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aliwritesfic · 3 years ago

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The Wedding Date (Frankie Morales x F!Reader) (part 1)

Fic summary: After walking in on your boyfriend boning the neighbour, you suddenly find yourself single and without a plus one to four weddings over the summer. Wanting to avoid looks of pity and the 'still single?' comments, your best friend Olivia Miller suggests you take a friend of her brothers; Frankie Morales.

Warnings: Swearing, slut-shamey attitudes

Rating: 18+

W/C: 2k

Prologue - Next

You awoke with a raging headache.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered, sitting up and pressing the heels of your hand into your eyes until you saw spots. Deep breath, in, hold, and out. It will not be a disaster.

It was the morning of the first of four weddings you had been invited to. When you had received the invites the year before, you had been in a relationship with your ex Michael, and as such, had ticked the plus one box without a second thought. Now, you were very single and in an effort to not be an asshole at what was probably the most stressful time of someone’s life, you had agreed to go with someone who you had never met. But you trusted Olivia to not set you up with a psycho murderer, and the idea of not having people who knew about Michael look at you with pity was mighty appealing.

You washed your face in your tiny bathroom, popping a couple of Advil for the headache. It was probably dehydration-related, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to speed things along while you slowly downed a gallon of icy water from the fridge.

Walking into your kitchen, you checked on your tortoise tank, dropping a handful of chopped vegetables in for Mr. Baldwin. Mr. Baldwin was the only consistent man in your life, and you appreciated the tiny Russian Tortoise immensely for that.

“I wish you could be my plus one,” you murmured, stroking his shell as he munched loudly on a piece of lettuce. But alas, tortoises were not socially acceptable wedding dates. You were also pretty sure that taking a man you had never met before was also not socially acceptable, but it seemed more acceptable than a reptile who shat wherever he liked. And no one had to know that you had never met this Frankie guy before. Hell, you knew enough about him through casual text exchanges that he wasn’t a complete stranger.

Olivia had told you to think of it as a Tinder hook-up, because in her words, if you use that beautiful brain to think in the abstract, it wasn’t any different.

Except you wouldn’t be hooking up with this man, you’d be taking him to weddings, pretending like your heart still didn’t ache every time you thought of Michael, and about how he had betrayed you, and going home. Alone.

Not that you really minded being alone. You craved it a lot of the time; the freedom it gave for you to be your truest self, but on days where people would be looking at you and wondering . . . Yeah, that wasn’t appealing.

You sat down on your fluffy white rug with a sigh, turning the TV on to a re-run of Love Island, and dragged your makeup case and mirror towards you. Frankie wasn’t picking you up for another three hours, but more often than not you had to re-do your makeup at least twice before you were fully satisfied, so the earlier you started the better.

As you listened to the almost unintelligible British voices, you hoped that Frankie Morales wasn’t a creep.

At that moment, Frankie Morales was thinking almost the exact thing about you. Up until that morning, he had been feeling confident about the whole thing; the promise free food had been enough for him to say yes. Now, on the morning of the first wedding, he was feeling less sure. He had made a commitment though, and he was not the type of person to easily back out of one of those.

Frankie sipped on his coffee and triple-checked the directions to your place again. Twenty minutes away in traffic, twelve without. The venue, a lakeside garden, was a further forty-five minutes. Frankie had planned everything down to the minute - he could blame that on nerves and the fact that he hated being late almost as much as he hated the cold.

He looked down at his phone, re-reading the sporadic texts between the two of you. It was mainly introductory stuff, dates he needed to be free (if he still wanted to do this after today), and the dress codes, because apparently weddings now had dress codes that extended beyond ‘your most acceptable shit’. Today was ‘casual’, something that made Frankie blink twice. Surely, he had thought, that doesn’t mean shorts and flip-flops. He had asked Benny, who didn’t have a clue, who had asked Will who shrugged and said to Google it.

Feeling like this was the best course of action, Frankie did exactly that. As it turned out, normal casual and wedding casual were two very different things.

He chose his nicest button-up for the day - pale blue and free from stains. He had borrowed a pair of chinos from Will, which fit surprisingly better than he had expected, and dug out a pair of dress shoes from the back of his closet.

He examined his reflection in the mirror, combing his hair back with gel. He didn’t exactly feel like himself without his cap, but he knew that the old oil-stained thing wasn’t proper wedding attire. Even if the dress code was ‘casual’.

His phone buzzed on the table as he tied the laces of his shoes.

Benny: have fun today playaaaa, lmk if you need a ride home. rmbr dont stress, i met her n shes cool

Frankie sent a thumbs up in response, too distracted by nerves to send anything more coherent. He shouldn’t have been this nervous. He had to think of this as a favour for a friend of a friend, nothing more.

“Get it together, Fransisco,” he muttered to himself when his alarm buzzed, warning him that it was time to leave. He wiped his sweaty palms on his chinos and climbed into his truck. He took the nice truck, his old Chevy smelt too much like oil and stale cigarettes for him to even consider taking it.

He hummed along to the Stones as he drove through the thankfully light traffic. The neighbourhood you lived in was quaint, with brightly painted houses and palm trees lining the streets. When he opened his window, he could hear the ocean in the distance.

Frankie pulled up out the front of the address you had given; a tiny bungalow with a faded yellow exterior and a mailbox made to look like a tortoise that was clearly brand new. Frankie turned the truck off, made sure his shirt was tucked in at the back and walked the path to your front door.

God what if she’s expecting me to do all the date stuff? He thought knocking on your door. He pushed that thought out of his mind with a silent reprimand. You had told him, hell, even Olivia had told him, that all you needed was someone to go with you so you could avoid all the awkward ‘still single then?’ pity glances and comments. He could understand, relate, to that. Shit, he still got them and he had been divorced for almost four years.

“I’ll be out in a second!” You called, your voice muffled by the walls between you. He heard a loud thud, and the door flew open.

Well, shit.

Photos didn’t do you justice.

You wore a dress of pale green that stopped mid-calf, and a pair of heels that almost made the two of you the same height. Your hair was pulled away from your face in soft waves, and Frankie found his eyes drawn to a small gold pendant that winked at your throat.

“Frankie,” it came out more like a statement than a question, but Frankie still found himself nodding. “I really can’t thank you enough for this, seriously you’re doing me a huge favour.” You locked the door and dropped the keys into a small glittery handbag.

“It’s not a big deal,” Frankie said, stepping aside so you could walk in front of him to his car. You shook your head.

“Trust me, it is to me. My cousin Hector offered to come with but he smells like tinned asparagus and lives in fucking Rhode Island so he’d stay with me all summer and he’d asparagus up the place.” You paused for a moment, pink lip curling up. “Plus, my tortoise hates him.”

“You have a tortoise?” Frankie asked, buckling his seatbelt and glancing at the tortoise mailbox.

“His name is Mr. Baldwin and I would die for him. Also if there was some kind of technology developed that would allow him to talk, and he asked me to kill someone, I’d do that.”

Frankie was struggling to keep up with your rapid pace, but filed away bits of information in case it came up later.

“Can I ask something?” He asked when there was a moment of silence.

“Of course,” you said, pulling out a piece of gum.

“Why aren’t you going with Olivia?” It had been a question playing on his mind for the past week but didn’t feel like it was something that could be brought up over text without the tone being misconstrued.

“She’s already going with her situationship for three of them, and the fourth, the one in Virginia, she’s going to Nevada for a work conference.”

What the fuck is a situationship, Frankie wondered, knowing he’d have to Google the word later. Things fell into a not-quite comfortable silence, the only sound was the radio playing some glam rock song from the 80s.

“So, anything I should know about the happy couple?” Frankie asked, breaking the silence.

“The bride, Mariette, tore her ACL in college and it’s her main personality trait,” you supplied. “The groom, Luke, has a vendetta against ‘Big Tech’,” you made air quotes and rolled your eyes, “so if you talk to him probably don’t mention anything to do with any type of social media.”

“They sound . . .” Frankie struggled to find the right word.

“Insufferable?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Frankie grimaced, although he had been thinking it.

“They are, trust me, I went to college with both of them. I only said I was going in the first place because Olivia begged me,” you shrugged. “But I don’t know - if anything, it should be interesting. Mariette and Luke never struck me as the type to have a drama-free wedding.”

Frankie smiled, hoping you were right about the interesting part.

The parking lot of the venue was already half-filled by the time Frankie pulled in, people in their best casual wear were milling about or wandering into the gardens. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw you pull a face, gazing out at the gathering patrons.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah just a bunch of people I haven’t seen in years,” you said. You turned to him and bit your lip. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but I had a bit of a reputation of being a whore in college, and while most of it is false, there is some truth to the rumours and it’s been years, and like, I’m not ashamed of who I was, but they all still see me as-”

“You’re rambling,” Frankie said gently, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. He was startled at how soft your skin felt under his fingers. “For what it’s worth, I don’t care about rumours, and I don’t care if you had an orgy with fifty people. Who you are now is what matters, not who you were.”

You smiled, hearing the truth in his words. Frankie had experience with people focusing on the past and refusing to look beyond that. He wouldn’t hold your past against you, and he hoped you wouldn’t hold his against him if it ever came to that.

“Alright,” you took a deep breath and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, “let’s get this shit-show on the road.”

Frankie noticed how you stood with your back straight, face an impassive mask. He had to admire you a little, how easily you were able to become someone unbothered by the words of others.

