrated." Stephanie informed the couple to which they nodded. You adjusted in your seat before breathing out to ready yourself for the real questions.

"You ready, hon?" Aaron looked at his wife who nodded with a small 'yep'.

"Love, you've won two oscars and was awarded of the best young actress award in 2013. Would you say that you have the best work ethic?" This made you think a bit because you definitely don't have the best one right now but it was alright and you were comfortable.

"I wouldn't say I have the best, I mean there are some times where it's the worst and there are also times where it worked in the most conventional way. I would just say I'm a workaholic." You explained it as best as you could making Stephanie nod a yes from behind the lie detector. This caused you to beam in excitement, you knew to yourself that you weren't lying and seeing that it was confirmed made you excited.

Seeing you excited made Aaron smile at you fondly. He always loved seeing you light up, it's one of the things that made his days brighter even on his worst days. He guesses that this lie detector test would help both of you gain more trust in each other in some way.

"Oh you are definitely a workaholic. Speaking of, the next question is are you a workaholic?" Aaron chuckled out when he saw you sarcastically roll your eyes.

"Duh? I just did a few moments ago."

"Truthful." Stephanie said making you smile at her.

"Next is, would you work with this person?" Aaron slid a photo of Ben Barnes to which you chuckled.

"Oh my god, not Benjamin!" You dramatically exclaimed as you saw the photo of your long time friend, to which everyone chuckled in amusement. "We've worked together multiple times, secretly. Though Aaron knows this because he's 'his brother from another mother' if you get what that reference means." You winked at the camera.

"Hey! We're supposed to keep Padfoot a secret, what would his banshee of a mother think of now?" Aaron playfully reprimanded you to which you laughed because you understood his joke quite well.

"James, you practically announced that he was living with you since we were teens." You deadpanned continuing the joke as your husband playfully glared at you.

"Everything she said is the truth." Stephanie said, making everyone watching gape as you both basically revealed the Sirius Black and James Potter fancasts are best friends to the point of barging in each other's homes like the Harry Potter characters.

Both you and your husband exchanged amused glances before continuing on with the questions.

"What do you think of this photo?" Aaron slid another photo of you and Sam Taylor smiling at the camera on the way to the Tony Awards.

"Aw, it's Sammy! This was probably one of my favorite photos because if it weren't for Sam, me and Aaron wouldn't be together to this day. Because fun fact, Sam was the one who kept trying to put us together whenever she could when we met each other in the film Kick-Ass. It also just happened that I was the love interest of Dave Lizewski so it kind of made her set on her 'matchmaking' as she calls it. She's like a mother to me, truly." You explained in fondness, it was true. The woman was not that very liked due to her marrying a way more younger man than her but behind all that, she was truly only a woman who loved to love. Her movies directed by her showed that.

Sam saw what you and Aaron had and wanted you to be able to experience the type of love she couldn't have when she was younger. A love that was shared with a pair at the same age or close to their age. Sam loved her husband who was 34 now but even she knew that it wouldn't last, she was 57 for god's sake. She knew she would end up divorced sooner or later and she wanted to see you end up with someone you love and is the same age, she didn't want you to end up like her. Because she truly thought of you as her daughter as well.

Aaron stared at you with the warmest and loving eyes you could ever see in a person. He was deeply in love with you and the viewers can see it, feel it. He knew that you loved talking about Sam, she became like a mother figure to him too. She was the one who he confided to whenever he was worried about making the wrong move towards you and he never once regretted asking her for help because he wouldn't be married to you if he did.

"Alright, love. Next question is—" Aaron scoffed off a laugh threatening to burst out of his mouth when he read the question.

"What? What is it?" You asked worriedly to your husband who shook his head no before stuttering out the question.

"Do you believe the moon landing was fake?"

"What the fuck? What kind of question is that? No!" You voiced out in confusion. Of course you knew it was real! Right?

"Inconclusive." Stephanie hid a smile as she said this, the machine was indeed saying it was inconclusive.

Aaron bursted out of laughing as soon as he heard that.

"You think it was fake?" Your husband laughed out while smacking his thigh from amusement.

"No! I didn't until Stephanie put that in me!" You exclaimed as you looked absolutely repulsed and confused. Maybe this is rigged.

"Oh god, that is hilarious! I am never letting this go down, love." Aaron breathed out as he tried to compose himself. You on the other hand, covered your face with your hands in disbelief.

"Do you believe the earth is flat?"

"No!"

"Deceptive."

Another burst of laughter as well as a gasp of disbelief.

"You think the Earth's flat now?" Aaron was almost crying because of how entertaining this was. This was the best day of his life, one of them at least. "Let's try again, Do you think the Earth is flat?"

"No, the earth is round." You said, now much more calmer than before. This made Stephanie nod in confirmation that you were indeed telling the truth.

"I think you were still stuck with the moon landing, love."

"I was definitely still stuck there."

"Alright there is one more question before we switch." Aaron announced after a series of questions went by. You nodded and slightly adjusted in your seat.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course, I do, very much." You answered instantly and with a single nod from Stephanie, Aaron smiled softly at you to which you did the same.

"Why?" Aaron added making you pretend to think, which made him chuckle a bit.

"The right question for that is 'cuz, why not?" You said with a smile as your husband only raised a brow signalling you to elaborate.

"What's there not to love about you or yourself in general?" You said softly as you looked into his eyes with that same look that he has on his. Both of you stared at each other in silence. God, He thinks he just fell in love with you again. He thought as he took in your whole being in front of him.

"I don't know—a lot, I guess?" He shrugged seemingly nonchalant but you knew better.

"Well I love them and love all of you." You said short and honestly. To which Stephanie nodded once again to confirm that what you said was true. The Lie detector professional knew she doesn't need to speak to confirm this so she settled with a simple nod like from before because she did not want to ruin this cute moment the soulmates were having. Yes, she thinks both of you are soulmates. Not everyone would look at their spouse like that even after getting married or spending time with each other.

"God fuckin' damn it, I think I just fell in love with you over and over again."

[ratatoilett]

episode title : the one where she suggests marriage (again)

nylu's note : excited to make this a mundane cutesy series of they're shenanigans omg!

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-onee @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast @nina-from-317

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA'S APARTMENT - TUESDAY - 11:00 AM

at this point, sukuna has accepted that you are an unavoidable disaster in his life.

like an earthquake. or a tornado. or a really persistent telemarketer that keeps calling even when he explicitly tells them to stop.

he doesn't know when it happened. one day, you showed up. the next, you never left.

and the worst part? he let's you.

not without protest, of course. plenty of "get out before i throw you out," and "touch my stuff and you lose a hand," and "if you breathe near me while i'm eating, i will make sure you regret it."

none of which work.

because here you are, again, sitting on his couch, eating his chips, watching his TV—wearing his hoodie (at this point he doesn't even care how you got that in the first place).

you're kicked back, feet on the coffee table, and way too damn comfortable for someone who has been explicitly told to leave at least 500 times.

sukuna scowls.

"okay", you announce, popping another chip into your mouth. "new plan."

he doesn't even look up from his phone. "no."

"you didn't even hear it yet!"

"and yet, i already know it's gonna be fucking stupid."

you ignore him, as always. "hypothetically speaking, what if we got married?"

his head snaps up so fast you think he might've given himself whiplash.

"the hell did you just say?"

"i said—"

"i heard what you said," he growls, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. "the question is, why do you insist on making me suffer?"

you tilt your head, lips curling into a grin. "oh, so you admit the thought of being my husband affects you?"

"i admit that the thought makes me want to set myself on fire."

you hum, unbothered. "well, that's not a no."

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. "explain. now."

"well," you begin, dramatically tossing a chip into your mouth, "if we got married, i'd finally have a legal excuse to annoy you forever."

"you don't need a legal excuse. you're already doing it."

you ignore that. "plus, think about it! you, me, joint bank accounts—"

"absolutely fucking not."

"—matching outfits—"

"i will end you."

"—and cute little pet names! i'd call you 'suku-bear'."

sukuna glares. "i will throw you off my balcony."

"come on! you'd have cute nicknames for me too."

he smirks, and for a second, you think you might've won.

then—

"yeah. it's 'nuisance.'"

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "how dare you? i was going to give you my last name, and this is how you treat me?"

sukuna levels you with a flat look. "you break into my apartment on a daily basis. you eat my food. you talk too much. you leave your crap everywhere. i should be charging you rent."

"that's actually a great idea! hypothetically speaking, what if i just moved in permanently?"

sukuna exhales so hard you think he might combust. "get. out."

"but i brought dinner," you chirps, holding up a takeout bag. "your favorite."

silence.

a long, long, long silence.

"fine. you can stay."

you grin in victory, setting the food down on the table. "that's what i thought."

sukuna rolls his eyes, snatching the takeout bag like you might change your mind and steal it back. "for the record, i still hate you."

"for the record, you love me," you counter plopping down beside him. "and someday, hypothetically speaking, you'll admit it."

sukuna doesn't respond, too busy stuffing food into his mouth.

but later, when he thinks you're not looking, you catch it—

the way his eyes linger on you, soft in a way they never are with anyone else.

the way his finger twitch, like he wants to pull you closer but refuses to give in.

the way his lips curl just slightly at your stupid jokes, even as he scowls at you.

the way, when you eventually fall asleep on his couch (again), he doesn't wake you up.

he just sighs.

long. heavy. defeated.

then he grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over to you.

not gently, of course. that would be admitting things.

but he lingers. just for a second.

and when you mumble something in your sleep—something ridiculous, something about hypothetically marrying him—he just shakes his head.

because someday—someday—he's going to give in.

he already knows it.

and, damn you, so do you.

[oceantornadoo]

rose scented scrubs

ex-husband Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x f!reader

the post-divorce love confession fic of my dreams, word count 5.5k

ps I know Dana said it was her last shift in one of the episodes but idc deal with it I had to write her.

-

It was a few hours into your book when you realized you’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It had been the first cafe to catch your eye, advertising a yummy pastry you’d been aching to try on a beautiful late Saturday morning. Only after you’d noticed the fourth person in scrubs at the counter did you realize your mistake. The cafe had two entrances - one on the busy street you came in on, the other right outside of Pittsburg Medical Center.

Current workplace of your ex-husband.

You hadn't been near the hospital in months. When you'd been married (the past tense of it a hard pill to swallow, let alone think), you would drive by the hospital on your way to work, leaving early so you could stop by and get a kiss from the man who'd already been up since 5am. After the papers were signed, ink dried and heart broken, you told yourself to revel in those extra twenty minutes of sleep. Now you could drive straight to work, no pit stop needed, and all you had to give up was your marriage.

An almost-kid in black scrubs burst through the door, scanning his phone like his life depended on it. With his flustered expression, he looked like the stereotype of a country boy losing his way in the big city. You checked the clock - 3pm. A little over halfway into the usual twelve-hour shift from 7 to 7. The knowledge sprang up unbidden, carved into your brain by how long you’d lived and breathed it. “Hello! Can I get one black coffee, no cream or sugar, two lattes, regular milk…” he ended with a total of ten drinks, an amount the barista behind the counter barely seemed flustered by. At least for one of them, it wasn’t their first day on the job. He ended up near your chair and the urge to ask was too great, desperation clawing its way out of your throat.

“Are they making the interns get drinks now?” You quip, immediately cursing yourself. There was absolutely no reason to interact, who knows if he’s even in Robby’s department, why- “Yeah, actually. We had a pretty rough time last month, so the admin staff is giving us a new food and drink stipend instead of more staff.” He laughs to himself before remembering that you're a stranger, his cheeks apple red. “Are you a doctor?” He asks. Now it just sounded creepy if you said no, but there was absolutely no chance you could say yes. “No, but I’ve got friends at the hospital.” Friends being Dana, who forces you into monthly mental health check ins where she stares at you until you cry.

“Who’s your friend? If you want, you could stop by with me. I haven’t memorized her name yet, well it’s only my first month, but the front desk worker is super nice, especially since the ER is slow right now.” You gulp at the pit (figurative, not literal) that you’ve dug yourself into. Of course you had to talk to the ER intern. It couldn’t have been Peds, where they’d invite you to say hi to cute babies from the NICU glass? You’ve done it once or twice, bored of waiting on Robby and making friends with all the nurses.

You open to give your refusal and apologies but get interrupted by the barista shouting “Dennis!” Three containers of drinks appear out of nowhere, and you can’t help but cringe at how Dennis has no way to carry them all. He’s currently attempting to balance one on top of the other, and your duty as a Good Samaritan suddenly becomes clear. The thought of seeing Dana, and perhaps Collins or McKay if you’re lucky, makes your heart swell. Robby will be easy to avoid if you stay vigilant. Tucking your book into your tote, you stand and prepare yourself for battle. It’s easy to make your way to Dennis, who looks like a circus performer, and grab two of the drink trays. “C’mon, kid. Let’s caffeinate these people.”

It feels like a dream you’ve dreamt a thousand times. Walking into the ER, looking fabulous with your makeup just right and your best perfume on. Dropping off a sick friend and running into Robby, stunning him with your six-month post-divorce glow up. Or maybe it’s a year later and you bring in an injured and scandalously younger boyfriend to show him what he’s missing. After those dreams, you always wake up empty, soul heavy. In other ones, it’s you on the gurney, letting him prove to himself he can save the people he loves, that you’re not just another Adamson. A romantic revelation that would fix those last hollow months of your marriage, grief and regret heavy on his tongue but never making its way out. Those end in tears, your face wet when you wake.

You’d never imagined this - your best weekend leggings and your favorite tote swinging from your shoulder as you follow in what has to be Robby's baby intern. You nod at the woman behind the counter, a new person you don’t know. She seems about to stop you from going in but then you hear a clear voice yell your name. So much for an in and out mission.

McKay greeted you with a warm smile, taking one of the drink trays from you as she nudges your shoulder. “Long time no see!” Her friendly tone makes you ache with regret. You’ve kept up with Dana only because she forced her way into your new, solitary life. It felt uncouth to reach out to McKay or Collins, like it would seem a ploy to get back to Robby. Shame ruins through your veins at your actions, or lack thereof. “Hey, I’m sorry for the ghosting. Been going through some stuff. I like your new bangs!” She doesn’t let you distract her, brows staying knitted at your second sentence. For once, you hate how determined she can be, her maternal instincts knowing no bounds. “What stuff?” McKay pulls you off the side, ignoring the drinks in both of your hands that are definitely in demand.

“Well, I’m sure you already know.” You roll your shoulder forward to emphasize your point. It’s pretty clear what you’re talking about, but the word ‘divorce’ feels too ugly to mention between you two. She doesn’t seem to get the memo, looking you up and down like she’s expecting the answer to pop out of the sweater you’re wearing. “I don’t get paid enough for you to waste my time being all facetious.” You snort, but the anticipation of your next words sobers you quickly. “Moving out, finding a new place, all the paperwork. It’s been a lot, but I should’ve kept up and I’m sorry.” Her lips purse in confusion. There’s a strain around her shoulders and you hate that this talk might be causing it, probably reminding her of her own divorce. “Did something happen at your old apartment? We don’t talk personal lives too much, but Robby would’ve mentioned a flood or something. Or did you guys finally get a bigger place?” The thought of that lightens her eyes, a rare smile you don’t see too much in the ER. Your heart sinks.

Robby didn’t tell her.

