#and he needs to make some changes to that unit to actually have what he wants and be happy
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𝓓𝓪𝔂 6
𝓓𝓪𝔂 7
ⁿⁱᵏᵗᵒ/ᵏᵒⁿⁱᵍ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
Info: Fem!Reader, cussing, description of cut skin, more cussing. Long chapter so tall better enjoy.
——— 🚔 🏃♀️———
It’s hard to ignore one person when they try to talk to you but three? Three attractive people with nice (not understandable) accents trying to get a reaction out of you? That’s fucking impossible.
‘ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕠 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕤 𝕙𝕞𝕞? 𝕎𝕙𝕠’𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥? 𝕀𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕞𝕖?’
‘𝕆𝕗 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕀 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕖𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣.’ Valeria says with a smirk.
‘𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕦-‘
‘𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝔸𝕝𝕖, 𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠𝕠.’
A look of shocked hurt crosses his face as, Alejandro, turns back to face you.
‘𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀’𝕞 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕚𝕛𝕒? 𝕀’𝕞 𝕒𝕥-𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥?’
‘𝕆𝕙 𝕀 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕠-‘
‘As funny as it's tae watch her panic over yer accents th' poor birds heart rate is almos’ tae 200bpm. Any quicker 'n' we're gonna git scolded by th' nurses again. Speaking of, probably gettin’ hungry huh? I’ll go en grab ye some food.’ You shoot Gaz a confused look as Soap stands and stares at you expectantly.
‘He’s gonn’ go grab you some food luv. Any preferences?’
‘Ah no I’m good with whatever.’ You answer with a small smile. ‘Can you please turn off the lights though, they’re starting to hurt my eyes.’ Soap flips the switch before heading out, followed closely by Rudy and Ale.
A couple quiet minutes pass till Gaz stands with a grunt.
‘I’m gonna go an update Captan’ Price on everything and you,’ He points to Valeria, ‘are coming with me. Can’t trust you won’t do anything if I leave you alone.’
She grumbles under her breath as she stands to join him.
‘Need anything while we’re gone luv?’
‘No I’m okay, I’ll see you in a bit.’
‘Okay, we’ll be back soon, push the nurses button if you have any issues.’ And with that they head out, leaving you in silence.
You sit there picking at your nails, the Mexicans are fun to talk to but the lights are starting to hurt your eye’s. It’s kinda nice being able to talk to someone other than Gaz and Chase. They’re fun to watch as they banter and try to help you understand what they’re saying. Though they won’t give you any hints to what the nicknames they call you mean.
The headache starts to make your ears ring and eyes sting. (I’m a fucking rapper now) You try laying down to sleep off the pain but after a few minutes you give up. Irritation grows in your veins as sleep tries to pull you under but the headache keeps you gasping for air.
If you can just get to your own bed then you’ll be okay. You keep a small ac unit in your room with a cooling pillow. If you can just get there then maybe you can sleep well. Your brains muddled and desperate to find solutions so you just follow the thoughts it spews out.
Carefully stepping on the ground, you’re luckily not hooked up to anything but the heart rate monitor. It’ll probably make a sound if you just take it off so you unplug it instead.
Slow steps take you to the bag in the corner holding a fresh change of clothes. They were meant to be worn in 2 days, when you actually get discharged, but you’re not walking out of here in a gown so they’re getting worn now.
Once you pull the soft pants and large tee-shirt on you lock eyes with your reflection in the mirror. Fuck, you forgot just how fucked up your face looks.
The bandage takes up the center of your face but it doesn’t fully cover the brushing your nose suffered. Spots of dark blue and purple creep out from under the skin colored bandage. Small cuts decorate the rest of the uncovered skin. Some of the deeper ones have tiny bandages but most are just little scabs littering your cheeks and forehead.
Exiting the bathroom you look around for something to cover your face with. It won’t be long till someone gets back and you gotta get gone. You’re about to give up, just lay back down and suffer with your headache when you spot a box on the corner of the counters. Light blue medical masks.
You snap one on as you slip through the door, signs helpfully tell you which way the roof and cafeteria are so you go the opposite direction. Luckily that’s also towards the exit.
Staff don’t give you a second thought as you slip past them through the halls with your head tilted down. The elevator dings as it arrives on your floor, a couple stepping off as you step on. The ride from the top floor to the bottom is long and slow.
The elevator stops on floor 2 and the doors ding open as two men step on, one carrying a bouquet of lillies. You shift into the front left corner and they stand towards the back right. As the elevator starts moving you glance towards the doors reflection of the men and freeze.
You recognize the one holding the flowers, Konig, Rudy had mentioned off handedly. The one with the ripped shirt, standing right behind you with the same terrifying mask on. Honestly it’s surprising they even let him in with it on. If you thought Konig was scary though, the man standing next to him doesn’t even have a word to describe the way he looks.
A mask covering everything except his eyes, like Konig, but his mask is skin tight. Outlining his nose and ears. You look towards his eyes in the reflections again and startle as you lock eye contact with him. His shrink into slivers as yours widen.
As soon as the door dings open you step out and of course, right into a broad chest.
‘Oh I’m so sorry miss, are you ok?’ You assure the man as you speed walk off, not looking back. The headache is still pounding as you rush through the hospital doors and out into the air. The cooling breeze helps cool your head and calm the pounding a bit. You head towards one of the corners cause by the door jutting out and just soak up the air.
Your eyes startle open as you heard loud thud leave the hospital. Glancing around the corner you’re hidden behind and see Konig and the mystery man standing there. You watch their heads as they slowly and methodically scan the area before standing back behind the corner.
Please just give. Please. Please. Please. Just go back and give those flowers to whoever you guys are visiting. Why did they even follow you out? Did you do something wrong? Were they gonna yell at you? Did you accidentally fuck up their flowers?
Feet shuffle closer and you hold your breath. The “fresh” air now suffocates you as it seems to grow warmer, causing your headache to flare again. You squeeze your eyes closed to try and alleviate some pain. The shuffling eventually stops and after a few beats you crack your eyes open, screaming at what you see.
The unnamed masked man is standing 6 inches away from you. You jerk your head back in shock and nearly knock yourself on the brick wall behind you but something soft protects your head. You look to your right and see Konig himself standing there, his hand being the thing that protected you from a much worse headache.
‘ᘺᕼᘿᖇᘿ ᕲᓰᕲ ᖻᓍᑘ ᖶᕼᓰᘉᖽ ᖻᓍᑘ ᘺᘿᖇᘿ ᘜᓍᓰᘉᘜ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ? ᕲᓰᕲ ᖻᓍᑘ ᖇᘿᗩᒪᒪᖻ ᖶᕼᓰᘉᖽ ᖻᓍᑘ ᑢᓍᑘᒪᕲ Sᒪᓰᕵ ᗷᖻ ᑘS?’ Ok either you’re going fucking crazy or he is just making random noises.
‘ጎ ፕዘጎክጕ ቿረቻርዘቿክ ዘልነ ል ዘልዪዕ ፕጎጠቿ ሁክዕቿዪነፕልክዕጎክኗ የቿዐየረቿ ክጎጕ. ረቿፕ’ነ ኗቿፕ ዘቿዪ ጌልርጕ ሁየ ፕዐ ዘቿዪ ዪዐዐጠ ጌቿቻዐዪቿ ነዘቿ ጎክጋሁዪቿነ ዘቿዪነቿረቻ ጠዐዪቿ.’
They share a look before the new one takes your wrist gently and tugs. You shoot him a a fearful look and stand firm, your other hand rubbing your forehead.
‘ᑢᓍᘻᘿ ᓍᘉ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ, ᒪᘿᖶ’S ᘜᘿᖶ ᖻᓍᑘ ᑘᕵ ᖶᓍ ᗷᘿᕲ ᕼᑘᕼ?’
‘I can- I can’t understand you. Im sorry.’
You mutter as you continue to rub your forehead, closing your eyes again.
Konig clears his throat and grabs your other wrist, pulling your hand off your reddening forehead.
‘ሠቿ’ዪቿ ጋሁነፕ ኗዐጎክኗ ፕዐ н︎є︎ℓρ yσυ в︎α︎¢к︎ т︎σ в︎є︎∂︎ ልክዕ ኗቿፕ ሃዐሁ ነዐጠቿ м︎є︎∂︎ι¢ιηє︎. ዐጕልሃ?’
Oh back to bed? Okay. You nod your head and slowly follow the men. You blink and find yourself tucked back in bed as a nurse hooks back up the monitor. They let you stay in your clothing, pajamas, and with short scolding left you alone. Well as alone as you can be with six other people in the room.
‘ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕠 ℕ𝕖𝕟𝕒, 𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕦𝕡. 𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟.’ Rudy winks as he places the tray of food infront of you.
‘I wasn’t trying to run. Just wanted to go home and lay in my cold dark room.’ Your muttering is barely understandable as you shovel jello in like there’s no tomorrow.
‘Ok luv, we believe you.’ Gaz smiles as he hands you a second cup of water.
You eat in silence till the door creaks open and the unnamed masked man walks in holding something. He places a light blue vase filled with the white lillies from earlier on your bedside table.
‘Oh thank you. I didn’t realize they were for me.’ You thank the new man, honestly flattered that the masked giants got you flowers. ‘I’ve never gotten flowers before,’ you say with a blush. ‘They’re gorgeous.’
‘ᖶᕼᗩᖶ’ᒪᒪ ᑢᕼᗩᘉᘜᘿ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ, ᖶᕼᗩᖶ’ᒪᒪ ᑢᕼᗩᘉᘜᘿ….’
——— 🚔 🏃♀️———
Tis all! Hope y’all enjoyed!!
#valeria cod#valeria x reader#cod rodolfo#rodolfo x reader#alejandro cod#alejandro x reader#nikto x reader#nikto cod#konig cod#konig x reader#kyle gaz x reader#gaz cod#john soap mctavish x reader#soap cod#fluffember
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For those who don’t want to read the entire mamoth post I made - here is the highlights.
We’ve had it wrong this entire time - Tommy isn’t meant to be Eddie lite at all (I mean there are elements of that for sure as we’ve discused since Tommy reappeared) he’s actually a version of Buck - he represents the unloved part of Buck (except by Maddie) - the child Buck was - Evan (which is why Tommy keeps calling him Evan!).
My big post goes into all the costuming choices and lines in the script that point to this and that this is an arc about buck learning to love himself now he’s been reborn after his death - so that he is ready for Eddie.
Tim is so deliberate in his use of words and both in the script his use of words like exhausting, and comfortable are so intentional - this is about buck actually listening to his inner voice and becoming comfortable with himself.
Eddie will be ‘out in the cold’ because he can’t go on this part of Bucks journey with him - buck has to do it alone.
But essentially it’s all a set up for buddie!
If you do want to read the full analysis I’ve done you can find it here or on my pinned post!
#this is super brief#but yeah#Tommy is a version of buck not Eddie#it all slots into place an makes so much sense - the Gerrard arc makes more sense#it’s buck being in a place to finally examine his death and see himself - messy parts and all and learn to love himself so he can move on#and get off the hamster wheel that is actually his comfort in the state of his relationship and dynamic with Eddie#it’s not about his romantic relationships - it’s about him becoming too comfortable with the status quo of the buckley diaz unit#and he needs to make some changes to that unit to actually have what he wants and be happy#911 spoilers#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 abc#buddie#anti buck Tommy#911 analysis#911 meta#anti tommy kinard
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Baby Girl Norris
Lando Norris x pediatrician!Reader
Summary: you know what you have to do — track down a world-famous Formula 1 driver, tell him about his newborn daughter, and maybe, if he’s willing, help him navigate single fatherhood — falling in love with their little family was not part of the plan … but doing so changes all your lives for the better
You take a deep breath as you enter the nursery, steeling yourself for the task ahead. As a pediatrician at the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco, you’ve cared for thousands of babies over the years. But this case is different.
Baby Girl Norris, born just two hours ago, is now legally parentless after her mother signed away all parental rights. Hospital protocol demands you track down and notify the father before assuming guardianship. Easier said than done when the father is Formula 1 superstar Lando Norris.
Approaching the clear bassinet, you gaze down at the sleeping newborn. Wispy dark hair peeks out from under her pink cap. Ten tiny fingers curled into fists. She has no idea how complicated her life is about to become.
You flip through the chart again, verifying the details. Mother is French, here on a student visa. Refused to even look at the baby after a 27-hour labor, immediately signing away rights. Father listed as one Lando Norris of the United Kingdom.
You sigh, picking up the phone to dial the number listed. It rings five times before disconnecting. You try the landline for his Monaco residence with the same result. Probably outdated.
Time for plan B. You search the McLaren Racing website until you find a generic service line. Heart pounding, you dial.
“McLaren Technology Centre, this is Marie speaking.”
You take a breath. “Hello, I apologize for the strange request, but I need to reach Lando Norris as soon as possible. It’s … it’s regarding a private family matter.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Norris does not accept unsolicited communications. Have a nice-”
“Wait!” You interject. “Please, I am calling from Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. We have a newborn baby girl here, and we believe Mr. Norris may be the father.”
Marie hesitates. “Hold please, I’ll transfer you.”
Your pulse quickens. This may actually work! But your hopes are quickly dashed.
“This is Andrew from McLaren Racing public relations. May I ask who I’m speaking with?” His tone is suspicious.
You explain again about the baby, her mother, and the situation.
Andrew sighs loudly. “I’m sure you understand we get calls like this constantly. Lando isn’t even in the hemisphere right now. I’m afraid we can’t help you.”
“No, wait, please!” But the line goes dead.
You frown, gears turning. The team must think you’re some obsessed fan or scammer. You’ll have to get creative.
Over the next two days, you call every related number you can find. Each time you’re met with more resistance. They must have flagged your information as a nuisance caller.
On the third day, you’re signing charts at the nurse’s station when a colleague walks by. “Did you hear? Lando Norris is coming to take a tour of the hospital next week. Some charity thing.”
Your eyes widen. This is it — your chance to intercept him in person!
You spend the next few days obsessing over what to say, how to convince him. Baby Girl Norris needs her father.
The big day arrives. Heart hammering, you lurk near the lobby, peering around the hallway corner as Lando walks in flanked by handlers. He looks exhausted but flashes his winning smile at the staff welcoming him.
You watch them start down the opposite hallway for the tour when you make your move. Rushing forward, you plant yourself firmly in his path.
“Mr. Norris! Sorry, I need just a minute of your time, it’s urgent-”
A member of his team immediately swoops in, pushing you back. “Ma’am, please. We kindly ask that you step aside.”
“No, wait!” You raise your voice over them. “Mr. Norris, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a pediatrician here. I’ve been trying to reach you for days now regarding your newborn daughter!”
The team looks exasperated, but Lando holds up a hand. “It’s okay, let her speak.” His eyes bore into yours warily.
You take a breath. “I know this sounds insane. But a baby girl was born here last week to a French student named Celeste Dubois. On the birth certificate, she named you as the father before signing away parental rights.”
You continue explaining the situation rapidly, watching Lando’s eyes widen in shock.
One of his handlers steps in. “You honestly expect us to believe this wild story? We’re on a timeline.” He tries to tug Lando along.
“No, it’s okay.” Lando stands firm, studying you intently. “What proof do you have of any of this?”
You hold his gaze. “I can show you the birth certificate, but a DNA test would confirm if you’re the father. It’s hospital policy to notify and provide the father an opportunity to assume custody.”
Lando chews his lip nervously. His team murmurs among themselves.
After a long pause, he speaks. “Even if this is some scam or mix-up, that poor child deserves to have answers. Please, lead the way for a test.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. Wordlessly, you turn and lead Lando to the lab. His team protests but he insists on following through.
In the lab, you supervise as the technician takes a simple cheek swab. “24 to 48 hours for results,” she confirms.
Lando nods, looking dazed. “Right. Okay. If she’s really mine, I want to step up. Just call me, yeah?” He extends his number on a slip of paper.
You smile and promise to be in touch. As he turns to leave, you feel swarmed with emotions. One major hurdle down, but nothing certain yet.
The next 48 hours pass at a snail’s pace. When the lab calls, your fingers shake as you unfold the results. Positive. A 99.99% match.
You pass along the news and arrange a meeting at the hospital. The press can’t know about this yet.
Approaching the secluded waiting room, you pause to observe Lando through the window. He paces nervously, running his hands through his hair again and again. His usual polished veneer is gone, replaced by a young man anxiously awaiting life-changing news. Your heart goes out to him.
Finally knocking, he whirls around as you enter. “Well? Is she really mine?”
You nod, holding out the results. He accepts them with unsteady hands.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he says quietly. “This is just ... a lot.”
“I understand. It’s a complicated situation. But you’re here now.” You offer an encouraging smile.
Lando takes a deep breath. “Can I meet her?”
You lead him to the nursery viewing room. He presses against the glass, eyes scanning until they settle on bassinet D7. His brows knit together.
“That’s her?” His voice wavers slightly.
You nod. “Would you like to go inside and hold her?”
He hesitates. “I don’t want to confuse or upset her.”
You gesture reassuringly. “Newborns seek warmth and a gentle touch. She’ll appreciate the contact.”
Looking uncertain, Lando follows you into the nursery. You lift the swaddled baby, carefully transferring her into Lando’s awkward embrace. He peers down at her, his expression unreadable.
“She’s so tiny ...” he murmurs. The newborn girl yawns, eyes still shut, snuggling instinctively into his chest.
Lando’s guarded facade finally cracks, eyes glistening. He adjusts his arms to cradle her more securely.
“Hi there,” he whispers. “I’m your ...” He trails off, not quite able to say it.
You touch his shoulder gently. “You’re her father. And she needs you.”
He nods, never breaking his gaze from the newborn’s face. “I’ll do right by her, I promise. Whatever it takes.”
Relief sweeps over you. While an arduous legal process awaits, this sweet child will finally have a real family.
As Lando rocks the baby gently, he suddenly laughs. “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Look at that hair. Thick and curly, just like her old man.”
You chuckle. “It appears so. Have you thought about a name?”
He hums contemplatively. “I’ve always been partial to Georgia. Gigi for short.”
“Georgia Norris,” you say with a smile. “It’s perfect.”
The new father beams down at his daughter. “Welcome to the world, little Gigi. I can’t wait to take you home.”
As you observe this tender moment, your heart swells for both father and daughter. With someone as loving and dedicated as Lando by her side, Gigi’s future looks bright indeed.
Watching them meet for the first time — seeing a family begin to blossom out of hardship and uncertainty — is the greatest reward of your job. As you quietly slip out to give them space, you can’t hold back a smile. Everything, after all, is turning out exactly as it should.
***
After spending over an hour bonding with his newborn daughter in the nursery, Lando reluctantly hands her back to the nurse for feeding time. He turns to you, smiling but still looking dazed.
“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N. Really. You’ve given me and Gigi a new start.”
You touch his arm warmly. “Of course. I’m so glad I could help connect you two. She’s absolutely beautiful.”
Lando grins proudly. “She really is perfect. I already love her so much, it’s mad. I just ...” His face falls slightly. “I don’t have the first clue how to actually take care of a baby. Let alone with my job, traveling all the time for races and training. What have I gotten myself into?”
He runs an anxious hand through his curls. Your heart goes out to him.
“Hey, it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow you out to the waiting room for privacy.
Lando collapses onto the sofa, head in hands. “Sorry, I’m just now fully realizing what this means. A baby, she’s completely dependent on me! I don’t know the first thing about babies. I’m barely an adult myself!”
You sit beside him. “Lando, look at me.” He lifts his head reluctantly. You offer an encouraging smile.
“It’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But you stepped up when Gigi needed you most. That’s what matters. With some guidance, you’ll be an amazing father.”