#the wedding date #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #fransisco morales #frankie morales

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televisionboy · 4 years ago

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this gif is everything skdjdjfn and this is my first alphabet! so give me love and constructive criticism.

taglist: @punkgeekchic @visionsofsweettea @adoresobs @am4sawa @reblogsfandom @evarolines @somethingstuffy

Timothee Chalamet Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dates with Timothee are very very comforting and new at the same time. He LOVES getting out of the house and going to a city where shops are lining every corner and small cafes with coffee to die for. But he also loves to cook you dinner and rehash your days. He’s quite a domestic person.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Timothee finds all of you attractive. But his favorite thing to do is whenever you’re reading a book or the two of you are watching TV, and you’re at one end of the couch and he’s at the other end, he loves to run his hands up and down your legs while they rest in his lap. Drumming his fingers against your knees is like a calming thing

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He doesn’t talk, at all. He’s an incredibly patient boyfriend who will sit there with you and sync your breathing while hugging you. He will listen for hours and hours to you talk about it. And if not, he makes tea for you and offers cuddles and comfortable silences. I mean, either way he always makes tea.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would love a family with you, he knows you’d be an incredible parent to his children. But he’s content being young, having new experiences and getting to be spontaneous. If he had to think about it, he’d like one or two children and maybe a dog. Living in a cozy but spacious home, of course there’s a pool in the back.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

well, when he’s in the mood, jealous/mad he definitely will be dominant (and especially in bed) but he’s in no way so dominant that you will feel like his maid or a child. But he really doesn’t want to consider your relationship to be that way. Both of you are just you and treat each other equally.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He gets cold when he’s fighting with you. Timothee’s a bit like a younger sibling while fighting, he knows how to push your buttons and won’t stop until he see’s a reaction. But he has that guilty feeling wash over him so fast. He’s very very easy to forgive you because how could he say no to someone like you??

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. He spoils like no other. If you point out that you like a pair of earrings, they’re yours (it doesn’t matter that they’re pure diamonds) you mentioned that you want to see Italy? Tickets booked. And a great thing about him, on top of being a good listener is that he has a great eye. And he picks up on things and is quick to notice them. Which is a big reason he’s so successful in acting. Even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes so he can relax, to something as kind as making him your very own fan gift.. he melts every time.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mmm, he certainly tries not to but everyone keeps secrets. There are things that both of you prefer to keep private but he wouldn’t keep something like him kissing another woman a secret.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve inspired him and fueled him to become a stronger actor even if you’re not one yourself. Some of your advice is seriously helpful, and some are unhelpful but hilarious. No matter what you will tell him, he knows you’re waiting at home or even at his set with open arms, waiting for him to win an award and fangirl online to other Timmy fans. It makes him blush and cause a billion butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He trusts you 100% that you would never leave him, and he doesn’t want to be one of those boyfriends who restricts their partner. But there’s a part of him that’s incredibly insecure and is convinced you can do better. There are some parts that WANT you to leave him and do better. He would never ever show it in public, but you can read him well. You’ll put a hand on his bouncing knee and kiss his jaw.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He knows he’s a damn good kisser as well as charmer. You had been on a couple of dates with him, on one you mentioned that it was on your bucket list to be kissed in the rain. He made sure to schedule a date when there would be rain and he took you on a picnic. Towards the end, it had started to pour and you were trying to run back to the car but he grabbed your face and kissed you so hard but so passionately. His curls were dripping and the sandwiches were ruined but the feeling was incredible.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Rightttt after that kiss, in the car you were drying off and laughing with him while the radio was on in the background. The car was on but he wasn’t driving. Instead, he turned to you and told you he was in love with you. Both of you had said “love you” but never “i’m in love with you”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s on the fence about babies but he knows for certain that he wants to marry you. You know that scene in The Office where Jim shows the engagement ring for Pam and is like “I got it 3 weeks into dating”? That’s Timmy.

He brings you to a premire of one of his movies and at the end when all the credit’s are rolling, it says “y/n will you marry me?” and when you turn back around, Timmy is on one knee and Armie is most likely behind him crying his eyes out.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Babe” “Baby” “Mon cherie” When you two are married, he’ll join you in the kitchen while cooking dinner and call you “Mrs Chalamet” before kissing your shoulder and beginning to chop veggies. It’s just incredibly domestic

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

so so so obvious and so in love. He shows you off as much as possible and talks about you on talk shows until he’s sure that the audience is annoyed and SNL mocks him (and even then, he’ll continue)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

he brags but he does know when to dial it back for your own privacy and humility. BUT that doesn’t mean he won’t hold your hand in public, or banter with you on a twitter thread even if you both are right next to each other on the couch playing footsie

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a great eye and is quick to pick up on things. It’s almost as if he has certain senses and can tell when you’re having a bad day or upset. He just knows. It’s incredible. He’ll run you a bath and order cake to indulge yourself in before you even get home.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

The most sickley, fluffy, romantic, boyfriend that it makes me sick. Timothee would dye his hair rainbow and cut of his toes if it meant you would smile. On a more romantic note, he pulls out all the stops but it’s a bit more subtle?? Like he is very romantic but it’s not overwhelming. There’s no string quartet and private dining room but there will be jazz and dancing at midnight or a homemade “restaurant” with Timothee as a one man (messy) staff but it’s the best thing you could have ever come home to

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s your head cheerleader and the most selfless human ever. Will cheer for you until his voice goes mute and even then, he’s the one clapping the loudest and crying the most.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

both! Timothee is like a dog in some ways. He’s energetic and needs new things, to be outside, to be social. But he craves hugs and cuddling, he adores late night talks with you or watching you make him breakfast while he scrolls through Instagram. Like I said, a very domestic guy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He know’s you like the back of his hand and he could spot you with his eyes closed and only by feeling your face. He knows your habits, and the food you hate, your terrible cooking skills, and the kind of dad jokes you tell, the anxiety ticks, and what shows you’ll watch over and over again.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He’d go insane without you. You’re addictive because you have a pure heart and a dirty mind and he falls in love the more you show that. He brings you back the weirdest things that remind him of you. Stationary cards with odd quotes, an antique necklace from the 40′s, peach earrings (because he enables your teasing)

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He’s like the real version of “JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD” but a little more loving lol “I love you, but I’m willing to defend my fries”

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I said that he’s like a puppy! he needs kisses and scratches to his head (free scalp massage) and he’s a clingy puppy too. i mean, look at his eyes for the love of god.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he aches so bad. He is your cheerleader but he can’t function without you. You’re his cup of coffee, an antidepressant. He’s fangirling inside for your new project but when he sees your mug or reaches to bring you close to his chest and you’re not there, he’s unable to fall asleep or make a cup of coffee.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d travel to Mars and back if you asked him to. Just ask him, and he does it. One time, he was working on a movie with an actress who was quite snippy to you and he quit immediately, feeling incredibly guilty and nauseous. He got you very expensive lox and bagels one morning because you were whining about it the previous night. He doesn’t want to close his eyes at night because there’s so many things he wants to do before he goes on to the next day. But when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all you, you, you, you, you and how much he’s overwhelmed with total adoration for you

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet icons #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #fluff #fluff alphabet #x reader #x you

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clatterbane · 2 years ago

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Tonight's delight: the best meal I've managed to throw together in quite a while! Vaguely pseudo-Greek style.

And all for myself, since Mr. C took off to see some friends this weekend. Especially with the post-viral BS, I haven't been great at turning out anything but pretty low spoons options for a while, and food is always way harder when I am the only one around needing it. But, I really needed some half-decent Real Food with vegetables and all, and made sure I got some. With plenty of leftovers for tomorrow. 😊

To go with the tomatoey green beans I was craving? (A smaller batch, made with frozen green beans without the potatoes.) I decided to go with some "oat rice" that I hadn't tried yet, and a little pork tenderloin out of the freezer with a quick marinade.

That's just simple pilaf style, sauteed with some onion and garlic then cooked in some veggie bouillon. I was interested in trying that more because I just like oats and some type of variety in my diet, but the "extra nutritious and environmently friendly" part is also a bonus!

Next time, I think I will use a little less liquid, but the oats turned out delicious. Reminds me of a fairly chewy cross between barley and brown rice, and I bet those would make a great GF barley substitute in soups, etc.

The tenderloin just spent a while marinating in a baggie with some chopped garlic, bottled lemon juice and dried oregano (plus some salt and pepper). One of my favorite fallback options for basically any kind of meat, really. A quick pan sear and you're set! I managed not to overcook it this time, and it turned out super tender and juicy. 😋

Everybody here has such awesome executive function that I had started trying to cook before I remembered that we were totally out of olive oil. So, I had to use sunflower for everything instead. Not the same flavor, but thankfully everything tasted great to me anyway!

Oh yes, we should also get more of this excellent totally-not-feta type cheese, since it's just a few little chunks floating around in the big can of brine now. Yay, local Turkish-run supermarket! 😁

Great finishing touch, crumbled on top of the green beans. Glad I finally remembered to pull it out of the fridge.

#food #staying fed #green beans #instant pot #greek inspired #pork #pork tenderloin #oat rice #havreris

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vivithefolle · 4 years ago

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Is there anyway you could share the entire livejournal essay about Hermione's reaction to Ron coming back in DH? The few paragraphs that you referred to in your recent answer sound extremely interesting.

[The “recent answer” that goes back to... last December. Oh my god I’m such an ass I left you hanging for so long I’m so sorry.]

Okay, okay, so here goes! KEEP IN MIND: I DIDN’T WRITE THIS. I FOUND THIS ON LIVEJOURNAL AND PICKED EVERYTHING THAT I LIKED ABOUT IT, AS WELL AS SOME COMMENTS THAT INTERESTED ME.