Of course, he left the hard stuff to you, once again. “Cass…” you trail off, unsure how to continue. Once again, you’re saved by an interruption. “What are you doing, robbing my best staff and not saying hi?” Dana appears, her short white-blond hair framing her face like a stern angel. You’ve haven’t seen her in a month and a half since she took some time off to deal with personal stuff after a particularly rough shift. She’s never been a big texter, so you anticipated more information at your future catch up, planned for next week. “I ran into one of the interns looking lost in the cafe over and simply had to help.” You tease. Your eyes meet hers but immediately look over her head, searching for him. Wherever she goes, he’s not far behind, always paying his dues in following her wisdom.

“He’s in Trauma 1, helping a drowning victim.” Fuck, you’re caught. Dana smirks at you like she’s inside your head. McKay’s eyes twinkle like there’s something romantic about to happen and you mourn the fact you’re about to give her yet another reason to not believe in a man, again. “I wasn’t looking for him, I was looking for Collins.” You bite, ignoring how McKay’s confusion has reached an all time high to your right. To distract them both, you push the drink tray forward. “I think there’s a hazelnut latte somewhere in here for you, Ms. Busybody.” Dana narrows her eyes as she finds the drink you’re talking about, plucking it out with precision. One drink down, three to go and then you can leave. That intern, Dennis, is nowhere to be found. You’d leave the drinks on the desk, but you know that would be a hazard in so many ways. Plus, some person would probably grab a drink that’s not theirs and you can’t be responsible for pandemonium - you know what lack of caffeine can do to a healthcare worker. Thankfully, the white lids read their contents: black coffee, hot tea, and…hot chocolate? Maybe there’s a kid who needed some comfort.

“Do you know who the rest are for?” You question. Dana shrugs and you can sense some ulterior motive behind her eyes. “Sounds like a question for Whittaker.” That must be Dennis. In the crowd of gurneys and scrubs, you can’t seem to find him. “The hot tea is for Collins and the hot chocolate is for Javadi, one of the interns. Of course, you know who the black coffee is for.” Double fuck.

You had hoped it was someone else who had a taste for black sludge, but unfortunately only one doctor does. Cowardly, you turn to McKay and give her your best try of puppy dog eyes. “Do you mind passing these out?” She snorts, clearly amused. “As if I’m getting between you and Robby mid shift. I remember last October all too well.” You stiffen at the memory. Surprising the staff with pumpkin cookies you’d baked, shrieking when Robby had grabbed you by the hips and ordered you into an unused storage room. How McKay had opened the door (“looking for supplies, I swear I did not want to see any of that”) with your hand in your husband’s scrubs and your leg, chilly in a skirt for easy access, wrapped around his waist.

“I see Collins. It was nice seeing you, McKay.” It’s a rude goodbye, but you can’t stomach anything more. Collins’ signature red jacket is easy to spot as she comes out of one of the nearby rooms, conferring sternly with what seems to be another intern. They just keep multiplying.

“Like I told you, you wait for my instructions, you don’t just intubate because-“ Your eyes catch and the emotional weight around your shoulders sags a bit more. She sends the intern off with one more warning before greeting you with a slight smile. “I heard you needed a hot tea.” You brandish the drink tray like a shield. She takes the cup delicately, taking a small sip and sighing in delight. “I haven’t seen you in six months. Work trip or something? Robby’s been worse than usual.” He didn’t tell her either. It’s starting to look like the only people who know about your divorce are you, Robby, and Dana. It begs the question why, but you’re not strong enough to answer. You know Collins would be a good person to confide in, but you don’t want to drop a bomb on what looks like an exhausting day. Her outward mask might be tough, but once you got over the awkwardness of her being Robby’s long-ago fling, you’ve always been able to see right through it.

“Something like that. You okay?” You move her off to the side before she can get swept into another case. She gives you another one of those barely-there smiles, and you ache to think that she’s been struggling with something, maybe worse than you. Maybe she sees something reflected back, because in a rare move, she opens up. “I had a miscarriage a month ago.” On instinct, you find an empty chair to set the drink tray on before sweeping her in your arms. She doesn’t like to be touched by many, especially at work, but she makes an exception for you.

“Oh, Heather.” It’s all you can say. She doesn’t cry, too battle worn and aware of the eyes on her, but the breath she takes is a near thing. After a few seconds, she pulls back, tight lipped and eyes shining. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there, but this isn’t about me. Oh, honey.” You murmur. You squeeze her hand, trying to impress on her all the things you cannot say. Heather Collins doesn’t like empty platitudes, so you don’t try to give her any. For a second, she squeezes your hand back before her mask slides back into place. “Thank you. Robby’s been kind, let me go home early the day it happened and pick the best shifts. It seems he kept it secret, so I’m thankful.” You don’t mention that the last time you talked to him was six months ago in a lawyers office. You know Robby and even if you were still together, he would’ve taken this secret to the grave. One of the things you love about him.

She switches the topic to you, asking about your supposed trip, but a miracle, or rather a group of interns, rumbles past you. You might not be a doctor but they’re easy to spot, unsure or overconfident, spilling unhelpful advice like gospel. “Hey! Any of you Javadi?” You call out. The girl nearest you whips her head around like you just cursed her name. She looks barely past college, hair pulled back into a ponytail of midnight black. “Me. I- that’s me.” You bend down, plucking the hot chocolate out of its tray and handing it to her. Her eyes are bright and thankful, like it's a winning lottery ticket instead of a drink. “Thank you! I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, Doctor…”

“Robby!” The middle intern says, her posture stiff with self-confidence. “Um…” you trail off, looking to Collins for help before remembering she doesn’t know. “I heard Princess and Perlah talking. You’re Robby’s wife, right?” All you can do is gape at the gall of her, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Collins restrains a laugh, unhelpful, and the other interns are looking at you like you’ve hung the stars. What in the world do you-

“Indeed. Last time I checked, this was a hospital to learn, not gossip. Keep it moving, you three.” His voice is like melted honey, warm and gooey and too comforting to name. Collins mentions something about a patient, taking her leave with raised eyebrows. It’s hard, but you try not to acknowledge the voice behind you as you watch her walk away. Only when her red jacket disappears from view do you turn.

He doesn’t look good. It’s what you said you wanted, of course, but the truth is, you’re just concerned. There’s dark circles under his eyes, almost covered by those black rounded glasses of his. A few new grays grace the side of his head, stark against the rest of him. The wrinkles on his face make him look aged, not the wise wizard you forced him to be for Halloween a few years ago. His scruffy beard dots his jawline and the ache to feel it is so deep, you fear it’ll never leave.

“Hi.” You whisper shyly, a knock-kneed girl instead of the woman you are. He smiles that gentle smile of his, crow's feet unapologetic, and it seems to turn back time. Just yesterday, you might’ve been making dinner together or cuddling on the couch. “Hi. I heard you’ve got a drink for me?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you point to the chair in between you. Deft fingers find his cup and pull. It’s hard not to watch them work, not to trace the calluses and the nimble movements. “Since when do interns order you around?” He asks, taking a second to gulp down his coffee. You stare at the movement of his throat, so many dirty memories making themselves known in the back of your head. “I’ve been demoted, I guess.” It didn’t mean to come out like that but it’s clear that’s what he thinks, a sudden frown appearing on his face.

“Is something wrong? Some paperwork I need to sign?” He asks in a burst. Your stomach churns at the rejection and instinctively, you take a step back. He seems to try to follow you, but the leg of the chair stops him. “No, I just - It’s funny, I guess. I was at that new cafe across the street and ran into an intern who looked like he needed help and well, I figured it would be nice to see Cassie and Heather, so here I am.” You end your rant with a shrug, instantly regretting every decision that led you here. Of course you were going to run into him. There wasn’t any other path, not for you. And of course, he just thinks you’re here for paperwork. He’s clearly moved on, even if he looks like he’s hurting. It’s time you do to.

“Well, that’s all my drinks, so…” Trailing off, you look around desperately for help. The Pitt seems to be against you, everyone following their standard practice of leaving you two alone when all you want is to be away from him. “How are you?” He whispers like a secret, voice raspy but sure. Emotion swells in your sternum instantly at his question. Soft eyes take your awkwardness in stride as he steps around the chair until he’s on your left, back to the Pitt. The familiarity of it is like a bullet to chest. “I’m fine. You?”

Robby shrugs, letting you trace the lines of his shoulders under that familiar sweatshirt. "Rough couple of months, to be honest." You blink at his honesty. That same honesty that led to that fateful conversation - you'd served him the divorce papers, but he was the one to suggest lawyers and due process. The papers were meant to wake him up, make him realize how much he needed to fix this, but all they did was end things.

"I wanted to see you. Dana wouldn't give me your new address, something about not being ready. Plus, I think you blocked me," he laughs at himself like it's funny, what he's admitting. A thousand questions form, 'why' and 'when' and 'what'. You'd blocked him and deleted his number the moment the papers finalized, knowing you weren't strong enough to truly recover if you could talk to him. It looks like he didn't do the same, and a rare burst of hope shines through the fog that's made itself at home in your brain. You gape, no words coming to you.

One of those hands, strong and capable and not yours, raises to push his glasses up his nose. You freeze.

It's still there.

Three years ago, ring shopping to find a perfect band. He got a black plastic version as well, something he could wear to work without worrying about blood or a rogue patient. That same black band still graces his ring finger, a blaring alarm that things aren't what they seemed.

"Michael." There's nothing else to add, your eyes still trained on his hand. Of course, all-seeing as he is, he picks up on what you're looking at right away. He's quiet, face worn with contemplation. "Why?" You ask, voice wavering. Tears form in an instant, choking any air in your lungs. "I couldn't take it off," he admits, somber. You think of your own ring, tucked away in your new bedstand that you had to build yourself. "I don't understand," you rasp.

"Baby, I've been-"

"Robby, we need you!" A voice breaks through the bubble you're in. Without realizing, you've become almost nose-to-nose, curling your hands to your chest in an attempt to not touch him. He sighs, pulling back a little, and it's like losing the warmth of the sun. "You know where the staff lounge is?" He asks, smiling when you nod immediately. "Wait for me. I'll be there soon." He hands you his coffee and rips himself away, already reaching for a hand sanitizer station.

-

In the staff lounge, your book sits unopened on the table. It's hard to do when your mind won't stop whirling, wondering if you've gotten this all wrong. The door bursts open and you snap up, hopeful, only to shrink a little when you realize it's not him. You recover quickly, not wanting to seem rude in a place you're not supposed to be in. "Hi, Kiara." You've only met her once or twice, but she's the kind of comforting soul you'd remember. She gives you a smile and then beelines for the electric kettle in the back. "Mrs. Robby, how are you?" You gulp at her question, realizing your ex-husband truly told no one about his divorce. "I've been better, but nothing I can't handle. You?" It's hard not to be honest when she's so easy to talk to, pulling out a chair for her to wait for her kettle. "One of those days. A mother just lost her child, so I'm making her a hot tea." Despite the dark news, the tight-lipped smile she sends you seems genuine. You ask about the ER overall and she tells you about the mass-casualty event that happened last month. You know a bit from Jake's mom, checking in on him through her instead of wanting to bother a grieving teenager who'd already been frustrated about the divorce.

As the kettle finishes, the door bangs open again. This time it is Robby, who looks flustered but sends you a smile anyways. It's like licking a spoon of brownie batter - secretive and a little wrong, but delicious anyways. You shouldn't have waited, should've left when you could, but deep down you need your questions answered. Kiara passes him with a cup in her hands, whispering something into his ear as she leaves. "I will." Robby replies, making you frown at the secrecy. Usually, if they're discussing a patient, they'll do it in front of you without names. Whatever that was had to be personal, and you're too emotionally raw not to ask.

"What was that?" You mutter, a little unkindly. Robby takes a seat, and you push his coffee cup towards him. His knee taps yours in thanks and stays there, its presence bewildering but not unwelcome. "She told me to use the communication skills we've been talking about." A laugh bursts out of you and you regret it instantly, your knee pressing into his. "Since when do you have communication skills?" You chortle. That's one of the things he might have at work, but never in a relationship. It used to be a joke between you, how you had to pry his true feelings out of him at the beginning of your relationship, but it turned to bitter satire in the end.

A heavy hand lands on your thigh, burning its way through the thin fabric of your leggings. "I know my communication has been...lacking," you hold back a snort, "but after last month, I've been talking to Kiara. Seems like I should've been following my own advice all this time." He admits, squeezing your thigh at the end of his sentence. Wide-eyed shock works its way through your veins. He actually addressed the major reason you said you wanted a divorce. The contentment you feel is like a nugget of gold, there for you to hoard and keep safe from judgement.

"Robby, that's wonderful. I'm proud of you, really." You exclaim, finding his hand on your leg and covering it with your own. The silicone of his ring digs into your fingers, and you let it. "I like it better when you call me Michael." He confesses. His chair squeaks as he turns towards you, shifting positions until his knees bracket yours on either side. His free hand raises to cup your face, familiar fingers petting your hair and your skin.

"Why are you wearing your ring, Michael?" You blurt, the need for his answer too great to hold back. Your ex-husband sighs, leaning forward until his face is all you see. On instinct, you reach out to take off his glasses and set them on the table. He always complained they hurt his nose, so he only wears them when reading. You brush the imprint left behind, smoothing down red marks and tracing the places you used to kiss every morning.

"You're still the love of my life, sweetheart." He confesses as you stiffen. He takes the lead, guiding you out of the chair and onto the worn couch on the far side of the room. It's easier to sink into his hold here, your face and your heart in the palms of his hands. Yells echo through the door, giving you an out to slide back and interrogate.

"That's how you treat the love of your life? You barely talked to me for months, Robby. You refused to go to therapy or marriage counseling and..." What you leave unsaid is too hurtful to bare. An old insecurity that was watered by months of loneliness, Robby picking up shifts to skip out on weekends together. "And what, baby? Don't hold back now." He practically demands, tugging your legs into his lap so you're under the full force of his stare. "And you started skipping weekends with me. Taking shifts when we were supposed to go on dates. Smelling different, like perfume instead of disinfectant." You whisper the last part, staring at your hands in your lap.

He laughs. An actual laugh.

You try to push off of him, but he tugs you until all the fight drains out. "I really fucked this up, haven't I?" He states. Robby almost never swears, so the use of one makes you pay attention. "Will you stop being an asshole and tell me what you mean?" You pout, upset that your emotions are getting brushed off. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip that juts out, tucking it back until he touches your teeth. "Detergent, baby, I swear. They found some awful cheap laundry detergent for our scrubs. I had some bad luck for weeks, fluids on me every day." He reasons, but you refuse to believe it. He knows you too well, of course. Robby tilts your chin until your eyes catch on a box of Rose Detergent for Hospitals, Clinics, and More near the trash can.

"This is what I mean, Michael! This kind of shit was in my head for months but I couldn't talk to you." He sobers instantly, that constant forlorn expression of his making itself known on his face. Robby interlaces your hands, laying his in your lap. Against your will, it grounds you. "The administration had wanted me to do a post-COVID remembrance for all the workers we lost and I just couldn't. Couldn't look at you without being reminded that I lived when so many better people died. I felt like I didn't deserve our happiness, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." Only when he brushes your face do you realize it's wet. This is what you wanted for months, to hear the thoughts in his head instead of his sarcastic quips or his no-nonsense tone. This was your husband.