He doesn’t look convinced. You continue gently, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll give you all the essential information for first-time parents. I’ll even set you up with parenting classes, and we have a support group-”
Lando groans loudly, letting his head fall back. You suppress a chuckle.
“Okay, forget classes for now. Just focus on learning the basics. Things like feeding, changing, bathing. Infant CPR. I’ll give you my cell to text with questions anytime. Day or night.”
You jot down your number and hand it to him. He nods, looking slightly encouraged.
“We’ll also get you connected with services that can assist first-time parents with supplies, nutrition consultants, and childcare options.”
His eyes widen again. “God, I haven’t even told my family yet! Or bought anything she’ll need!” He scrubs at his face anxiously.
You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Breathe. Setbacks are expected. But you’ll get there.”
Lando takes a deep breath, regaining some composure. “You’re right. Sorry for the meltdown. I really appreciate you talking me down.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t at all anxious about this huge life change.”
You smile warmly. “But you accepted your daughter unconditionally when it mattered most. Not every man in your position would do that. I know you’ll figure the rest out over time. It’s a process.”
He nods, starting to calm down. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll take it step by step.”
You spend the next hour walking Lando through all the basics — safe sleep, feeding schedules, hygiene, developmental milestones, and pediatrician visits. He takes vigorous notes on his phone, determination returning to his face.
“Clothes, blankets, nappies, bottles ...” He mumbles to himself as he types. “Maybe pick up a parenting book or two as well ...”
You grin, happy to see him growing more at ease and optimistic. When the nurse returns with a sleeping Gigi, Lando immediately takes her back into his arms.
“We’ve got this, little one,” he whispers to her. “I’ll give you the absolute best in life … starting with a nice new flat for us here in Monaco.” He looks back at you questioningly.
You nod in approval. “Giving Gigi a stable home should be your top priority.”
He smiles down at the baby, gently stroking her cheek. “Daddy will take good care of you. I promise.”
Your heart swells at the natural bond already forming between father and daughter. In this moment, any lingering doubts fade away. However difficult the road ahead, together they’ll be just fine.
After another hour visiting together, it’s time for Lando to head out. He’s clearly still anxious but also radiating love when he gazes at Gigi.
“Thank you again for everything,” he says sincerely, shaking your hand. “I’ll call my parents when I get home. Figure out how to break the news and beg for their help.”
He chuckles and you join in. “Don’t hesitate to text me anytime. About anything.”
Lando glances down at your scrawled cell number, then back up with a crooked grin. “Careful or I might take you up on the anything part.”
You blush slightly, waving him off. “Get out of here, you charmer. Go buy a crib and get some rest. Your life is about to get very busy.”
With a laugh, Lando walks backwards toward the exit, pointing finger guns at you. “Yes ma’am, Dr. Y/L/N. Catch you later.”
You stand shaking your head as he disappears from view. What an interesting patient case this has turned out to be.
Over the next several weeks, you and Lando text constantly. He sends cute videos and photos of Gigi along with his near-constant questions about her care. You don’t mind at all — you’re happy to guide him through this life transition.
True to his word, he quickly finds and furnishes a family-friendly luxury apartment in Monaco. He introduces Gigi to his stunned but excited parents via video call. He adjusts his training schedule to maximize time with her.
When his race travel resumes, he arranges for his parents or a local nanny to assist with Gigi full-time. Still, being apart takes an obvious toll on him.
The day before he’s set to fly to Australia for the first race of the season, Lando texts you a selfie looking forlorn, with Gigi snoozing on his chest.
Can you believe she’s already a month old? I don’t want to leave her!
You grin down at the photo. Gigi’s little rosebud lips are slightly parted as she sleeps. Lando’s staring at her adoringly despite the bags under his eyes.
I know it’s hard being away from her. But Gigi knows she has a father who loves her so much. Focus on making her proud out there!
You always know just what to say, doc. I’ll text you after the race!
You smile softly as you set down your phone. Over the past weeks, you’ve found yourself looking forward to Lando’s frequent messages and photos. He’s relieved when you reassure him he’s doing a great job as a new dad. And seeing Gigi thrive and grow under his doting care makes your heart fuller.
Professionally, your work is done now that Gigi and Lando are connected. But you can’t help feeling personally invested in this little family you helped create. You make a silent vow to always be there for them both, as long as they need you.
***
Weeks later, you’re jolted awake by your ringing cellphone. Bleary-eyed, you check the time: 2:37 am. Who could be calling at this hour?
You don’t recognize the number on your buzzing phone. But you answer anyway, just in case it’s an emergency.
“Hello?” You mumble into the phone.
“Y/N? Oh thank god!” The panicked voice on the other end makes you sit bolt upright.
Lando.
“Lando? What’s wrong?” Worry floods your system, instantly washing away any grogginess.
“It’s Georgia,” he cries. “She woke up crying and felt so hot. I took her temperature — it’s 39 degrees! I think she has a fever?”
You’re already throwing off your blankets, phone tucked against your shoulder. “Okay, stay calm. How is she acting otherwise?”
“She’s crying and really fussy. Won’t take her bottle. I don’t know what to do!” Lando sounds near tears himself.
“Shhh, deep breath,” you soothe. “Fever in babies this young is serious. You need to take her to emergency department right away.”
“Right, emergency, of course-” Lando rambles nervously.
“I’ll meet you there ASAP. Princess Grace Hospital, yes?”
“Yes, please hurry!” He ends the call abruptly. You scramble for clothes with adrenaline pounding.
In under ten minutes, you’re peeling out of your driveway towards the hospital. Even at this hour, Monaco’s streets remain congested. You drum your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, praying Georgia will be okay.
Once you’ve parked, you race inside the ED doors. Your eyes scan the crowded waiting room until you spot Lando pacing in the corner, Georgia whimpering against his shoulder.
You rush over. “Lando!”
He turns, relief washing over his features. “Y/N, you came. Thank you.”
“Of course.” You squeeze his arm comfortingly before looking Georgia over with practiced eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, eyelids fluttering as she whines. Definitely not well.
Lando bounces lightly, trying to soothe her. “They told me it’s at least an hour wait. She’s getting worse though.” His eyes glisten with tears.
Your protective instincts flare, seeing them both so distraught. Striding to the check-in desk, you put on your most authoritative voice.
“Excuse me, I’m Dr. Y/L/N. I have an infant patient here who needs immediate evaluation.”
The nurse scans the packed waiting room. “I’m so sorry doctor, we’re doing our best. If you could just wait-”
You interrupt firmly. “This is a seven week old with a spiking fever. She requires urgent triage and treatment, not a waiting room. I must insist we be seen next.”
The nurse purses her lips, but can’t really argue with your reasoning. “Of course. I’ll let the charge nurse know to get you back immediately.”
You nod curtly before returning to Lando, who looks awed. “Blimey, remind me not to get on your bad side.”
The hint of a smile on his lips relieves you. Georgia’s still fussy as you both follow a nurse back moments later.
In an exam room, you help transfer the baby from Lando’s arms to the table. Her pitiful crying tugs at your heart.
Lando hovers anxiously as you take Georgia’s vitals and change her into a hospital gown. 39.1°C — higher than the concerning range for an infant. You frown in worry. Poor little love.
Soon the attending pediatrician arrives to assess her. You explain the situation from Lando’s frantic call to racing over. The doctor asks questions while examining Georgia’s ears, throat, and reflexes. Lando clutches your hand tightly the entire time.
After what feels like an eternity, the pediatrician steps back. “Given the fever with no apparent source, I’m concerned this could be a serious bacterial infection. We’ll run labs to check for things like meningitis. Start IV antibiotics and paracetamol to bring her fever down quickly.”
Lando pales, swaying slightly at the onslaught of medical terms. You slip an arm around him supportively.
“You’re saying she might have meningitis?” Lando chokes out.
The doctor holds up his hands. “It’s just one possibility. We’re not sure yet. The labs will tell us more.”
Lando buries his face in his hands. Your heart breaks seeing his shoulders shaking.
After the doctor departs to order tests, you guide Lando to sit down, keeping an arm around him. “Hey, try to breathe. Georgia needs her daddy calm and strong right now.”
Lando drags a hand over his wet eyes. “God, I’m trying. But she’s so little and sick. What if … what if it’s something serious?” His voice breaks again.
You turn him gently to face you, hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. Whatever is going on, we will figure it out, okay? I’m right here with you both.”
He searches your face before nodding unsteadily. You draw him into a fierce hug.
“We’ve got this,” you whisper.
A nurse entering startles you apart. “Alright, time for labs.”
You both watch anxiously as she collects blood and other samples from a deeply unhappy Georgia. Her shrieking cries at the poking and prodding are harrowing. Lando has gone deathly pale.
Once finished, the nurse situates an IV line in Georgia’s tiny hand, securing it with tape and popping a pacifier in her mouth. Her eyelids droop, cries fading to soft whimpers as medication starts flowing.
You glance at Lando. “Why don’t you hold her again? Skin to skin contact will help soothe you both.”
Looking relieved by the suggestion, Lando strips off his shirt and takes Georgia, nestling her against his bare chest. You drape a blanket over them before rubbing his back comfortingly.
Georgia’s fussing settles as her father hums softly, eyes never leaving her face. The pure love between them makes your throat tighten.
Despite the uncertainty ahead, you know Georgia couldn’t be in better hands. And you silently vow to remain steadfast by their side, for whatever comes next.
Eventually Georgia drifts to sleep. The pediatrician returns shortly after with test results. “Good news. All the cultures are negative so far. With the antibiotics and paracetamol, her fever is already decreasing.”
You and Lando both sigh in relief.
“So no meningitis?” Lando asks hopefully.
The doctor shakes his head. “Doesn’t appear to be. We’ll repeat testing tomorrow, but likely just a minor bacterial infection. She’ll need to stay a few days for monitoring and fluids.”
Lando clutches Georgia closer. “Anything she needs. Thank you, doctor.”
Once you’re alone again, Lando gazes down at his sleeping daughter. “I was so scared,” he admits softly.
You nod, squeezing his shoulder. “I know. But she’s getting great care now. Try and rest — it’s been a long night.”
Lando glances at the empty cot along the wall. “Stay? Please? I … I don’t want to be alone right now.” His voice sounds so small and vulnerable.
Your chest tightens. “Of course.”
You help shift Lando and Georgia onto the little bed. She stirs slightly as you both get settled on either side of her.
Lando strokes Georgia’s cheek tenderly. “My brave girl. You’re going to be just fine.” Glancing up, his eyes meet yours. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything.”
You offer a tired smile, taking his hand. “That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep.”
Exhaustion quickly pulls you under. But Lando’s hand remains wrapped firmly in yours until morning.
A strong bond has formed between the three of you. And you know that whatever the future brings, you’ll be facing it together.
***
A few weeks after the scare, you’re finishing paperwork at your desk when your cell rings. Lando’s name pops up, making you smile.
Since the hospitalization, you and Lando have fallen into a routine of near daily calls and texts about Georgia. You don’t mind at all — you adore hearing the latest antics and milestones of your special little patient. Not to mention Lando’s voice tends to brighten your day.
You answer warmly. “Lando! How are my favorite patients today?”
He chuckles. “Well, Georgia just mastered holding her head up while on her tummy. She’s getting so strong! But uh, that’s actually why I’m calling ...”
You detect the hesitancy in his tone. “What’s up?”
Lando sighs. “So McLaren just sprung a mandatory sponsorship meeting on me last minute. It’s in like an hour. I don’t have any childcare lined up though.”
You frown sympathetically. The demands of Lando’s career often collide with new parenthood. “Oh no. Can you reschedule or bring Georgia with you?”
“I tried, but it’s impossible to postpone. And definitely not an ideal environment for a baby,” he laments. “I don’t have any family nearby and my usual nanny said it’s too short notice.”
Your thoughts race, heart sinking at imagining his distress. “Hmm. Well, do you happen to have any trusted neighbors or friends there who could babysit?”
Lando makes a frustrated noise. “I’ve barely met my neighbors. And my mates, well, most are even less qualified than me for childcare. I’m stuck.” Defeat colors his tone.
You bite your lip, hesitating only a moment before saying gently, “Lando, I could come watch her.”
“What? Really?” He sounds stunned. “But isn’t it your day off?”
“It’s no problem, truly,” you insist. “I don’t live far. Be there in fifteen?”
“I-I don’t know what to say. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. Thank you, thank you!” Lando gushes gratefully.
You smile, already grabbing your keys. “Anytime. See you soon!”
On the drive over, butterflies flutter in your stomach. You adore Georgia, of course. But something about visiting Lando’s home, being fully immersed in his world, feels monumentally intimate.
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that your priority is helping a friend in need.
You park outside Lando’s sleek modern condo building and take the elevator up after checking in with the concierge. Before you can even knock, the front door swings open.
“Y/N, thank god,” Lando sighs in relief. He looks unfairly attractive despite being slightly disheveled in a dress shirt and slacks. “Please, come in.”
Stepping inside the open concept condo, your eyes sweep over minimalist furniture and racing memorabilia decorating the shelves. Cozy baby items like a playmat and bouncer provide stark contrast. It’s uniquely Lando.
“Nice place,” you remark sincerely.
“Thanks. Still feels empty sometimes, but slowly making it a home for Gigi.” He smiles softly. “Speaking of which ...”
You follow Lando down a short hallway to the nursery. Your heart melts at the sight of Georgia kicking on a playmat, wearing a pink romper with a giant bow.
Lando swoops her up, blowing raspberries on her cheek. “Daddy’s got a big important meeting, princess. But Y/N is going to play with you instead.”
He passes the baby over. Georgia gives you a gummy smile, cooing.
“There’s my sweet girl.” You tickle her belly, eliciting a giggle. Lando beams proudly.
“Alright, her bottle is prepped in the fridge, and there’s clean nappies on the change table. Call if you need anything at all.”
Lando leans down to kiss Georgia’s head. “Be good for Y/N, monkey.”
With a final grateful smile your way, he heads out. You settle on the nursery floor with Georgia. “What adventures shall we have today, miss?”
The next few hours pass in a blur of playing, feeding, changing, and rocking little Georgia. You even manage a nap time by singing softly, something that always seemed to soothe her in the hospital.
Watching her sleep, you feel a rush of tenderness for the tiny being who has depended on you since her first moments. You vow to always be there when Lando and Georgia need you.
Soon enough, Lando returns home looking drained. But his whole face lights up seeing you and Georgia on the floor.
“How’d it go?” He asks, crouching down to tickle her toes.
“Perfect. We had lots of fun, isn’t that right, lovebug?” You hand the baby over for cuddles.
“Daddy missed you.” Lando nuzzles Georgia, before giving you a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough. Truly. You’re a natural with her.”
You wave off his praise, but can’t deny the warm spark his words ignite.
After chatting a bit more about Georgia’s afternoon and Lando’s meeting, it’s time for you to head out.
At the door, Lando halts you with a gentle hand on your wrist.
“Hey, let me take you to dinner this week — a proper thank you,” he entreats. “Anywhere you like.”
Your pulse quickens. It sounds suspiciously close to a date. But Lando’s smiling hopefully, and you find yourself nodding before overthinking it.
“I’d love that.”
Lando grins, looking both relieved and excited. “Brilliant! I’ll text you details. Have a safe drive home.”
Strapping into your car, your thoughts race wildly. This man and his daughter have captured your heart. What started as a professional duty has grown into so much more.
As you drive away, Lando and Georgia waving from the window, you can’t keep the giddy smile off your face.
Your lives are intertwining in the most marvelous ways. And you can’t wait to see what adventures are in store next.
***
The following Saturday evening, you stand in front of the mirror, fussing with your hair and makeup. Glancing at the clock, you feel butterflies swarming. Lando will arrive any minute to pick you up for dinner.
You smooth non-existent wrinkles from your knee-length black dress. It’s daringly low cut for you, but you want to feel beautiful tonight.
A buzz from your phone makes you jolt. Lando is here! Taking a deep breath, you grab your purse and hurry downstairs.
Stepping outside your apartment building, you freeze in awe. Gleaming in the golden hour sunlight is a sleek dark blue vintage supercar unlike any other you’ve seen before.
The driver door opens, and Lando steps out looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit. He beams. “Wow, Y/N. You look absolutely stunning.”
You blush at the sincerity in his warm gaze. “Thank you. This is … quite the car!”
Lando grins, patting the hood affectionately. “She’s my baby — a Lamborghini Miura. Isn’t she a beauty?”
You take in the aerodynamic lines and what you can only assume is a very powerful engine. “Gorgeous. And probably costs more than my yearly income.”
Lando laughs. “But she’s perfect for impressing a lovely date.” He winks before opening the passenger door for you.
You carefully climb in, hyper aware of the tiny black dress riding up your thighs. Lando’s eyes trace your legs appreciatively as you smooth your skirt.
Soon you’re zipping through the seaside city, wind whipping your hair through the open windows. Lando navigates the roads expertly.
He glances your way. “Hope this is alright! Wanted to take the fun car out while the weather holds up.”
You grin at him. “Are you kidding? I feel like a movie star!”
He looks delighted, picking up speed as you both relax into the ride.
Before long, you pull up at the legendary Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. A uniformed valet opens your door. Taking the proffered hand, you step out feeling like a princess.
Lando offers his arm. “Shall we?”
Inside the opulent restaurant, you’re quickly shown to an intimate table beside a window overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea. Soft piano music fills the space.
“Lando, this is incredible,” you breathe, taking it all in.
He smiles, eyes never leaving your face. “Only the best for you.”
You blush again at his sincerity. A waiter appears to take your drink order. When you request just water, Lando insists you pick any wine on the menu.
You settle on a creamy chardonnay that pairs perfectly with your scallops and Lando’s steak. Thoughtful touches like him pulling out your chair or refilling your wine glass make the lavish meal all the more special.
The conversation flows effortlessly from racing to traveling to favourite films and music. More than once, Lando’s foot brushes yours beneath the table, sending sparks skittering across your skin.
After dessert, you both linger over coffee, hands unconsciously joined on the pristine tablecloth between you. The connection humming between you feels profound.
When Lando finally checks his watch with a reluctant sigh, you’re surprised to see you’ve been there for over three hours. It felt like mere minutes.
On the drive back, you steal glances at his sharp profile in the fading light. Joy bubbles inside you. The evening exceeded your wildest expectations.
Too soon, you’re pulling up outside your building. Lando hurries around to open your door, ever the gentleman. Clasping his hand, you step out onto the curb together.
Turning, you find him watching you closely. “I had the most wonderful time tonight,” you say sincerely.
Lando’s face breaks into a grin. “Truly magical. Thank you for coming, Y/N.” He squeezes your hand, thumb tracing delicate circles.
On impulse, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Lando.”
With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk inside, casting a coy look back to see him touching his cheek in wonder.
Safely in your apartment, you kick off your heels, collapsing onto the sofa with a giddy smile. The evening played in your mind like a movie — the fancy car, exquisite dinner, effortless conversation. And that powerful connection with Lando blossoming into something new and tender.
What started as a professional relationship has organically grown into a deep friendship over your shared love of little Georgia. But tonight awoke a yearning for more. You sensed the same from Lando in the way he looked at you — with affection, wonder, and desire.
You drift off on the couch still reliving each vivid moment. This feels like the start of something life changing.
Meanwhile, Lando remains fixed outside your building, fingers brushing the spot your lips graced. The soft press seared an imprint deep within him.
People had warned him pursuing anything romantic with Georgia’s physician was unwise. But from the instant he saw you holding his fragile newborn girl, instinct told him you were special. That only grew each day as your compassion and devotion soothed his frightened heart.