This “essay” was actually more of a “reading the books” thing with the person sharing their thoughts and ideas about it. The person was clearly a Snape fan, but they had sympathy for Ron too. I’ll try to formate it as accurately as I can remember it.

And now, here it is:

---

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

[About Ron being made a prefect.] The essayist: It’s sad, but this probably is the first time Ron’s beaten Harry at something. And the last time.

A commenter: Ron's had a really difficult life, and this is the book that proved it for me. It made me a Ron fan. Just look at the interactions he has with Fred and George. This is commonplace. I know a lot of people don't like Ron, but just look at this book, this chapter especially. People have accused Ron of being lazy, unambitious, having no emotions, and being a big stupid boy. It's just not true. Look at how Fred and George needle him out of jealousy. Look at how they treat Percy. Imagine Ron having to grow up with two older brothers that will not hesitate to bother, torture and torment people that stand out or that get more attention than they do or that cross them. He saw it happening with Percy, so what's he going to learn? He'll learn to shut up unless he wants to have something happen to him. He'll learn that standing out positively is rewarded with cruelty. I can understand how Mrs. Weasley could not have fully protected him from those two. Not all the time, not while trying to also care for Ginny, keeping up with her other kids in school, and running the household. Worst of all, punishing F&G doesn't seem to do anything. Those two just don't care/they crave the attention, negative or positive. The best thing she could've done would be to give them no attention, but that's so against her nature that unfortunately she just fed the monsters. No emotions? Is it really difficult to understand that sensitivity wouldn't be encouraged in young Ron? He's got these two bullies that only want a reaction out of him. If he cries, it'll only encourage them. Any reaction is encouraging to them, but he has to go with anger. It's a survival thing- puff yourself up, make yourself look bigger than you are so the predator messes with you a little less. Look at the pride Ron's showing in his badge. The desire to do well is there. He likes the good feeling that comes with it, but he's been hard-wired since birth that it's better to be "middle of the pack". In later chapters, I know you'll have to point out the way the power makes Ron behave, so I just want to start on the defence now. It's all Ron knows. It's all he's been taught. It's a huge character flaw, but it's what makes him so human. Rowling did develop this in the book, but only accidentally. We're never going to get a good look at Ron's psychology except through these hints because it's, as usual, All About Harry. Ron's flawed, but I hope we remember that he has a reason why he's got those flaws. It doesn't excuse him, but it really explains him. So yeah... that's why I defend Ron.

...

“I’m not Percy,’ he finished defiantly.”

The essayist: Mmmm-hm. Ron feels nervous at the thought of his good fortune inspiring anger in someone and what's his first defence? "I'm not Percy"? Man, the evidence that the Twins' psychological torment has left lasting scars on Ron could not have been more obvious if he'd shielded himself and said "Please don't jinx me, Fred! ... I mean Harry. ... Shit, what'd I say?"

...

“Excellent,” said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick. “What were you saying before the Sorting?” Hermione asked the ghost. “About the hat giving warnings?” “Oh yes,” said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm.

The essayist: Ron’s not being very restrained with his eating, is he?

The commenter: I don't know if it's accidental or not, but this is one of those moments that I love, one of the tellings of Ron's home life via his behavior. In this scenario, he's totally a kitten who just got adopted to a house where he's the only cat. He's at a table with food, so his instinct is to eat as fast as he can or his siblings will yoink it. It doesn't help that there are many other people around, encouraging the "get the good stuff fast or you'll have to sate yourself on bread or whatever nobody wants". Ron is so much more human than Harry! How can Harry not be showing any signs of his "horrendous abuse" for eleven years? Well... I guess he sort of does when he buys all that stuff in his first year. And I guess Ron has to go back home every summer where it gets reinforced. But Harry goes back every summer, too... what the hell?

...

“What’s going on?” Ron had appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes traveled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. “He’s having a go at my mother!” Seamus yelled. “What?” said Ron. “Harry wouldn’t do that — we met your mother, we liked her. . .” “That’s before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!” said Harry at the top of his voice. “Oh,” said Ron, comprehension dawning across his freckled face. “Oh . . . right.” “You know what?” said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look. “He’s right, I don’t want to share a dormitory with him anymore, he’s a madman.” “That’s out of order, Seamus,” said Ron, whose ears were starting to glow red, always a danger sign. “Out of order, am I?” shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron was turning paler. “You believe all the rubbish he’s come out with about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he’s telling the truth?” “Yeah, I do!” said Ron angrily. “Then you’re mad too,” said Seamus in disgust. “Yeah? Well unfortunately for you, pal, I’m also a prefect!” said Ron, jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. “So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!”

The essayist: Note how Ron’s first reaction is to side with Harry.

The commenter: Not surprising because of the best friends thing (some might argue) but I say it's not surprising considering how Hermione and Ron were treating Harry like a ticking time bomb. Survival!

...

“Hello, Harry!” It was Cho Chang and what was more, she was on her own again. This was most unusual: Cho was almost always surrounded by a gang of giggling girls; Harry remembered the agony of trying to get her by herself to ask her to the Yule Ball. “Hi,” said Harry, feeling his face grow hot. At least you’re not covered in Stinksap this time, he told himself. Cho seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You got that stuff off, then?” “Yeah,” said Harry, trying to grin as though the memory of their last meeting was funny as opposed to mortifying. “So did you . . . er . . . have a good summer?” The moment he had said this he wished he hadn’t: Cedric had been Cho’s boyfriend and the memory of his death must have affected her holiday almost as badly as it had affected Harry’s. . . Something seemed to tauten in her face, but she said, “Oh, it was all right, you know. . .” “Is that a Tornados badge?” Ron demanded suddenly, pointing at the front of Cho’s robes, to which a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T was pinned. “You don’t support them, do you?” “Yeah, I do,” said Cho. “Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?” said Ron, in what Harry considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice. “I’ve supported them since I was six,” said Cho coolly. “Anyway . . . see you, Harry.” She walked away. Hermione waited until Cho was halfway across the courtyard before rounding on Ron. “You are so tactless!”

The essayist: So Harry meets Cho, makes a complete faux pas and reminds her of her dead boyfriend. Ron quickly steers the conversation away onto something more happy, i.e., Quidditch, before Cho can get too upset. Nevertheless, Ron is apparently the insensitive jerk around here, not Harry.

[If this reminds you of something, then yes, I absolutely took what the essayist was saying and elaborated on it. I confess, I am a dirty thief.]

...

“Well, I suppose he could’ve played better,” Harry muttered, “but it was only the first training session, like you said. . .” Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework that night. Harry knew Ron was too preoccupied with how badly he had performed at Quidditch practice and he himself was having difficulty in getting the chant of “Gryffindor are losers” out of his head. [...] And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again. At half-past eleven, Hermione wandered over to them, yawning. “Nearly done?” “No,” said Ron shortly. “Jupiter’s biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto,” she said, pointing over Ron’s shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, “and it’s Io that’s got the volcanos.” “Thanks,” snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

The essayist: So Ron’s getting basic facts wrong in his essays.

The commenter: This is going to look so contrived, but I genuinely believe it, and maybe after these reviews, your standards for contrived have dropped enough for me to pass the bar :3 But... he's not putting in any effort. His ego can't take another beating at the moment (even punching bags have limits). Imagine it- after the Quidditch humiliation with his friend the Star Athlete (when he really was trying) he tries to distract himself by doing school work 1. which he isn't very good at anyway, 2. with the Star Athlete of Academics/Slytherin Spectator Crowd best friend Hermione there 3. with Hermione there to set it right anyway (it sounds as if Hermione isn’t so much correcting their essays as writing them herself). If he tries his best at this and then fails at that, Ron probably would start to consider suicide. It's self-preservation at this point to put in zero effort. This kind of fail is literally "I'm not trying because I have given up."

...

She wrenched her bag open; Harry thought she was about to put her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill, and stood back to admire the effect. “What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” said Ron, watching her as though fearful for her sanity. “They’re hats for house-elves,” she said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag. “I did them over the summer. I’m a really slow knitter without magic, but now I’m back at school I should be able to make lots more.” “You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?” “Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back. “That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You’re setting them free when they might not want to be free.” “Of course they want to be free!” said Hermione at once, though her face was turning pink. “Don’t you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls’ dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats. They should at least see what they’re picking up,” he said firmly. “Anyway . . .” He rolled up the parchment on which he had written the title of Snape’s essay. “There’s no point trying to finish this now, I can’t do it without Hermione, I haven’t got a clue what you’re supposed to do with moonstones, have you?”

The essayist: This doesn’t seem like a particularly open-minded and enquiring position to take, although I suppose that Hermione’s open-mindedness has always been something of an informed attribute.

The commenter: This trope among fans has got me riled up beyond belief because they use the "Hermione's word is gospel" thing to make unfair assumptions about other characters: Ron's "emotional range of a teaspoon" thing comes to mind, and right after that, Lavender supposedly being silly about believing Trelawney about her dead pet (Hermione never considered that maybe the thing Lavender was dreading was bad news from home or bad news about her pet). Regarding house elves: This is one case where the fans ought to have seen that Hermione was being very thoughtless as far as strategy. Ron has lived all his life up until this point thinking that there was no problem with house elves and she literally expects to be able to just tell him "it's wrong" and he's supposed to change instantly? Talk about your cultural insensitivity. In this case, maybe Ron knows better than you do, Hermione? You didn't even know about house elves until you were at least twelve (but more likely, she didn't know until this year). She must understand the concept of "he doesn't know it's wrong". That was how she defended Crookshanks when he was chasing Scabbers. ... Hey, Hermione thinks Ron's smarter than her cat. That's something, I guess.