He held you to his chest, letting you calm down to the sound of his heartbeat. There's a compulsion under your skin, wanting to bind you two together until you don't know where you end and he begins. Ambulance sirens and pattering footsteps and shouts of pain all fade away when you work your hands through his scruffy beard, admiring the glints of silver that show here and there. "You might be a doctor, but you're an idiot." He nods, letting you curl further into him. "I don't regret divorcing you, because I am not doing your emotional labor for you." Another nod, this one shorter and more serious. "But I'm willing to try again, if you want to. The right way, where we go to counseling and actually talk." Finally, a grin. It changes his entire face, muscle and sinew rearranging into the man you once knew.

He doesn't have to answer. His kiss does it for him.

It's soft and tentative, barely there. A surge of anger sinks through you at how utterly bull-headed he's been. You push into him until his back hits the sofa, climbing him until your pelvises meet in a kiss. You pour months of resentment into your kiss and he meets you halfway, muscles under you tensing as you clash. "You asked to get lawyers." You bite his jaw as you say it, a fact you've been stewing over. "Wanted to make sure you got my money." He squeezes your ass, pulling you into him until you roll your hips over his cock, barely contained by his scrubs. This isn't the place for your first recoupling, but with how the couch is out of the way of the window over the door, and that no one seems to be looking for him, it'll do for now.

"Such a stubborn old man." You gripe, then gasp as he nips your neck. Robby lays kisses to your jaw, trailing down to your neck and sucking hard like a teenager. Broad hands urge your hips to grind, fucking yourself in his lap as you chase satisfaction. It's been so long since you've had an orgasm, every attempt reminding you of Robby. "Pretty sure you used to call me something else, baby." He mutters, one hand leaving your waist to sneak under your sweater. He finds your nipples hardened and achy, pulling one out of your bra cup and rolling it between his fingers. "I only call my husband that." You whine as your clit hits just the right angle of his clothed cock, bucking faster in his lap.

"Everyone around here knows you as my wife." He shoots back, pinching your nipple to emphasize his point. You find the crook of his neck and lay your forehead there, panting as your thighs burn with their ministrations. His hand on your waist flattens, fingers inching closer to your front but not where you need them. It's clear he's waiting for something, his thumb tracing the outline of your panties as he stays there. The longing to give in is too great.

"Please, Daddy. I need to come." You moan, not letting shame make its way into your head. You can feel him grin against you as his thumb finds your clothed clit, rubbing small circles as you keep bucking. It's what you needed, release creeping over you until you collapse in his arms. He moves his hips a few times into you until you complain of overstimulation.

"Think I just came in my pants." He mutters as you pull back. Giggles erupt from you, turning into snorts as you take in the pained expression on his face. Dr. Michael Robinavitch, coming in his pants like a teenager as his wife straddles him.

"Good thing they have scrubs. And a new rose detergent, I heard." You sass, squealing as he pinches your nipple, still cupped in his hand. He rights your clothing as you calm down, tucking your bra back in place and untwisting your leggings. "You're lucky I love you." He pecks your forehead before resting his own against it. You close your eyes in satisfaction, relieved to have filled this year-old hole in your heart. "I love you too, Michael." Your breaths mingle for a few moments, peace in the middle of the most unpeaceful place in Pittsburg.

Someone bangs on the door. Dana smirks at both of you like she predicted this was coming. "Two GSW's on the way, five minutes." You both sigh at getting caught, yet again. At least it was Dana. "Just enough time to get new scrubs." You cheer. He laughs, moving you both to a standing position before pecking your forehead again. "Put your address in my phone." He orders, fishing out his phone from where it fell into the couch cushions. "So forward, Doctor." You laugh as you type into his familiar phone. "I'll be over with takeout around 7:30, Mrs. Robinavitch." You grin.

"With your luck, it'll be 8 o'clock."

"Will you still wait?"

"Always."

-

this got away from me but wow it was necessary

[maidragoste]

can we get some headcanons for mister daeron, since he finally was mention on the last episode ✊🏻

Hi anon, thank you very much for your request! I really wanted to write to Daeron 🤭

btw, there is a headcanon that has smut but it is not very detailed, I still warn you that it is number 4 in case you want to skip it 👀

I really hope you enjoy what I wrote 💖 and if you ever come back to my inbox if you want you can choose an emoji so I can identify you ☺️

Now I wish you a good read!

•Daeron who is not interested in marriage but does his duty and marries you because he knows that having an alliance with your house is important to the greens.

•Daeron, despite not being enthusiastic about a hasty wedding with war looming, is enthralled when he sees you in your wedding dress.

•Daeron who recites his wedding vows while looking into your eyes and intends to be a better husband than Viserys was to his mother even if the two of you are only together for a short time.

•Daeron who on your wedding night is patient and sweet with you. He takes his time so that your first time isn't so painful. First, he distracts you by kissing you over and over again. Then he surprises you not by fucking you directly but by pleasuring you with his mouth, making you cum again and again with his tongue until you forget about your nerves. And when the time comes for him to go inside you, he intertwines his hand with yours. He waits for you to assure him that you're fine before he starts moving and it doesn't take long for the room to fill with your moans again as you feel his cock find your sweet spot.

•Daeron who you manage to impress when you meet Tessarion for the first time and don't show even the slightest bit of fear.

•Daeron having to stop himself from kissing you during their first fight because he's touched that you want to accompany him during the war instead of going back to your house.

“I can be useful. I am sure that the maester will value my help when he cannot afford so many wounded. I also know how to sew and...

“It's not about whether you're useful or not. It's about the fact that it's dangerous and I don't want you to end up hurt," he interrupted you with obvious frustration because you continued to insist on the topic of accompanying him during his war camp.

“I am your wife and my place is at your side!” you say stubbornly.

“And my duty as your husband is to protect you, not put you in danger!”

•In the end you end up joining the camp but it was not because Daeron wanted to but because the news of Jaehaerys' murder arrives and his uncle Ormund and your father think that Daeron and you need to have a child as soon as possible in case Aegon loses his other heir.

•That same night Daeron lets you see him vulnerable while he crying the death of his nephew hugging your hip. You accompany him in his grief and try to comfort him as best as possible while you hug him.

•Daeron was always protective of his family and now that you are part of it he will not allow anyone to disrespect you. A lord once mocked you for voicing your opinion during the war council and you and Ormund had to intervene so that Daeron doesn't end up doing the lord major harm.

•Daeron only relaxes once the two of you are alone in his tent. He lets you take off his armor and feels a moment of peace as you massage his shoulders and kiss his back.

•Daeron who prays that the war ends soon so that he can reunite with his family soon and above all because he wants to have a quiet life with you. Every night he asks the gods to protect you and not let anything bad happen to you.

•Daeron who, before going to fight, asks you to give him your favor and the two say goodbye with a kiss, earning mockery from Lyonel.

•Daeron who returns victorious from his first battle and feels his heart race as he watches you run towards him with a smile and he smiles when you scream in surprise when he lifts you into the air before kissing you fiercely, forgetting about the exhibitions and allowing himself to feel hopeful for the future.

Taglist: @stillalive-notdead @jasminecosmic99 @cloveradora @ghostingdaily @stareatch @accidentpronedork @universemagicreading

@cosmitton @momoko-world @descon0cidacl @fadingbatmuffindonkey @bryandechartisasmolbean

@arainbowteddybear @your-favorite-god @vicelis

@muramiko @strawberrrymomo @r4ndomgirlblog

@bringfhghghhggg @fifilynn16 @annie-panda

@mega-girl-xoxo @rovakiap @edenvvsblog @ryuuisthecutest @hebeth

hotd masterlist

[dilf-docs]

"Call It What You Want" Series: Drabbles. In today's episode, Y/n L/n goes on a Chicken Shop Date! ft. Amelia Dimoldenberg

Set: Before the first part of the CIWYW series Warnings: None. Just lousy comedy. I'm sorry Word count: 974 words

"So, I heard a rumor"

You pop a fry into your mouth. "Gotta be more specific with that"

"That you like older men" she replies back in an instant. You almost choke on your fry. Almost. You're quick to recover, taken back still.

"Oh, that" you let out a laugh. "I suppose it's true"

You think back about one of your most liked instagram posts, an old one. A graphic t-shirt with the front spelling I Love Dilfs, a red heart in the middle. Pedro had teased you about it, to which you replied: Are you stalking me?

"Why not older women?" she questions, and your eyes go wide at it. You've never been one to label yourself, especially not online.

"You aren't old, Amelia"

Her character falters a bit at your comeback.

"Did you just called me old?" she jabs. "I can poison your nuggets"

"Well" you reply, "it would be a bit weird that I thought about other people while we're on a date, right?"

She contains a laugh.

"I'd say then, that you have good taste" she bites a nugget. You bite yours. "Can I ask one thing, though?"

"Sure" you lean forward, then look at the camera, pleading, "as long as it's not about my dating life-"

Finding out who you were dating was one of the Internet's favorite topics. It went wild every time a new project of yours dropped, since you seemed to have insane chemistry with your co-stars. This time, the victim was Sam Cafflin, who just happened to star in some horror flick called Bagman. You weren't even together in the movie, but the few promotions you did together were enough for fans to place their imput in your relationship. They always did, yet, so far, no one had been able to guess it right.

And you're lucky, because it's been a while now since you and Pedro were together.

"If you could choose any D.I.L.F to take my place and be on a date with you, right now, who would it be?"

"Rude. I see you insist on me cheating on you on our date"

"I'm curious" she says, her accent shinning. "The Internet loves to pair you up with older men as much as you love to pair up yourself. Have you noticed?"

It's no secret. You're as clear as ambiguous. Everyone knows your preference, but none the fact that you're even married.

"Of course. I love my fans too much" you take a sip of your lemonade. "You could say I am a fan of them"

"Alright, but who you'd pick?" Amelia insists.

"Depends on the season" you chuckle. Your mind instantly goes to your husband. Still, you decide to spice things a bit with your answer. Give the Internet something to say. Give him something to say. Shit stirrer, you hear his voice in your mind. "Right now, it's summer, and Hugh Jackman seems the right answer"

The blonde woman raises her eyebrows.

"He was here just last month" Amelia says. "Should I give him your number?"

"You don't have my number" you deadpan. "Nor his"

Her eyes go wide as she suppresses a smile.

"Say I did. Should I ask yours for him?"

You shrug. "I'm a busy woman. If they want me, they better find me"

She chuckles lightly at that. "Well, thank you for making time for me then"

"Oh, for a pretty girl, anytime. Might like you more than my D.I.L.F.S"

Yet, in your heart, there's only a space and Pedro's carved itself inside it.

"Hugh Jackman, huh?" he muses. "What the fuck is he gonna do for you, hmh?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, moving from side to side in a cheeky manner. He's been bugging you with it ever since you stepped inside the house, and you've been trying so hard for him to drop it, but you knew it was lost case ever since he started spamming your phone once the interview dropped last night.

"Pop those claws out"

"You could have a Roman general yet you chose a mutant freak"

"The Roman general dies. Wolverine is immortal" you argue back.

"You're saying that just because he's trending right now... I want to see if you hold to the same answer when Gladiator II comes out"

"Baby, be honest. Are you jealous?" you tease.

He scoffs. "Of a guy with forks for hands? Please"

"Calm down. No need to fight this war, general" you stand on your tiptoes, his lips brushing yours. "You know I'm all yours"

His grip on your waist tightens, then leans into your ear and whispers, possessively so.

"Damn right you fucking are"

You're enjoying this a bit too much. Not even the Internet had gone that crazy over your interview.

"Hugh Jackman can sing though"

"Aw, c'mon!" you laugh as he slips from your embrace. "That's it, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"No, wait" you chase after him, giggling.

His face is flushed when he looks back at you.

"You know, I Iearned to sign Future Days, for Joel. But now? You get nothing, ungrateful deceiving wifey"

You feign hurt, placing a hand on your chest.

"Is it bad to say another man is hot, or have you gone too woke?"

"You're married. Don't bullshit me"

"Secretly married!" you protest.

"So that allows you to thirst out-loud for other men?" you remain silent. God, he's stubborn. "You've been a real bad girl"

You stop on your tracks. So does he. When you smile, wickedly so, he knows he's done for.

"I can be a good girl if you want"

Sultry voice. Dripping in honey, dropping in tone. Batting eyelashes. Parted glossed-up lips. His cock twitches. He feels like a fool.

Pedro just runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna be the death of me"

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Chapter One: My Dream

|Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Let's celebrate the first episode of season 2 with a new story! I'm publishing this before the show airs, so let's say a tentative prayer in case the first episode is Blood & Cheese. Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: sexism (it's a patriarchal feudalistic society), brief descriptions of childbirth and death related to it, Alicent being delulu.

“My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?” - Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin

If a daughter were to be born seconds before a brother, it did not matter. He was the heir. If she was born decades before a boy, it did not matter. He was the heir. Or so the realm believed until the reign of Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Son of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen, Grandson to the Old King Jaehaerys.

When Viserys Targaryen's wife, Aemma of House Arryn, had failed pregnancy after failed pregnancy, a girl was a welcomed result. It proved not only to Aemma herself and her King Husband that she could produce a child but to the realm that there was hope for a son, a much-preferred result.

Queen Consort Aemma Arryn died in pursuit of something she could not control, screaming, wailing, begging her husband not to cut her open, but he did not listen, for the birth of a son was more important than the life of a woman.

The infant Baelon Targaryen died a day later, leaving King Viserys a widower with only a daughter with the same fair skin and hair as the woman he murdered. The woman who laid slain on her birthing bed, bright blue irises now glassy, blood pooling from her womb, was given a Targaryen funeral along with the Heir for a Day, as her good brother called him, her last surviving child whispering, “dragon fire” through tears, with the encouragement of the same man who lusted after her and the throne.

The result of a mother’s and son’s death gave way to grief and anger. Viserys, blinded by the insults levied against his dead child, broke centuries of tradition and named Westeros’ first female heir Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Daemon Targaryen was furious at the abuse of being cast aside for a girl of ten and four and took to Dragonstone, the rightful seat of the Iron Throne's successor, with his whore, Lady Misery, an enslaved Lysene sold into the sex trade that became the Prince's favorite mistress.

Daemon did not hate his niece. He loved his family far more than anyone believed, so he surrendered when the Realm's Delight flew on her dragon to confront her uncle.

Less than a year later, not nearly long enough to mourn the death of two people, Viserys Targaryen married Alicent of House Hightower, daughter of the Hand and dearest friend to his daughter. The King saw the union as an act of fortunate duty and desire instead of love. On that much, the young Alicent Hightower could agree. Perhaps, he thought, it was a way to ensure his daughter would always have her closest Lady around, but Viserys was a fool . He could not see past his blinding grief and selfish lust that he tore the two girls apart.

Rhaenyra Targaryen's mother was a girl her age, a girl she longed to have to accompany her on Syrax, explore the East, and eat cake, but that was never meant to be. The Gods provided as quickly as they took, and her lifelong confidant viewed her with such hate and distaste that Rhaenyra soon began to consider her the same.

“Stepdaughter,” Alicent called her at the Princess's wedding feast to Ser Laenor of House Velaryon. Her voice laced with enough venom, and her dress so green you would mistake her for a snake. This gave Rhaenyra a sickening feeling in her gut, which soon hardened into one of cool indifference.

And that was how they lived.

Silent and icy indifference as Queen Alicent walked through the Targaryen halls of the Red Keep in Hightower Green, birthing the King his first surviving sons and second daughter.

However, there was a moment of repreave in the Queen's and the Princess's glacial flippancy when her forgotten ally fell pregnant for the first time.

Alicent could not help herself from caring for her old friend during her first pregnancy. She quickly fell back into the role of her Lady, supplying Rhaenyra with food, oils, clothing, and occasionally companionship during the quarrelsome nine moons.