Tonight confirmed what he felt blooming for weeks now — he’s completely enchanted by you.
With your laughter still echoing in his mind, Lando finally drives off into the night. He knows his future, wherever it leads, must have you and Georgia in it. He’s falling, fast and hard.
And for once, recklessly chasing his heart feels entirely right. He just hopes you’ll take this leap with him.
***
On a sunny afternoon, you’re sitting cross-legged on Lando’s living room rug playing with Georgia. At nearly four months old now, she’s mastered rolling over and absolutely loves tummy time.
You grin as she determinedly pushes up on her hands, rocking back and forth. “That’s it, clever girl! You’ve almost got it.”
Georgia gives you a gummy smile before toppling over with a huff. Behind you, Lando chuckles from the couch where he’s on hold with a takeaway place.
“I swear she gets more stubborn every day. Definitely takes after me,” he remarks fondly.
You smile. “She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to work for it. Sound familiar?”
Lando laughs. “Too right. At this rate, she’ll be racing cars herself soon.”
You’re about to respond when the sound of the front door opening makes you both freeze. Before you can react, an accented female voice calls out excitedly.
“Lando, darling! Surprise, we’ve come to visit!”
Lando flies off the couch just as his parents round the corner. ��Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?”
He embraces them both tightly while you hover awkwardly behind Georgia. What must Lando’s family think finding a strange woman playing with their grandchild?
But before you can open your mouth to explain, Lando’s mum spots you. Her face lights up. “Y/N! How wonderful to finally meet you in person!”
To your shock, she swoops down and hugs you like a long lost relative. Bewildered, you return the embrace.
Over her shoulder, Lando rubs his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I may have told them a fair bit about you and Gigi ...”
His father approaches next, politely shaking your hand. “Lando speaks very highly of you, Y/N. Thank you for taking such good care of our boy and the little one.”
“Oh, um, of course!” You manage to stammer out. Lando mentioned you to his parents? The thought makes your heart flutter wildly.
Before you can dwell on it, Georgia lets out an impatient shriek from her abandoned tummy time.
Cisca gasps, immediately scooping her up. “Oh my goodness, look how big you’ve gotten, baby girl!” She tickles Georgia’s belly, eliciting sweet giggles.
Lando smiles softly at the sight. You feel privileged to witness this intimate family moment.
Soon you’re all seated around the living room, chatting comfortably. Adam keeps throwing not-so-subtle winks Lando’s way whenever you and Cisca fawn over Georgia together. Lando just shakes his head, cheeks slightly flushed.
Later, his parents insist on taking you both out to dinner at a nice restaurant. Over the meal, you observe how Cisca’s animated mannerisms and Adam’s dry wit remind you so much of Lando. He clearly inherited the best of both.
Walking back to the car afterwards, Cisca links her arm through yours fondly. “I’m just thrilled Lando has you looking after him and little Georgia. It takes a very special woman to so selflessly love and support someone else’s child.”
You squeeze her arm, touched. “Well, they make it easy. I’d do anything for those two.”
Cisca pats your hand knowingly. “I can see that, dear. Don’t ever let my son take that for granted.”
Glancing ahead, you watch Lando swinging a sleepy Georgia in his arms, gazing down at her with pure adoration. Your heart clenches.
“I don’t think that’s possible. He’s the most devoted father imaginable,” you reply softly.
Cisca follows your gaze, smiling. “He is at that. Just like his own.”
Adam wraps an arm around his wife, kissing her temple. Cisca leans into him with a contented sigh. Their easy intimacy and abiding love is relationship goals.
You find yourself sneaking another peek at Lando, imagining strolling arm in arm like that one day. But it’s too soon for such daydreams.
Still, meeting his wonderful parents today, seeing how he talks about you … it feels like things are shifting into place.
That night, as Lando walks you to your car, he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Thank you again for today. You were brilliant with my parents — they’re absolutely smitten.”
You grin. “They’re lovely. I see where you get it from.”
Lando rolls his eyes but smiles bashfully. An impulse has you leaning in to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, Lando.” With a little wave, you slip into your car before he can respond.
But the awestruck look on Lando’s face stays with you the whole drive home. Something big is on the horizon, you can feel it.
And if the way his family embraced you today is any indication, you have their full support too. You’ve never been more excited about what the future holds.
***
A few days later, you’re rushing around your apartment getting ready. Lando invited you over for dinner and a movie tonight while his parents watch Georgia. You’ve been looking forward to the rare child-free evening all week.
After debating outfit options, you decide on form fitting jeans and a silky camisole. Casual yet flirty. Dabbing on a bit of perfume, you check yourself in the mirror. You want to knock his socks off.
Precisely at six, your phone chimes with a text from Lando that he’s waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, you go meet him.
As expected, he looks effortlessly handsome leaning against his flashy car grinning at you. “Well don’t you look gorgeous tonight,” he remarks, opening your door.
You smirk, settling into the low seat. “Not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Norris.”
Lando just winks before speeding off into the golden hour sunlight. You chat easily throughout the short drive about your days apart. When you mention missing Georgia, Lando smiles softly.
“Me too, constantly. But she’s in great hands with my parents tonight.” Reaching over, he gives your hand an affectionate squeeze that makes your heart race.
Soon you pull up outside Lando’s sleek condo building. He leads you upstairs, fingers entwined.
Inside, mouthwatering aromas fill the air. You follow Lando to the kitchen where pots bubble away on the stove.
“I hope you’re hungry. My dad’s recipe for chicken curry.” Lando stirs one of the pots before glancing at you shyly. “I may have been practicing all week.”
You grin, touched that he went to such effort. “It smells incredible! I didn’t know you could cook.”
“Full of surprises.” Lando winks. “Now you just relax while I finish up.”
You perch at the kitchen island while Lando works. The domesticity of it all makes your chest feel warm. You could definitely get used to this.
Soon dinner is served along with a crisp white wine. You compliment Lando between bites, making him preen. Everything is delicious.
Over dessert, your feet become entangled beneath the small table. The simmering looks passing between you leave no doubt this is a date.
With dishes cleared, Lando leads you to the living room. “Now, the entertainment portion of the evening.” He gestures grandly towards the large TV.
You settle onto the plush grey sectional while Lando queues up your chosen rom-com. Before pressing play, he pauses.
“Do you maybe want to get more comfortable?” He gestures to the blanket and abundance of throw pillows nearby.
You smile, touched at how he’s trying to create a cozy movie watching environment. “That sounds perfect.”
Working together, you both strip down to t-shirts and lounge pants, then arrange the pillows and blankets into a comfy nest. Your heart races at the intimacy of it all.
Lando opens his arms for you to curl against his chest. You sigh, breathing in his comforting scent. His steady heartbeat thrums beneath your ear as the movie starts.
About halfway through, you glance up to see Lando staring down at you tenderly, movie forgotten. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up. Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in as his lips meet yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
Everything around you fades away. The only sensation is Lando’s gentle lips moving with yours, laced with warmth and affection.
When you finally break apart, faces lingering close, he exhales shakily. “Wow. That was ...”
“Perfect,” you whisper, caressing his stubbled cheek. Lando nuzzles into your touch.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits with a crooked smile.
You grin. “What took you so long?”
Lando laughs, pulling you closer again. Your lips find their way back together naturally. With your legs entwined and his hand trailing up and down your back, you lose all track of time and space.
Eventually you pull back just to catch your breath, lips pleasantly swollen. Lando strokes your hair tenderly.
“Y/N, you must know by now how truly special you are to me. From the moment we met, I felt fate bringing us together. And I never want to let you go.” His eyes search yours intently.
Your pulse quickens. “Lando ...”
“What I’m trying to say is ...” He takes a deep breath. “Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”
Joy erupts inside you as you throw your arms around his neck. “Yes, I’d love nothing more!”
Lando’s delighted laughter vibrates against you as he squeezes you tight. You stay locked in an embrace, trading giddy kisses until sleepiness inevitably sets in.
Lando carries you to bed, tucking you both under the covers with your head pillowed on his chest. You drift off smiling, his steady heartbeat your lullaby.
Waking wrapped in Lando’s arms the next morning feels like pure bliss. He stirs, blinking awake to see you watching him fondly.
“Morning, beautiful.” Lando caresses your cheek before capturing your lips in a tender good morning kiss.
You hum contentedly. “I could get very used to this.”
“Well luckily, you’re my girlfriend now. So you’re stuck with me.” He grins playfully.
You snuggle impossibly closer. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
***
On a sunny spring morning, you’re in Lando’s kitchen pureeing some bananas for Georgia’s breakfast. At nearly one year old now, she’s mastered eating soft finger foods.
Lando wanders in with Georgia propped on his hip, her dark curls tied up in adorable pigtails. “Someone’s ready for her breakfast!”
You grin, smoothing Georgia’s hair back to kiss her chubby cheek. “Morning, my darling! Got your bananas all ready.”
Lando settles Georgia into her high chair, handing you her baby spoon shaped like a rabbit. “Not sure who’s more excited about mealtimes now, her or me,” he jokes.
You laugh. “Gotta get our girl fed so she has energy to get into everything!”
Georgia bangs her hands impatiently on the tray until you scoop up a spoonful of bananas. “Alright, here comes the Formula 1 car!”
You zoom the spoon around playfully before popping it in her mouth. Georgia squeals in delight, kicking her little feet.
Lando leans against the counter smiling as you continue taking turns feeding her. When the last bites are finished, he grabs a washcloth to wipe Georgia’s sticky face and hands.
“Who’s my big girl eating like such a pro?” He coos, tickling her belly. Georgia dissolves into adorable giggles.
Setting the washcloth down, Lando brushes a stray banana strand from her hair. “You’re the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the whole world. Yes you are!”
Georgia beams up at him, waving her hands excitedly. Then clear as day, she exclaims “Mama!”
You freeze in shock. Did she just ...
Lando’s eyes fly to yours, equally stunned. An awkward tension instantly permeates the room.
“I-I never encouraged that, I swear,” Lando rushes to explain, panicked. “I always call you by name when I talk about you to her.”
“No no, of course, I didn’t think-” You halt, flustered. “I would never try to make her call me ...” You can’t even say it, heart pounding wildly.
A heavy silence falls. You avert your eyes, anxiously twisting the washcloth between your hands.
Lando scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she ...” He trails off helplessly.
After a long pause, Lando touches your arm gently. “Hey, look at me?”
You reluctantly meet his earnest gaze. Lando takes your hands in his, tone serious.
“Y/N, you must know how much I respect your role in Georgia’s life. We’re partners in this, fully. I would never try to force a maternal label on you.”
His obvious sincerity makes you instantly relax. Offering a small smile, you squeeze his hands.
“Of course. I didn’t think that. It just took me by surprise is all.” You take a deep breath before continuing hesitantly.
“But, well … the idea of Georgia seeing me that way doesn’t scare me. Not if it happens naturally.” You chance a glance at Lando through your lashes.
His eyes soften. “Truly?” At your shy nod, a smile spreads across his face.
“Because, well, I was thinking the same.” Lando cradles your face between his palms. “You already are a mum to her in every way that matters.”
You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Joy and relief flood your system.
Georgia makes an impatient noise, breaking the tender spell. You both chuckle.
Lando lifts her from the chair into his arms. “Don’t worry princess, your mama isn’t going anywhere.”
Hearing those words from Lando sends your heart soaring. You join the cuddle, Georgia nestled happily between you.
“Our sweet girl,” Lando murmurs, meeting your gaze over her little head. The pure love reflected back at you erases any lingering doubts.
You place a soft kiss to Georgia’s curls, then lean up to capture Lando’s lips. The promise of your future together never felt stronger.
Many more milestones await, for Georgia and your relationship both. But you know without question that the bonds between you three will only continue growing deeper.
Of all the twists and turns on this journey, your little family is the sweetest gift of all.
***
The day of the Monaco Grand Prix dawns bright and clear. You finish braiding Georgia’s hair as she babbles happily. At 18 months old now, her vocabulary expands daily.
“There we go, pretty girl! All set to cheer on Daddy!”
Georgia grins. “Dada race!”
You smile, smoothing her dress. “That’s right, darling!”
A knock sounds right before Lando pokes his head into the nursery. “My two favorite girls about ready?”
Scooping up Georgia, you turn so he can admire her race day outfit. “Well don’t we look beautiful!” Lando tickles Georgia’s tummy before pulling you both into a hug.
“I can’t tell you how much it means to have you both here today,” he says softly.
You squeeze him tight. As a pediatrician, getting full weekends off for races proved nearly impossible. But for Monaco, you moved mountains.
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assure him. Lando’s responding smile warms your heart.
The energy at the track is electric. Georgia’s eyes widen taking in all the sights and sounds. You carry her through the paddock towards the McLaren garage, Lando greeting various people along the way.
Inside, Lando steals a quick kiss. “I better go get suited up. See you after?”
You nod, adjusting a squirmy Georgia on your hip. “We’ll be cheering the loudest!”
Lando changes into his race suit, then leads you both over to his car. Georgia is mesmerized, reaching a tiny hand towards the shiny machine.
“That’s right munchkin, this is what Daddy drives!” Lando points out key features, then grabs a helmet from a crew member.
“Want to try it on?” Not waiting for an answer, Lando gently fits the helmet over Georgia’s curls. She immediately shrieks in delight.
Laughing, Lando scoops her up, zooming her around like she’s driving. “Look at you, a future champion in the making!”
You snap some photos of the adorable scene until it’s time for Lando to go off with his performance coach. After one last kiss for both of you, he disappears into the controlled pre-race chaos.
An assistant escorts you to the McLaren hospitality suite overlooking the pit lane. The view of the gleaming harbor and yachts reminds you this race is unlike anywhere else.
As start time nears, you cuddle a restless Georgia close, pointing out Lando’s car lined up on the grid. “See? There’s Daddy! He’s about to go racing.” Her little brow furrows, not quite understanding.
When the lights go out, Georgia startles at the loud roar of engines. Rubbing her back soothingly, you keep your eyes glued to the screen as the cars hurtle towards the tight first corner bottleneck.
“Come on Lando,” you murmur under your breath. He emerges from the chaos in 4th position. Off to a promising start.
Over the next 90 minutes, you fluctuate between pure elation and anxiety as the race unfolds. A collision forces Lando to pit unexpectedly. Just as your heart rate settles, another car spins right in front of him, spraying debris across the track.
But Lando holds his nerve, keeping the car under control to cross the line in P3. You leap up, cheering loudly with Georgia.
Soon Lando emerges, hair damp from the obligatory champagne shower.
His race suit is unzipped to the waist as he sweeps you both into an exuberant hug. “You did so good,” you murmur into his neck. Pulling back, Lando caresses Georgia’s head where it rests heavily on your shoulder.
“Little one tuckered herself out cheering for Daddy, hmm?” He takes her gently as she nuzzles into his chest with a yawn.
“Let’s get my best girls home.” With Georgia cradled in one arm and the other around your waist, Lando leads you out of the paddock like a proud family man. Your heart feels fit to burst.
That night after Georgia is tucked into bed, you curl up together on the couch. The TV plays highlights of the race you lived firsthand.
Lando absently strokes your hair. “You know, the lads invited me out to celebrate tonight.”
You lift your head. “Oh really? You should go have fun!”
But Lando just smiles, pulling you closer. “And miss this? Not a chance.” He kisses you tenderly. “Partying in Monaco holds nothing on being with my two favorite people.”
You kiss him again, touched. However far Lando’s career takes him, you know his heart will remain right here with you and Georgia.
***
Summer finally arrives, bringing a short respite between races for Lando. Eager to make the most of it, you suggest visiting your hometown to introduce him and Georgia to your parents.
“They’d love to finally meet you both,” you say over breakfast one morning.
Lando smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That sounds brilliant, love. I can’t wait to see where you grew up.”
You grin excitedly. “It’s nothing glamorous like Monaco. But I have so many good memories there.”
With plans made, you set off early one sunny Saturday morning, boarding a flight with Georgia securely buckled into her carrier. She babbles happily for most of the flight, enchanted by the clouds and miniature landscape passing below. Lando keeps one hand firmly clasped in yours the entire time.
Late afternoon, you finally pull up outside the cozy house you grew up in. Taking a deep breath, you unbuckle a sleepy Georgia from her seat.
“We’re here, Gigi! Ready to meet Grandma and Grandpa?”
She rubs her eyes with a tiny fist, still drowsy. Lando comes around to lift her into his arms.
“Someone’s a bit tired from all the traveling, huh? Maybe a quick nap first?” He kisses Georgia’s fuzzy head as she snuggles into his shoulder.
You nod, smoothing down her rumpled sundress. Taking Lando’s free hand, you head up the front walk.
Before you can even knock, the front door swings open. Your mum stands beaming at the threshold.
“Y/N! Oh, let me see her!” She sweeps you into a tight hug before immediately cooing over a now awake Georgia. “What an absolute darling!”
You grin. “Mom, meet your granddaughter, Georgia.” Saying it out loud sends a little thrill through you.
Your mother gently strokes Georgia’s dark curls. “Look at all this beautiful hair! Those eyes are all her daddy though.” She smiles warmly at Lando.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Lando says politely, shaking her extended hand.
“Oh please, call me Y/M/N! Now come in, come in!” She ushers you both inside the familiar cozy house.
Your dad appears from his office to exchange hearty handshakes and hugs. Lando looks slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiastic welcome.
Sensing this, you squeeze his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t I put Georgia down for her nap? You guys chat.”
Lando shoots you a grateful smile. You disappear down the hall to your childhood bedroom, now converted to a cozy nursery space. Georgia is out like a light before you’ve even finished tucking her in.
Returning to the living room, you pause in the doorway, heart swelling at the scene. Lando sits between your parents on the sofa as they animatedly show him your baby photos. His eyes shine taking it all in. This is the sense of family he’s long craved.
Eventually Georgia wakes, cranky and clingy. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent as you rub her back.
“I know, lots of new things happening today. But you’re being so brave.” Dropping a kiss to her curls, you return to the living room.
Your mother immediately reaches for Georgia, who goes willingly into her arms. “Come sit with Grandma, sweetheart.”
Settling on the couch between your parents again, Lando slips an arm around your shoulders. Georgia babbles happily from your mother’s lap.
The rest of the day passes comfortably as your parents dote on their new granddaughter. Watching your mom help Georgia toddle around the yard, your dad pushing her on the tree swing, Lando’s arm stays wrapped securely around you.
That night after Georgia is down, you find Lando out on the back porch gazing up at the stars. You join him on the steps, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“You okay?”
Lando looks down at you with a soft smile. “More than. Today was really special.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Seeing how your parents just immediately welcomed us into the family … it means everything. I never expected to find this.” His voice turns thick with emotion.
You lift your head to meet his sincere gaze, heart brimming over. No words needed, you convey it all in a tender kiss.
When you eventually pull apart, foreheads touching, Lando exhales shakily. “Being here with you and Gigi, it just feels so right. Like we were always meant to be a family.”
Joyful tears prick your eyes hearing him voice the same feeling living inside you. You cradle his face gently.
“We were, Lando. From that very first day in the hospital, I knew fate brought us together for a reason.”
Lando’s responding smile could outshine the moon and stars overhead. He kisses you again, soft and unhurried, arms encircling you on that familiar back porch.
***
Two years to the day after that fateful first meeting, you’re finishing rounds in the maternity ward when your supervisor requests you in her office. Brow furrowed, you make your way down the hall and knock lightly.
“Come in!”
You step inside to find her beaming behind her desk. “Y/N! Please, have a seat.”
Perplexed, you settle into the plush chair across from her. “Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay, I’d say.” She grins and slides an official document across the desk towards you. “Take a look at this.”