...

The commenter: Competition is seriously the worst thing in the world for Ron. He's got wa-a-ay too much baggage. Do well so they'll love you. Do well so they'll notice you. If they notice you, you'll get praised. And tormented by Fred and George. Then if you fuck up, you'll have let everyone down. My brothers never let anyone down. That's the standard. Oh God, I can't live up to that. Which do I want to chose- being ignored or scorned? I could do well. Then I'll be good enough to be called "just like them"! JFC, when's it ever going to be "Good like Ron"? Chess. Literally everyone else has one thing they shine in, even Neville with his Botany and Dean with his art (and... and I'm going to ignore the fact that Hermione and Luna are the only two I can think of with non-appearance based special stuff... someone please help me out? I guess Tonks' doesn't really count as a shallow one because it makes her a master of disguise...)

...

HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

...

Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

The essayist: “Hermione spared [Ron] one look of disdain before turning back to Harry” pretty much sums up her relationships within the trio. It’s no wonder Ron’s so insecure and keeps worrying that she really fancies Harry.

...

“And you’ve been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway...” “You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look,” said Ron, shaking back his sleeves. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

The essayist: Ron’s so adorably pathetic here, the way he’s obviously feeling inferior to Harry and being ignored by his so-called friends. *hugs Ron*

...

When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Remembering what Hermione had said about the Patil twins’ parents wanting them to leave Hogwarts, Harry was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Ron had refrained from doing so after Malfoy had broken Harry’s nose; Hermione, however, looked cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle, and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing Ron good luck.

The essayist: Hermione keeps belittling Ron and doing him down, and reacts quite strongly when he even so much hints at losing interest in her and showing attention to another woman. Can we say “abusive relationship”, anybody?

...

“Harry! Ginny!” Hermione was hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves. “I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck--I mean Witherwings,” she said breathlessly. “Did you have a good Christmas?” “Yeah,” said Ron at once, “pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim—” “I've got something for you, Harry,” said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. “Oh, hang on--password. Abstinence.”

The essayist: Wow, Hermione’s just being so childish here, ignoring Ron when he’s talking directly to her. Incidentally, Ron’s speaking to her like a normal friend, it’s Hermione who’s doing the blanking. Still, I’m sure this argument is all Ron’s fault for daring to go out with another girl. Hermione is totally blameless.

[Just in case: the essayist is being sarcastic, they’re pointing out the double standard of the HP fandom blaming Hermione’s immature behaviour on Ron.]

...

DEATHLY HALLOWS

...

“I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re good enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical. “You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years.” “There have?” asked Harry. Hermione looked exasperated: the expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

The commenter (?): Actually, I thought that Ron was proving the errors in the story. Because he’s right. The eldest brother didn’t die because the Elder Wand had corrupted him (like the One Ring). He died because he was an idiot. He died because he randomly decided to start blabbing about his new toy.

“You talk about wands like they’ve got feelings,” said Harry, “like they canthink for themselves.” “The wand chooses the wizard,” said Ollivander. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.” “A person can still use a wand that hasn’t chosen them, though?” asked Harry. “Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.”

The essayist: Harry’s wand has to think for and protect him because he’s too stupid and incompetent to think for and protect himself! Ollivander’s the expert, and he just admitted it. He said any halfway decent wizard can perform magic with almost any wand. The reason Harry could only work with the holly wand is because of the phoenix feather core it shares with Voldemort’s wand. That is, it wasn’t Harry doing the magic with Harry’s wand! It was the Voldemort soul piece! Once Harry was forced to use wands that didn’t have that core, the soul piece couldn’t do the work for Harry any more. He was forced to rely on his own magical powers and competence, which are clearly minimal. This is proven by his inability to do effective magic with any other wand. It’s also proven by an incident from Philosopher’s Stone. Remember when Harry was being chased by bullies and inexplicably found himself on top of the shed roof? That was the soul piece allowing him to fly like Voldy. Lily could slow her descent from a height, as if she had an invisible parachute, but that is not the same as flying, and we have no evidence she could fly. Only Voldemort and Snape fly without assistance! The evidence is overwhelming that I am right. How many spells can Harry do effectively? Expelliarmus, Expecto Patronum, Protego--that’s it. Even as a young adult, he is incapable of doing the basic healing or cleaning spells a young child should have down pat before going to Hogwarts. Of course, we’re told the Patronus spell is difficult and advanced, but who told us that? Remus Lupin, friend of Harry’s father, sycophant, and notorious liar, particularly when it comes to flattering Harry. Recall Lupin also said Snape didn’t like James because Snape was envious of Potter Sr.’s Quidditch prowess, and we know that was a lie. Given this evidence, anything Lupin says that cannot be confirmed by an independent source, especially regarding the Potters, should be dismissed out of hand. True, Hermione has trouble with the Patronus spell, and she’s super-competent. Doesn’t that prove it’s a very difficult spell? Not at all. To take an example from a different field, Beethoven was a virtuoso organist, the greatest pianist of his day, one of the greatest pianists in history, and probably the greatest improvisational musician ever. But he was only a decent violinist. Everybody has areas of weakness, no matter how good they are overall. In addition, Hermione is very gullible where authority figures are concerned. If a teacher tells her, “The Patronus is a very difficult, advanced spell that many people can’t ever master,” she’ll believe that, which may create a self-fulfilling prophecy. A couple of years ago, another DTCL member and I facetiously suggested Harry was less intelligent than his wand. We didn’t know we were right. It rarely happens, but this is an occasion when I would have preferred to be wrong.

...

If only there was a way of getting a better wand... And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swal-lowed him once more... They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermione’s flat disbelief nor Ron’s persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harry’s belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. [...] As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry’s descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. [...] But not until March did luck favor Ron at last.

The essayist: MARCH! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The first fifteen pages of this chapter cover three months, and during that entire time, Harry Potter does nothing, nothing, but sit on his ass fantasizing about the Elder Wand and trying to connect with his Voldie-soul mate. Oh, wait. He also tries to open the snitch so he can get the stone out of it. (Nothing gay about that, either.) I wish he’d succeed in that, too. Maybe he’d swallow the stone, and it would end up in his scrotum. He sure needs something that works down there. Harry doesn’t have the right to bail out on his society like this. He can’t have it both ways. He can’t have the adulation that goes with being Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-Chosen-One-Wizarding-World-Savior and abdicate the responsibilities that go along with those titles and that adulation. Look at what happens in this chapter: Harry becomes obsessed with finding and uniting the Hallows, so much so that he withdraws from his friends, bails out on the job his idol Dumbledore gave him, and spends all his time brooding and trying to connect with the Dull Lord. In other words, he acts clinically depressed. Ron and Hermione were exposed to the same information Harry was, but they didn’t become obsessed/depressed. Ron was mildly interested in the Super-Wand, but not enough to distract him from the Horcrux hunt. Hermione dismissed the whole DH story as nonsense and continued following Dumbestbore’s orders. So why weren’t they tempted?

...

The essayist: Harry opens the locket using Parseltongue--interesting that this never occurred to him before now--and two ghostly figures emerge. They’re Voldie-versions of Harry and Hermione, and they articulate Ron’s worst fears: “Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter...Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend...Second best, always, eternally overshadowed...” I’ll say it again: When you’re right, you’re right. The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children. And if Rowling doesn’t want us to ship HP/HG, she needs to quit throwing them together and making them leaders, with Ron either in the background or absent entirely. JKR obviously wants us to automatically dismiss certain statements just because they’re made by “bad guys” such as Voldemort and Rita Skeeter. There are two problems with this: (1) The “lies” make perfect sense, far more sense than what we’re supposed to believe. (2) Even pathological liars sometimes tell the truth, typically when it won’t hurt their own interests to do so. For those of us who live in what cartoonist Garry Trudeau calls “the reality-based community,” the evidence is what matters, not what we’re told by authority figures. Those of us in the higher stages of spiritual development are funny that way.

...

The essayist: Well, whose fault is that, Ms. Rowling? You’re the one who’s spent the last four books making Ron dumber and dumber, depriving him of any meaningful activity, while you shoved Harry and Hermione into increasingly dominant roles.

The commenter: Are we supposed to look down on Ron now so that we can condemn him for leaving Harry and Hermione? Because if so, then that’s just unfair. Every time Ron tries to come up with an idea, Hermione criticizes him or shoots him down. And the twins have done a fine job of intimidating Ron into remaining mediocre and modest so that he doesn’t remind them of Percy, so what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to come up with ideas when he’s surrounded by people who basically tell him to shut up and sit down?

The essayist: Just then, Hermione comes out of the tent with cups of tea, with tears running down her face and looking terrified her “friend” is going to curse her with her own wand.

The commenter: So, Hermione will snarl at Ron all day long, but cower in fear when Harry gets mad. Is she projecting herself onto Harry and assuming that just because *she’s* quick to hex people who anger her (Ron, Marietta, etc.), Harry will do the same to her?

The essayist: The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children.

The commenter: And blatantly showed favoritism to Harry while snarling at Ron in the same breath. Of course, Horcrux!Tom doesn’t bring that up, because JKR would have to admit that there might be something wrong with Molly favoring Harry the way she does. The essayist: Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron.