The Queen had almost found it within her heart to forgive Rhaenyra for her lies and false swearing beneath the Heart Tree all those years ago, and she did until the labors when she saw the brown tuft of hair atop a young babe's head.

At the time, Alicent did not have a moment to contemplate what that meant before her friend screamed, holding on so tightly to her hand that she thought it might break as the rest of the infant emerged. The babe's face was so purple and cord wrapped around their neck that Alicent nearly cried, fearing life had repeated itself. The nursemaids quickly cut the blue and pink veiny line that connected the child to its mother, turning the babe upside down and spanking it on the back until its cries rang out throughout Maegor’s Holdfast.

A girl.

There, screaming and curling their once lifeless fist, were you , the firstborn child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, only by a mere moment, finally breathing and wailing as they swaddled you in an embroidered black and red cloth, a boy soon following.

“What shall you name them, your highness?” the eldest midwife asked, nearly as out of air as Rhaenyra.

“We…” the princess breathed heavily, positioning herself in the birthing chair. “We had only thought of a boy with the help of Lord Corlys. Jacaerys,” she panted, her cheeks tinged pink, either from exertion or embarrassment from being so thoughtless. Alicent did not know.

The nurse holding Rhaenyra’s son passed him to her, all eyes lingering on that same flattened-down dark hair. “Shall we wait for the Prince, your highness?” another question, holding the unnamed girl.

“I think,” Rhaenyra groans, shifting her weight to account for the new one, “we shall be waiting for a while should my husband suddenly return from his travels.” She glanced at Alicent, watching her once closest friend pick at the skin of her nails. She grinned, a brilliant idea coming to mind as she ordered the maid to give her daughter to the Queen. 

Alicent's doe eyes widened as she accepted. She peered down at the tiny bundle before her, still crying, purple face now a deep red and full of life. The Queen did not know what came over her as she leaned, bringing the child’s blotchy forehead to her lips, inhaling the unique scent only a newborn has. She noticed the muscles around where the babe's brows should be twitching, opening her eyes to reveal a mirror of Alicent’s own looking at her.

The Queen forgot for a moment that she was not her own and that she should be alarmed that the child's eyes bore no resemblance to their parents. Yet the Queen continued to smile down at the small fidgeting bundle in her grasp, her arms wiggling themselves out of their confines to clench and unclench. The cries now became softer but still there. Sounds that used to cause Alicent great distress now soothe her uneasy soul like a salve to a wound. 

“What shall we call her, my Queen?” Rhaenyra questioned, a crooked smile on her face as Alicent broke from her revere. Her plush lips parted in surprise, looking as if a deer caught grazing alone in a field.

The Queen appeared bewildered, unprepared for such a monumental task; all faces turned to her. “I… I am unsure, Princess. I did not come prepared for such an honor.”

Rhaenyra kept the same lopsided grin on her lips, showing the tips of her white teeth. “Tis all mine. It's an honor to have the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms name my first born daughter.”

“An honor I accept gladly,” Alicent rushed, worried that her refusal would shatter their peace.

She paused, pursing her lips in thought. Despite having three and another on the way, she had never named a child. Helaena was the closest she had ever gotten, a familiar name within the Reach but made to fit the traditional Targaryen spelling. Alicent would have something to herself, one tiny sliver of something that belonged to her, and she was unsure what to do with it. She was confident that Rhaenyra would be content with any name she chose, but she wanted it to be unique, to mean something more than just a word.

Alicent thought of her mother then—her darling mother, whom she barely had a chance to spend life with before a fever took her. A mother that her father said she looked like an extension of, and suddenly, only one name felt right.

The Queen was constantly conflicted about every choice she made, every move. From the food she ate to the clothes she wore, Alicent always worried herself over it, wondering if she had made the correct decision, but in this, she was sure. No man, woman, or God could sway her from this choice. It was right. The Queen could feel it in the marrow of her bones that it was so.

“Aelora.”

Aelora, my light.

The King came bursting moments later, a servant dressed in a crimson gown, white apron, and cap standing anxiously beside him. He immediately went straight into the room, brushing past his wife in favor of his daughter. Alicent felt a sour taste in her mouth at the notion, pulling the quiet lump tighter to her chest.

“A boy and a girl!” Viserys excitedly hollered, Rhaenyra passing Jacaerys to him. Anxiousness settled over the birthing chamber, the midwives and maids observing with worrisome eyes at the head of brown hair. “ Ah! And I see they have inherited my favorite cousin's hair.”

He held the newborn with a reverence Alicent had never seen with her own, and she stepped back into the shadows of the onlookers. She peered down, catching the babe's eyes shut and face slack, still with the fresh scent of birth. She brought you to her forehead again as she took in this brief moment of joy, nose nuzzling the infant’s as she grunted at the intrusion.

“Aelora, the Gods’ Light. My shining light,” she whispered so softly against the babe's satin-smooth skin that it drifted into the air like dust, lost in the wind. 

“Oh, and her eyes, too!” Viserys beamed, hoisting Jacaerys into the air as the wetnurses squealed in terror. “She will make a fine queen one day, and should the Gods allow it, you, a king.” Rhaenyra laughed at her father's antics, already planning the children’s marriage. She was too high on the feeling of birthing not one but two healthy babes, a boy and a girl, no less to care. Alicent's amber eyes flicked to her husband and then to your plump face, a frown pulling her lips.

Aegon had come quickly and without fuss. Though Alicent was merely a girl of ten and six when it happened, the moments leading up to it frightened her thoroughly. She worried her nails down to the quick, the pink fleshy beds exposed and bleeding whenever she would use too harsh of a grip.

She knew of what happened to Aemma Arryn, that the babe was stuck and couldn't turn to leave the womb, at least to the Maester’s belief. He gave the King a choice, not the woman who was writhing in pain as her body contracted, to either let the process play out with the chance that the child and his wife could perish or have him slice her open from hip to hip, dig through her guts and blood to pry the child out. Aemma Arryn had no voice in the matter from what she heard from the midwives, as her husband allowed a man to pull Prince Baelon straight from her womb.

Alicent did not want to face the same fate and prayed to the Mother day after day, night after night, until her knees were yellow and blue, and even then, she continued her efforts. She was alone in all this, with no one to confide in. Her father had told her to do her duty when she expressed concern. He assured her the King would allow no such thing if she did everything correctly. He offered no comfort, and Alicent longed for her dearest Princess. Her prayers were answered when that fateful day came, and the labors lasted no more than an hour.

She birthed a healthy boy with blonde hair and purple eyes, but even then, Viserys did not act the way he was now with Rhaenyra's children. A means to end all the uncertainty of an heir, her father said in words of solace. She hadn't understood what he meant then. Rhaenyra was the heir, crowned Princess of Dragonstone, and Lords swore allegiance to her across the realm. To Alicent, there was no uncertainty until there was.

Until Otto Hightower planted the rot that festered and spread in her mind that the girl she grew up alongside, the girl she spent so many days and nights with, the girl that had said she would forget her duty and fly off across the world eating nothing but cake with her friend by her side, would murder Alicent's children so they could not depose her reign.

She did not believe Rhaenyra was capable of cruelty, but then again, she had once considered her incapable of lying to her and was proven wrong.

She began to fuss as if the infant in her embrace could sense the Queen's unrest. Her delicate little face scrunched up as Alicent bounced her softly, cooing soothingly. She smiled despite her unpleasantness within, unfazed by the sudden outburst, unlike when Helaena had her fits as a child. Her daughter would have to meet her niece and nephew, along with Aegon. Aemond was too young. She wouldn't be able to keep a close eye on him.

Though he was half the size of Aegon when he was born, he had grown twice as fierce. At barely three years old, his nursemaids had to ceaselessly follow the moonlight-haired boy less than a step away lest he jump down a flight of stairs just to see if he could. Once, when Alicent dismissed the servants from Aemond's chambers as he readied for bed, she turned her back on him for a singular blink, and he opened his balcony doors and climbed over the railing to get a better view of the night sky. Alicent remembered how he kicked and screamed as she yanked him from the ledge, saying words and phrases she never knew, even at the age she was now.

“My Queen,” the wetnurse called like she had repeated herself as Alicent looked at the girl. “The young Princess needs her first feeding.” The woman held out her arms for her to hand over the fussing bundle, a calm but concerned expression on her face.

Alicent refused, curling her limbs as the babe squirmed, her cries becoming ear-piercing screams. She knew the child needed to eat but could not force her body to release the girl. It was as if her very bones denied the movement that was not keeping the hungry infant close to her. The fleeting thought that Alicent could feed the girl herself crossed her mind, but she shook it away, realizing the ludacrisy of it. It was improper for a woman of nobility to nurse their child. That's what the maids were for, the Queen told herself.

The wetnurse peered at her curiously, walking a pace closer, but Alicent stepped back as if she attempted to harm her. “The King has not held her yet,” she protested, looking towards her King-Husband in an attempt to prolong her time.

“All is well, Alicent. What kind of King refuses to let their babe grandchild eat?” he jested, tilting his head to the side playfully and exposing a gaping smile. It made Alicent want to vomit.

When she doesn't move to listen, the Queen stared at her husband like her silence could serve as a rejection of his words. Viserys sighed as Rhaenyra watched with piqued interest, wordlessly handing Jacaerys to another maid.

“Alicent, give her the child.”

She hesitated again, her brown eyes flickering to Rhaenyra when she did not offer for Alicent to stay while the maids worked. Once again, she mused bitterly, watching the infant intently as she relented. I give my dream away to you. A dream that was never indeed mine.

The Queen bowed to the Princess, congratulating her on the success as she took her leave, hand splaying over the swollen stomach of her emerald green gown. It felt too tight, the once smooth fabric now itching at her skin, the fine hairs on her arms catching between the threads.

How stupid she was to believe in Rhaenyra’s kindness. She felt like a girl again, the same girl who stood beneath the Weirwood, listening to her friend swear on her mother’s memory that she had not lain with a man, only to find out there was moontea delivered to her chambers.

A sudden kick was sent to the Queen's abdomen, halting her brisk pace as she doubled over within the pale redstone hall. Ser Criston Cole arrived moments later, helping her rise to her feet. She soothed the afflicted area with her palm, no doubt the cause being her own making. Despite the growing life inside of her, the Queen has now done it four times. Alicent believed the moment she laid her wide amber eyes on yours was the closest she had ever felt to being whole with someone in her life. It’s as if the child's very being was now a part of her, and every moment she was away, it felt as if she was missing a piece of her soul.

Rhaenyra flaunts and does as she pleases, lies, and tricks all she pleases. It made Alicent furious with a rage she had not felt for nearly a decade. Aelora will not become like her mother. The Green Queen will not allow it, even if she has to twist and shape the clay of Aelora's mind into something of her own. Aelora is her dream. She is the Gods' shining light, and Alicent will be damned if she allows Rhaenyra to blacken her glow.

Septon Eustace's Recount of Princess Aelora I Targaryen's Early Life

The young Velaryon princess, later taking her mother’s namesake, grew into a spritely and mischievous child, playing jests on her Septa and Prince Aemond with the aid of her brothers and the eldest of the Queen’s children, Prince Aegon. She did not develop into a traditional Targaryen beauty with blonde hair and violet eyes; instead, she had a golden chestnut crown with eyes to match. Many said she resembled Queen Alicent, though if anyone made the error of voicing it, they faced Princess Rhaenyra’s wrath.

Though her features were plain by Targaryen standards, the realm rejoiced in her beauty. Lords and ladies commissioned portraits of her countenance throughout the kingdom, proudly displaying a halcyon halo of red rubies adorning the top of her divine facade. The common folk coined the name “The Gods' Light” for the sweet girl. A glimpse of her was as close as one would get to the Maiden, and they cherished it whenever Princess Rhaenyra's faction made rare journeys to the Grand Sept.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

I'm excited to write for my favorite war criminal, Visenya Incarnate, Aemond Targaryen. I'm just super happy to write Aemond smut! I'm also taking a different approach to this story because it will solely be based on the show (to the best of my ability), not the book, and will be released with the same progression. It will have accounts of the reader's life through the eyes of the Maester's. Of course, there will be some cannon divergence and whatnot, considering we're introducing a new character into the fray. This fic will also be a lot darker than what I've written in the past, including content such as childhood sexual assault and the after-effects of it, self-harm, depression, suicide, and unhealthy sibling dynamics/relationships.

This story is told from the second person's perspective. The reader only has a name for the sake of a title and the description of Strong features.

Y'all have no idea how fulfilling writing has been for me. It's given me purpose when I've felt like I had none. It's helped my mental health by giving me an outlet for self-expression and a good source of distraction from all the worries I have in life. I wish I could get paid for this!

I hope y'all will enjoy the story as much as I will writing it, and of course, thank you so much for taking the time to read this. You genuinely have no idea how much your support means to me, but I will continue to express it in the best way I know how. ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Ps. Alicent's mom's name is unknown in the show and the book, so I'm creating a name that combines my original idea with traditional Targaryen spelling.

Pronunciation: Uh-lore-uh, Ae-lore-uh

Origin: Latin

Meaning: dream, dreamer, shining light.

Biblical Meaning: God is light, God's light.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf

[readerihardlyknowher]

In Every Universe | Pt. 4

Super sick rn

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: none WC: 1,507 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5

“What’s good, yo? It’s Fred Darts back at it again, 301, cheah. This time, I ain’t here to play around, little man. I’m ready to get that nookie, and this time I’ve learned more Limp Bizkit song names.” You watch as Spencer delivers his intro to the newest Darts Ultimate Showdown video. Amongst the group is you, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse. Of everyone, Spencer is the only one doing a reprise of one of his characters, and boy you know the fans are going to love seeing Fred Darts on screen again. You’re just thankful that this time you’re playing with a real darts board instead of the magnet one he played with last time. As Spencer finishes introducing his character, you step forward.

“Oh, hello everyone. My name is Mary Ann Anne,” your soft, high pitched character voice says, “I’m only here because my husband said that if I don’t win this game, he’ll divorce me and marry my sister, Lou Ann Anne. So I guess I just have to run these sorry folk into the ground then.” You then do an imaginary curtsy and walk back to let Chanse do his intro.

Chanse brings the character Jerry Spruce into the Darts cinematic universe, which gets a chuckle from everyone, who’s excited to see him try to keep up the low-key energy of the character for the whole episode. Angela steps up to show off a brand new character, well, not brand new, but she’s taken on the role of Bobby Hill, from King of the Hill, even though she states she still has not seen an episode of it. The game begins in the order you were introduced in, with Spencer going first.

“No one knows what it’s like,” Spencer shouts out as he throws his first dart, which misses the board entirely, making the three of you have to hide your laughter. “To be the bad man.” His second dart hits the board, but not on any part that gives you points. “To be the sad man,” his voice is breaking as he throws his third dart, which miraculously gives him… 6 points. “Aw man…” his head hangs low as he walks to the back of the line. Your hand reaches out and pats his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Fred. Once I win, I’ll make sure to make everyone a nice, apple pie,” you say as you step forward. You decided on this character just before the video, but now, you’re worried that you’ll be too boring, but hey, you can figure out more as the video goes on. Chanse and Angela both make excited noises at that, Chanse mentioning that they sell an apple pie spud at the Spud Hut, but Spencer’s loud voice pierces through.

“Your husband doesn’t deserve you, cheah,” Spencer finishes his sentence by crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the camera. Meanwhile, your face twists in amusement and confusion, before going back into character.