You scan the letter, eyes widening. It’s a notice of a 250,000 euro donation to the hospital’s maternity ward and nursery … made in your name.
“What? This must be a mistake, I didn’t ...” You trail off, completely baffled.
Your supervisor laughs. “Oh it’s quite real, I assure you. In fact, the donor himself insisted on being here today to celebrate.”
Before you can respond, a knock sounds. You turn to see Lando stroll in, right on cue, with a grinning Georgia perched on his hip.
“Lando!” You gasp. “Did you … is this from you?”
He smiles almost shyly, setting Georgia down so she can toddle over to you. “Wanted to do something meaningful to mark the anniversary of when we first met.”
You stand frozen in shock as Georgia crashes into your legs. Scooping her up, you turn back to Lando with tears in your eyes.
“This is too much, I … I don’t know what to say.” You glance between him and your equally emotional supervisor.
Lando moves closer, taking your hands in his. “Say you’ll come with me for a proper celebration? Just the three of us?” He brushes his thumbs over your knuckles, eyes twinkling.
Unable to form words, you simply nod. Lando’s face lights up with that smile that still makes your heart skip.
After signing some paperwork and hugging your supervisor profusely, you allow Lando to lead you out to the car, Georgia babbling happily between you. But instead of heading home, he drives to the glittering harbor front.
There, you gasp to see a magnificent yacht floating ready at the dock. A crew in crisp white uniforms wait nearby.
Lando grins at your stunned reaction. “Told you we’re celebrating in style today!”
The staff smiles warmly as you board, cooing over Georgia toddling around excitedly. She especially loves watching the foam trail behind the yacht as it pulls away from shore.
You stand wrapped in Lando’s arms, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I still can’t believe you did all this,” you murmur.
Lando presses a kiss to your temple. “You deserve it all and more, my love.”
You pass a blissful afternoon on the water, enjoying a gourmet lunch and each other’s company. Lando is attentive as ever, making sure you want for nothing.
As the sun dips low, a crew member approaches. “So sorry to interrupt, but we’ll be arriving shortly. Please follow me downstairs to prepare.”
You glance questioningly at Lando, but he just smiles and urges you to follow with Georgia. Down in your luxurious cabin, an elegant evening gown awaits on the bed alongside a tiny version for Georgia.
Your heart flutters wildly now. Lando is clearly planning something major. You help Georgia into her dress, your hands shaking slightly with anticipation.
A knock at the door announces the crew member has returned. “We’ve arrived back at port, whenever you’re ready.”
Back up top, Lando stands waiting in a sharp suit, holding a bouquet of roses. He looks devastatingly handsome.
Taking your hand, he leads you down the gangplank onto the dock where a car waits to whisk you away into the hills overlooking the sea. The sunset bathes everything in golden light.
When the car stops at a secluded lookout point, Lando helps you out then retrieves a sleepy Georgia. Hand in hand, you approach the cliff edge.
Down below, a massive light display flashes to life along the shoreline. You gasp as the glowing words become clear:
Y/N, will you marry me?
You clap a hand over your mouth, spinning to Lando with tears pooling in your eyes. He’s down on one knee, Georgia sitting next to him playing with flower petals.
“Two years ago, you came into our lives and changed everything,” Lando begins emotionally. “Your compassion and selflessness as a doctor saved my fragile new family.”
He takes a shaky breath. “But you gave me so much more than that. Your kindness, your beauty inside and out, your incredible love for me and Georgia … you’re my dream come true.”
Tears spill freely down your cheeks as Lando pulls out a glittering diamond ring. “So Y/N Y/L/N, nothing would make me happier than for you to officially become my family. Will you marry me?”
A joyful sob escapes you as you sink down, throwing your arms around him. “Yes, Lando, a million times yes!”
His relieved laughter vibrates against you. When you pull back, Lando takes your hand gently to slide the exquisite ring onto your finger. A perfect fit.
Georgia seems to sense the significance of the moment and toddles over to wrap her little arms around your legs. You lift her into a fierce hug between you.
“I love you both so very much,” you whisper emotionally. Lando’s responding smile outshines the luminous lights along the shore.
Cradling your faces in his hands, he seals his proposal with the sweetest kiss as the sunset fades to twilight.
You linger wrapped in Lando’s arms, Georgia nestled between you, as the first stars emerge overhead. Right here, surrounded by your little family, you’ve never felt happier or more at peace.
It’s extraordinary what two short years can bring — unexpected joy, profound purpose, and a love greater than you dared dream.
The brightest days are still ahead. But tonight, in this perfect moment, you know you’ve already found everything you’ll ever need.
***
The day of your wedding to Lando dawns bright and sunny — perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea.
Inside the bridal suite, your mother puts the final pins in your elegant updo while your bridesmaids fuss over the train of your lace gown.
A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. When you turn to face him in your wedding finery, his eyes well up.
“Oh sweetheart … you look absolutely beautiful.”
You immediately tear up too, embracing him tightly. “Don’t make me ruin my makeup before I’ve even walked down the aisle!”
He laughs wetly, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Couldn’t help it! My girl is all grown up.”
Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognize yourself in the exquisite dress and pinned-back curls. But the overwhelmed bride staring back has the same little girl dreams you harbored all those years ago. Dreams that are finally coming true today.
Another quick knock precedes Georgia toddling in, chubby legs pumping. Your flower girl is absolutely angelic in her silky dress.
“Mama, pwetty!” She declares, rushing over for cuddles. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent you adore.
“You look so beautiful, my love.” Blinking back fresh tears, you smooth down her unruly curls. “Ready to walk down the aisle with flowers?”
Georgia just grins and reaches for your necklace. You tickle her belly, making her dissolve into adorable giggles. Your heart swells with love for your daughter.
Too soon, the wedding coordinator is poking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s just about time!”
Butterflies erupt as everyone hustles to line up. Your father tucks your arm through his, beaming with pride. Just outside the doors, Georgia toddles down the petal-strewn aisle ahead of you both.
Then the soaring orchestral processional begins, and you step out into the golden afternoon sunlight. Gasps and murmurs rise at the sight of your dramatic gown trailing behind.
But your eyes lock instantly on Lando under the flower-woven arch, looking devastatingly handsome in his slate grey suit. His face lights up, and you know that your own mirrors the same wonder and joy.
The ceremony passes in a blur of emotions. Before you know it, the officiant instructs you and Lando to face each other and take hands. Time for the vows.
You go first, hands shaking as you pull out your prepared words. But speaking from the heart comes easily.
“Lando, when we first met under the most unexpected circumstances, I had no idea of the amazing journey we’d go on together. My job was to ensure your new daughter received the care she deserved.”
Your voice wavers slightly. “But so quickly, you both became so much more. Being welcomed into your family was the greatest gift. Watching Georgia grow, guiding her first steps and words ...”
You have to pause, blinking back more tears. Lando squeezes your hands encouragingly.
Composing yourself, you continue thickly, “I vow to always provide that same nurturing love and support. I promise to be your safe place to call home after long days apart. And I pledge to show our daughter daily what it means to be a strong, compassionate woman.”
Taking a shaky breath, you finish softly, “You two are my entire world. Loving you is life’s greatest joy.”
Lando’s eyes glisten as he brushes away the single tear trailing down your cheek. His thumbs linger, cradling your face tenderly.
Clearing his throat, he begins his own vows, voice wavering with emotion. “Y/N, you appeared in my life like an angel that frightening day at the hospital. I was so lost, overwhelmed by the massive responsibility of suddenly having Georgia.”
He glances down at your joined hands. “But your compassion and wisdom guided me through those uncertain early days. You made us feel safe.”
Looking up, his eyes pierce yours intensely. “What started as our doctor-patient relationship grew into the most important friendship I’ve ever known. And then, miraculously, into true, deep love. Thank you for loving Georgia as your own and showing me what true partnership means.”
Lando’s voice cracks. He pauses to take a shaky breath. “So I vow to spend every day reciprocating that love and support. I promise to shield you from the chaos of my world and provide a peaceful home for our family.”
Then he turns, taking a folded paper from the best man. “I asked Georgia if she wanted to say anything to her mama today.”
He opens it to reveal a drawing of three stick figures, one much smaller than the others. Scribbled hearts surround you all.
Lando’s voice thickens. “She said to tell you she loves you ‘this much’ and that you’re the best mama ever.”
A sob escapes you as Lando refolds the cherished drawing and hands it over. You press it to your heart, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.
Finally, you slip the wedding bands onto each other’s fingers with whispered words of eternal love and commitment.
When the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, Lando sweeps you into his arms for the kind of kiss that steals your breath and stops time.
You are finally, officially, wholeheartedly one.
The reception flies by in more happy tears, moving speeches, delicious food, and dancing under the stars. Watching Lando twirl Georgia around the floor tugs at your heart.
Later, as you slow dance wrapped in your new husband’s arms, Lando kisses your hair and whispers, “Ready for this new adventure together, Dr. Y/L/N-Norris?”
You beam up at him. “Absolutely. Lead the way, Mr. Norris.”
No matter where life takes you next on this journey, your family will thrive and grow stronger. Lando’s love lifts you up in ways you never imagined possible. And you vow to cherish and repay that gift until your last breath.
***
Returning home from a blissful honeymoon, you settle back into domestic life with Lando and Georgia. Mornings are spent over pancakes, playing hide and seek, and dancing around the living room. The pure joy of your little family never ceases to warm your heart.
One evening after putting Georgia to bed, you curl up with Lando on the couch and hesitantly broach something you’ve been thinking about.
“So I wanted to discuss something with you. It’s just an idea, and please don’t feel pressured at all.” You take a deep breath. “What would you think about me officially adopting Gigi?”
Lando’s eyes widen in surprise. You rush to continue explaining.
“I don’t want you to think I need a piece of paper to love her with my whole heart, because I already do. More than anything in this world.” Your voice cracks slightly.
Reaching out, you grasp his hands. “I just want to make sure that no matter what, I have a legal right to take care of her. But only if you’re completely comfortable with it!”
Lando is quiet for a long moment, studying your anxious face. Then a smile spreads across his face. “Love, I think it’s a beautiful idea.”
You sag in relief. “Truly? I wasn’t sure if it was too much ...”
Lando silences you with a tender kiss. “Gigi is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her mum. I want the whole world to know that too.”
Tears prick your eyes as Lando caresses your cheek. “The day you promised to love Georgia as your own was the moment I knew you were different. I see how you are with her — the time, the care, the unconditional love ...” His voice cracks slightly.
“You gave us the greatest gift. I want you to have the same security that she’ll always be yours.”
A single tear traces down your cheek. Lando brushes it away gently before drawing you into his arms. You cling to him, heart overflowing with love and gratitude.
When you finally pull back, Lando is dabbing at his own eyes. “So,” he says with a watery chuckle, “How do we make this official?”
You explain the process — paperwork, a hearing, lawyer fees. He waves it all off.
“Whatever it takes. I’ll call our attorney first thing tomorrow.” Lando squeezes you tight. “Soon you’ll legally be Gigi’s mum too!”
You grin and kiss him soundly. With Lando fully on board, excitement takes root.
Over the next weeks, you go through the steps — filing petitions, scheduling court dates, and explaining the process in age-appropriate ways to an occasionally grumpy Georgia when she can’t go play outside instead.
Finally, the big day arrives. You dress Georgia in her favorite pink checkered dress and do her hair in perfect pigtails.
“My beautiful girl,” you murmur, smoothing down a flyaway curl. Her answering smile melts your heart.
At the courthouse, you all meet the social worker assigned to your case. She questions you and Lando gently about your relationship, home life, and approach to parenting. You cling tight to Lando’s hand the entire time.
Finally, it’s time for the hearing before a grandfatherly judge. He smiles warmly, peering over his glasses at you all.
“Well, I must say, this is one of the more straightforward cases to come before me. I can see clear as day how much love exists in this family.”
Relief floods you. The judge continues, “Therefore, I am more than pleased to grant the petition to finalize the adoption of Georgia Senna Norris by her mother, Y/N Y/L/N-Norris.” He bangs his gavel with an air of finality.
Joyful tears pour down your face. Lando whoops and sweeps you into a spinning hug. Even Georgia seems to realize something momentous just occurred, clapping her little hands.
In a daze, you sign the final paperwork making it official before emerging from the courthouse into the warm sunlight, your family now fully complete.
That evening, after Georgia is asleep, you curl up with Lando in bed, reliving the special day. He kisses your hair and murmurs, “I’m so proud of you, Mama.”
You grin against his chest. “I never thought I could feel so much love. She’s changed my life in every way.”
Lando tilts your chin up, eyes glowing. “That’s exactly how I feel about you. My girls who make life beautiful.”
***
One sunny afternoon, you’re in the kitchen prepping a snack for four-year-old Georgia when she comes bounding in from preschool.
“Mummy, guess what? My friend Amy at school is gonna be a big sister!” She hops up on her stool, eyes bright with excitement.
“Oh really? That’s fun!” You slice an apple into bunny shapes.
Georgia nods vigorously. “Yeah! Her mum has a baby in her tummy. Can I have a brother or sister in your tummy too?”
You freeze, knife hovering over the apple. Slowly setting it down, you turn to face her. “You want a little sibling?”
“Yes yes yes!” She bounces in her seat. “I asked Daddy already and he said I should ask you too.”
Your mind spins. A baby … it’s something you and Lando have only vaguely discussed as a someday possibility. But with Georgia asking so eagerly, the concept suddenly feels very real.
Just then, Lando walks in from his office. Georgia immediately appeals to him. “Daddy, tell Mummy we should have a baby! I wanna be a big sister.”
Lando meets your startled gaze, scrubbing a hand through his curls. “Well, uh, what do you think, love? Could be kinda nice to add to our crew.”
You glance between their hopeful faces, heart swelling. “I think … that could be really special for our family.”
Georgia cheers while Lando grins, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “A mini you running around? Sign me up.” His smile falters slightly. “Only if you want to though, truly.”
You squeeze him back. “I really do. We’ve come so far since the days of newborn Georgia. I’d love to go through it all again with you.”
The joy lighting up Lando’s face erases any lingering doubts.
That night after Georgia is asleep, you curl up together to discuss logistics. “I’ll need to give notice at the hospital once I’m pregnant so they can find someone to cover my maternity leave.”
Lando waves dismissively. “Don’t worry about any of that. Focus on growing our little muffin and I’ll handle the rest.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Our little muffin?”
“Or crumpet. Jellybean. Peanut.” Lando grins. “Take your pick, I’ve got a million terrible nicknames ready to go.”
Laughing, you swat his chest playfully. Sobering, you add, “It won’t be easy juggling a newborn and busy four year-old. But I can’t wait to see Georgia as a big sister.”
Lando smiles tenderly, threading his fingers through yours. “You’re already the most incredible mum. Our kids are so lucky.”
Your throat tightens at the absolute faith in his voice. No matter the challenges ahead, you’ll get through them together.
When you share the news with Georgia, she screeches loud enough to wake the neighbors. Her enthusiasm never wanes over the following months.
Finally, the big day arrives. After a long but relatively smooth delivery, your son enters the world screaming indignantly. The sound is music to your ears.
Lando cuts the cord with shaking hands before your little boy is placed in your arms. Love surges fiercely and instantly.
“Hi Maddox,” you whisper through joyful tears. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Lando presses a kiss to both your heads before going to bring Georgia in. She gasps softly, climbing up to peer at her new brother with wide eyes.
“He’s so little!” Reaching out a gentle finger, she strokes Maddox’s downy cheek. Your heart clenches watching your babies meet.
Georgia cuddles close as you adjust her arm to help cradle Maddox. “I’m your big sister Gigi! I’m gonna help take care of you.” She drops a sloppy kiss on his forehead.
Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, you meet Lando’s equally wet gaze. The road that first led you to Lando has become so much more than you ever imagined. But you wouldn’t change a single unexpected twist or turn.
***
You link arms with Lando as you make your way through the familiar Silverstone paddock. The distinctive smell of race fuel hangs in the air, mingling with the buzz of excitement rippling through the crowd.
Georgia skips ahead, her brunette curls bouncing with each step, while Maddox clings to Lando’s free hand, his eyes wide with wonder. Alexa, your two-year-old, nestles securely in your arms, her tiny fingers clutching the McLaren teddy bear she insisted on bringing today. A small smile tugs at your lips as you glance down at her cherubic face, so much like Lando’s. Your heart swells with love for your beautiful family.
“Mummy, look!” Georgia calls out, pointing towards the McLaren garage suite. “Can we go in and see the car later?”
“We’ll see, darling,” you reply with a wink, knowing full well that Lando will ensure a special tour for the kids.
Lando squeezes your hand, his warm eyes twinkling with adoration. “Anything for my favorite girls … and Maddox,” he teases, ruffling Maddox’s hair playfully.
Maddox giggles, his freckled cheeks dimpling. “I’m your favorite boy though, right?”
“Of course,” Lando assures him with a conspiratorial wink.
As you continue down the bustling pathway, a Sky Sports reporter spots your family and rushes over, microphone in hand.
“Lando! Dr. Y/L/N-Norris! Do you have a moment for a quick interview?” He asks, his cameraman already rolling.
Lando nods, ever the professional. “Sure, mate. Go ahead.”
The reporter flashes a bright smile at the camera. “We’re here at the Silverstone Circuit with McLaren driver, Lando Norris, his wife, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N-Norris, and their children, Georgia, Maddox, and Alexa. It’s the weekend of the British Grand Prix, and the Norris family has been a fixture in the paddock for years.”
He turns to Georgia and Maddox, crouching down to their level. “So, you two must love coming to the races with your dad. What’s your favorite part?”
Georgia’s eyes light up as she launches into an enthusiastic explanation about the cars and the pit stops, her hands gesturing animatedly. Maddox, the quieter one, simply mumbles “the colors” with a shy grin.
The reporter chuckles, clearly charmed by the children’s responses. Straightening up, he addresses you and Lando. “And how about you two? Managing a hectic F1 schedule with three young kids can’t be easy. What’s the secret?”
Before either of you can respond, Georgia pipes up, “But it’s not three kids, it’s five!”
You tense, shooting Lando a panicked glance. This wasn’t how you’d planned to share the news of your pregnancy.
“Five kids?” The reporter’s brows furrow in confusion.
Georgia nods matter-of-factly. “Yep, there are two more babies in Mummy’s belly!”
A hush falls over the small crowd that has gathered nearby, and you can feel dozens of eyes trained on your still-flat stomach. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively place a protective hand over your abdomen.
The reporter blinks, clearly thrown off-script. “Well, I … congratulations! That’s certainly going to be a handful.”
You force a laugh, leaning into Lando’s solid frame. “Yes, well, Lando’s always said he wants a football team.”
Your husband grins, that cheeky grin you fell in love with, and wraps an arm around your waist. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”
The crowd titters with amusement, and you can feel the tension dissipating.
“I can only imagine,” the reporter replies with a smile. “Well, thank you all for chatting with us today, and congratulations again on your growing family!”
As the reporter and his crew move on, you turn to Lando, your eyes shining with unshed tears — a heady mix of residual mortification and overwhelming love.
“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his stubbled jaw. “I know we wanted to share the news on our own terms.”
Lando silences you with a tender kiss, his lips warm and achingly familiar against yours. When he pulls back, his gaze is soft, adoring.
“Are you kidding? There’s no better way to announce it than through Gigi,” he says with a wink. “Besides, I’m just happy the whole world knows that I have super sperm.”
You laugh despite yourself, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love me,” he counters, that infuriatingly irresistible grin stretching across his face.
“God help me, I do,” you sigh, melting into his embrace.
Georgia bounds over then, Maddox and Alexa in tow, her expression a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty.