The commenter: Yeah…sorry, it’s not “slapstick” anymore when somebody actually has to stop her from hitting Ron. When Harry feels that the situation is dangerous enough that his intervention is necessary. That’s not funny. That’s a true-crime episode. What gets me is that Hermione's tantrum lasts for days. It goes on for several pages into the next chapter. She doesn't start acting normal again until she comes up with the idea of visiting Xeno Lovegood. The essayist: Hermione tells Ron she still hasn’t ruled out attacking him with birds again.

The commenter: *flatly* So, all of the fans who cooed about how “great” it was for Hermione to show “girl power” by sending Ron to the hospital wing in HBP or breezily dismissed the scene as just tired teenage melodrama? Can put a sock in it. Hermione has clearly learned nothing, JKR clearly feels that that scene was funny, and at no point are we supposed to think that Hermione is an abuser. Even though, if the genders were reversed, fans would be calling for Ron’s head on a platter if he dared lay a finger on Hermione. No. This isn’t funny. This isn’t charming. Hermione hurt Ron so badly in HBP that he had to go to the hospital wing. And she tried to repeat the damage she caused here. Is she going to attack him with birds again after they get married? Is she going to do it in front of their children? Will it be “cute” and “funny” then? No, if a man is an abusive monster for losing his temper and trying to hurt his girlfriend, then Hermione is an abusive monster for losing her temper and trying to hurt her boyfriend. Not only did Hermione land Ron in the infirmary with the first attack, but she wants to do it again at a time when they are on the run. She will NOT be able to take an injured Ron to Hogwarts infirmary, nor to St. Mungos. In other words - she intends for him to remain injured and stick with them while camping, or else he must apparate away while injured, risking another splinching so he could be healed.

...

The essayist: Ron and Harry go back to the tent, and Harry fades into the background so as not to interfere with the lovers’ reunion. That’s a mistake. After Harry wakes Hermione, she shows her delight at Ron’s return by--attacking him? She punches him over a dozen times while yelling at him and screaming for her wand from Harry. Remember last chapter, when I talked about how immature Hermione is? Here’s your proof.

[The essayist quotes an article that I haven’t been able to find, but paraphrased: it speaks of a father who came to pick up his 4 y/o daughter from daycare, a little later than usual, and the daughter reacted by punching and hitting her father, upset at his being late. Additional read: “The parents must know that physical aggression is a common yet natural problem faced by toddlers.”]

The essayist: So there you have it: Hermione Granger, know-it-all supergirl, is so immature she acts like a preschool child when the boyfriend she’s been missing finally returns. I’m not suggesting she has a father-daughter relationship with Ron; this kind of anger is found in other relationships, too. What I am saying is that her way of expressing her anger is appropriate for a very young child. While adults may certainly feel this kind of anger and desire to hit when reunited with a loved one under similar circumstances, they don’t act it out. That restraint is what separates adults from children. Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron. I frankly found her behavior so out of control as to suggest mental instability. She engages in two full pages of histrionics before throwing herself into a chair, sitting so tensely I’m surprised the circulation isn’t cut off to her arms and legs. She remains in a bratty snit until the end of the chapter, which is another six pages. Hermione is still pouting the next morning. I’m wondering if her real problem is not that Ron left, but that she didn’t. Is she angry at him because he had the guts to admit they were blowing it and take a time out, while she just kept trailing along after Harry like a lost house elf? I think she’s definitely mad because she’s always controlled Ron and their relationship. How dare he assert his independence of her! Who does he think he is? Her equal? In an AU, maybe. This is called the Potterverse after all, not the Ronverse. Hermione’s having a bad month. First Ron runs out on them; then she saves Harry’s life, but he’s an ungrateful jerk about it; then Harry asserts his independence; then Ron comes back but doesn’t grovel sufficiently for her taste. All this mistreatment is going to give her the idea she’s just a normal character and not an Author’s Darling. While Ron was gone, he was captured by bad guys called Snatchers, who are bounty hunters for Voldemort. In getting away, he got a spare wand, which he gives to Harry. Of course, it doesn’t work as well as Harry’s “real” wand, so Harry’s still in a snit about that, and with Hermione in a snit, too, they’re a cheerful bunch. Honestly, I don’t know why Ron puts up with these two. The Hs are so spoiled and self-centered, they deserve each other, but I don’t think this is what HP/HG shippers mean when they proclaim the two as an OTP. Sane, normal Ron doesn’t deserve either one of them. Run, Ron! Run while you still can!

...

The essayist: As an interesting aside, ròn is the Celtic word for seal. In Druid lore, seals represent love, longing, and dilemma. No more appropriate totem animal could be imagined for this boy whose sense of selfhood is undermined by his longing for love from a rejecting mother and inadequate father, and who, like the selchie wives of folklore, is faced with the impossible choice of being who he truly is and being rejected, or denying the best part of himself to gain love. Ron’s intelligence and independence threaten his insecure wife (and best friend), just as the selchie’s identity as a seal-woman threatens her human husband; Ron imprisons himself by hiding who he is so the Hs can feel smart and in charge, just as the selchie’s human husband imprisons his wife by hiding her sealskin in a trunk.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #hermione critical #hermione granger critical #harry potter #harry potter series #harry potter critical

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uwuwriting · 5 years ago

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Maybe pregnant hcs for Todoroki, Iida, Shinsou and Amajiki???💓💓💓💓💓

-Ohoho!!!! This right here just melts my hurt. Even thinking about it makes me weak.Plus a little heads up, everyone is having daughters cause I’m weak to the knees with the thought of these four and their babygirls so be prepared. Hope I don’t disappoint.💖💖💖

*All characters are aged up so around the ages of 20-25 and up*

Todoroki Shouto

-You and Shouto have been together since your second year in UA.

-You got married when you both got well acquainted with the hero life and now live a happy , yet busy, life in an apartment near his mom’s house.

-We know that this boy would want his family to be close to him and the fact that you get along with everyone fills his heart with so much love.

-You two never really talked about children.

-Maybe a few suggestions of having a child in the future but nothing serious.

-Que the morning sickness.

-Shouto was really worried about you, I mean look at you.

-You’re emptying your guts in the toilet every single morning.

-You can’t eat most foods that you used to like and have a weird craving for tuna yogurt?!

-He doesn’t want to leave the house, he even convinced you to take some days off and try to relax.

-Give your body rest.

-He promised to get some days off himself to take care of you.

-You had your suspicions, tbh.

-You just didn’t tell him.

-Whether that was to not get his hopes up or to post pone the heartbreak you didn’t really know.

-So what if you were mildly panicking over the fact that the 5 pregnancy tests you just took were all positive.

-It was the first day of your mini ‘vacation’ and thankfully Shouto had been called in today.

-Because you’re panicking and legit losing your shit over this, you call....Rei.

-Okay maybe it wasn’t the best course of action considering you were on the verge of cardiac arrest, but what can you do.

-You asked her if she was home and if you could stop by.

-Of course she said yes, delighted to see you and mentioned that Fuyumi was also going to stop by in around an hour.

-You made your way to her house, arriving just as Fuyumi was pulling into the drive way.

-After greeting each other and going inside, you took your seats in the living room and waited for Rei to make some tea.

-Fuyumi was going on and on about what the kids at the kindergarten were doing and how cute some of them were being.

-Neither of the Todoroki women had missed your puffy eyes or how your smile would constantly waver, but they decided to let you tell them on your own accord.

-Once Rei joined you in the living room, they both turned to you.

- “So how have you been Y/n, dear?” Rei said watching you really closely.

-You looked down, feeling hot tears starting to form in your eyes and your throat tightening painfully.

-Fuyumi moved closer to you while Rei draped an arm around your shoulders which were shacking at the moment.

- “I-I’m p-pregnant.” it was barely a whisper, but they heard it alright.

-Mom mode activated 2x.

-They reassured you that everything was going to be fine and how lucky you are.

-They repeatedly said how excited Shouto will be and what of a push over of a dad he would become.

-After 4 long hours of baby talk, you returned home, collapsing on the sofa before passing out for a good 3 hour nap.

-When you woke up, Shouto was home and sitting next to you weaving his fingers absentmindedly through your hair.

- “Hey there sleepyhead.”

-How could his voice be so soft!?!?

-You buried your face into the blanket, which really confused him, I mean...what did he do?

- “We have a problem...” pause....awkward silence.... “I’m pregnant.”

-*Windows noises*

-After the mild stroke, he lifted you up so you were looking at him and just stared at you.

-Those seconds that he just looked at you felt like eternity.

-The torture ended however, when he lowered his head to your stomach and lifting your shirt, placed a small kiss right under your belly button.

- “Hey there, snowflake. Nice to meet you.”

-And with that, 9 exhausting months started full of mood swings, weird cravings, back rubs and a never ending list of baby names.

-You two learned you were having twins on your fifth appointment, but you decided to keep the gender a surprise.

-On a cold January night your two girls were brought into the world and it was one of the few times you had seen Endeavour and Natsuo in the same room bawling their eyes out.

-Your white haired baby was named Rei *after her grandmother* while your mixed red and h/c babygirl Ren.

-When Shouto held them for the first time, you thought he was going to have a mental breakdown.

-He’s a total push over and your girls are daddy’s girls to the core.

-He’s the best dad they could ask for.

Iida Tenya

-You and Tenya have been married for 6 years now and have been trying endlessly for a baby.

-You both agreed that you were ready for the responsibility and that having a little Tenya running around the house sounded like a great idea.

-Saying that you were exhausted form the attempts was an understatement.