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fred. All I know is, I’m gonna win this.” You throw your first dart, but it doesn’t land on any of the points. You curse under your breath as you throw once more, this time hitting the wall, hearing Spencer behind you say, “wall point”, before you throw once more and get 17. You cheer as you walk up to the board and grab your darts, telling Alex the points. Walking back, you stand behind Spencer as it’s Chanse’s turn now. Chanse does a quick advertisement for the Spud Hut before he throws his first dart, which lands him 20 points. Spencer turns back to speak to you as Fred.

“Yo, I think you should leave your husband before he leaves you,” he says, trying to hide the smile on his face as he says this. You snicker and look into his sunglasses.

“I’d never, he’s a darling of a man,” you reply, a hand over your heart in disbelief.

“A real man takes care of his wife,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back, making all of the cast stop and look at him in confusion. Sure, you’d seen the original Darts Ultimate Showdown, where he’d make comments on Amanda’s character’s relationship, but he’s really ramping it up this time. There’s a pause before Chanse is the one to speak up.

“Sounds like you two should try the Love Spud,” he says before throwing again, missing the board. “It’s got heart shaped sprinkles on it and Hershey's kisses.” He throws again while the rest of you groan at the description of the “love spud” before you speak again.

“The only person I’d be having the ‘love spud’ with would be my husband. Even though lately he has been spending more time at work, instead of at home with the family,” you say, voice saddened but still trying to hold it together.

“Ayo I could treat you better,” Spencer’s voice says. You turn to look at him, watching him trying to hold his character together as he chews the gum in his mouth. You turn your nose up at him, trying to look insulted.

“Well, I could never leave my dear husband for a shorter, louder… more confident…” at this you turn back to look at him, taking in his appearance. “And… quite handsome man.”

“Uh, yeah this is cute and all, but quiet down while I make my shot,” Chanse calls out, making you turn back to what you were meant to focus on in the first place.

Even when playing these kinds of games, whenever you’re in a video with Spencer, you both can never seem to focus on the actual game. Whatever subplot you two decide up at the moment becomes the most important thing in the world. Even if it’s Fred Durst convincing a woman to leave her husband. He just has this strange charisma that draws your attention.

The rounds keep going, the game falling more and more into the background as every time you look at Spencer, he’s looking at you, before swiftly looking away. Little comments, like “you should leave him” and “you’re looking at a real man” manage to get at you, little by little, until you- or well, your character, definitely not you, are getting flustered with each word. Eventually, the scores are Spencer: 5, You: 9, Chanse: 11, Angela, 4.. Right now, it’s Spencer’s turn, and throughout the game, his aim has gotten better and better. You watch as he walks up to the carpet with a swagger which is incredibly unlike him, yet so in character.

Taking a deep breath, both excited for him to win and nervous to lose, you watch as he pulls his arm back and glances back at you over his shoulder.

“This one’s for you,” he says, his voice not fully there. Everyone’s holding their breaths as he looks back to the board and launches the dart–

Directly into the carpet.

“What the-”

“Mary Ann,” he takes a step back from the carpet. “A real man lets a woman win.”

Now, if you were your character, you would have been swept off your feet, completely in love with Fred. But you are you, so you’re incredibly confused why he decided to throw his turn right when he could have won. It’s entirely out of Spencer’s character. However, Chanse and Angela knock you back in character as they push you forward, wanting to see your character take the win. With a still confused laugh, you do as they ask, aiming the dart at the 9, before releasing the dart. 

You get an 8. Everyone shouts in the distance, but you’re still caught up on the fact that you can still win this. You aim right above the 1, knowing your ability to aim is pretty bad. You take a deep breath, before deciding to make the best decision for the video. You look back at Spencer.

“Fred, if I win this, I’m leaving my husband.” His hands fly to his head as his mouth opens in shock.

“She better get this, yo!” He shouts, before huddling up with Chanse and Angela.

The room is silent, everyone fully invested. Some hoping you get it, others hoping you don’t for the comedic factor. Nothing else matters though as your arm swings forward and you release the dart, hearing it connect with the board. You look up.

1 point.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Everyone shouts, jumping around as they come rushing forward to hug you and cheer you on. Adrenaline rushes your veins as you remember that you’re on camera. You turn to the camera with a broad smile on your face, adjusting the outfit you’ve had on this whole time.

“That’s it, I’m finally leaving my no-good husband. I’m leaving him for this…” You look back to Spencer. “For this strange man.” Spencer gawks and looks between you and the camera, before crossing his arms with a smug expression.

“I guess I’m the real winner here after all, cheah.”

Tag list: @lisiliely (I hope I did this right)

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 6!

and what a week it's been... idk about you all, but i'm very much looking forward to all the 8b spec fic after seeing That One Leak...

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a graveyard in blue | moonlightmornings/@moonlight-mornings | 12.9k | GA

After a call goes south because of limited resources and an equipment malfunction, Eddie's brave move to rescue a young girl takes a nasty turn. i love how this captures the energy and vibe of a rescue!! genuinely feels straight out of an episode <3

and i'd do it over and over again | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 4.4k | E

Buck and Eddie hook up at the end of "Confessions". oh when i tell you i savoured this one... such a wonderful fic that captures buddie's first time so so perfectly!! i love how their dynamic is written here <3

everything in between | simplyylupin | 2.1k | T

They’re quiet for a moment, mulling over the unsaid, and then Buck’s bringing his phone closer to his face, eyes squinting. “Are you naked?” the absolute codependency of these two <3 so good!!

hot ghost problems | ebjameston/@ebjameston | 40.9k | T

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. this was a reread! i was reminded of the magic system here and revisited it - can confirm that magic and ghosts and all that are so very good here, and i love the diaz siblings!!

i'll tell them put me back in it (and i would do it again) | paleredheadinascifi | 4.8k| T

Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them. the sheer brilliance of this concept... such a lovely look at the buckley-diaz dynamics! i was smiling the whole way through <3

it's golden, like daylight | rarakiplin/@hoediaz | 8.7k | T

“Shut up,” fingers dig into his ribs, “I mean, would you want to? Be married again?” such wonderful firefam dynamics!! i read this last week, i think, and already reread it this past week as well. a new favourite for sure <3

lonely little love dog | littleghost/@ghostlandtoo | 24k | M

When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much. this is such a fascinating look at buck's character!! and i LOVED the mara scene <3

parabola | semperama/@semperama | 4.6k | T

“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” truly no fic captures the angst with a happy ending tag like this. also this fic is how i learned that there's a special ao3 tag for eddie's will, which sounds about right. anyway, point is, this is wonderful!!

the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love | lemonzestywrites/@lemonzestywrites | 25.7k | E

After the events of 6x13, Buck is worried he's lost his charm in bed. Eddie eagerly offers his services to prove otherwise. a reread of one of my favourite fics <3 there's something about the intersection of smut and feelings realisation and introspection in this fic that just hits so very hard, it's lovely <3

the whale fall principle | fastcardotmp3/@fastcardotmp3 | 95.5k | M

Daniel Buckley lives, but he’s still deciding what that means. Maddie is having a baby, but it isn’t her husband’s. And Evan knows his purpose. Until he doesn’t anymore. okay so definitely heed the creator chose not to use archive warnings tag here (there are specific warnings in the chapter notes) but holy shit, this fic. genuinely the best buckley sibling dynamics i have read, like, maybe ever. such a wonderful eddie and chimney and everyone, and such gorgeous writing!! if this one sounds up your alley, you're in for a treat <3

to ebb and flow | akapeterman/@akapeterman | 5.1k | GA

buck is sick, eddie is worried, and christopher is an angel. they'll be okay. i've really been vibing with sickfics lately, can you tell? this is another lovely lovely fic, such great hurt/comfort/domestic fluff!!

wait for me to come home | written_promises | 1.9k | GA

Eddie comes back home to LA from Texas to find Buck waiting for him… in his bed. Because he’s been living in Eddie’s home. and eddie's bed is exactly where buck should be<3 so soft and sweet and beautiful!!

we return to each other in waves | cozycatwriter/@leon-trans-kennedy | 3.1k | GA

“Yes I do. Of course I do. You saved Chris and looked after him the best you could during a tsunami-and you’re still recovering from an embolism from having your leg crushed on the job. The least I could do is look after you and let you stay the night. Besides, Chris would want you to stay.” post-tsunami fics my beloveds <3 it genuinely makes me so happy to see new ones pop up, and this is truly an excellent one!! i love the bed-sharing especially!

you need a friendly hand (and i need action) | AmZamReads | 13.1k | E

Eddie picks up pottery as a hobby and accidentally blows up on Instagram for "accidentally" posting thirst traps of him throwing on the wheel. Buck stumbles across the account and immediately becomes obsessed with Eddie's hands, and horny shenanigans ensues. this fic makes me wish i could make pottery. i love eddie's pottery friends!! and a lovely buddie dynamic too <3

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll always be your rock

Summary: Going undercover at your husband’s job is one thing, but going undercover to catch yourself is the last thing you would expect.

Note: I think it's pretty obvious from which episode I got this idea lol. I had my eyes on this episode for a long time and finally decided to turn it into a fic with my own spin. Hope you enjoy it! 🤍​

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: angst(ish)/ fluff

Being married to Tim Bradford was an adventure in itself.

Not in the he’s reckless and unpredictable way—no, Tim was as solid as they came.

But being the wife of a man so dedicated to the LAPD meant every day carried a thread of uncertainty.

Long nights waiting for him to come home and phone calls that made my heart race became part of my routine.

Yet, despite the challenges, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because at the end of those long shifts, when he finally walked through the door, everything felt right again.

I could always tell how his day had gone by the way he held me.

Some nights, it was a quick kiss to the temple before he shuffled off to the shower, but other nights, he’d pull me in close like he needed to remind himself that home was real.

I wasn’t exactly the most outgoing person.

More like the shy type like Tim liked to call me.

Social situations weren’t my forte, and I much preferred curling up with a book or baking something in the kitchen.

And yet, his team had unofficially adopted me as one of their own.

Angela looped her arm through mine at station events, Lucy subtly checked in to make sure I wasn’t overwhelmed, and even Nyla once told me,

“You keep him sane. That’s an impressive feat.”

Then there was the teasing—so much teasing.

“How the hell did you convince someone so sweet and quiet to marry you?”

Aaron had once asked, smirking as he nudged Tim’s shoulder.

Tim had just given a slow, confident shrug, his arm casually draped around my waist.

“What can I say? She has excellent taste.”

I’d rolled my eyes, but the warmth in his gaze made my heart stutter. Even with everything unpredictable about his job, I never doubted how deeply he loved me.

It wasn’t always easy, to love a man who belonged to a completely different world than mine.

But in the quiet moments—the way his fingers traced lazy circles on my back, the way he saved the last bite of dessert for me, the way his voice softened when he said my name—I knew.

I was his safe place, just as he was mine.

And that made every uncertain moment worth it.

That afternoon, I was at home, curled up on the couch with a blanket and a book, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The rain lightly tapped against the windows, creating a soft, rhythmic backdrop to the cozy scene.

I’d spent the morning tidying up the house and making a simple lunch—nothing fancy, just a grilled cheese and a cup of tea—but it was enough to make me feel content. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed having a quiet day to myself.

The soft hum of the TV played in the background as I turned the page of my book, smiling at a passage that reminded me of Tim.

It was the kind of rare, uninterrupted moment where I didn’t have to worry about him working late or being out in the field.

I heard the distant sound of the wind picking up outside, but I didn’t mind.

It only made the house feel more like a safe, warm refuge from the world.

Then, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

At first, I ignored it, assuming it was just a notification.

But when it vibrated again, this time with the unmistakable sound of Tim’s custom ringtone, I immediately reached for it.

“Hey,” I answered, settling back against the cushions. “You okay?”

His voice sounded a little distant, like he was concentrating on something.

“Where are you right now?”

“Just at home,” I replied, my brow furrowing slightly.

“Why? What’s going on?”

There was a long pause on the other end, just long enough for my stomach to tighten with unease.

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

Before I could ask more, the line went dead.

I set my phone down, a knot of worry starting to form.

Tim wasn’t the type to act like this—something was clearly wrong.

Beforehand,

The bullpen at the LAPD station was buzzing with the usual mid-afternoon energy.

Officers milled around, coffee cups in hand, and chatter filled the air as files were passed back and forth.

Tim was hunched over his desk, a stack of reports in front of him as he scribbled notes.

He’d had a relatively calm morning, but now, the pile of paperwork was a reminder that the job never really let up.

Across the room, Lucy was at her desk, scrolling through the latest security footage from a robbery that had occurred the night before.

It wasn’t until her eyes caught something odd on the screen that the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted.

She leaned in closer, squinting at the grainy image.

“Uh… is it just me, or does that look like Y/n?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

Nyla, who had been sitting nearby, looked up and walked over to Lucy’s desk.

She narrowed her eyes, scanning the screen.

“Bradford… what are the chances?”

Tim, absorbed in his own thoughts, turned at the sound of his wife’s name.

When his eyes landed on the image, his stomach dropped.

The woman on the screen wasn’t just similar to Y/n—she was her.

Same height, same build, even the way she carried her bag over her shoulder.

But it wasn’t her. He knew his wife.

Tim’s grip tightened around the edge of his desk, his jaw clenching.

“Run facial recognition.”

Angela, sitting across the room, was already moving toward the computer.

She tapped a few keys, and within moments, the results came in: Inconclusive.

The suspect had a baseball cap on, obscuring her face enough to prevent a clear match.

Lucy, still staring at the screen, hesitated.

“Tim… should we call Y/n?”

Tim didn’t hesitate. He was already reaching for his phone. “Yeah.”

As the phone rang, he felt his heart rate pick up.

His mind raced, trying to process the situation, but the image on the screen was all he could focus on.

Her voice finally came through, soft and familiar. “Hey. You okay?”

Tim tried to steady his breathing. “Where are you right now?”

“At home. Why? What’s going on?” she replied, the confusion clear in her voice.

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

Tim hung up the phone without saying anything else, his mind already on his way to her.

He turned to his team, his face taut with concern. “I need to go.”

Angela nodded quickly. “We’ll keep digging.”

Lucy spoke, her voice still laced with disbelief.

“If that’s not Y/n… then who the hell is she?”

Tim didn’t respond, already on his way out the door.

Meanwhile,

I began pacing the living room, my mind racing through every possible scenario—was he hurt?

Was someone else hurt?

The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I chewed my lip nervously, my heart heavy with dread.

I tried to focus, but each thought seemed to spiral into another until I heard the familiar sound of his truck pulling into the driveway, like a lifeline amidst the chaos in my head.

When the door creaked open, I looked up and saw Tim walk in, his face unreadable.

His sharp, assessing blue eyes immediately scanned me from head to toe, and I could feel the weight of his gaze.

It wasn’t the kind of look that said everything was fine, but the kind that silently assured me he was here—watching, protecting, making sure I was truly safe.

“What’s going on, Tim?” I asked, my voice small and fragile, my hands gripping the hem of my sweater like it might anchor me.

The air felt thick, charged with all the unspoken questions and fears swirling between us.

Tim exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw as he seemed to gather his thoughts.

His eyes softened just a fraction when he met my gaze, but the tension was still there.

“There was a robbery last night. We just got an image of the suspect, and—”

He paused for a moment, as though weighing the impact of his next words.

“It looks exactly like you.”

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying, my breath hitching in my throat.

“Excuse me?”

My voice barely rose above a whisper, a rush of unease flooding my chest as my mind tried to catch up.