“Was I not supposed to tell, Mummy? Did I do something wrong?” She asks, her eyes wide and questioning.
You quickly kneel down, gathering all three children into your arms and peppering their faces with kisses.
“No, my darling, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just … surprised us, that’s all.” You share a look with Lando over their heads, a look that conveys a thousand words — your hopes, your dreams, your boundless love for this incredible little family you’ve created together.
Lando reaches down, ruffling Georgia’s curls with one hand while gently squeezing your shoulder with the other. A silent promise, a vow to always be by your side as you navigate the beautiful chaos of your life together.
Rising to your feet, you adjust Alexa on your hip and take Georgia’s small hand in your own. Maddox slips his hand into Lando’s, and you set off once more, the television crew long forgotten.
This is your life — a whirlwind of races and airports, photoshoots and interviews. But it’s also quiet nights cuddled on the sofa, re-watching Disney movies for the millionth time. It’s family hugs and sloppy baby kisses, skinned knees and endless giggles. It’s laundry piled to the ceiling and sleepless nights spent pacing the nursery.
It’s messy and magical, exhausting and exhilarating. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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Tumblr in the 60s
☮ monkeewholock follow
🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈
🐞 homophilespock follow
SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK
🚀 starrfleet follow
They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.
📻 lesbianbobdylan follow
Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass
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🌻 flowerpower follow
Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes
🌻 flowerpower follow
...i just woke up, why is my askbox full
🌻 flowerpower follow
WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED
🌻 flowerpower follow
guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed
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🎹 nixonsafascist follow
do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard
🎹 nixonsafascist follow
easy website
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🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you
🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262
Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you
🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow
Oh no I think she couldn't handle that
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✌ draftdodgerdyke
DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
You should be ashamed of yourself.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
huh??
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Jesus, don't flip your wig
🙍♀️ silvermilk follow
My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.
#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft
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🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly
🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow
#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus
idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post
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The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.
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How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!
✝️ jesusrevolution follow
Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.
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help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post
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🛼 donovandyke follow
I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!
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🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287
Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!
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it literally does tho
✌ draftdodgerdyke
Another win for us hot guys
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#how do i TAG THIS#can i just tag this ''funny'' or is that patting myself on the back too much#memes#dashboard meme#dash meme#1960s#my friend tirlittan came up with ''draftdodgerdyke''#i want that fictional blogger carnally#funny#tumblr in the 60s
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Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls
Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist
Special Diet. // Spencer Reid
Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.
“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.
You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”
Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.
“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.
Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”
“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.
“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”
JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”
“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.
“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.
The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”
Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”
You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”
Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”
“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.
“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.
Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”
Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”
There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.
“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.
Emily added on. “With boy genius?”
You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.
“We present to you, baby Reid!”
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#pau’s request inbox 💌#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid#spencer reid
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The Price of Pride (15/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, humiliation, sexual tension, abuse of power ]
[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
He thought that the pain he felt in his eye socket as a child was a torture, however, the inability to take the woman who aroused his lust when she was at his fingertips proved just as unbearable.
At one moment he was furious with her for refusing him – as he pressed her against the stone walls of the Red Keep he could clearly feel under his fingers that her womanhood was leaking all over with desire – only to find later that he admired her self-denial and strength of will.
He thought that if her desire to remain his faithful and devoted wife was as strong, he would be satisfied.
The time of his greatest trial came to him in the evenings, when he lay alone in the cold, empty bed – he could feel the tension in his loins pulsing through his veins, his lower abdomen and erection, swollen and impatient, knowing that his relief was asleep a few steps from his chamber, across the hall.
He closed his eyes then, fighting with himself, not wanting her to look at him the way his mother would.
With sadness and regret.
So he waited, dying each day at the thought of her bare body, at the thought that she longed for him – he could see it in her gaze, hear it in her hitched, heavy breath as his lips brushed her neck, as he grasped her sweet breasts in his hands, wanting to feel her even for a moment.
He knew she was his, but he couldn't have her.
So that's what madness is, he mused.
He was relieved to hear that his grandsire, to his surprise, had no objections regarding his chosen one.
"She is a wise girl, bound to you with her heart and mind. Both she and her dragon will be of great use to us. With her help, we might be able to pull at least some of the Lords of the Vale over to our side – they are more likely to listen to someone of their blood, someone who knows and understands their concerns, who will not threaten them with dragonfire like Daemon." Said Otto, sitting beside him at the table in his chamber – he nodded, looking to the side with an expression devoid of emotion, not wanting his grandfather to see any sign that he felt satisfaction at his words.
She is bound to you with her heart and mind.
He felt shame and contentment that Otto thought he was not indifferent to her – he believed his grandsire was capable of seeing more than he did.
The truth was that he feared to hear something from him that would destroy her image in his eyes, deprive him of the object of trust and affection that he so desperately needed.
"The King is awake, but he is in great pain, so we have given him large amounts of poppy milk to ease his suffering." Said the Maester.
He hummed, towering over his brother's bed with his head cocked to one side.
"Mmm. See to it that he can spend the next few days in the comfort of blissful sleep." He said, glancing at the Maester, who swallowed hard and nodded, understanding what he meant.
He couldn't regain the sobriety of his mind until the nuptials officially took place.
After that, their marriage, performed in front of crowds of witnesses, united by the gods themselves, would not be able to be dissolved by anyone.
He also decided to make minor changes in the Small Council, wanting to surround himself only with people who actually wished their family victory.
His mother, though he deluded himself into thinking it would be different, was not one of them, trying to use the weakness he had for her against him, as did Larys Strong, who, true to his betrothed's words, poured poison into his ears.
Stripping Larys of his function was easy and gave him great satisfaction, with his Hand, meaning his grandfather, taking over his role.
He knew, however, that the conversation with his mother would be difficult for him and he prepared for it for a long time.
"You have served the Kingdom faithfully for many years. It is time for you to rest." He said after ordering her to stay, once the Small Council meeting was over, looking ahead with a blank stare, knowing that if he looked at her face he would feel something he didn't want to.
He swallowed hard as her figure leaned over him, as her familiar, smooth hand touched his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin.
Why couldn't she bestow such a touch on him when he needed it?
Why did he only deserve it when she wanted to soften and manipulate him, exactly like Sylvi?
"Has your loss not yet been sufficiently avenged?" She asked him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat – he looked at her, into her warm brown eyes, in which he so longed to see recognition.
However, all he saw was pain.
She suffered looking at him, at her own son, at what he had become.
Was he really such a bad person?
He lowered his gaze and placed his hand on hers, stroking her skin with his thumb, wanting to remember this moment, his mother showing him something he could call tenderness, something he would be able to cling to for years to come, deprived again of her closeness and warm words.
"This is my final decision."
His mother swallowed hard and took her hand from his cheek – he seemed to feel an almost physical pain when she did so, when an unpleasant chill surrounded his skin where her familiar fingers had been only moments ago, as if someone had forcibly torn him from her safe, warm womb.
After all, it wasn't his fault that he had been born.
"Who will take my place? Another man pushing for war at any cost?" She asked with a disappointment and bitterness from which his lower lip trembled, his stomach clenched so tightly that he found it difficult to take a deep breath.
"My betrothed."
The sight of her serene, calm expression at his grandfather's side was refreshing – her gaze, unlike that of his mother, was filled with warmth and trust.
He thought with shame that he had given her a seat in his council just to look at her.
However, as he found out moments later, he had judged himself too harshly.
"Everything is ready for the nuptials and a small wedding, which will of course take place in the Throne Room. The ceremony itself will not be grand and lavish, but I think everyone sitting around this table understands that in a situation of war we cannot afford to wantonly empty our treasury." Otto said, and he shifted his gaze from his grandfather to her – she smiled lightly when their gazes met, giving him a look full of reassurance that pomp was the last thing she wanted.
He felt a pleasant warmth in his chest at the thought, the realisation that she shared his values, his love of simplicity and, of course, unabashed modesty.
His grandfather, hearing no objection, continued.
"On that day, all the guards and sentries will be on duty – such occasions are always a good opportunity for the enemy to attack, because they take advantage of the chaos that then prevails. That's why we can't afford to deviate from the day's schedule and changes – I've also appointed my few trusted men to keep an eye on the cooks and how the food and drink is prepared."
"Nevertheless, I think it will be appropriate for me to try both the wine and anything else the Prince will want to taste." He heard her voice and looked at her, shocked.
The thought that she cared for him, that she was so concerned that someone would try to take his life by trickery and poison him, touched him.
Otto smiled under his breath and nodded.
"I appreciate your concern for my grandson, my Lady, however, I will assign a person to try the dishes for the two of you. We do not wish for anyone's death during this joyous occasion." He said softly, clearly pleased as he was with her faithfulness and devotion.
"No." She said, looking at his grandfather, then at him. "My father, and for sure all of Dragonstone and their allies, think this wedding is a further part of my abduction, independent of my free will. They will continue to spread rumours and stories that I am imprisoned by the Prince and that he, in his cruelty, forced me to become his wife. Many Lords will be present during the ceremony, and word will spread through the Kingdom like the wind. Let them, as well as others present, see the two of us forming a united front that evening, let them see me try my husband's wine."
His grandfather raised an eyebrow and readjusted himself in his chair, as surprised as he was by her words and how thoughtful they were.
"It is an intriguing approach to the matter, I admit – indeed, a demonstration of unity and solidarity can only strengthen support for our cause among the Lords. I will leave the final decision to you, my Prince." Said Otto, and he mused, looking at her with a piercing gaze, playing with the gold coin between his fingers.
"I appreciate my betrothed's devotion, however, I will not allow her to endanger herself – instead, as a symbol of unity and union, I propose that we fly over King's Landing together the next day, showing our might and strength at the same time." He said calmly – his cousin merely sighed and nodded, throwing him a gentle look indicating that his rejection of her idea did not cause her any pain.
He swallowed hard, feeling his manhood pulsate aggressively in his breeches, screaming with longing, having her at his fingertips.
After speaking to his mother, he felt disheartened, and she was not by his side.
His desperation caused him to do something he was sure he would never do in his life, considering it to be behaviour beneath his dignity.
"Accompany me on my stroll through the royal gardens. I want to breathe some fresh air and take advantage of the good weather." He hummed, passing her as he, like the others, moved towards the door after the Small Council meeting was over.
He knew she was surprised, but she moved after him immediately, having trouble keeping up with him now that she was wearing a gown, making it difficult for her to move freely.
He wanted to hide between the trees as quickly as possible, so that no servants or guards would notice them, not wishing to be the cause of mockery and gossip later.
Again.
He slowed down as they finally stepped out into the part of the Keep surrounded by shrubbery that formed a plethora of alleys – he took the only one he knew, which was the main one, hearing behind him that she followed him with the quiet rattle of stones beneath her feet.
He put his hands behind his back and looked at her over his shoulder – she smiled at him, walking a few steps behind him.
He stopped and she did the same, her head cocked in happy curiosity.
"Don't I even deserve to have you walking by my side? That kind of closeness is unkind to the gods too?" He asked dryly, frustrated and dying of longing, needing her like never before, feeling rejected and alone.
He swallowed hard, feeling remorseful when he saw that her expression changed, as if he had slapped her in the face, her eyebrows arched in pain, her eyes big and sad, her lips parted slightly in surprise full of terror.
"– n-no –" She muttered, playing with her fingers on her womb, coming closer to him with a quiet rustling of her gown. "– usually outside of our quarters you prefer it when I give you space – if you desire me to be close to you, I will –"
He felt the sudden wave of rage and grief that had surged through his body weaken, leaving him with a sense of sadness and emptiness.
He didn't want to ask or beg for such things, on the other hand, in fact, when he knew someone might see them, he preferred not to give anyone reason to comment on their behaviour.
He himself didn't know what he felt and needed, and he required her to understand him and his needs more than he did, he thought with shame.
Seeing how tense he was and hearing his silence she took a few steps towards him, standing so close that he felt her wonderful scent tease his nostrils, her delicate hand touched his chest and then was joined by another, his heart beating hard under her fingers.
He dared to look at her, and it was a mistake – her gaze was filled with a heat that both terrified him and brought him to the state where he felt like throwing himself at her, pulling her skirt up and taking her like a whore, wanting nothing more than to fill her with his seed.
"– may I kiss you, my Prince? –" She asked in a trembling voice, being formal at the same time, afraid to frustrate him, not knowing what behaviour he expected of her.
He couldn't answer anything – his hands simply caught her suddenly at the waist and pulled her closer so that her body slammed against his, her sweet moan echoing in his throat as he sank into her fleshy, luscious lips with a sigh of relief.
He murmured as her fingers stroked his jaw and neck, and her lips responded tentatively to his caress, showering him with lazy, deep, loud kisses. He felt her whole body tremble as the tip of his tongue ran invitingly over her upper lip, her hands clenched on his shoulders as if she were struggling with herself.
Something between a groan and a murmur escaped his lips when he felt her slick tongue come out to meet his in a slow, wet lick.
He clasped his hands in her hair and on the material of her gown, pressing his completely hard erection against her stomach, ready to take her here, in this place, on the grass, under the sun.
However, as soon as he grabbed the ribbon tying her dress at the back, she pulled away from him and shook her head, breathing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion, her lips puffy and glistening from his caresses, her gaze filled with nothing but desire and lust.
"– no – please, lēkia – it's only three more days –" She muttered pleadingly, and he pressed his lips together, feeling rejected.
"– don't I even deserve the embrace of your arms? – to be able to snuggle against your breasts, to experience solace now that sleep does not find me at night? –" He almost wailed, filled with grief and frustration, thinking with shame that he had acted like a small child.
He saw her swallow hard, surprised, all red with shame at his words.
"– I'll let you – I'll let you touch and cuddle against my breasts – if you promise not to take me –" She mumbled, and he nodded, desperate.
She held out her hand to him, and he grasped it, moving behind her through the grass between the trees – he blinked, surprised, when she lay down under one of them in such a place that they were covered by shrubbery on all sides, and even if someone had passed that way, he would not have noticed their lying silhouettes.
"– come –" She whispered, reaching her hands into the back of her gown, loosening its entire structure so that it slid off her shoulders.
He knelt down in front of her, feeling the aggressive pounding of his heart and the painful pulsing of his manhood as his fingers slid the material even lower, finally exposing what he so desperately craved.
She moaned far too loudly when he leaned in suddenly and his lips clamped greedily around her hard nipple, beginning to suck, his other hand closing on her other breast, so wonderfully warm and soft under his fingers.
He sighed with delight and murmured as her familiar, safe arms cuddled him into her chest and he settled comfortably between her thighs.
"– I miss you –" He muttered like a little boy, releasing her nipple from his mouth with a quiet plop, feeling ashamed that he was letting her see his vulnerability – he nuzzled his cheek against her firm bosom, watching enthralled as his fingers squeezed and played with her other plump, lovely breast.
He closed his eyes as she leaned in and placed a tender, long kiss on the top of his head, stroking his hair and back with her hands.
"– I miss you too – try to sleep and rest, brother –" She whispered, and he snorted, shaking his head.
"– with this in my hands – I'd sooner die of tension than fall asleep –" He grunted, on the other hand pleased and fulfilled to feel her so intimately again, to be able to breathe for a moment and find the peace he so desperately needed.
Despite how confidently he said it, in the end the slow, gentle rhythm in which she stroked his body made his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and when he finally closed them, he fell into a peaceful, deep slumber amidst the rustling of trees and grass, enveloped by her wonderful scent.
They spent every afternoon like this until their wedding day.
On the day of their nuptials, he was tense – he feared an attack from Dragonstone just as much as that his brother would want to call it all off at the last moment.
Some part of him didn't believe that it could work out for them – that there was a future in which he could get what he wanted without making a sacrifice for it for once.
He had to pay for everything with blood.
He shuddered, startled, when, while his servants were helping him put on his emerald tunic, the door to his chamber opened and his mother stepped in.
"Leave us." He said coldly, and the boys bowed and left them alone.
The Dowager Queen approached him with an uncertain step, looking down at her hands, his heart pounded harder in hope, begging for her blessing and at least one tender look.
Her eyes finally lifted to his, and her hand touched his arm, stroking it in a gesture of comfort.
"I wish you, my son, to find with your future wife only the peace and understanding as I experienced at your late father's side." She said softly, and he swallowed hard, feeling discomfort in his stomach.
"You didn't love him. And I don't want my marriage to look like yours. Quite the opposite." He said coolly, pulling away from her, disappointed and dismayed that she was telling him what she thought she needed to say, rather than being honest with him.
Alicent sighed, as if his words and reaction caused her pain.
"We did not always agree, it is true. But our King was a good man, just as my son is." She said finally, and he grinned under his breath as he stood with his back to her, running his fingertips over the top of his table.
"If I remember correctly, he cut open the womb of his beloved wife while she was still alive. While I lost my eye, he cared more for the good name of his first-born daughter than for my suffering or your humiliation. I also know that he did not arouse your desire, for after Daeron's birth you spent each night in separate chambers." He said lightly as he walked over to the window, looking at the servants busying themselves, hanging ornaments and fresh flowers in the courtyard of the keep.
He wondered if his bride regretted her decision.
The thought that he would finally spend that evening sunk deep into her body filled him with fervent desire, and his mind drifted away from his mother and her attempts to salvage the image of his father in his mind.
"No one is perfect. Your father wasn't either. But I respected him and held deep affection for him." She replied finally, and he only hummed, losing the urge for her to give him anything.
Her tenderness, her warm word, her motherly gaze.
He was sick of begging on his knees for her to give him something that was real.
He had to create something like that himself with the woman he had snatched from the gods and made his own.
The tension in his muscles intensified as he stepped into the Great Sept and climbed up the stone steps to the top, standing next to the Septon – the sight of the crowd that had gathered in the temple and the knowledge that everyone's eyes were on him made him feel small and vulnerable.
What if he misspoke the words of his oath?
What if the cloak he had thrown over her shoulders slipped off?
What if she humiliated him in front of everyone, shouting in his face that she despised him?
He swallowed hard and looked to the side, feeling his heart pounding hard as cheers and loud conversations sounded outside the gates – he knew this meant her carriage had arrived and indeed, he saw his grandfather come out to meet her.
He felt his lips part involuntarily in disbelief as she and Otto walked into the temple – holding her hand in that of his grandfather's she walked with her head held high in a beautiful gown composed of blues and browns, from a distance he could see the sparkle of sapphire stones in her necklace and in her hair.
A sigh and pain squeezed his throat at the thought that, contrary to what he had thought, she had not taken on green, the colour of his faction, but his colour, blue, something only he could understand, her personal expression of affection and devotion, a wordless assurance of her fidelity and of what she desired.
He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, feeling himself tremble all over with nerves and excitement as she slowly climbed the steps to the top, standing at last before him, looking more beautiful than ever, all flushed with emotion.
He longed to touch her hand or her face, longed to feel the softness of her body, to speak the words of his vows with his nose nestled in her warm cheek.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Said the Septon loudly – he blinked and looked at him, snapped out of his reverie by the realisation that this was it.
He grunted, trying to remain calm, and turned away, nodding at his uncle, extending his hand to him.
It was only when he threw the cloak bearing his family crest over her shoulders that he understood why this tradition had been upheld for centuries – there was something about this protective gesture, of a husband surrounding his wife with a cloth to protect her from the cold and danger, while also being a symbol of the fact that now what would be would overshadow what was, and his house would become her home.
He swallowed hard, thinking with tenderness that they would now truly become a family.
Their shared lie before the eyes of the gods had become truth.
"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon said, and he held out his hand, doing his best not to show how much it was quivering.