-Tenya had incredible stamina and even more libido, so you can safely assume that during the week long process of baby making you couldn’t walk straight.

-However, your little shenanigans stopped when your doctor delivered you the news.

-You had been hit by a blood related quirk while dealing with a villain and had to get a check up afterwards.

-You were given a scolding the moment you saw your doctor because why aren’t you in desk duty you RASCAL!?

-You were confused beyond belief and it was written all over your face.

- “You don’t know do you?”

-Le sigh.

- “Mrs. Iida I’m happy to announce you that you’re expecting, so that means you are to be put in desk duty for the next 4 months or else I’m making sure you don’t leave the house for a good 9 months.”

-You. Were. Ecstatic.

-You ran to Tenya’s agency, bringing down the damned door to his office giving the man a heart attack.

- “Y/n what’s-”

- “I’M PREGNANT!”

-Que ecstatic air chopping.

-Tenya went into full dad mode during those 9 months.

-Buttt he’s also kinda nervous.

-Nervous like Tamaki in a crowd level nervous.

-You get the image.

-You have anything you want whenever you want it.

-The nursery is done the moment you find out you are having a gilr.

-Unlike Todoroki he isn’t patient enough to keep the gender a secret.

-When the day arrives, you’re just chilling outside with him when you nonchalantly blurt out ‘my waters broke’.

-....oh...oH.....OHSHIIIIIIIT.

- “WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?! GET UP! ARE YOU IN PAIN? CAN YOU WALK!?”

-This goes on until you are screaming and crushing his hand in the delivery room.

-Your little girl is born and she’s a carbon copy of Tenya.

-Same colored hair and eyes.

-The face structure looks like you.

-She has your nose and mouth, along with your eyebrows but apart from that she’s a mini genderbend Tenya.

-Because she was born early in the morning you decided to change her name and so little Asami Tenya was officially a part of this world.

-Tenya cried.

-You cried.

-Asami cried.

-You were one happy crying family.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-You and Hitoshi have been together for two years now, but you haven’t put a ring on it.

-Sure you live together and act like a married couple already but you’re not Mrs.Shinsou.....yet.

-You have been feeling strange for days now and your period was late which never happens.

-You are panicking but unlike Shouto you two aren’t married.

-He can leave with almost no complications.

-You were his girlfriend not his wife.

-The pregnancy tests you had taken were mocking you from the bathroom sink and your poor hormone ridden mind couldn’t handle the stress.

-You cried a river until you heard keys jiggling and HItoshi’s iconic ‘Kitten, I’m home!’

-You couldn’t face him like this.

-In a haste you shoved the tests into the laundry basket along with their packages and covered them with some sheets.

-Fixing your hair and washing your face, you straightened and walked out the door.

-After greeting Hitoshi with a kiss you calmly told him to go get ready while you made him something to eat.

-Your mind was running laps thinking how you could tell him or how you could solve your little problem as quietly as possible.

-That is until he walked in holding what seemed to be a box.

-A pregnancy test box.

-HOW CAN YOU BE BLIND?

- “Y/n, what’s this?”pause “Are you..?”

-Anddd more crying.

-You sobbed about how sorry you were and how you couldn’t explain how it happened.

-Both of you were so careful, how did this happen???

-After a good 15 minutes of you bawling your eyes out on the kitchen floor while Hitoshi was trying to calm you down, you finally stopped at the sound of his chuckle.

- “Well, damn kitten, your surprise definitely beat mine.”

-Then he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and watched you closely.

-Now you are Mrs.Shinsou.

-These 9 months weren’t as bad as you would expect.

-Hitoshi was really good at giving you everything you wanted and during the whole pregnancy you didn’t lift a finger.

-One October night your waters broke and you found yourself in a long procedure of bringing your child into the world.

-Hitoshi was a wreck and had called Aizawa for emotional support who called Hizashi who called Midnight.

-Once you were finished, Hitoshi rushed into your room and found you utterly exhausted.

-He was the first to hold your baby and you have never seen him cry this much in your life.

- “Hello my little Kei.”

-Kei Shinsou was a happy little girl with an amazing father by her side.

Amajiki Tamaki

-Ah love.

-Something Tamaki found during high school and held onto it ever since.

-Now a well known pro hero, Suneater was more than happy with his life with you.

-He always wanted a little something more but never expressed it.

-He loved the idea of having a mini you running around the living room or waking him up in the morning with little squeals and kisses.

-He loved you to the moon and back, more than life itself but having a kid with you sparked a whole new sensation in him.

-So he tried to be sly about it.

-Forgetting the condoms or to pull out.

-You not being able to find your pills.

-A whole lot of fun.

-You were newly weds and your libidos were high af and with the prospect of children on the table Tamaki became 10x more driven and horny.

-So you weren’t all that surprised when your doctor gave you the news.

-You had gone for a plain old check up when he came into the room with a bright smile on his face and congratulations falling like a waterfall from his mouth.

-Once back home you put your plan in motion.

-You had a feeling Tamaki was trying to knock you up for some time now.

-He couldn’t forget to pull out every time like come on.

-But you were fine with it since you too wanted a kid with him.

-You just would’ve liked a little heads up first.

-You made your little bun and put it in the oven.

-And waited.

-Until finally Tamaki walked through the door, a smile gracing his features as he made his way to you.

- “Hey bunny.”

-Giving him a quick peck you told him to check the oven real quick to make sure the food was all good.

-He obliged, walking to the kitchen and seeing the sole bun sitting in the oven.

-He was beyond confused on why you would only make one bun in the oven and not more, I mean you are two peop- ohhhh.

-OH.

-He did it.

-He let the news settle in before going back to you.

- “Are you sure?” nod “100% sure?” another nod.

-At that he fell to his knees in front of you, attacking your stomach with kisses and I love yous.

-To whom they were directed you couldn’t actually tell but you were happy either way.

-Calls the baby butterfly.

-Makes the whole nursery along with Mirio who is ecstatic.

-Butterfly themed baby room.

-Expect many back and belly rubs along with Tamaki coming home early because Fatgum cannot allow him to stay at work when he’s preparing for a baby.

-When your waters break you are buying some onesies with small octopuses on them.

-You have never been taken to the hospital so fast in your whole hero career.

-After many painful and stressful hours, your baby girl is born and she’s stunning.

-She has Tama’s ears and hair but your eyes and nose.

-She’s a perfect mix.

-The Big 3 cry as a team.

-When she’s given to him, Tamaki just cry laughs at how gorgeous she’s.

-Many thank yous are exchanged.

- Cho Amajiki.

-Tamaki cannot stop repeating the name even after they have taken her away.

-He curls on the chair next to you, holding your hand the whole night, falling into a deep sleep, imaging his new life with his little butterfly.

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kth1 · 4 years ago

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why do you like taegi the most?

i’ve had this ask sitting in my inbox for a hot minute because i wanted to be able to respond when i had the time to lay out a novel. maybe... i don’t know how long this will be but here we go bubs. thank you for asking in advance!

for starters... kim taehyung.

my ultimate. the man that choses me no matter what i did. i admire him, aspire to be more like him, and adore him to all extremes. from his younger years and to present years, this guy really sticks out with personality for me. (yes he’s attractive but like, it’s really the personality that makes me coo). i could actually feel a vibe/energy toward taehyung in which in some sort of mystical au where i could meet him, i feel like i’d connect with him very well (you can disagree, idc). this is just my perception. yes, he’s a lump of an enigma and that’s exactly what i like about him. you never fully know what you’re getting with tae besides the fact that you know you don’t know what you’re going to get! the element of him being spontaneous and can reach all ends of the spectrum from animation really appeals to me. deep down, i feel like he is a very sensitive soul, things bother him quiet often but he masks. and with that mask he makes a great conversationalist because i believe he knows how to be appropriate with pushing back biased thoughts to be able to hear out others - however i feel like he runs into people who don’t understand or are willing to hear him out in return. sure he has trouble expressing things from time to time, but i think it’s because of the emotions and thoughts that course through him are nondefinitive. you have to know and learn tae to get and understand tae. (not disregarding any of the others when i speak this, btw) he is honestly, truly amazing in my eyes and that’s probably one of the main reasons why i feel toward him the most. he can be soft, cuddly, and kind. he as an earth sign supports the stereotypes of down to earth, wise, and also ambitious. also, tae can pull out some ruthless, playful, tactics out of left field because that’s just how he is - and we love all sides of him (or what he wants to show us). his constant creativeness is enjoyable, how many times does tae want to go against the standard? nearly all the time! and he pulls it off! because i feel like tae doesn’t fully care to be the same, he wants to be himself. and that’s so utterly sexy of him you have no idea. (again, you can disagree with me) but sometimes i personally feel like i can be very similar to tae in many ways, with thoughts, feelings, and creative drives. i feel we both attempt to put on our fronts, try to remain humble and respectful. understand we are just humans and we are the same. and also can be quick to call out the suspicious acts so bluntly because our bullshit meter is always running. not to mention, both he and i enjoying being dramatically extra for no apparent reason sometimes. this is how i conclude the fermented idea in my mind that maybe, just maybe, i would make a great friend with tae if i ever had a chance.

mr. min yoongi.