Tim took a deep breath, pulling out his phone.

He handed it to me gently, his fingers brushing mine, but the contact felt like a reassurance I didn’t know I needed.

When I saw the grainy image, my stomach twisted, the weight of the moment sinking in.

The woman in the photo looked almost identical to me—same face, same posture, even the way she carried her bag over one shoulder.

But it wasn’t me.

I swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in my chest.

“So… do they think it’s me?” I asked, my voice small and shaky, the uncertainty making my words tremble.

Tim shook his head immediately, his brows furrowing as if he wanted to erase any doubt from my mind.

“No one who actually knows you thinks that. But the resemblance is too strong to ignore.”

He reached out and gently touched my arm, his thumb brushing over my skin in a silent gesture of reassurance.

His touch was warm, grounding me even though my mind was still reeling.

I nodded slowly, trying to process his words, my fingers twisting together in my lap.

“This is… really weird.”

I couldn’t help but feel disoriented by the idea of someone else looking so much like me.

It didn’t feel real, but the image in my hand made it impossible to ignore.

Tim sat beside me, his knee bumping gently against mine as he leaned in, his presence a solid comfort beside me.

“We’re working on tracking her down. I just didn’t want you to be blindsided.”

His voice was calm, steady, but I could hear the concern behind it.

I glanced up at him, taking in the way his face softened when he looked at me, the unspoken care in his eyes.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to release the tension that had built up in my shoulders.

“Thanks, Tim. That… that would’ve been a nightmare.”

His words were a balm, easing some of the tightness I didn’t even realize I was carrying.

Tim reached over, his hand finding mine in a reassuring squeeze.

His fingers enveloped mine, and the warmth of his touch melted some of the cold fear still hanging in the air.

“It’s gonna be fine, baby. I just need you to stay put for now, okay?”

His words were steady, but there was a softness to them, like a promise that everything would be okay, even if I wasn’t so sure yet.

I nodded, gripping his fingers tightly.

The contact was grounding, and the storm of worry in my chest began to calm, just a little.

With Tim here, I knew I was safe, and that was enough for the moment.

Then, as I looked at the image on his phone once again, a small detail caught my eye.

The suspect had tattoos, visible on her arm, a sharp contrast to my own ink-free skin.

I leaned closer to Tim’s phone.

“She’s got tattoos,” I said softly, pointing to the image.

“I don’t have any.”

Tim’s eyes softened as he looked at the photo again, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I know, sweetheart. And that’s another reason I don’t think anyone’s actually confused about it being you.”

He gave me another squeeze, his hand warm and steady in mine.

“Because I also for a fact can recognize my own wife.”

I let out a soft laugh, the tension in my chest finally starting to ease.

It felt good to have him so close, his presence reassuring me in a way that no words could.

Days passed, and the investigation deepened.

Just because the suspect looked like me meant that I was automatically involved in the case.

Security footage continued to roll in, and every angle seemed to show the same thing—the woman in the videos looked exactly like me.

The more we watched, the more I began to wonder if I had an evil twin roaming around causing trouble.

But nothing in the footage could tell us who she was or where she came from.

The tension in the bullpen was growing, especially for Tim.

He’d been working around the clock, watching the same footage over and over again, his frustration building.

It wasn’t just the case—it was the fact that someone out there looked like his wife, and the implications of that hit too close to home.

Days without a plan or strategies passed until—

Then came the suggestion.

“What if Y/n went undercover?”

Lucy’s voice broke the silence, her suggestion hanging in the air like a dare.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I wasn’t sure if I had heard her right.

I wasn’t exactly the best at faking confidence, especially not in front of criminals.

But Lucy’s gaze was intense, and Nyla nodded thoughtfully. They both seemed to believe it could work.

Tim’s reaction was immediate, like a reflex.

“Absolutely not,” he said, his voice harsh and protective, making it clear that no part of him was willing to entertain the idea.

“Tim, listen,” Lucy pressed, her hands going up in a placating gesture.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If she thinks Y/n is her twin, she might open up. We might be able to get the information we need to bring her in without the risk of violence.”

Tim’s jaw clenched. “Or she could see right through it and lash out. No. I’m not putting her in that situation.”

I stayed quiet, my hands twisting in my lap. I knew Tim’s worry wasn’t just about the case—it was about me.

The thought of him losing me in any way made his protective side go into overdrive.

But I couldn’t just sit by while someone else was out there causing havoc.

“Tim, I know it’s dangerous,” I spoke up, my voice quiet but firm.

“But if it means stopping her before someone else gets hurt, I have to try.”

Tim’s gaze snapped to me, and for a moment, it felt like the whole room held its breath.

His blue eyes, usually so calm, were stormy with worry and anger.

“Y/n, this isn’t a game. It’s not a mission I’m willing to risk you on.”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart pound in my chest.

I knew I wasn’t the obvious choice for something like this, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything.

“I’m not asking for you to be okay with it, Tim,” I said, my voice steady despite the anxiety building inside me.

“But I can help. I know how to handle myself.”

The room fell quiet, and Tim stood there, his body tense, his gaze never leaving mine.

His protective instincts were strong, and I could see him weighing every possible outcome.

Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders sagging just slightly.

“Fine,” he said, his voice gruff but resigned.

“But I’m keeping an eye on you the entire time. The second things go south, you’re out of there.”

I nodded, the weight of his words hanging over me.

It wasn’t just about the mission anymore. It was about our trust in each other.

And no matter how nervous I was, I knew this was something I had to do.

A few hours later, the team gathered in the briefing room.

Tim was standing at the front, his face set in that usual grim expression, but his eyes softened whenever they flickered to me.

The plan was already taking shape, and now, it was time to fill in the details.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,�� Tim said, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Y/n, you’re going to approach her as though you’re a long-lost twin sister. We’ll feed you enough information to make it believable, but you’re going to need to stay sharp. We know she’s tough, and we know she has connections. This won’t be easy.”

I listened carefully, my mind racing through the logistics.

Tim was giving me a look—one I knew all too well—his eyes searching mine for any sign that I might back out.

But I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to leave him with that feeling of helplessness.

“I’ll make contact with her,” Lucy chimed in.

“We’ve got her location traced from the security footage. She’s been hanging out at a dive bar on the edge of town. We’ll set up a surveillance perimeter.”

“You’ll be going in alone Y/n,” Nyla added, her voice steady.

“The goal is to gain her trust. She’s never seen you before, but the resemblance is undeniable. Use that. We’ll be in your ear the whole time, listening in on every conversation.”

Tim ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

“You’re going in alone,” he repeated, his gaze flicking to me.

“We can’t risk anyone else tipping her off. But Y/n, you need to be careful. If she even slightly catches on that something’s off—”

“I know,” I interrupted softly, my voice unwavering.

“I’ll be careful. I won’t give her a reason to suspect anything.”

Tim hesitated, then his face softened, even if just for a moment.

“This isn’t like anything we’ve ever done before. You don’t need to prove anything to me. Just… be safe. Please.”

I smiled faintly, understanding the unspoken fear behind his words.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

The team looked at each other, nodding, as they began setting the final steps in motion.

The plan was set. All that was left was execution.

And despite the nerves coursing through me, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of purpose settle over me.

The morning of the mission was tense.

The air felt thick with anticipation, but it was Tim’s worry that weighed on me the most.

We were in the car, parked outside the location where we would begin the operation.

Tim’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his focus unwavering, but there was a nervous energy about him that I could feel.

He glanced over at me, his eyes softening just a little, a small flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“If you want out, now’s the time. No one would blame you.”

I could see the worry in his eyes, the deep concern for my safety.

His protective nature had been on overdrive ever since we started this mission, and now that we were on the cusp of it, I knew it was getting harder for him to let go.

I reached over and placed my hand over his. “Tim,” I said, my voice firm but gentle.

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do. I know the risks, but I trust you, I trust the team, and I trust myself.”

He let out a slow breath, his grip loosening just enough for me to feel his warmth.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw a flicker of pride mixed with his anxiety.

“Just promise me you’ll stay safe,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

“I promise,” I whispered back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“And you’ll be right there with me the whole time.”

He didn’t say anything, but the way he held my gaze told me that, for the first time in a long while, he was allowing himself to feel a little bit of relief.

He knew how dangerous this was, but he also knew how determined I was.

Eventually, the car came to a stop at a discreet location near the target area.

Nyla was already briefing the others, while Lucy was in the process of running final checks.

Inside the SUV, the tension was palpable. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I tried to steady my breathing.

Nyla slid into the backseat beside me, her expression serious but focused.

“Alright, Y/n,” she said, giving me a quick once-over.

“This is the part where you have to stay sharp, okay? The goal is simple—we need to get close enough to the suspect, gain her trust, and get her talking. Once you’re in, don’t push her too hard—play it cool, keep it light, but don’t show any fear.”

I nodded, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. I knew the plan by heart, but hearing Nyla go over it again gave me a sense of confidence.

“Got it,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Keep it cool, get the information, and get out.”

“Exactly,” Nyla said, her eyes glinting with a touch of encouragement.

“You’ve got this. When you approach, make sure you tell her the story we agreed on. You’re her twin, you’ve been looking for her. If she buys it, it’ll help us catch her off-guard. Remember, we’ve got your back.”

I took a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves.

“I’m ready,” I said, forcing a smile, even though my stomach was flipping.

“I’ve got this.”

Tim, who had been quietly listening from the driver’s seat, finally turned around to face me.

His expression softened as he gave me a brief, encouraging nod.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n. Just be careful.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I climbed out of the SUV, the weight of his concern following me like a shadow.

I was about to step into the unknown, but I knew I wasn’t alone. He was with me, even from a distance.

My mind raced, but I pushed everything out except for the task at hand.

I spotted the suspect across the street, her dark hair falling in waves, the same confident air about her that I’d seen in the footage.

My heart skipped a beat as I took in her appearance—she really did look so much like me.

A small voice in my earpiece crackled to life, and I heard Nyla’s voice.

“Y/n, it’s time. Approach now.”

I swallowed hard, adjusting my bag on my shoulder as I took the first step toward her.

The street was quieter now, the hum of the city a distant murmur as everything seemed to slow down.

As I got closer, I could feel my nerves tightening again, but I kept my posture steady.

This was my chance.

I hesitated for just a moment, then took a deep breath and spoke, my voice steady despite the racing of my pulse.

“Hey, I know this is going to sound crazy, but…” I paused for effect, giving her a moment to meet my eyes.

“We’re twins. I’ve been looking for you.”

Jenna’s gaze flickered over me, studying me with that skeptical look I had seen in the footage.

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.

“Twins? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

But there was a glint of curiosity in her voice, the intrigue still there.

I forced myself to smile, trying to appear more confident than I felt.

“No joke,” I said, keeping my voice light.

“I’ve been searching for you for a long time. I think we have a lot in common.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but I could tell she was thinking it over.

I saw how she studied my face realizing that we in fact did look alike.

I kept the conversation going, careful to stay in control and play the part.

I could hear the faint crackle of Nyla’s voice in my ear again, but this time, it wasn’t just advice—it was encouragement.

“You’re doing great, Y/n. Just keep going.”

As the conversation continued, I knew it was just a matter of time before we got the information we needed.

The team was ready, and I could feel their support, even if they weren’t physically close.

Everything was falling into place.

As the conversation with Jenna continued, I could sense her growing skepticism.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, like she was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not.

“You know,” she said, her tone shifting to something sharper,

“you look like you could be my twin. But I’ve got to admit, I’m not buying this whole ‘looking for me’ story. You think I’m just going to fall for that?”

I could feel my heart race, but I kept my expression neutral. My mind was working overtime, searching for something—anything—that could prove I was who I said I was.

And then it hit me. The one detail that might turn the tide in my favor.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper, holding it up between us.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but a few years ago, I found this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“It’s an old family picture, one I never thought I’d find. But it’s us—this was taken when we were kids.”

It was a photoshopped picture to make everything more believable.

Jenna’s eyes flickered to the photo, then back to me. She looked almost intrigued, but there was still a slight hesitation in her expression.

I quickly added, “I didn’t know about you until recently, but after I found this, I had to track you down. I knew it was fate.”

Her eyes softened slightly as she reached for the photo, her fingers brushing mine.

She studied it for a long moment, almost as if she was hoping the photo would tell her something she hadn’t expected.

Finally, she looked back up at me, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

“Alright,” she said, her tone lightening a little.

“Let’s say I believe you for now. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to trust you completely. You might still be playing me.”

I took a breath, maintaining my calm exterior despite the racing thoughts in my mind.

I needed to push further and make her believe me.

“Look,” I said, lowering my voice just a bit,

“I know it’s hard to trust someone who just shows up out of nowhere. But I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just trying to find the truth. And you know what?”

I paused, letting the silence linger before continuing.

“I can help you. I can help you get away from this life. You don’t have to keep running.”

The smirk faded from her face as she regarded me seriously now.

“You think you can just walk in and fix everything for me?” she asked, a hint of doubt in her voice.

“You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me. But I didn’t back down.

“I don’t know everything. But I know enough to help. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to keep hiding, Jenna. I’m not here to judge you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then her eyes flickered to the ground, her hands trembling slightly.

She seemed to be weighing something in her mind. Then, to my surprise, her voice dropped to a quiet whisper.

“You want to know what I’ve done? Fine. You wanna know why I’ve been running? I’ll tell you. But you’d better not try to stop me when I say this.”

I nodded, urging her on. My stomach twisted with anticipation. This was it.

“I’ve done more than just that robbery,” she began, her voice cold.

“I’ve been part of some dangerous things—more than I can count. I’ve been involved in setting up people, running scams, and doing things I can’t even talk about. Robbing that boutique? That was easy. But that’s nothing compared to the bigger stuff.”

I could hear the tremor in her voice, but there was also a sense of relief, like confessing was something she’d been holding back for far too long.

I was recording every word, making sure I had the evidence we needed.

“There’s a group... and we’ve been working together for years. It’s not just petty crime. We’re talking about things that could ruin people’s lives, and I’ve been a part of it all.”

She paused, her eyes darting to the street around us as if expecting someone to appear.

“But I’m done. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing that I had gotten her to confess, but I kept my face neutral.

I also knew the whole "I'm done" thing she confessed was a big lie. She probably told me that since she didn't trust me.

“You don’t have to do it anymore, Jenna. You’ve got a chance to make things right.”

The moment Jenna finished confessing, I could feel the tension in the air shift.

Her eyes, wide with the weight of her words, slowly began to narrow.

She was still processing what she had said—admitting to the robberies, the dangerous work, and the people involved.

But as she looked at me, something seemed to change.

“You tricked me,” she spat, taking a small step back.

Her body stiffened, and I could see the realization dawning on her.

“This whole thing was a setup, wasn’t it?”

My heart raced in my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm.

I had to stick to the plan, to remain steady.

I could feel the tiny earpiece buzzing in my ear, Tim’s voice coming through with quiet reassurance.

“Stay calm. You’ve got this.”

Jenna’s eyes flickered around, now more alert, more paranoid.

“I knew something didn’t add up. You can’t trust anyone, not in this game. You’ve been playing me the whole time.”

She stepped back again, her hand brushing the side of her jacket as though she was about to pull something out.

My pulse quickened.

I had to do something, anything, to keep her calm—make her think I wasn’t ready for what was about to happen.

I gave the tiniest of nods, the secret signal that I had to use to alert the team. That was the first sign.