He felt relief when she looked at him, when her fingers touched his skin, in her gaze at once terror and warmth, the certainty of a feeling he feared was merely a figment of his imagination, her way of subduing him.
And yet, he could see it exactly in the depths of her beautiful dark eyes.
He pressed his lips together as the priest wrapped their hands several times with a long, wide, bright ribbon, symbolically entwining their fates with each other for eternity.
Are they about to hear the dragon's roar, to learn that Daemon and Rhaenyra have seized the opportunity, their nuptials to burn King's Landing?
This, her by his side, her body and her gaze meant only for him for the rest of his days could not become true.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." The Septon said, and he swallowed with difficulty, feeling his lips dry with emotion.
They looked at each other before opening their mouths, the words leaving his throat seeming to come out of him without the participation of his will.
"Father,
Smith,
Warrior,
Mother,
Maiden,
Crone,
Stranger
I am hers | I am his
and she is mine | and he is mine
from this day, until the end of my days."
He stared at her dully, waiting for the ground to part, for him to hear screams or someone's defiance, for some guard to run into the Sept, shouting that they had been attacked.
But only silence answered him.
She was his wife.
This thought, the fact that in front of witnesses they had spoken aloud the words of this vow, that the whole Kingdom had heard and seen it with their own eyes, that neither his brother nor anyone else could undo what had happened anymore, made him cup her rosy cheek in his hand, leaning over her.
"With this kiss, I pledge my love." He whispered only to sink a moment later into the sweet wetness of her full lips, her innocent sigh of delight making his manhood throb softly in his breeches.
He broke the kiss and pulled away, looking closely at her beautiful, bright face – she blinked and smiled, so tenderly and sweetly that he felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards too, in something that was not a grimace but an expression of his genuine happiness.
They were married.
They returned to the Red Keep on horseback, upright and proud, surrounded by hundreds of guards – no one, however, thought to curse or attack them – his grandfather's trick had worked, and the food he had distributed to the smallfolk before their nuptials had made them shower them with flowers.
They did not look at each other during their journey, however, he felt her presence beside him and that was enough for him.
When they reached the courtyard of the Red Keep he jumped off his mount and approached her mare, dismissing the guard, extending his hands to her, wanting to help her get down on the ground. She welcomed his hands reaching out towards her with a sweet smile, leaning on his shoulders, jumping directly into his arms.
He managed to place a quick little kiss on her warm cheek from which she blushed, looking up at him happily, placing her hand on his.
They stepped into the Throne Room first, followed by all the guests. He remembered little of his grandfather's toast and the words of the Lords who, one by one, stood before their table, wishing them happiness and prosperity.
He merely nodded, stunned and tired, dreaming only of escaping with her to his chamber and sinking between her warm thighs.
He looked at her as he felt the fingers of her hand, extended towards him on the armrest, brush his in the air – he hummed under his breath and his knuckles ran over her soft skin in a gesture of reciprocation.
In keeping with his grandfather's desire, the servants tasted everything before it was served on their plates – still, when the wine was finally poured for him and his wife, he surprised her by taking her cup from her hand, taking the first sip from it.
It was sweet and tasted as usual, so he handed the goblet back to her – her look of affection and gratitude told him what she thought of what he had done and how she intended to reward him later.
He swallowed hard and took another sip of wine, this time from his own goblet, feeling that his erection was all swollen, throbbing with lust in his breeches.
He craved her so badly.
They all raised their gazes upwards when a guard stood in the doorway, a drop of cold sweat ran down his back at the thought that they had been attacked after all.
"King Aegon Targaryen, the Second of His Name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." He called out, and he and everyone around him froze.
Aegon stepped with difficulty, with one hand supporting himself on his staff, the other having thrown over the neck of Larys Strong, who was careful not to let his brother fall.
That fucking viper, he thought.
The burnt part of his brother's face was covered by the golden mask his father had worn towards the end of his life – their resemblance, their raked silhouette struck him so much that he simply sat and looked.
"– stand up – stand up, you fool –" Otto hissed and jerked him – he rose immediately from his seat, and with him his wife and all the others gathered.
His mother ran up to his brother, asking loudly how he could get out of bed while he was in such a state, whose idea it was to strain his weak body, but Aegon did not even look at her, his gaze fixed on him.
"Put a chair for His Grace right next to mine. My brother wishes to dine with us." He ordered loudly, feeling like he was a small child again, his heart pounding like mad with terror.
Aegon was brought to his seat by the guards – he himself held him down as he nearly fell over, panting heavily, pale and shivering all over from exertion. His brother exhaled loudly as he finally collapsed into his chair, and he and the rest of the room also took their seats.
"I have come to personally congratulate my brother and my cousin." Aegon said loudly, breathing hard, his words echoing through the chamber. "Though I must admit that their marriage comes as a surprise to me."
He stared dully at his plate, wanting to disappear, to melt into the ground, to not exist, feeling that his heart was about to leap out of his chest.
"However, the Kingdom cannot be left without an heir – I, because of my condition, will beget neither son nor daughter, so we must rely on my brother and his strong seed. I hope that on this night, I, as well as the rest of the court, will witness how the future Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms will be begotten." He said, lifting his wine cup – no one responded to his toast, but Aegon did not seem to mind – he drank the entire contents of it in a strangle.
That night, I, as well as the rest of the court, will witness how the future King of the Seven Kingdoms will be begotten.
"No." He hissed, their mother, trying to change his mind, took Aegon's hand in hers.
"My son, that's not appropriate, that's…"
"It is the King's command." His brother replied, not even looking at them – Otto leaned towards him from the other side, trying to intervene.
"Your Grace, I am not a supporter of this tradition myself – it is not conducive to neither marital intimacy nor the said begetting of offspring." He said, and Aegon laughed out loud.
"I don't care, you old fool."
Standing in his chamber in the company of his grandfather, Aegon, his friends, the would-be members of the Kingsguard, and the few Lords his brother had forced to watch this pathetic spectacle, he felt tears under his eyelids, even though his face was stony.
He had the impression that everything inside him froze while he looked towards the three-door screen, behind which Lysa was helping his wife undo her gown.
He thanked the gods that his mother left the chamber, unable to look at it.
He wondered whether, if he fell to his knees before his brother and begged him for forgiveness, he would take pity on them.
He shuddered, snapped out of his reverie, panicked and terrified when her beautiful, girlish figure clad only in a thin, snow-white nightgown came out from behind the screen, her long hair loose, her gaze fixed on him gentle and warm.
He swallowed hard as she reached her hand out to him, walking over to his bed – the sight of her not being as terrified as he was, of her not crying gave him strength – he moved towards her, and when he finally stood in front of her, she sidestepped him and walked over to the pillars of the bed, untying the curtains, pulling them all the way open so that they covered what was to happen behind them.
She wanted to give them a bit of privacy, he thought with gratitude.
"No. We must see that Prince Aemond has done his duty." Said Aegon, their grandfather, however, immediately protested.
"Looking at the bare bodies of someone other than one's spouse is a sin, Your Grace, and we will not be sanctioning such practices in this keep." He said in a voice cold and final, and his brother fell silent.
He felt some kind of relief when at last the silhouettes around them disappeared behind the cream curtains, indistinct and distant, seeming to him to be only a bad dream.
His wife, his hāedar approached him with an expression on her face as if she was ready for battle, and as soon as her hand brushed his jaw, his nose sunk into her warm, soft cheek, his arms embraced her at the waist, seeking refuge.
"Don't give him the satisfaction. Make it so you peak as soon as possible and don't worry about me. I've been wet for you for days and I'll take you inside me with ease." She whispered tenderly, and he felt his manhood pulsate hard, a pleasant shiver running along his spine, giving him hope.
She was on his side.
She had strength and courage when he lacked it.
His wife.
"Come." She whispered further, undoing his belt and the fastenings of his tunic with quiet clicks, while he pulled at the ties of her nightgown in one gentle motion, loosening the whole material, which slipped from her shoulders.
In some natural, affectionate reflex, they began to kiss – her puffy lips were wonderfully sweet and familiar, warm and moist, her saliva melting on his tongue.
He felt a pleasant warmth in his heart and the fact that his erection grew hard at the sight of her naked body, reminding himself of the tension he had felt for days.
He thought that by the fact that it had been so long since he had experienced fulfilment, a few sure thrusts deep into her warm flesh should allow him to do his duty and end it.
He was comforted by this and by the tenderness of her hands, by the way her fingers stroked his hair and neck, pulling off his tunic, his shirt and his breeches, allowing them both to finally remain completely bare.
As she lay on the bed on her back and gave him one, comforting, sweet smile, reaching out her hand to him, he just lay on top of her, looking at her face for a moment, their hands stroking their cheeks tenderly.
"– forgive me –" He whispered in trembling voice, wanting her to know that he was furious that they'd been forced into this, that like her he'd imagined it completely different, that as much as he'd wanted this, he hadn't been able to protect them.
He was afraid that if he resisted his brother, he would take revenge on him, or worse, on her.
"– shhh – put it inside me – make me whole again –" She gasped softly and they both sighed as she spread her thighs in front of him, her hand gently grasping his throbbing erection, directing it to her small slit.
They kissed tenderly, their naked bodies pressed against each other as he slid between her dripping walls with a soft, slow push of his hips – her cunt, true to her word was wonderfully wet and warm, offering him no resistance.
The thought that even if he didn't give her fulfilment, he wouldn't cause her pain either was comforting to him.
He thought he would make it all up to her later.
She moaned softly as he nestled his face against her cheek and began to thrust into her fleshy, throbbing core, the quiet slapping of their naked bodies against each other, her familiar arms, her wonderful scent, her sweet sounds made a pleasant wave of heat surge through his loins, making him completely hard.
He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking only of how long he had waited for this, imagining that he had taken her in the royal gardens on the grass, that she had been unable to resist him despite her determination.
"– hāedar –" He gasped as he felt her fingers clench tighter on his back, sliding down to his buttocks, her hips rolling in response to his increasingly aggressive stabs, her whimpers vulnerable and filled with pleasure as he hit her sweet spot again and again.
"– yes – yes, lēkia, right here –" She mumbled softly into his ear, and he restrained himself with difficulty not to moan, chasing his peak with the loud clicks of her little cunt.
He was so, so close, he thought with relief.
"– woof, woof – what's that supposed to mean? – I was hoping you'd demonstrate to us how the hound fucks –" He heard his brother's amused voice and froze, feeling his whole body tense up, the pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen turned into a cool wave of humiliation that ran along his back.
"– Your Grace – it's not dignified –" He heard the frustrated voice of their grandfather on the other side.
He felt himself begin to quiver, his lips parted in horror as he felt his erection become half-hard again, unsure what to do, hot tears of despair and shame gathered under his eyelids.
He sighed as he felt her hands simply press his face into the crook of her neck, giving him shelter, her lips placing warm, gentle kisses on his head, her fingers combing through his hair.
He just wanted to fall asleep in her embrace and never wake up again.
"– I'm just worried about my cousin and whether she'll experience pleasure – both she and I know how selfish my brother is – what he's capable of doing to get what he wants –" Aegon said, making heavy, burning tears run down his cheeks one by one, his eyebrows arching in pain as her arms hugged him tighter to her body, wanting to protect him from what was happening.
"– do you trust me? –" She asked so quietly that only he was able to hear her.
He swallowed hard, choking on his own tears, trying not to make a sound.
Did he trust her?
He wished he did.
He nodded and felt her arms push him away, as if she was trying to force him to change position, finally turning him onto his back, sitting on top of him with his soft manhood inside her – she leaned over him, pressing her palms to the sides of his face as if she just wanted to cup his cheeks, while doing it so hard that he stopped hearing anything.
His heart pounded harder when he heard his brother's voice again, but as if from afar, unable to understand the words he had spoken – his wife kissed his forehead and then brushed her lips gently against his, lazily rolling her hips back and forth, teasing him.
His hands rose to her body, to her back, her waist and her hair, stroking her bare skin as if it were something delicate and precious, her sweet breasts pressed against his torso.
Her insides were wonderfully warm, her lips moist and full, her gaze tenderly fixed on his – her thumbs stroked his cheeks, but her hands stayed in the same position, keeping him from listening to what was happening around them.
A pleasant shiver ran down his spine again as the tip of her slick tongue slid invitingly between his lips, licking him in a way from which his cock pulsed aggressively inside her.
She moaned, feeling it, rocking her hips with quiet clicks of her moisture – he bent his legs at the knees, responding to her movements with tentative thrusts, feeling her walls growing tighter again, a quiet sigh escaped his throat as his hands clamped down on her firm breasts.
"– yes – yes, just like that, my sweet husband –" He heard her voice, her face pressed against his neck as her spine curved into the letter s, allowing him to admire the shape of her plump buttocks.
He clamped his hands on them, imposing a fast, rough pace on her, panting hard, trying not to think or be, only to take what was familiar and desired, what he had waited so long for.
He pulled himself up and sat down, wanting to feel her from a different angle, and she put her arms around his head, again covering his ears – he heard them both moan loudly as he began to thrust into her anew, his face snuggled between her beloved, soft breasts, making him feel at home.
"– Aemond – ah, g-gods, yes, yes, yes –" He heard her whimper, her thirsty, leaking cunt soaking him completely every time he slammed into her again and again, opening her violently on the fattest part of his cock, all throbbing with pain.
He was wonderfully close, he knew that – he looked at her, at her beautiful, sweet face, and she kissed him so tenderly and softly that tears ran down his cheeks – he felt the familiar tightness in his stones and breathed a sigh of relief as, with his groan of pleasure, his seed finally spilled inside her, her fleshy walls giving him a few more squeezes, sucking his spend deep inside her.
He heard her breathe a sigh of relief as she placed small, soft kisses on his hair, as if to tell him wordlessly that she was proud of him.
As her hands stroked his head and back, he heard someone's slow footsteps and hisses of pain – he exhaled loudly as the door to his chamber opened and those gathered began to leave.
And then there was silence.
"– are we alone? –" He muttered at last and felt her kiss the top of his head, cuddling him into her body.
"– yes, my love –" She whispered and wanted to say something else, but she didn't, because he burst out in a loud, childish sob.
He snuggled into her, choking on his own tears, feeling them flow and flow and flow, unable to stop it – he heard her hush him tenderly, pressing his face between her breasts, hearing how much he was suffering, how humiliated and weak he felt.
"– shhh – I know – you were so brave –" She whispered, and he wept loudly, thinking that he wasn't a man, that surely she herself would now look at him with pity.
"– forgive me –" He mumbled wearily, and in response her lips kissed his forehead, sweaty from exertion and stress.
"– I have nothing to forgive you for – the King put us in an impossible position, we couldn't behave any other way – your task was much more difficult – a woman can just lie down and wait it out, but it is the man who must desire her despite what is happening around him – Aegon wanted to humiliate you but he failed – calm down, brother, breathe – there is nothing more he can do to us –" She said and he just listened to her, panting hard, needing her words, her reassurances like air.
"– he did it again – mocked me again –" He blurted out with difficulty.
"– he heard that what you were doing to me gave me pleasure, and that's why he said all those awful things – he is jealous, brother, because he knows that no woman will ever desire him again – that it is your children who will sit on the Iron Throne –" She said tenderly and he swallowed hard.
"– ours –" He corrected her and heard her smile, stroking his head tenderly.
"– ours –" She hummed and he nestled closer to her, brushing her bare back with his fingers, his soft erection still deep inside her.
He didn't want to slid it out of her yet, because he felt safe in her warm, fleshy body.
"– I ruined our wedding night – I didn't give you fulfillment –" He whispered, and she shook her head.
"– we both know that our wedding night was the night before you flew out to Rook's Rest – that's when I lost my maidenhood and became yours – my fulfillment can wait, just as you patiently waited for me for many days –" She said softly, and for some reason he felt relief.
He sniffed with his nose and let her go when he felt her wanting to get up from his lap, gently sliding his warm, soft manhood out of her – he immediately turned away from her and lay on his side, curling up so that he lifted his knees almost under his chin, embracing his legs with his arms.
He was not a man or a lover, he was nobody, he thought, whooping with tears again, unable to calm down.
Woof, woof.
He pressed his lips together when he felt her soft body lay behind him, her breasts pressed against his back, her arms embracing his waist, stroking his musclar stomach – he closed his eyes as her mouth placed a moist, loud kiss on the back of his head.
"– iksan kesīr, valzȳrys (I'm here, husband) – aōha ābrazȳrys iksis ondoso aōha paktot (your wife is by your side) –" She whispered, and he exaled, gently taking her hands in his, entwining their fingers together.
He swallowed hard when he heard her open her mouth, her fingertips stroking his skin soothingly.
Sleep my baby on my bosom
Warm and cozy will it prove
Round thee mother’s arms are folding
In her heart a mother’s love
There shall no one come to harm thee
Naught shall ever break thy rest
Sleep my darling babe in quiet
Sleep on mother’s gentle breast.
He felt that this time it was a tears of emotion that ran down his hot cheeks – his chest was rising and falling in heavy breaths, hearing how warm and melodious her voice was.
He wasn't sure if his mother had ever sung lullabies to him, but the fact that she did it now to soothe and comfort him, made a wonderful, warm feeling spread through his heart.
He swallowed hard as silence fell around them – his thumb brushed the soft skin of her hand, only three pleading words leaving his mouth.
"Sing some more."
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ᝰ.ᐟ 🎞️ — K.MG ; ! feels
nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ smut, fluff, angst] ꩜ | requested.
“ when your best friend isn’t too happy with you going on a date with one of your mutual friend, what will happen? will he reveal some trapped feelings that was kept in for a long time? ”
there you were touching that last touches for your make-up for your so called date, you’ve been aching for so long to date but your idiotic of a best friend won’t get the hint that you had a big chunk of feelings for him, every time you had the courage to tell him n all the tingly feelings he made you feel, your heart crushed why? because he was with a new girl every. single. time.
you were tired of waiting yes, your feelings are still here but you need to make a change & go in the dating game for once, everyone needs a fresh change don’t they?.
you wore a nice tiger print top with a matching skirt it was so simple yet so chic!, finally adding the final touches as your phone rang.
cheol is calling! . . .
“hello?” you spoke up first, “yes hello, y/n!! I’m just telling you I’m outside of your place” he replied so sweetly, you smiled at that then reassuring you’ll be down in a few.
after finally settling down in the nice environment of a classy restaurant nearby you & cheol chatted the night away with dinner then some glasses of wine.
at the admit of laughing your phone buzzed uncontrollably with a ton of messages.
mins 🩰 / where are you
mins 🩰 / are you with a guy?!
mins 🩰 / I fuckin knew you were with cheol
mins 🩰 / tell me where you are.
20 more messages . . .
shocked.. that’s what you were, you’ve never seen being so tense like this, it upset him being with another man specifically cheol.
choosing to ignore him was the best idea, you were visibly upset by that, cheol noticed “are you okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows in worry “ah such a gentleman always looking for my comfort, I’m okay seungcheollie don’t worry” you giggled going back to your previous conversation.
but mingyu didn’t stop texting you, your phone was actually about to blow up by this point.
so you finally put it on do not disturb, trying to actually enjoy the night with seungcheol & not making it all about your now quite annoyed best-friend.
“you know if I’m interrupting something, we could totally, do this another time” he spoke up again softly then giving you a short smile “I insist it’s fine if it’s something important I would tell you” you returned the smile, flying your little mind into a sea of thoughts, “it’s mingyu? isn’t it.” he sighed then chuckled “wha-?” you were surprised by his sudden sentence.
“he’s crazy about you, you know your the only thing he talks about” he continued “I know it’s wrong that I asked you on this date, but I wanted to to give this a shot” he held your hand then “please this is all jokes, if he liked me he would’ve told me instead of fucking around” you scoffed.