this many radiates comfort and i feel like he’s super trustworthy. yoongi is the type of person i feel like i could spill all my beans in front of, not matter how heated, sad, or excited i may be, and he’d openly accept it all. his level of patience is something i strive to have. the way he’s so witty and sharp tongued, smart, and ready to stir the pot from time to time to challenge against you is something i find remarkable and again - enjoyable. in the nicest of ways, yoongi can easily tell you how it is... and if you push the wrong buttons he can probably easily tell you how it be with more tone and harsher words. however, yoongi is straight-forward majority of the time, something i am like as well. he is a pisces with virgo moon so i feel real bad with the inner battles his brain probably constantly undergoes, all those hidden thoughts he doesn’t want to reveal to most. i feel that yoongi has such a massive intuition, a general 6th sense about him. in many occasions, i also see myself with similar personality as yoongi. those ‘tsundere’ vibes, introverted, keeps to ourselves, and randomly once we’re comfortable we ‘act out’ and surprise everyone, but they think it’s funny/cute, etc. yoongi (here i go with my delulu au’s where maggie is y/n) would be the type of person i look up to and always want to talk to - to tell him about what’s bothering me. even if i feel like im boring or annoying, i feel like i’d be able to open up to him fast because i just have that confidence and belief to him. in most cases, he acts in a calmly manner. whereas, once i loose my cool i come out very heated an aggressive because i cannot hold back as much as he can - another thing i wish i was more like. the natural, effortless and relaxed aspect of yoongi, is also very very attractive (all yoongi bias’ are going to agree to this one) but there is no lie when i speak this. he doesn’t showboat, he doesn’t parade around saying he’s the best and have a large ass ego. he is just yoongi who is doin’ himself. we like this shit. you do you booboo!

taegi as a whole:

yes, completely super in love with the friendship of taegi. yes, mainly because these two take all my food from my table and bid me goodnight. however, i love all the friendships between members!!! but because im a taegi fanatic because of the likeness i have to bother individuals, i will comment on their bond bc i love it. golly, where do i start? hm, for beginners... let’s just remember how taegi would typically have the most conflicting ideas, resulting in the most funny scenarios whenever they sometimes were paired up in games or something. (like holding hands because they disagree??? cute) how yoongi - to this day - tends to have a hard time changing tae’s mind / saying no to tae because tae is a wee bit stubborn and want to do / try things out. when tae always wants to be yoongi’s hype man, enjoy yoongi’s rap, verses, highest key is trying to take over all of yoongi’s parts in each rapping song because skrrt skrrt! together, taegi is very touching to me. tae admires and looks up to yoongi in so many ways, and yoongi shows such a concern in undertones towards tae is endearing. like, you can’t tell me this friendship ain’t cute. i would politely throat chop you and call you a fool. yes i’m hella biased, i know this, however i don’t care what you say against me because it is what i like to see and crave a bond like these two beans! taegi; two fun-filled people who are honest, deep, and most importantly... they are true. (not saying anyone is ‘fake’, please shake that thought from your head!!!) im saying like, true in the sense of real people. an archaic expression of being true to oneself, yourself, others, etc. they are true to most of everything (in my mind). both of these two are very commendable and you can learn a lot through them!

this concludes my maggie rants for now. please come by another time after i recharge! i know i haven’t touched every single thing about each category, i know i have more to say but just don’t know how to say it or can’t bring all the thoughts to the table for now. thank you to the anon who prompted this question. and also thanks to whoever ends up reading this response! again, i love all the members in their own special ways! i don’t intend to disregard others but this ask caters to my personal loves. <3

#ask #Anonymous #taegi

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Flock Together (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Appearances by Dabi, Shigaraki, and Mr. Compress

@dastfast678 requested: “Could you make a another LOV X child!reader, one where the hero's try to "recused" Y/N but they just tells them off?”

Genre: Slight angst

Word Count: 1,442

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request! I’m sorry it took so long to do...

Yes, the title is akin to the "birds of a feather" saying. I will also tell you guys that in this universe, if the League ever got caught before things blew up to as big as they've gotten in the manga, the villains would have pulled a Gentle Criminal for the reader. You’ll see why I say that later.

This is still in the same continuity as my other LoV posts, but it can also be a different one as well. Not that I’m planning anything for it, but I think it’s just nice to keep a similar timeline between some of my posts I guess.

Funny how I always end up running when I'm faced with important milestones. I ran when I realized my parents were gone right into the hands of people I thought were going to kill me. And they turned out to be much better than I expected, I have to say.

My former classmate at UA had found me while I was out to get food for the League. They were really craving pizza today and now I have to run. I'm gonna get an earful from them later for coming back late.

They were gonna find me eventually, I should've been prepared. I never even thought of the excuse I was going to use when they inevitably did.

A hand catches my shoulder and I almost scream, only to turn around and see Kaminari. Damnit, I thought he hadn't seen me. When I caught him walking the opposite way as me, I'd hoped I could get away before he realized it was me.

He smiles naturally. "Hey, (Y/n)! I thought I saw you walking around here!" Before I can say anything he grips me into a tight hug. "Gosh, we were all worried about you! Where have you been all this time?"

I pry his grip off of me gently. "I've just...been here, you know, living my life."

For a moment, Kaminari hesitates before he whines out an exhale. "Agh, I can't do this. (Y/n), they kinda sent me to...rescue you, because we had the best relationship."

I furrow my eyebrows "Rescue me?" Should've known. At least they didn't send Midoriya.

"Yeah, sorry about this."

Kaminari suddenly drags me by the arm into the nearest alley. "What the hell-!?" Soon I'm faced with two other figures, both of of them I know very well also. Damnit, they did send Midoriya.

"Before you say anything, no one else knows we're here, it's just us," Midoriya blurts out.

"I'm surprised Todoroki isn't here," I respond lamely, sighing at the mini intervention. "It's usually the two of you acting on whims together."

"It was my idea this time," Kaminari admits as he rubs the back of his neck. "The school's officially taking you off the roster and we at least wanted to look for you one last time."

My fist clenches and I look down. "I didn't know I'd be so missed."

"We were very worried about you! It's not becoming of a young hero-in-training to miss class!" Iida chops at the air. It's nice to know he hasn't changed much.

"How did you guys even know I was here?"

"That's not important," Midoriya answers quickly and takes a step towards me. Concern fills his face. "(Y/n), please come back. We don't know why you left, but we can sort it out."

I'm silent, holding his pleading gaze with my own icy stare. "You guys said no one else knows you're here. Keep it that way and leave. No one else needs to know where I am or what I'm doing." I turn to walk away.

"Are you with the League?" Kaminari's voice sounds broken, a stark contrast from his usual upbeat, dorky tone.

I'm taken aback by how he could've known that, but I brush it off. "That's none of your business."

He forces out a nervous laugh. "I think I get it, you want to stay and gather intell-"

"No, I'm staying because I want to stay." My conviction is firm. There's no point in denying it.

Iida pushes up his glasses. "It looks like they've brainwashed you, (Y/n)-san, this isn't like you. You were always so quiet-"

"Yeah, but you had no idea why!" I close my eyes and breath. It's not worth it to blow up and tell them everything that's happened, it's in the past and I'm working on resolving it myself. "I don't need to be a hero anymore, it won't solve my problems like I thought before."

"So you'd rather be a villain?! Taking innocent lives?!"

"I don't do any of that!" I snarl back at him.

"But you will eventually!"

"And I'll figure it out when the time comes!" Their faces fall. "They may be villains, but they've helped me so much more than when I was in UA! I feel safe with them. They're my new family, and I'm staying with them."

"Well, that's touching."

The boys in front of me stiffen at the voice behind me. I turn to see Shigaraki, Dabi, and Mr. Compress approaching in the darkness of the alleyway.

"We were wondering what was taking you so long, so we had to come check," the masked man haughtily explains, dropping a hand on top of my head. My former classmates go pale at the sight. They probably think he was going to hurt me.

"We meet again, Midoriya Izuku." Shigaraki's cracked lips turn up into a crazed smirk and Midoriya gulps.

"UA kids all alone, huh," Dabi comments. "What was their big plan? To come kidnap you back to them? They would have to do through us first." His palm lights up with blue flames. "I'm sure Toga would've liked to see this boy again."

"I've been dying to try my new trick on someone!" Compress waves his hands dramatically, a few marbles appearing between his fingers. "I've got the props all ready right here!"

"Don't hurt them," I say blankly. I don't have much power over them, but I can at least give my opinion. "It's not worth getting into a struggle with them now."

"(Y/n)'s right," Shigaraki sighs and buries his hands in his pockets. "Besides, my stomach's eating itself I'm so hungry. We can settle this another day."

The three of them start exiting and I want to follow behind them, but Kaminari catches my shoulder. "Are you really going with them? You chose them over us?" His crestfallen expression tugs at a soft spot in my chest, but I've already reached a point where it doesn't sway me.

I shrug him off. "You're lucky you're getting out of here without struggle because of me." My voice and my glare are icy toward each of them before I turn and follow the rest out of the alley. "The next time we see each other, we'll be on different sides. I hope you'll be prepared to see me again when it happens."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth as we leave the alleyway. It's not like I feel nothing for them, they were my former classmates after all. The regret I sometimes feel is something more akin to curiosity than anything. If I hadn't run into the League, where would I be? Would I be content the same way as I am now? Am I content? Is this the best I could be doing?

Did I make the right choice?

"Listen kid." Dabi hangs back a little since I'm falling behind from the rest of them. "I don't have the right to tell you what decision you should've made in your life or ask why you decided to live with a bunch of raggedy good-for-nothings like us," he looks up at the other two and leans over, "But if you wanted to walk away from all of this, you still can."

My eyes widen, and for a moment, all the memories of my time in the League come rushing back. All the laughs we shared, the late nights they helped me get through, playing games with them, the take out nights like these. They aren't my family, but it's the closest thing I have to something like that. Even the thought of leaving them leaves a devastating sinking feeling in my chest. "Never," I gasp, breath taken from me at the suggestion.