My fingers were trembling, but I kept my hand steady as I subtly tapped the recorder hidden in my sleeve.

Jenna seemed to miss the movement, her gaze still darting around the alley.

“So what now, huh?” she asked, her voice almost too casual.

“You gonna turn me in? Is that how this works?”

I swallowed hard, holding her gaze, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve already turned yourself in, Jenna. This isn’t a game anymore. This is your chance to make it right.”

But before she could respond, I saw the shadow of movement from behind her.

The officers were closing in—carefully, silently, just like we’d planned.

Jenna hadn’t seen them yet, but I could feel it in my gut that we were running out of time.

Her expression shifted again, suspicion creeping in.

“I don’t buy it,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“I don’t trust you. This is too easy.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not your enemy, Jenna. The only one you’ve been lying to is yourself.”

My words were quiet but firm, and as I spoke them, I could see Jenna’s eyes flicker.

Her hand twitched again, and for a moment, I thought she might bolt.

I could see a shiny object in her pocket and I could immediately recognize it as a knife.

But I couldn't be scared I had to stay calm.

I took another step closer, my movements slow and calculated.

I had to keep her from panicking or doing something that might harm me.

“Look, I’m not here to hurt you. You’ve done what you’ve done, but it doesn’t have to end like this.”

Jenna’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move. She looked at me, searching for something, for a reason to believe.

Then, just as I could feel the officers positioning themselves, I saw Jenna’s hand slowly move away from her jacket.

She seemed to hesitate like she was waiting for a signal.

That was my chance.

I nodded again, just barely enough to be noticed, and the team moved in.

The quiet shuffle of footsteps grew louder as the officers emerged from their positions, surrounding the alley.

Jenna’s eyes widened in panic as she finally realized what was happening.

“What the hell—” she started, but before she could finish, one of the officers stepped forward.

“Jenna Morrow,” the officer called out, his voice firm and commanding.

“You’re under arrest for robbery, conspiracy, and multiple counts of criminal activity. You have the right to remain silent.”

Jenna froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Her eyes darted around, her hands raised defensively as though she could still escape, but it was too late.

The officers had her surrounded. Her body stiffened, but I could see the resignation in her eyes.

She knew the game was up.

“You tricked me,” she repeated, her voice raw with betrayal, but it lacked the same fire it had earlier.

.She looked at me one last time, and I could see the bitter realization sinking in.

“You played me, just like everyone else.”

I met her gaze and shook my head softly.

“No, Jenna. You did this to yourself. I didn’t want it to end this way, but this is the truth.”

As the officers began to secure her hands with the cuffs, she didn’t fight back.

She was too far gone, too tangled in the web she had spun.

Jenna let out a long, defeated breath, her shoulders slumping as she realized there was no way out.

Tim’s voice crackled through my earpiece, warm and full of relief.

“Good job, baby. You were amazing out there.”

I barely had time to respond before the officers led Jenna away, her steps heavy, defeated.

The weight of the mission began to lift off my shoulders, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, but I felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. It was over.

The team had done it.

And I had done it, too.

Tim was waiting by the SUV when the last of the officers brought Jenna to the car.

His expression softened when he saw me, his eyes scanning me for any signs of distress.

As soon as I approached, he pulled me into his arms, his grip firm and reassuring.

“You did it,” Tim said, his voice low, filled with pride.

I leaned into him, feeling the rush of emotions from the mission finally settle.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I whispered, my voice catching slightly.

“I knew you were with me.”

Tim pulled back just enough to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he gazed at me with a softness I rarely saw.

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“You were brave out there. You handled it all perfectly.”

I smiled softly, my heart swelling in my chest.

“I couldn’t have done it without you or the team,” I repeated, my voice full of gratitude.

“You were my rock.”

Tim kissed me gently on the forehead, his arms holding me close.

“I’ll always be your rock, sweetheart.”

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other as the sounds of the arrest faded into the background.

The mission was over, and we had won. Together.

Back at the station, the air was thick with relief.

The operation had been a success, and the team was buzzing with excitement, celebrating their hard work.

Laughter and chatter filled the room, but I could feel someone's eyes on me—Tim.

I caught Lucy’s teasing glance as she looked between us, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“So, still think your dear wifey shouldn’t have gone undercover?” she asked, her voice playful.

Tim let out a reluctant sigh, though his eyes never left me.

“I still don’t like it and it was a one-time thing for your information Chen,” he muttered, but I could see the softness in his gaze.

I ducked my head, feeling a bit shy under the attention.

“It worked though,” I said quietly, my voice almost a whisper.

Tim groaned, running his hands through his hair in mock frustration.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” His tone was teasing, but I could see the pride behind it.

The team burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I felt Tim’s gaze warm as he watched me, and even though he was still grumbling about my undercover mission, I could feel the pride radiating from him.

He moved closer, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

“You’re never going undercover again,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.

I tilted my head up to look at him, a playful glint in my eyes.

“Maybe just once more?” I teased, earning another groan from him.

He sighed dramatically, but there was no hiding the fondness in his expression.

“I swear, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but I knew he didn’t mean it. Not really.

The team laughed harder, and I leaned into Tim, resting my head on his shoulder.

In that moment, everything felt right.

All the tension, all the danger, melted away. And I knew, no matter what came next, Tim and I would always be in this together.

And most importantly my evil 'twin' is behind closed bars and won't ever give me a bad image again.

The end

[buckysouvenir]

in the hex, episode 2: just the two of us

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n summary: Y/N, a witch with no memory of her true nature, lives a seemingly perfect life with her husband, Bucky Barnes, in a quiet, idyllic 1950s town. Everything seems picture-perfect—Y/N and Bucky are a deeply loving couple, content in their everyday routine. They share playful moments, enjoy simple pleasures, and have a deep connection that feels unshakable. Their life is peaceful, with no hint of anything out of the ordinary. However, things aren’t what they seem. authors note: in complete shock of how much all of you are so entertained by this! (i’m also grateful, don’t get me wrong haha) (it’s also carnival in my country so apologies for any delays in posting!!!)

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reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

The morning air is crisp, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery down the street. The town is alive with friendly chatter, neighbors tending to their gardens, and kids riding bicycles along the sidewalks.

Y/N and Bucky walk hand in hand through the bustling town square, a woven basket hooked over Y/N’s arm.

“You sure we needed this much fruit?” Bucky teases, glancing at the assortment of apples, oranges, and peaches she insisted on buying.

Y/N gives him a playful nudge. “Well, if someone didn’t eat five peaches in one sitting, I wouldn’t have to restock so soon.”

Bucky smirks. “What can I say? You married a man with a peach addiction.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile, adjusting her grip on his arm as they walk. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips feels so real, so familiar. Like she’s held onto him her whole life.

As they pass by a boutique, Y/N slows down, eyeing a powder-blue dress displayed in the window.

Bucky notices immediately. “You like it?”

She shrugs. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t need another dress.”

Bucky steps closer, looking at the dress with a thoughtful expression. “It’d look real nice on you, doll.”

Y/N feels warmth creep up her cheeks. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He smirks, then tugs her inside the store without another word.

By the time they leave, Y/N has the dress neatly wrapped in brown paper, and Bucky looks way too pleased with himself.

“You spoil me,” Y/N murmurs as they make their way back home.

Bucky presses a kiss to her temple. “You make it easy.”

Later that evening, they lounge on their front porch, enjoying the cool night air. Fireflies dance in the garden, their glow flickering softly.

Bucky leans back in his chair, sipping a cold beer, while Y/N rests her feet on his lap, flipping through a magazine. The sounds of crickets and distant laughter fill the quiet.

“I love nights like this,” Y/N says, stretching her arms above her head. “Just you, me, and the stars.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? I thought you liked the big town parties.”

“I do,” she admits. “But… I think I like this more.”

Bucky’s fingers trace lazy circles on her ankle. “Me too.”

A comfortable silence settles between them.

Then—

A flicker.

The porch light above them dims, then flickers violently before shutting off completely.

At the same time, the radio inside the house crackles to life, though neither of them turned it on. A voice—garbled and distant—echoes from within.

Bucky sits up straight. “Did you hear that?”

Y/N nods slowly, placing her magazine down. “Yeah…”

The radio crackles again. The voice is distorted, layered, almost pleading—

“Ca—… an y—… me?”

Bucky stands, instinctively moving in front of Y/N. His shoulders tense, as if preparing for something unseen.

Y/N swallows hard. “Bucky, what’s going on?”

The radio hisses sharply, then—

Silence.

The porch light flickers back on. The radio shuts off. Everything is normal again.

Too normal.

Bucky exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Probably just a power surge,” he mutters, though he doesn’t sound convinced.

Y/N nods, but her heart is still racing. She glances up at the night sky. The stars seem… off. Like they’re not twinkling quite the same way they were before.

She shakes off the thought and looks at Bucky. He’s watching her carefully, like he knows she feels it too.

Neither of them says anything.

But for the first time, the perfect life they share feels… fragile.

#taglist: @whisperingashgarden @baw1066 @mirrorballbb @skittslackoffilter @fan4astic @torntaltos @lovebabybellah

[callsign-dexter]

Wounded Hearts, Unbreakable Bonds

Request: Hello sweetheart 😘 could I kindly ask for a boyfriend!Kelly imagine where it's like the episode at the prison and the reader is inside with Gabby but some inmate comes near her, hurting her with a knife but she don't notice immediately. So after they're all out Kelly notices her looking pale and then she passes out in his arms and they're noticing the blood, immediately getting her in the hospital where she needs to be operated. Everyone stays there till she wakes up but Kelly is not saying anything which worries her. So after a while he admits how worried he was and that he was too scared to lose her and it's all just terribly cute and fluffy 🥹?

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Herrmann!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, knives, stab wounds, blood, pregnancy talk, hospitals, inaccurate medical talk, prison

Masterlist

4 days. 4 days until you married the love of your life. 4 days until you and Kelly Severide tied the knot and could start your family. 4 days until your life actually began together but it only took 1 day for it all to be ruined and make the wedding be pushed back while you laid in a hospital bed recovering from a work accident that you shouldn't have even been called to in the first place, or so Kelly said. Wondering how this all happened? Well, it all started the afternoon ambulance 61 got called to a prison where chaos ensued. 

-

The sun started to peek through the curtains of your shared room with your fiancé. The familiar yet heavy weight of his arm settled over your side and over your stomach ready to pull you into his body if he needed to. You were still sound asleep as the warmth hit your face that made you want to curl further into him. Kelly, being an early riser naturally, woke up before you and just stayed in bed enjoying you being in his embrace. Having felt his breathing change made you wake up. “Staring at someone is rude.” You said and you could feel him chuckle and his arm tighten around you.

“I can’t help it when the sight in front of me is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on.” Kelly said smoothly and you blushed. 

“I could just stay in bed with you all day.” You said

“Why don’t we?” He asked and you chuckled.

“Because Boden would have our heads and my father would kill you.” You said

“Herrmann loves me.” Kelly said and that made you chuckle and turn to face him. 

“He does but he is also protective and would do anything that involves you making me lose my job.” You said and he laughed and smiled.

“Alright alright you got me there. Come on, let's get going.” He said removing his arm as you started to get up but as soon as you did you were pulled into his embrace once again. He rolled you over to where he was on top and started to kiss you slow and tenderly. “I love you, wife.” He said.

“I love you too, husband.” You said and he smiled and kissed you one more time as you put your hands on his bare waist. 

“Alright let’s get going.” He said as he got and so did you. Both of you got ready together and then headed into the kitchen where you grabbed food to go and headed out the door. Kelly carrying both of your bags as. You both got into his Jeep and headed to 51, along the way you talked about your life and the wedding. Most importantly you talked about having kids and both have agreed that you wanted them. The conversation was left on hold as he parked on the road beside the firehouse and you both walked hand in hand into the firehouse. 

“There are two love birds!” Your father, Christopher Herrmann, yelled out and that got everyone else's attention. Everyone greeted the both of you and then you walked into the locker rooms to change. As you were closing your locker your last name caught your eye and then you smiled. Kelly walked over to you and put a hand on your back

“Just think in 4 days this tape will be changed to Severide.” You said and he smiled and kissed your temple.

“It’s going to be the most amazing day.” He said and then the two of you walked to the briefing room where Wallace Boden gave you the rundown and the need to know. Just as he finished the calls started.

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Truck 51 house fire 148th Street.” 

Everyone jumped up and started towards their vehicles. You were quickly met with Gabriela Dawson and Leslie Shay; they were your partners on Ambulance 61 coming in when Shay came in and the three of you made a great team. Everyone worked harmoniously together and that made Boden keep three people on ambo and not split you three up. “Good morning.” They both said at the same time. 

“Good morning.” You said as you three climbed in your respective places.

“So did any more planning get done?” Shay asked, looking at you and you looked at her. She along with Gabby were a major help when it came to planning the wedding.

“A little bit but someone didn't want to help plan last night.” You said hitting at the fun that you and Kelly got up to last night making both of you exhausted and not wanting to get up. 

“Ok ok I did not need that picture in my head.” Shay said grimacing and you smirked.

“Hey you asked!” You exclaimed and everyone chuckled as you rolled up onto the scene. The call was an easy one and you had to send one guy to Chicago Med but other than that it was relatively easy. Ambulance 61 was the last one to arrive at the firehouse and as you pulled in you could see Kelly sitting at the Squad table and his eyes were trained on the vehicle. When the vehicle was parked you were getting out and heading to him. 

“Hi.” He said as he pulled a seat up for you.

“Hi.” You said back.

“How come she gets to sit at the Squad table?” Peter Mills, the new candidate, asked, clearly jealous.

“Well, when you are engaged to the Lt. you have the right to sit with Squad.” Herrmann said and you smiled and you could see the shock on Peter’s face.

“You’re engaged to each other?” He asked and Kelly nodded.

“Sure are! We are getting married in 4 days.” You said as Kelly brought you into his embrace. Peter didn’t say anything, just went back into the kitchen area to get started on food. “Do you think the Chaplain Orlovsky will marry us?” You asked as whatever card game Squad had going on continued.

“Oh, I’m sure he would. He adores you.” Kelly said and you knew he was right. When you were going through a very rough period in your life, he was the one you were turning to and he opened his arms to you. He treated you like you were his own. 

“So where are you planning on having this wedding again?” Harold Capp asked.

“If all goes to plan, we are planning to have it on our property that we have.” Kelly said as he laid his cards down. Yes, you and Kelly actually had a house on several acres of property and the house was recently finished with the help of Matt Casey, Lt. for Truck 81 and yours and Kelly’s best friend. “It’s going to be a house reveal too.” He added that was something new that they hadn’t known. You both were staying in an apartment while the house had gotten built. Pretty much everyone knew you both had bought property and were building but they didn't know the plans of the house besides a select few, Casey, Herrmann, Shay, Gabby, and your mom. 

“And if not. We've arranged to have it here with Boden’s permission of course.” You said. “Hey I'm gonna go and get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?” You asked standing up. The other two said no but Kelly said yes and you smiled and nodded. You walked into the kitchen area and to the fridge grabbing drinks for you and Kelly. Just as you opened the fridge to grab drinks the bells sounded.

“Engine 51, Squad 3, Truck 81, Ambulance 61, Battalion 25….” 

You rushed out of the room and to the ambulance. “Did I hear that right?” Shay asked.

“Yup, it is the prison.” You said and then everyone was heading off towards where the emergency was. It didn't take very long to get there and once there you three got out as everyone else was getting out. Boden gave orders and then the three of you along with some of Truck 81 were on their way. Orders were given and everyone went where they needed to go, you and Gabby went with Peter Mills to one person down that was around other inmates. 