“mingyus an idiot, y/n he doesn’t think it through he just does stuff, trust me your the one for him, & by the texts you got I’m totally sure.” he smiled, his cute dimples appearing once again “like I said you don’t have to totally understand my feelings, I just wanted this for fun no worries” “but cheol-“ you tried to speak “he’s waiting for you, go get him y/n-ah trust me” he pulled you out of the restaurant obviously driving you to your place.
“your being way too nice about this you know” you let out an awkward giggle “im tired of seeing my dumb idiot friends making the same mistake again & again, just get to it already”.
the frame of your house starting to show as you rode with seungcheol, the ride was quite but comfortable, you smiled at the fact that seungcheol understood you almost immediately, there was no doubt that seungcheol wasn’t a gentleman & perfect for any girl but… you heart aches for the one & only kim mingyu.
stepping into the warmth of your housing unit, you slouched on your couch.
taking your phone in your hand you stared at the screen, not knowing what to do in this moment.
like a prayer that has been called, suddenly your phone rang.
mins 🩰 is calling ! . . .
you tilted your head for a bit feeling nervous but eventually picked up the phone.
“where are you? why aren’t you answering me!, do you know how worried sick I’ve been!” he went on, on you almost yelling in some kind of way.
“fuck off, kim what do you want?” you scoffed, yes you were gonna confess you’re bottled up feelings but you weren’t gonna make it that easy.
“just answer me, were you with seungcheol?” he got straight to the point.
“yes, why does that concern you” you sneered
“I fuckin knew it!” he sighed in defeat.
“I knew he was gonna do this to rile me up fuck” he continued.
“why do you care, if he asked me or not mingyu im telling you right now!” you suddenly snapped “like you fuckin’ care who I date or not, you’re always fucking some girl every single day” your voice started to crack “I’ve always kept my mouth shut, so why do you get all cranky when I just have one date.” tears threatened or you may say fell down your face.
“I- look.. y/n just please let me explain I’m begging you, I’ll come to yours please give me patience.” his voice softened.
you just cut the call, getting overwhelmed by him or this whole situation.
after long silence the door bell rang.
but you expected it, it was mingyu after all you were always gonna welcome him with open arms.
you just prayed this is going to go well.
opening the door, he hugged you but not just any hug, he gave you a genuine one, a long one you would consider it a physical apology but you were aching for the verbal one not able to hold the pain of him not being yours anymore.
you both sat on the couch, you played with your fingers nervously, as you expected words to come out of him.
not being able to hold it anymore you were gonna say something but he spoke up first.
“look, y/n, I know I’ve done some fucked up things like fucking around, and I can’t justify it in anyway I just didn’t know how to tell you that I liked no loved you, I just thought going around with girls is gonna make it go away, because I know I can’t treat you the best, I mean look at me.” he ruffled through his hair then held your hand.
“but… but seeing you with seungcheol, it did something to me, I couldn’t bear to think about thought about you being with another man, you could say I got jealous, & I know what your thinking that you felt the same & I’m truly sorry y/n, I could do anything to make it up to you, even if it takes for the rest of my life” he sniffed, you looked up at his face & he was crying, it broke something inside of you.
“min, even if i forgave you, the pain of you going out with girls & doing whatever god knows what, it doesn’t go away it’ll be here, why couldn’t you tell me min why?, hell everybody else knows I loved you since we were in high school why couldn’t you reciprocate my feelings & told me, we couldn’t dodged all that pain, but you chose to hurt me” you bit your lip.
“i-i know , I just didn’t think it through i was scared of the responsibilities that came with being with you, i got scared that i could hurt you” “but you did, mingyu.” you cut him.
“I’m so sorry. so sorry y/n if i could go back in time I would’ve fixed what I did wrong trust me, but I wanna try this, I wanna try us but only if you want to, I could go out this door in this second if you don’t want to.” he kissed your hands looking up at you.
“min… I wanna try us too, but what if you hurt me again? I don’t want to lose you anymore I don’t want to drift apart” you sobbed.
“I promise you, y/n I promise I’ll try not to hurt you again, I’ll never do this mistake again, I’m not gonna be the idiot that I was” he kissed your forehead reassuringly.
“just please give me this chance i beg you.”
silence. he was met by silence fear striking through him.
he was about to move away then suddenly…
your lips met his in away you’ve never or he felt before it was radiating with love, passion you’ve both hungered for each other & you were definitely going to treasure this moment.
his hands almost instantly came in contact with your waist pulling you closer to him as your hands went to the nape of his neck, indulging each other.
“min.. please I need you” you spoke up in need of him.
him knowing exactly what you wanted, carried you to the comfort of your bedroom, he layed you on the soft mattress.
he took of all of the fabrics that covered you, displaying your nude beauty infront of him.
he kissed every inch of you admiring you one by one, not neglecting in any part of you.
closing by your aroused core, you looked at his eyes full with love & lust, he smirked.
then kissed your cunt, with tongue he licked through your folds till eventually fucking your hole with his tongue, your thighs trembling simply by the warmth of his tongue.
the series of ohs & ahs that uttered from your mouth felt like a melody to his ear, encouraging to ravage on your sweet cunt, feeling the closeness of your high, your moans got louder, which gave mingyu the hint.
that’s why he stopped.
“minn!” you whined, pouting, “gonna make you cum on my cock first, my darling” he whispered in your ear, then kissed it.
taking off his clothes, his big cock appeared which was absolutely beautiful, in all its glory, you had doubts about it not fitting, but you didn’t care, you wanted him in you asap.
he lined his member to the entrance of your womanhood, inch by inch he slid into you, which made you scream by how pleasuring this was, “fuck fuck fuuck m-min s’big” you bit your lip, closing your eyes enjoying every bit of him.
he fasted up his pace, holding your hands firmly yes so lovingly for support, uttering “I love yous” with skin slapping, moans, groans whatever lewd sounds was filled through the walls.
“min min im gonna im-“ you came.
hot spurs of cum dripped out of you filling the outer of his cock & the inside of your walls.
“god you’re so gorgeous like this.” he groaned out, going all out till his balls hit your cunt, chasing his high he was determined to fill your walls.
a few more thrust till he came moaning out a bunch of curse words, his cum filling you up, but you were on cloud 9 when his hot cum filled you covering & warming your walls.
he pulled out, cuddling you instantly, taking the covers of your bed to warm your naked bodies, hugging each other not wanting to end this moment, you both felt at peace knowing you were finally his & he was finally yours.
! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! woo toxic best friends to lovers 🫢
#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen scenarios#svt smut#mingyu smut#mingyu fluff#mingyu x y/n#mingyu x you#mingyu x reader#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#mingyu
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Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)
And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.
Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.
Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)
However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).
So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"
Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??
(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)
Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.
(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)
So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.
(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)
So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)
When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)
The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)
#hazbin hotel#radioapple#alastor#lucifer morningstar#duckiedeer#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#fic#mine#long post#Alastor seeing someone else making fun of Lucifer: how DARE you thats MY job and youre not even DOING IT RIGHT get out of my hotel now
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nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3
landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.
you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.
upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?
he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”
you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”
and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.
some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.
sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.
sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.
he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”
and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”
“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.
things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”
he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”
hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.
its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.
you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.
“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”
for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”
“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”
“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”
“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”
with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”
“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”
you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.
there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”
“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”
“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”
“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”
and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.
#captain john price x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#john price smut#john price imagine#captain john price smut#cod smut#cod imagine#gator.writing#like i said SELF INDULGENTTTT#also super messy bc i just needed to get these thoughts out of my head
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My heart hurts so bad for Aziraphale because I can honestly just relate to him so, so, so much.
(not putting this one under a cut so warning season 2 ahead, I'll tag it at the bottom too)
Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever," but I don't believe for a second he doesn't wish that it did.
He WANTS things to go back to how they used to be. He WANTS the seraphic Crowley squealing with joy as he cranks up the universal machine and sets the stars aflame. He WANTS there to be no sides, he WANTS to believe in the idea of the host united, he WANTS to go back before Crowley got himself in trouble by asking questions. He wants, I think, to be in that moment of creation and adoration forever.
Change seems to frighten him. There's an aspect of uncertainty. There's an element of chaos, the loss of control. I understand this deeply. And what the Metatron offered him was just that: certainty, control, the ability to dictate his own narrative.
I used to be in a toxic job. On top of it, I had intense anxiety and other undiagnosed neurodivergencies that made it even harder to fit in and understand the untold rules I was supposed to follow to get along. When I first got there, it wasn't so bad -- perhaps I was, like Aziraphale, also a bit idealistic. Then there were some changes that brought instability, significant more anxiety, and a lot of nights spent agonizing over my lack of control over it all.
My friends and significant other tried to convince me to leave, but I didn't want to. I didn't know what else was out there. I didn't know if it would be worse. I didn't know what kind of stability it would have.
Then my manager left, so that spot opened up. I had worked there for a long time, and honestly, I never saw myself going into management. I didn't think I could. I wasn't sure I even wanted to. All of that extra stress, on me? Not to mention, getting FURTHER into the job that was taking a massive toll on me? But then...
Then I would have control. Then I could run things the way *I* had always thought they should run. I wouldn't need to worry about who would replace my manager and whether my life would be a living hell -- I would make it what I wanted it to be. Upper management was really pushing for it, so I applied.
To make a long story short: I don't think it went very well. I didn't have the support I needed. I didn't have the emotional skills I needed. I think I did my best, but I'm not fond of those times. At the time, I was SURE that I wanted to move up even more, I was SURE this would make it all better. I thought this was what I REALLY wanted.
But that's not what I needed. What I needed was to get out, and eventually I did. Even as ready as I was to leave, it was absolutely agonizing. I could barely stand to handle the unknown. I was going to work together with my spouse, actually, and I was so excited for that, but I still... I still was upset and worried sick over the dramatic change that would befall my life, after I had made the decision to leave.
That's where I can relate to Aziraphale. I wonder what would've happened if, before I had actually left for good, the head honchos had come up to me and said, "We want to keep you -- how about we offer you (an even higher position)?" -- would I have said no, or would I have wanted to make a difference?
Funny, I said exactly that, too. That's almost why I didn't change jobs in the first place. I said, "But I feel like I'm really making a difference with what I'm doing now." But what pushed me over the edge was realizing that none of that mattered to them, it was all about THEIR control of ME, not the other way around.
I'm so intensely curious to see what happens with Aziraphale next, but I'm sure he will learn what Crowley understands: nothing lasts forever, and sometimes it's good that it doesn't -- even if sometimes we wish it did.
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I saw in your baby death au story explanation that Harry can't sleep alone unless he has the doors open (correct me if I'm wrong). If I'm correct, does that mean Voldemort and Harry sleep in the same bed sometimes? And if not, how did Voldmort notice the specifics something like that?
Ah, good question!
He can sleep alone, but not very well (the door being open helps a bit but overall he just needs someone there with him). Even when he got his own room at the Dursley's, he had Hedwig to keep him company.
And like I said, there's no 'sleeping' together for quite a while, so how DID Voldemort notice?
The short answer:
They live in the same house (an agreement that was reached by the two of them, more for convenience sake, as they raise Thomas) so it would be odd if Voldemort hadn't noticed it eventually.
The long answer:
During the first two or three years of living under the same roof, Harry never slept anywhere besides the nursey. At first, Voldemort chalked it up as some sort of paternal instinct to protect Thomas. (most likely from Voldemort himself) However, while retiring to his own chambers in the evening, he always found it curious that Harry would leave the door slightly cracked.
'Would it not make more sense to have the door closed?,' he thought, 'The sound of it opening would surely be enough to wake him if someone were to enter the room...'
He shook his head, 'Perhaps the boy was clever enough to cast the appropriate spells to do so instead.'
He tested this theory once by walking into the room late one night and standing directly by the crib. Annoyingly, Harry never did stir from his slumber on the chaise lounge he had claimed in lieu of an actual bed. Both him and the baby remained fast asleep, completely unaware of the powerful wizard looming in the darkness so close by.
Voldemort honestly didn't know whether to be insulted (as he was clearly not viewed as a threat) or disappointed in the fact that there were, indeed, no protection or alarm spells in the room.
A problem he quickly remedied himself for the sake of the spawn's well-being, as it appears his 'Ma' would not be roused if an intruder were to somehow break past the home's already impressive wards.
And so Harry continued to sleep in the same room as his son, with the door slightly ajar, until Thomas was old enough to have his own bed.
This is when Voldemort began to notice that Harry did not take well to sleeping alone at night.
He would often find the 'boy-who-lived' looking quite dead on his feet, with heavy bags under his eyes, constantly drifting in and out of conversations.
After a good two or so weeks of this, Voldemort had finally had enough and decided to confronted him. Unsurprisingly, he was quickly brushed off, and the subject was changed almost immediately. No matter how many times he tried, he was always met with the same sort of response.
'Why do you even care?'
'Yes, I'm getting enough sleep. Stop asking, it's weird.'
'So what if I get nightmares, your probably the cause of most of them anyway!'
'I'm fine! Don't you have an animal or person or-or something to go torture other than me? Just-...just leave me alone...'
Needless to say, this was getting him no where and apart from drugging the boy with a sleeping draught every night, Voldemort was almost at his wits end.
That was unit one morning Harry came down from his room for breakfast looking fairly well-rested with a chipper-than-normal attitude.
Voldemort was puzzled.
What had changed? Did he just have one good night without anything haunting his dreams? Surely that was bound to happen at some point, but it was unlikely to be a regular occurrence.
However, weeks ticked by and Harry's eyes seemed brighter and his mood rapidly began to improve. He even started to engage in somewhat pleasant small talk when the two found themselves alone for more then five minutes at a time.
It was all very welcome and highly suspicious.
So, being the curious man that he was, Voldemort decided it was once again time to lurk about in the middle of the night for the cause of this sudden change in behavior.
And what he found, as he stood in the threshold of Harry's room, took him by surprise.
There, on the plush four poster bed coiled up next to his sleeping prophesized enemy, was Nagini.
Sensing his presence, she raised her large head to regard her master, who remained fixed in the doorway.
'Master's mate was in dire need of comfort. Nagini has decided she will be the one to provide it.'
Voldemort did not correct her, too busy trying to determine what exactly he was feeling in that moment to give her a proper response.
'...He is also very warm and a far better cuddler than master.'
That snapped him out of his thoughts long enough for him to huff out a quick, 'Don't be rude, Nagini.' To which she replied with a series of hisses that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
He sighed, and foolishly hoped she didn't notice the darkening of his cheeks.
'Very well, you may continue to provide...comfort. Thank you, my Nagini.'
She nodded once and went back to resting her head next to Harry's on his pillow.
He stayed in the doorway a while longer, observing the last two pieces of his soul huddled close to one another, before finally turning to walk silently back to his own room.
--
Nagini: you suck at cuddling and you're a terrible mate.
Voldemort:
--
Thanks for the ask, anon! ❤️
#and i apologize btw#im not a writer so i really hope this stream of unedited consciousness makes sense#baby death au#harrymort#ask
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Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏
Chapter 1 of That's What You Get
Next Chapter
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨
Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.
You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.
“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.
“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.
“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”
“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”
“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”
“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.
“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.
The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.
“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.
“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.
“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.
“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.
You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.
“Mom, hey, what’s up?”
“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.
“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”
“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.
“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.
“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”
“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.
“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”
You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.
“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”
“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.
“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.
“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”
“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”
“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.
“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”
“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.
In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.
Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.
“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.
“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.
“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.
“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”
“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”
“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
–x–
Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.
“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.
“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.
“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”
“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.
“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”
“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.
“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”
“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.
“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”
You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.
So because it was him, you decided to talk.
“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.
“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued
“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.
“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”
“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.
“How come?”
“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.
“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”
“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”
“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.
“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”
“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”
“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”
“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.
“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.
“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.
“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”
“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”
“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”
“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”
“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”
With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.
–X–
The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.
Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.
That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.
Fuck.
There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.
There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.
Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.
“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.
“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”
That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.
“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.
“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.
“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.
“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.
Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.
“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.
“Y/N I think we got married last night.”
For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.
“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.
Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.
Your husband.
You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.
“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.
“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.
“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.
“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.
But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.
“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.
“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.
“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.
“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”
“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.
“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”
He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”
Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.
“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.
“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”
“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.
🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#maturereiding#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid series#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#Criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid drabble#matthew gray gubler
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making my first emily request, not read much of it yet bc i'm worried about spoilers and i'm only on season 4 (tbf have fucking blasted through it so far, watching multiple eps a day).
emily/reader, reader is hotch's little sister who isn't part of the bau but works with them occasionally. hotch Does Not Know about her and em. unclear if he even knows she's gay. any other details of it are up to you bestie, i trust you 💚
Segreto Piccolo
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Word Count: 1336
Warning: I think none?
Summary: Emily and you had been dating for a few months and now you're brother had found out (set around season 3 or 4)
A/n: OK, so this is the first time I've ever written for Em. I hope it's okay? Hope it's not too ooc. Would be delighted by a comment or repost!!! <3
■----------------------------------------■
“Come on, babe. He won’t rip your head off.” You nearly whined and gave Emily the best puppy eyes you could manage. You’d been dating her for a few months now, it was all still very fresh, but you really liked her. A lot.
Your brother, Aaron Hotchner, was the Unit Chief of the BAU and sometimes brought you in for cases. You worked as a children’s psychiatrist and had turned out to be very helpful on cases involving children. In any form, as victims, as witnesses and as UnSubs. On one of those cases, you had met Emily Prentiss. Truth be told, she had caught your eye immediately, but it had taken you three more cases to actually ask her out. She was amazing, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. She was smart and quick-witted, an amazing Profiler, adorable with kids and really funny. And after you had started dating you had learned that she loved with all she had. And it was wonderful.
Except for one thing. She was afraid of telling your brother. Emily hadn’t been on the team for long, and now she hooked up with his baby sister? He’d kill her. Or at least that’s what she assumed. She didn’t know Aaron like you did. He could be stoic and serious at work, but he was a sweetheart and a wonderful brother. He loved you and all he wanted was you to be happy. He might need some time adjusting, but he could never be mad for long.
“He’ll kill me, Tesoro. He’s only just warmed up to me.” She grumbled and you knew that was true. Her start on the team had been a bit bumpy. The whole situation was ridiculous. The two of you were cramped in about the smallest room in the whole building. A little storage room. You could feel some sort of utensils press into your spine, and you saw a box of pencils just over Emily’s shoulder. All in all, ridiculous to talk about something like this, at work, while hiding.
“No, he will not, Emily.” You pressed on, your hand still on her hip. Truthfully it didn’t really have anywhere else to go in this cramped space. “It might shock him a bit, but he’ll come around. Please, Em. You know how important Aaron is to me. I want him to know.” You explained what you had explained at least five times before and again gave her puppy dog eyes she rarely could refuse.
You could see her melt under your gaze and just as she wanted to answer the door to the small room opened, and you were faced with your brother’s usual serious expression. His expression didn’t change much, but you could see a subtle twitch of his eyes. His eyes wandered from you to Emily and back to you again. “Office. Both, now.” And he was gone. Emily groaned and closed her eyes.
“It’ll be fine, Em.” You tried to reassure her. You knew he’d probably be more disappointed than anything, cause you hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know you liked women. Emily let her head fall against your shoulder. “We had a nice few months, dolcezza. But I think I’m walking into my own death now.” She really had a hang for drama. Playfully you slapped her shoulder and chuckled.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, babe.” You said and took her hand to lead her into your brother's office. No point in hiding it now. Besides, you had the suspicion that Penelope had known right from the start and that meant that at least Derek knew as well. And JJ was perceptive, Spencer on the other hand not so much for a Profiler. But what does it matter?
You led Emily through the bullpen and up the few steps right to Aaron’s office door. It was open, and your brother was already looking at you. No need to knock, you thought. You simply stepped inside, Emily practically needing to be dragged in there behind you. You motioned her to close the door and very reluctantly she let go of your hand to do so.
Aaron got up and rounded his desk, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets. His features softened visibly. The way they did at work only if you were around. Or if Jack came to visit. “Why didn’t you tell me you like women?” He asked, and you saw a hint of surprise on Emily’s face in the corner of your eye. She didn’t know that he didn’t know. But contrary to what she probably believed now it hadn’t been because you were scared to come out or anything. You simply shrugged.
“I thought I’d tell you if I’ll ever get a girlfriend and then I kind of never did.” You said and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “But now I do.” You said and smiled proudly, which warmed Emily’s heart immediately and calmed her immensely. Aaron even cracked a very small smile. Then he looked at Emily at the small vanished. You grabbed Em’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
“You’ve been here little more than a year and start dating my sister, Prentiss?” He said and studied Emily. You could say he was profiling her. Emily opened her mouth, no doubt to defend herself. But Aaron gave her not a second. “Remember, I’m your superior. Hurt her, and you’ll fly off this team faster than you can blink.” You had to hide a small giggle. Aaron rarely played protective brother. It was a bit funny to see almost all colour fade from Emily’s face. She interrogated Serial Killers, but your brother was too much.
“Alright, Aaron. Enough of that.” You said and drew his attention back to you. He softened a bit again and pulled you into a rare hug. No words. Just a hug. And that was enough. Then he rounded his desk and sat down again.
“You're invited for dinner on Saturday.” He said right before you were out of his office. It nearly looked comedic, the way everything in Emily’s face fell as soon as she heard him. You quickly closed the office door behind you and grabbed her hands.
Emily wasn’t the relationship type. She hadn’t had a lot of them, and they had never been very long. Or at least that’s what she had told you. She was always afraid of somehow fucking it up. You squeezed her hands until she was looking at you.
“It’ll be fine. He didn’t rip your head off now, he won’t on Saturday. And Jack will love you, which is basically the way to Aaron’s heart.” It did little to calm the brunette. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.
“What do I wear? How do I act? Do I buy him something? Wine? I’ve never done this before, dolcezza.” She rambled, and it would have been cute if she hadn’t looked so worked up.
“You’ll wear something nice. Which you always do. I promise Aaron will just be wearing a T-shirt. You act like yourself which is the way I love you. And wine is a good idea but absolutely not necessary.” You assured her, answering one question after another. You had been so concerned about calming her that you hadn’t really thought about the exact words you had used.
“Love?” She asked a bit perplexed. Maybe it was a bit early but with Emily? How could you not love her. You grinned a bit stupidly. “Of course, you idiot.” She cracked a smile at that, and you were very thankful for that. You’d walk through hell to see that smile.
“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro.” She whispered against your lips, having leaned in. The kiss was a bit sloppy, cause you were both smiling like lovesick idiots. Which you kind of were.
“Oh my god, this is adorable!” A very excited voice called through the bullpen, unmistakably Penelope’s. Emily and you broke apart, laughing softly. You stood incredibly close to each other, hands still intertwined. Both your head turned, and you weren’t surprised to see the whole team stare at you. Most of them just smiled knowingly. Spencer looked like he had missed about twenty chapters, which her kind of had. His head turned from us to JJ next him.
“Wha-?” Everyone just laughed fondly. Everything was fine.
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warframe is so weird because
You are always running into a thing you haven't tried out yet
"The sprimblaya is soo op! Its super boring to use, has a 10 minute reload time and stuns everyone in a 5 mile radius whenever i use it but damage number big so its meta"
"The three letters on this coaster have extreme lore implications"
Running into a glitch while in a squad and apologizing to each other about it
"look at my cool stalker fashionframe, I think it looks really cool" (it's just pitch black and violently saturated red)
Some random guy in region chat complaining about how he can't say words anymore, he will also use Grendel as shorthand for fat shaming seemingly unaware of what he's doing
Certain warframes/builds that can just completely change the game (Grendel, Speedva, Titania, Yareli, Zephyr)
Solaris United rank 5
Someone living out their entire game in character as their operator oc, making social media posts in character, extremely dedicated to saying everything in character. Their fashion also usually looks like a skyrim mod (sometimes they do it in third person and speak about their operator like it's their little virtual pet)
"look at my cool fashionframe, i did the newer thing but prime" (it's just white and violently yellow gold)
Some random person in relay chat offering blowjobs in exchange for an affinity blessing
Spending more time customizing shit/optimizing builds than you spend playing the game
"look at my cool fashionframe" (Their philosophy seems to be that every single customization slot needs to be filled by something or they will die)
Dropping into a lobby where two players frantically type brazilian portuguese/italian/etc in the chat and you don't understand the language but you understand enough to think that they might be making fun of you
Some random person in region chat saying the horniest shit imaginable
"look at my cool fashionframe" (it actually looks insanely good except the item they used is something you simply cannot get even if you wanted to pay $40000 for it)
Playing the most immersive, best quest ever only to find out that you are physically incapable of beating the archons and you have to teach your little brother how to play warframe just to finish the quest
I can go on and I will
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Sorry I've taken so long to address this, I've had a very busy day and didn't have time to finish this post (which I started yesterday).
I'm talking, of course, about the incredibly controversial situation surrounding DD right now. I've gotten some messages about it so I figured I'd give my thoughts in a bigger post so that I don't have to keep repeating myself.
(CW: racism, spoilers FPU)
I know that by now most people are aware of the situation, but I'm going to start from square one for those who are just catching up on the topic.
There is a scene in Formed Police Unit where Chinese UN peacekeeping troops need to rescue a group of citizens who are surrounded by terrorists. In order to accomplish this they disguise themselves as people from the community. This being Africa, the troops were disguised using blackface.
Yes, I am saying that DD and his castmates appear in the film in blackface.
I am not going to post a picture of that here. It's just something I can't post on my blog. I understand that many of you will want to see for yourself so I'll link a clip of the scene, which was posted on Weibo. Please be aware before clicking - this is full-on blackface. Always take care of yourselves, and if you think it might be upsetting to you don't click. You don't need to see it to be a 'good fan'.
Background
For those who may not know, this movie was filmed years ago, in 2021. During those years I have seen many anti attacks against DD, claiming that he is racist and has worn blackface. Here's the photo that was circulating back then.
At the time I thought the makeup that he was wearing was likely anti-reflective black paint or camouflage paint such as is used by snipers (which he played in the film). I assumed that he was wearing his own hoodie over part of a military costume, because he was wearing a cammo shirt and what might have been combat trousers.
I was certainly not expecting full-on blackface from this movie.
There's no getting around it - this is extremely difficult to look at.
Blackface is widely viewed as offensive and racist. It shouldn't be hard to understand why. Putting on another person's ethnicity like a costume is deeply insensitive, particularly when you consider that BIPOC (black, indigenous, and other people of color) are so frequently targeted, exploited and marginalized. For those in positions of privilege and power to put on the appearance of the people who they oppress and exploit... it's just shocking and awful.
Blackface is most frequently talked about in an American context, but it's actually a problem globally - including in China. More on all that here.
The film
I have not actually seen the film, so I don't know much about the context beyond what is being discussed in the fandom. As I said earlier, in the film a group of UN police officers need to infiltrate an area in the community, and they take on disguises in order to do so.
In promotional media this film is being presented as based on true stories from real missions*. It seems the situation in question really happened on a Chinese peacekeeping mission, and the UN troops disguised themselves as black citizens in order to infiltrate and extract the endangered captives.
*I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt on this because it doesn't change how I feel it should have been handled.
This is important context that is being conveniently left out of much of the backlash about this situation. People are outright claiming that DD plays a black person in the movie - that he wore blackface to perform a role that a black actor could have played. This simply isn't true, and people making these claims are antis and liars. There's simply no excuse for not knowing the full context.
Having said that, I don't really think it matters how it ended up in the film. I do not think there is such a thing as a palatable or appropriate use of blackface. In this day and age it is nearly universally understood to be racist, and it's extremely controversial.
I can understand if they were trying to be accurate to the mission that they were portraying, but surely there are other ways they could have accomplished this scene (perhaps with the clothing but not the blackface). 'Historical accuracy' isn't as important as cultural sensitivity, not by any stretch of the imagination. In the interest of respecting audiences they could have adapted the scene to make the use of blackface unnecessary.
I really see no excuse for anything like this in 2024.
Audience reactions
Chinese sensibilities around these topics are very different from what we are used to in the West.
According to fan repos audiences initially didn't recognize any of the actors, and once it became apparent that they were in disguise, laughter erupted around the room. In fact, most fans are laughing a lot at the photos and video even on social media (although some Chinese netizens have been upset by it and have voiced complaints to various stakeholders).
It is also being widely discussed on Chinese social media as an exciting scene of heroism in the film.
I feel the need to point out that the laughter and mockery is a huge part of the harm, here. As if it's not bad enough that these actors are performing in blackface and presenting a perversion of black ethnicity, it also becomes an opportunity for audiences to mock and disrespect black people. It's become an opportunity for social media to be filled with racist jokes and mockery.
Roadshow statements
There have been some clips circulating of PR and roadshow moments with black cast members and some black audience members who have spoken up in support of the film and to thank the cast and crew for telling the story. Here's one example.
International fans have been dismissing those statements as ignorant or coerced, which I think is offensive and deeply fucked up. There's no planet on which I'm going to - with a totally straight face - say that a black person's response to the movie is not legitimate just because it doesn't comport with my own view.
This is a complex issue and there are inevitably going to be a lot of different perspectives. I hope people won't exacerbate the problem by supplanting black voices on this issue with their own, no matter what's being said. If there's any manipulation going on, let's assume it was in their choosing supportive black figures to speak for the film rather than claim that the black spokespeople are insincere.
China has a lot of issues with racism, there's no doubt about it. It's a huge part of why so many people try to whiten their skin, or why they mock each other when their skin gets tanned/darker. There is a lot of sinister, fucked up stuff going on in China around race - both in the country and in their dealings with other countries.
But we can't claim to speak for black people in China, particularly when they are speaking for themselves! I would hope this is extremely obvious!
Where's DD in all this?
It's understandable that bystanders will react to what they're seeing and might immediately deem it unacceptable - and DD along with it. Their reactions are valid, but as fans I hope that we can look at him with a bit more empathy. I hope that we can take a moment to try to see things from his perspective.
DD has been interested in and an avid fan of black culture since he was a small child. We've all seen how much he immerses himself in hip hop, street dance and the accompanying music and fashion. And yes, he's been accused of cultural appropriation in the past for wearing locs and durags.
However, I think fans need a bit of perspective here to get a sense of where DD might be coming from. Here's a guy who loves black culture, who has close friends who are black, who regularly works with black artists and who supports black artists, in a culture where racism against black people is prevalent and often extreme.
I think DD would probably be amazed to hear the accusations of racism against him. He likely has very few people in his orbit who are anywhere near as supportive of or as closely connected to black people as he is. He likely stands out in his circle as being particularly into black culture and connected with black artists, and probably regularly faces ignorant questions or digs from people around him about his close association with black artists and culture.
Not just because of racism alone, but also due to the racist parallels the government tends to draw between black culture, street dance, hip hop, etc. and criminality/moral degradation*. It's likely that ignorant people in his orbit have expressed concern or wariness toward him because of these associations.
*That is, until breakdancing became an Olympic sport, then they were suddenly onboard with some of it.
I'm not saying that he doesn't have a lot of learning to do (and if this situation becomes what I think it might become, he'll have a big opportunity to do so), I'm just saying that his ignorance isn't mean-spirited. He's coming at this from a totally different angle than any of us are, and he is immersed in a totally different cultural perspective than our own. In his world, his interest likely makes him a bit of an anomaly.
So those painting him as a horrible racist... it's just not how I see it.
The element of choice
I've heard many people say that DD 'didn't have any choice' about this role, that turning it down would not have been an option or that he would be under some kind of threat if he didn't take this role. I don't agree with that characterization of things. I don't think it's quite as 'gun to the head' as a lot of fans paint it.
I think it's more likely that he simply didn't realize that the role would involve blackface when he accepted it, or that he thought that blackface in this context - to infiltrate a terrorist cell and save civilians - would be fine. We don't need to depict China as forcibly compelling actors to take unwanted roles if we want to make sense of this. There are simpler, more logical explanations.
DD wouldn't have been the one deciding how to depict the scene - he didn't have that power in 2021 - but I also doubt he would have had a major problem with it given everything we know.
We must overcome our Western tendency to see things only from our own perspective. This has a totally different cultural context in China, and the voices we listen to about it should not be issuing exclusively from white faces that are not at ground zero of this situation.
Final thoughts
This film has had me worried from day one. I think most people have been expecting it to be full of offensive portrayals and propagandistic fuckery. There are so many ways in which a Chinese film about the UN is potentially a sticky, tricky mess. This blackface thing is likely just one problem on a towering pile of problems.
However, I'm not going to sugarcoat this - this has the potential to be a real shitshow for DD, and I am concerned. Especially if this film gets an international release.
We need to brace ourselves, because I don't think this is going to just disappear. DD has endorsements with international brands, and this could definitely cause backlash for those brands unless the issue is addressed and the scenes removed. There's no planet on which brands like Chanel and Lacoste can afford to have one of their spokespeople plastered everywhere in blackface.
If this film gets an international release and those scenes are left intact, it's possible he will lose some brands.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but let's face it - things like this have consequences, and that's why it's so important for producers and artists to be sensitive about what they're portraying.
While I think there's some endorsement risk here for DD, and the potential loss of some international fans, I want to be clear about one thing: I don't think this will threaten his career overall. In China this just isn't an issue in the way it is internationally.
I do hope the film team addresses this issue in some way, ideally by removing the scenes. They just finished doing a massive edit to remove ZZH from the film, surely they can handle something like this. But let's not hold our breath...
Everyone has the right to make up their minds about DD. As I've often said, being a turtle isn't for the faint of heart. That's not just because turtles are frequent targets for bullies, or because we have to constantly live with uncertainty and doubt.
Being an international turtle also isn't for the faint of heart because there are a lot of cultural and political minefields to navigate, and many ideological differences to adapt to. There's a huge learning curve and a lot of unknowns, and turtles who want to survive have to make peace with the fact that we and the boys are from different worlds in many ways. We may never know where they really stand on issues that are important to us.
However, in this case I feel confident that I know where DD's heart is on this issue. He simply doesn't hold hatred, disrespect or disdain for black people. Quite the contrary.
I think we'd all just feel a lot better if he had a good grasp on how to be a better ally.
And while we're waiting for that, I think we should put our money where our mouths are and learn more about these issues ourselves, both in China and locally at home. We want DD to be a better person; let's be better people too.
Edit: more on this here.
#bjyx#yizhan#ggdd controversies#please rebloggers don't tag with his name or the name of the film#i don't want this outside the turtle circle - the fan wars are horrific
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Hm, I know I said at least in my first reading of mdzs that I felt like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were actually friends as kids, I would like to remind folks that the catastrophic breakdown of their friendship was not because of some misplaced care but because Jiang Cheng is a stagnant character whose whole role in the story is to be the one who never learns, changes, and grows past his insecurities and resentments. They were always going to fall out with each other, even if the Sunshot Campaign never happened, even if the Wen Clan didn’t exist as a subjugating force terrorizing the other clans, because no matter how much Jiang Cheng cares about anyone, he will always place his personal resentments first.
I’m so serious: reread the pre-fall of Lotus Pier parts of the novel (flashback extras included), and tell me how many times Jiang Cheng says something genuinely nice about or to the benefit of Wei Wuxian without prompting. Point to me places where Jiang Cheng puts himself on the line for Wei Wuxian that is not him distracting the Wen. Compare the number of unambiguously positive interactions they have to the number of interactions they have in total, and I bet you’ll see that the positives are laughingly scant. Most every interaction they have together, Jiang Cheng is being a negative nancy. He’s the type of friend who, if you said “Today is a good day!” would snidely respond back, “What’s so good about?” before loudly complaining about what a nuisance your happiness is. Jiang Cheng is the type of friend that tells you that everyone else hates you because you’re so annoying, and you need to do something about that because he also finds you annoying so you should be lucky he “puts up with” you. And all of this negativity can be directly traced back to the resentment Jiang Cheng feels caused by his own mother projecting her insecurities onto him. Jiang Cheng, who cannot grow, learn, or change, is unable to extract his own self from his mother’s insecurities, ending up inheriting them as his own, instead.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like teen!Jiang Cheng is some irredeemable monster (that is reserved for his adult self), but Wei Wuxian already shows signs of being tired of his attitude as kids. He snaps at Jiang Cheng rudeness in the lotus pod seeds extra. He constantly admonishes Jiang Cheng about his blatant disregard for the lives and safety of other people. Most of the time, Wei Wuxian won’t even engage in the petty little remarks that Jiang Cheng makes, just treating it like nobody had spoken at all. The only times Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian move as a unit is when they have a common enemy—like Jin Zixuan—but without that, they are only held together by the fact that…they’ve been friends for a long time.
And this kinda leads me back to the point about the yunmeng friendship not being able to withstand the test of time even without an outside conflict: I would place the point of no return for their relationship at Wei Wuxian killing the xuanwu of slaughter, not at the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian is one of two individuals that killed a mythological bloodthirsty creature responsible for hundreds of deaths, spent a week in a coma from his injuries and lack of immediate care, and what does he get for it? Jiang Cheng shows up with soup gifted to Wei Wuxian by Jiang Yanli, except he’s eaten all the meat out of it. Jiang Fengmian gives the most lukewarm praise to Wei Wuxian for his achievements—which Wei Wuxian neither complained about nor called him out for—because they were both trying to be mindful of Jing Cheng’s insecurities, and Jiang Cheng still made it about himself. When Madam Yu storms in to yell about how Wei Wuxian is a “bastard child” and he’s just trying to show off, Jiang Cheng consciously and unambiguously sides with his mother. Wei Wuxian had to drag his feverish body out of bed—after just awakening from a week-long coma—to placate pity-party Jiang Cheng, and the only thing that makes him feel better is not promises of continued friendship but of servitude. Even if at this point Wei Wuxian was still viewing Jiang Cheng as a—admittedly caustic—friend, Jiang Cheng’s view had fully transitioned from “annoying friend my mother hates” to “the servant I need to keep in line lest he overshadows me.” If anything, the fall of Lotus Pier, the debt placed on Wei Wuxian by the Jiang leaders, and the subsequent war probably allowed their friendship to last longer than it naturally would have (remember, they are only united against outside forces).
All this to say that while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian may have started out as genuine friends in their childhood, their transition to enemies has absolutely nothing to do with that care. Sometimes we fall out with people because we just do not like them as people. Jiang Cheng’s resentment prevented him from appreciating Wei Wuxian as a person, leading to the end of their friendship and their descent into eventual enemies. Not misplaced or warped care, just pure, undeniable resentment.
#human metas mxtx#mdzs#idk i think the mdzs fandom can stand to analyze#why they feel so uncomfortable with people genuinely disliking each other#why every conflict has to be about ‘but deep down x really cared!’#when we are told and shown over and over again in a variety of different scenes and narrations#that the ‘care’ literally does not exist#mxtx does not fault genuine love or care for why shit goes south#and it’s weird to push the idea that positive feelings towards people is what leads to negative relationship outcomes#it was always jc’s resentment that did him in#his care or capacity for it is not even in the equation#because the resentment has pushed it out
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