“Hey, let us through.” One of the prison guards said as the four of you made your way through. Inmates hesitantly let you through but it wasn’t without a fight finally you arrived at the down inmate. 

“Sir, can you hear me?” You asked and got no response then you noticed the bleeding. Everyone was crowding around and you were getting annoyed “HEY, BACK OFF!” you yelled and to your amazement they did. He came too with a start but quickly calmed him down and must’ve had a shank in his hand and quickly stabbed you, the pain took your breath away but nobody and then it was pulled out you didn’t say a word. After he passed out again you patched up. You didn’t say anything to neither Gabby nor Peter and they did see. 

“Let’s get him moved.” Peter said and you nodded and so you three headed away from the group. You wrapped your turnout coat around you tighter and headed off. Moving hurt but you pushed through it. Breathing became difficult but you didn’t let it be known and you were turning paler by the minute but thankfully the lights were dimmed almost off. Everyone got out into the hallway and Peter tried the door but it was locked “The door is locked. Can someone radio out to the others?” He asked as he worked on getting the inmate secured.

“I got it.” Gabby said as you sat there you were getting weaker and weaker.

—

“How are the turning lights going?” Chief Boden asked into the radio.

“We are in the building and about to flip the switch.” Kelly said coming through on the radio.

Kelly was focused but he also worried about you. He loved you and didn’t want anything to happen to you so when he learned that you were going in with Gabby and Peter, he was worried but that made him work that much faster. He worked effortlessly and he and other members of Squad were able to turn the lights back on.

“Hey Kelly, can you send the smoke into the chapel?” Casey asked

“Yea, why?” Kelly asked

“Just trust me.” Casey said and so Kelly did. Soon Kelly was heading back outside but now he and a few others needed to go on a rescue mission. 

He and Capp were ordered to go into the prison and start to try and get the doors open and everyone out. They made their way through and they got Casey out and then he was heading for you. They eventually got to you and you were relieved everyone transported the inmate out of the prison and onto a gurney. Kelly turned to you and almost immediately noticed how pale you were. “Are you ok?” Kelly asked and you were slow to look at him and respond.

“Yea, I am fine.” You said and attempted to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes.

“You had me really worried while you were in there and I was out here.” He said 

“I can take care of myself.” You said chuckling and wincing and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I know you can. Are you sure you’re, ok?” He asked again.

“I told you I’m fine.” You said and tried to take a step but you found yourself tumbling straight into his arms.

“Woah.” He said catching you. “Hey I need help over here!” He yelled and when one person of 51 yells everyone comes running. 

“What happened?” Gabby asked as Kelly gently laid you down.

“We were talking and she tried to take a step and fell into my arms.” He said and he started to get your turnout coat off and then he spotted the darker blue spot that was steadily growing. “Was she stabbed?” He asked.

“If she was, we didn’t know it. Let’s get her in Ambo and get her to Med.” Peter said 

“I’m going with.” Kelly said to Boden and he nodded.

“We’re right behind you.” He said and so they loaded you up and headed to Med. 

“You’re going to be ok.” Kelly whispered and kissed your hand, more specifically your hand that had your engagement ring on your finger. Gabby worked on you quickly and efficiently until you were rolling up on Med’s emergency entrance. Gabby was quick to spout off the information and then you were being wheeled away. Kelly was a nervous wreck and he had every right to be. Before you went in, they gave him your engagement ring and he sat there looking at it and messing with it.

“She’s going to be ok.” Herrmann said and Kelly looked up at your dad.

“I’m scared. She looked so pale and fragile.” Kelly said and your dad sat down beside him. 

“She loves you and wouldn’t leave. Besides, she is a Herrmann and she's tough. She’s not going to let a stab wound take her down.” He said and Kelly nodded, tears running down his face.

— 

2 hours later your doctor came out and everyone stood up. “Y/N Herrmann?” Your doctor asked and Kelly and Herrmann stepped forward.

“I’m her father and this is her fiancé.” He said and she smiled and nodded.

“Both of them are perfectly fine and they’re stable.” She said 

“Both?” Kelly asked and your doctor smiled.

“Yes, both. I take it you didn’t know?” She asked and he shook his head shocked.

“I’m going to be a grandpa?” Herrmann asked and again she smiled.

“That would be correct. She’s just coming out of surgery. Nothing major was hit. I’ll have a nurse come by and get you when she is up for visitors.” She said and everyone nodded. 

“Congratulations, you’re going to be a daddy.” Shay said, coming up to him smirking and hugging him. Everyone came up and congratulated both of them. They both said their ‘thank yous’ and then a nurse came in and took them both to your room. When they got there, you were just waking up.

“Hey.” You whispered 

“Hey, Honey.” Herrmann said as Kelly said “Hey, Baby.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said and they both shook their heads.

“No, don't apologize. Everything and the both of you are ok.” Kelly said

“Did you know?” Herrmann asked and you looked up at him. 

“No, but it explains a lot. They said I’m 8 weeks along.” You said 

“You know your mother called it.” Your dad said.

“She did?” You asked and he nodded.

“She knew the signs and pointed them out.” Herrmann said and you smiled.

“Kels, do you have my ring?” You asked and he smiled and nodded and slid it onto your finger.

“We’re definitely pushing the wedding back.” Kelly chuckled 

“I think I’m ok with that and everyone will understand.” You said 

“I’m going to tell the others and call your mom.” Herrmann said and you nodded. No, it was just you and Kelly.

“You had me worried, you know.” Kelly said and you looked down ashamed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You said and tears fell down and he was quick to wipe them away. “I should’ve told someone but we had a patient to take care of and Peter and Gabby didn’t need a second patient to take care of.” You explained and then afterwards he then kissed you tenderly and when he pulled back, he placed a hand on your stomach. “I hope they look just like you.” You whispered. Kelly leaned down and kissed your stomach as you put your hand on his head.

“I’m just glad you're both ok. No matter who they look like or who they take after they’re going to be perfect.” Kelly said and after he sat up and looked at you smiling and you smiled back putting a hand on his cheek. 

“I love you.” You said

“I love you too.” He said back. 

While you and Kelly had your moment Herrmann just got off the phone telling your mother what happened and telling the team. Sure, Kelly might come on strong sometimes but he was going to be an amazing husband to you and he’s going to be an amazing father to your kid. He knew that Kelly would take care of you both in sickness and health.

Tag List:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@wintersoldierchronicles

@callsign-revenge

@docockschest

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage May 2025 Issue ft. Koga Ruito, Kawasaki Honoka and Kamata Erena (translation below)

Publication: April 10, 2025

The curtain rises on the revenge drama

The rift between Shouma and Karakida Hanto has been resolved, Shouma recovered from the mental and physical ailments that he had been suffering from, and Hanto defeated Suga Kenzo, who had continued to use him as his test subject. While Shouma and his friends were deepening their bonds, a major change was also taking place over at Stomach Inc, a company that manufactures and distributes dark sweets by using humans as ingredients. Jiip, whose whereabouts were unknown for a long time, has returned as the husband of Lizel Jaldak, the daughter of the president of the Granute world.

With the appearance of the new characters Lizel and Bocca, as well as the return of Jiip and his rebellion against Stomach Inc, a new chapter has begun. So far, the story of "Kamen Rider Gavv" has been focused on the human world, but now that powerful figures are emerging from the Granute world, there's no doubt that their world will become more prominent.

Furthermore, Siita, who was supposed to have been blown to bits during the battle against Shouma, will also reappear. In what shape will Siita be involved in the story, and how will the actions of Jiip and Lizel affect Shouma and the other Kamen Riders? Don't miss a single moment of the thrilling second half! _

Koga Ruito (Jiip) x Kawasaki Honoka (Siita) x Kamata Erena (Lizel)

-The cute but scary Lizel's irresistible charm-

"While Siita and Jiip play the roles of villains, they gained a great amount of popularity, and when Siita left the show in episode 14, many people voiced their disappointment."

Koga: I'm grateful, I truly am. Ever since I was told that my character's name was Jiip Stomach, I thought that if I searched him up on SNS, the only results I'd see would be for "Jeep" cars (everyone laughs). Thanks to the tons of feedback I've received, I feel that I'm seeing topics of the car and Jiip Stomach at a ratio of about 7 to 3 (laughs). I'm happy listening to everyones various opinions, and I'm also secretly saving illustrations when I see them.

Kawasaki: Even now, it makes me happy to see that people haven't forgotten about Siita and are still drawing her. Normally, you're forgotten about once you make your exit, right?

Koga: Isn't it impossible to forget about Siita when watching Gavv?

Kawasaki: Is that true?

Koga: What I mean to say is that I hope they remember (laughs).

Kawasaki: Fair enough (laughs). Still, I'm fortunate that illustrations are being drawn of her.

"Kamata-san, what are your impressions of Gavv?"

Kamata: Since the show uses a motif based around sweets, tons of sweets appear, and every time I watch it I think, "That looks tasty" or "I'm hungry" (laughs). At any rate, I think it's a fun show to watch.

"Were there any sweets in particular that you liked?"

Kamata: I myself love to eat, so everything looks delicious, but the soda gummies left a lasting impression on me. He makes eating things like cake look so delicious (laughs).

Koga: Shouma's really skilled at giving eating reactions (laughs).

"Jiip had been "out of the spotlight" for a lengthy amount of time, but we think many fans were shocked to see him reappear alongside his new wife Lizel in episode 29."

Kawasaki: I never thought he'd get married

Koga: I was shocked when I read the script too. In the very beginning, a few words appeared that alluded to marriage, but I would've never imagined that it'd be brought back up now and turned into such a big event.

Kawasaki: You figured it out, huh?

Koga: As expected, we can't underestimate Komura-san's scripts.

Kamata: The foreshadowing has been properly thought out, huh?

Koga: That's right. The story has been carefully thought out, but it's difficult reading into how each and every element will develop.

"The setup of Lizel also being the president's daughter left a strong impact. It was also surprising to learn that there's a president in the Granute world."

Koga: I know, right? It seems that stuff resembling politics is present in the Granute world too.

"Kamata-san, what kind of person do you see Lizel as?"

Kamata: She only just made her appearance, and there's still alot that I can't talk about, but……generally speaking, I think she's a selfish girl, and I'm doing my best to make her as detestable as possible (laughs).

Koga: Jiip and Siita had always been messing around in their own little world, where they'd both cover for each other, but that's since fallen apart. Then Lizel showed up, but will she be the one to fill the hole in Jiip's heart or not?……

"Koga-san, what's your impression of Lizel from Kawasaki-san's perspective?"

Koga: I guess the best words would be, "What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine" (laughs).

Kawasaki: My reaction as Siita would probably be something like, "(enraged) Who's this?!," right? Man……I didn't know they were getting married (everyone laughs).

Koga: Huh? It seems like no one told you. That's so strange……(laughs).

Kawasaki: I'm already feeling jealous (laughs). For my own impression of Lizel, when I watched her performance, there were plenty of parts that made me think, "How scary……"

Koga: You can't tell what she's thinking, right?

Kamata: Even though her facial expressions are cheerful, she's pretty demanding, huh? In order to give off the impression of being selfish, I'm conscious of the fact that while the content of what she's saying isn't very nice, the way I say it is like a child pretending to be cute.

"She also refers to her husband Jiip as a "cute doll," and there are times where there's no way of knowing how she really feels about him."

Kamata: That's right. As I perform, there are times where I think, "Oh!," and others where I'm like, "Oh…"

Koga: You can't talk about it just yet (laughs).

Kamata: (laughs). Still, the type of person Lizel likes isn't someone who looks happy. When it comes to Jiip, she likes him due to the various things he's been through in the past.

Koga: Right. It's because he's terribly traumatized. I wonder what'll happen to him. Will Lizel continue to use him in this way, or will he use Lizel……

Koga & Kamata: Which will it be? (everyone laughs).

-Three gorgeous and unique costumes for three different people-

"Regarding Jiip's performance, did you change anything before and after his reappearance?"

Koga: Lizel picked him up, and while at first glance it may have seemed as if he were saved, I still think his current state of mind is one where he would immediately break down if pushed. I've been doing tons of research in order to express the feeling that I don't know what he's thinking, and that his mental state is alittle unstable.

"Siita, who was supposed to have made her exit from the show, was also seen in the preview for episode 30……"

Kawasaki: I can't tell you in what form she'll appear in yet, but it was abit difficult because the setting requires a performance different from how Siita previously was. I had to consult with Koga-chan on set.

Kamata: When I watched them in that state, it looked as if they were already family.

Kawasaki: Do you mean it?

Koga: Thank you!

Kawasaki: What would've happened if Siita hadn't left and met Lizel?

Koga: You'd have to be miserable for her to like you, right?

Kamata: In that case, I don't know if Lizel would like Siita.

Koga: If anything, she probably wouldn't like Jiip either.

Kamata: If they had stayed together, he might never have met Lizel.

Kawasaki: She probably wouldn't be interested in him.

Kamata: I'd like to see a story featuring that kind of timeline.

"Siita, Jiip, and Lizel, all three of them have costumes that leave a glamorous impression. Do you have anything that you like about your own costumes?"

Kawasaki & Kamata: (glancing over at Koga-san)

Koga: Why are you looking at me?

Kawasaki: No, we just remembered what you said some time ago.

Koga: Ah! I like the view of Jiip's back side because I think it makes him appear as a stronger character than from the front. When I talked about this with both of them and the staff, they said, "You're a narcissist" (everyone laughs).

"That's harsh (laughs)."

Koga: I was just trying to say that I like how the costume looks……(laughs). Still, I really like how it looks from behind.

Kamata: I like ribbons, so in that sense, the boots are my favorite due to all the ribbons on them. Overall, I also like how there's frills and all sorts of other stuff attached to the costume.

Koga: It's cute.

Kawasaki: Yeah, it's really cute.

Kamata: I myself have a taste for cute looking clothes, and people who I've met for the first time will often say, "This is to be expected of the president's daughter, don't you think?" I'd just like to express my thanks for making such a wonderful costume.

Kawasaki: The style of Siita's jacket is cool, and her socks with the frills and ribbons are cute, as it gives off an exquisite feeling, but I like the overall look of the costume. I think my most favorite thing might be the belt.

Kamata: Yeah, it's cool.

Koga: I think Siita's characterization is a one of a kind within Gavv.

Kawasaki: I think so too. It feels like the girls costumes in Gavv are quite frilly, but Siita's is somewhere between a boys and a girls.

Koga: It gives off the feeling of a mix between a military uniform and a girly outfit, which is cool.

"Finally, please give a message to the fans."

Kawasaki: Siita's return is coming to fruition, so I want Siita fans to keep an eye out for her going forward. I'm also looking to see what'll happen with Jiip and Lizel from a viewer's perspective, and I hope to enjoy Gavv together with all of you from here on out.

Kamata: Thank you for always watching Gavv. With the arrival of the new character Lizel, it'd make me happy if you enjoy the show while becoming excited over what'll happen next!

Koga: (looking at Kamata-san) Your body language and hand gestures are already that of a young lady's (laughs).

Kamata: I can't help but do it (everyone laughs).

Koga: At last, the Stomach Family's side of the story is beginning to unfold. As the story progresses, I'm sure that there will be an increase in unexpected parts that'll subvert everyone's expectations, so I definitely hope that you'll look forward to future developments!

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now. 

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines. 

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours. 

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

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