The man scans me, cocking an eyebrow. "You'd really rather be associated with lawbreakers just because we took you in?"

My face falls. "Is that a bad thing?"

He pauses, not having anything to say to that, and there's a trace of shock in his features. His face relaxes and he clasps his hands behind his neck casually. "I guess you really do fit with us, you've got issues."

I can't help but smile at his words; it's the closest I'll get to him explicitly admitting his appreciation for me. "I don't think it's the issues, it's the broken-ness."

"No kid, you're just weird." His large, burnt hand plops on top of my head as he sighs. "Ah, we're gonna have to move hideouts again. I was actually liking this place."

"The pizza here is most delicious!" Compress pipes up in agreement.

"Ugh, this is why we can't have nice things, you guys always ruin it," Shiguraki groans. "Goodbye, delicious and crunchy thin crust pizza..."

"Oh, don't be a drama queen," Dabi rolls his eyes.

Well, regardless of if this was a correct decision, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. All this might be worth all the trouble I'll get into in the future.

#league of villians x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #shigaraki tomura #mr compress #request #slight angst #platonic #gender neutral reader #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

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Can i ask for teen pregnancy with Sirius being pregnant, doesnt matter if trans or abo. It could be fluff or angst, but about how they would face the problem, would they be happy having a baby young or abort the baby.

((A/N: Fyi, they don't come to a conclusion in this fic. They talk lots and bring up different issues, but they don't decide on anything. This is trans, pregnant Sirius, and (in accordance with the prompt) is a teen pregnancy))

"I am going to commit a murder," Sirius said to himself, staring down at the results from his last hospital visit. The only saving grace in this situation was that his parents hadn't cared enough to ask why he wanted to get a checkup.

"Should I be worried?" Regulus asked, leaning against the doorway.

Sirius startled, hiding the parchment behind his back. "Whatever happened to knocking?"

"Your door was open."

"You should've knocked anyway," Sirius said, even though he knew it was a ridiculous thing to request. Open door meant they didn't have to ask for permission, and that had been the rule for as long as he could remember.

"Uh-huh," Regulus said flatly. "What are you hiding?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that? If I'm hiding something, I'm clearly hiding it for a reason."

"I was hoping that you were hiding it from our parents and not me."

"Well, in this case, I'm hiding it from all of you."

"Does your precious boyfriend count as part of this group?"

Sirius glared at him, hand tightening on the parchment. "Did you need something?"

"Not if you're going to be in such a shite mood."

"Then leave," he said, waving a hand like he could sweep him from the room.

Regulus huffed and rolled his eyes, but he left. He also closed Sirius's door as he went, likely to prove his point about the open door thing.

That was actually a good point. Sirius hadn't closed his door earlier since he'd assumed that the parchment was going to tell him that nothing was wrong and he should just wait it out until he felt normal again-- it's what usually happened when he went to hospital though, which is why he didn't do it very often.

He walked over and locked it, then went back and sat on his bed. Then he read the parchment again.

Pregnant, approximately fourteen weeks. Please schedule a prenatal appointment at your earliest convenience.

He had to talk to James. He folded the parchment and stuck it in his pocket, then shoved his shoes on and headed downstairs. "Hey Dad? I'm going to the Potter's."

"Okay," he said absently, then he looked up. "Everything fine with your hospital results?"

"I'll be fine," Sirius answered, because he would be. It might take a year or so, depending on his post-pregnancy recovery, but he'd be fine.

"Mm." Father looked back down at the newspaper. "Have a good time."

"Thanks," Sirius said, and he continued heading for the floo. It was a good thing his parents only cared about his life in the vague sense that as long as he was alive, they were fine with him doing anything.

He stepped out of the Potter's floo, casting a look around the room. James liked to lounge in there sometimes, so there had been a chance that he wouldn't have to go looking for him and risk running into his parents. Not that the Potter parents were bad. In fact, they were wonderful, but they were unfortunately more involved in their son's life than Sirius's own parents ever bothered to be. If they saw Sirius there, obviously upset, they'd ask, and Sirius, as a general rule, didn't like to lie. He wouldn't be able to brush them off as easily as he'd done to his father.

Sirius chewed on his lip and thought about heading home or just going to Diagon Alley and walking around for a while, but he did need to talk to James about this. And Merlin knew that he'd prefer to get this over and done with than agonize over it all by himself.

He headed to the backyard, assuming that if James wasn't doing his schoolwork for the summer, then he'd be flying. As luck would have it, he didn't run into either of his parents, and James was indeed on his broom in the backyard. It didn't take a full minute for James to notice him standing there, and he flew down to greet him with a bright grin.

"Hey," he said, broom in one hand and grabbing Sirius in a hug with the other. "This is a pleasant surprise."

He moved to pull away, but Sirius tightened his hold so that he couldn't go anywhere.

"Everything okay?" James asked, leaning his broom against the wall so he could hug Sirius back properly.

"I dunno," Sirius said honestly. Was it bad news? He wasn't certain. Was it good news? Well, he wasn't feeling butterflies, that's for sure. It was big news, and he didn't know what he was going to do about it, much less how he felt, so he couldn't be a good judge of if the situation was okay or not.

James didn't push for more information, letting Sirius hug him for as long as he wanted.

As much as Sirius would've liked to stay that way for an hour or so, he did have to do what he came here to do. He let go and pulled the parchment out of his pocket, handing it to James.

James unfolded it, eyes running over the words as he read. It was obvious the exact moment he reached the important information, because he froze. "You're pregnant?"

"Apparently."

"But," James looked up at him, "how's that possible? I mean, we used protection."

"Yeah, but not every time. We did forget once or twice, remember? And we thought 'what's the worst that could happen'?"

"A good reason not to get sloshed before fooling around, I guess," James muttered, looking back down at the parchment.

"Yeah."

"So... am I, like, coming with you to your appointment? When's it for?"

Sirius blinked. "You think I'm much more prepared than I am. I- sodding hell, James, I found out and came straight here."

"Oh. So you don't know what you're doing?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Do you want to figure it out together or do you just want me here for, like, moral support?"

"Oh, you're helping me figure this out. This is your fault, too. You can't weasel out of the decision making."

"I wasn't aware I was trying to weasel out of anything," James said, smiling slightly.

"I was being preemptive."

James leaned in, giving him a slow, sweet kiss. "We'll figure it out. You want to talk about it know or get something to eat?"

"If I say I'm craving ice cream, will you make some sort of pregnancy joke?"

"Er, not if you don't want me to. Non-pregnant people like ice cream too."

"I suppose that's true," Sirius conceded. He felt a lot more sensitive these days, but at least now he knew why. "Don't tell your parents yet, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. But I mean, how long are we going to try and not tell people? We can't keep something like this hidden for long." He grabbed his broom, and they headed inside.

"Not... very long," Sirius hedged. "Just until we know what we're doing."

"No offense, but what's plan B? Neither of us know anything about pregnancy or babies or giving birth. If we wait until we know what we're doing, you'll have given birth by the time we get around to telling anyone."

"You're making this harder than it needs to be."

James shrugged apologetically. "I didn't mean to. I'm just worried. We can handle most things by ourselves, but this is sort of out of our league, don't you think?"

"Are you kidding? Of course it's out of our league, but I need to know if I'm keeping the baby or not before I start asking people for advice on how to do it."

"Sirius, darling, did I mishear, or are you pregnant?" Mrs. Potter said, making Sirius jump.

Sirius and James both turned to face her with wide eyes. "Erm." There was no graceful way out of this one. He really should've taken a look to make sure they were still alone, but he hadn't thought about it.

Mrs. Potter, because she was a kind woman, took in their shocked and somewhat frightened expressions, and said, "I'm guessing you didn't want anyone to know yet."

Sirius gave a tight nod. If she told his parents... well, he wasn't exactly sure what would happen, but he'd like to be the one to share the news, when the time came. If the time came. After all, if they decided not to have a kid right now, then telling them he was pregnant wasn't really important.

"Okay. I'll pretend I didn't hear a thing." She turned to leave, then paused. "However, if you had any questions, I wouldn't mind answering them, and you know that I wouldn't judge either of you, right?"

Sirius nodded again, not quite as stressed as the last one had been. Then, because that seemed insincere, he said, "I know. Thank you."

Mrs. Potter smiled and left the room so they were alone again.

"Bloody hell," James muttered. "I thought for sure she was going to lecture me about being irresponsible. I think it's because you were around. She really likes you, you know."

"I know," Sirius said with a smarmy grin. Then he got worried again. "I know that she said she wouldn't tell, but what if-"

"But nothing," James interrupted.

"I guess," he said, sighing.

"Ice cream?"

"Please."

They walked to the kitchen and James scooped a bowl for each of them, but he gave Sirius a much larger portion. Then he grabbed sprinkles, because Sirius liked his ice cream with a bit of crunch. He put one bowl and the sprinkles in front of Sirius where he was sat at the table, then grabbed his own bowl and sat down next to him. He gave it a couple spoonfuls before he said anything. "So do you want to keep the baby? I know you've mentioned wanting kids."

"Yeah." Sirius took his spoon and chopped at the ice cream. "It's not like I had any career plans for after Hogwarts, so it wouldn't be the worst thing if I had a kid right now." He stopped poking at the ice cream and sighed. "To be perfectly honest, I always thought that I'd have to convince you to have kids before we're thirty. You've got so many plans for what you want to do, you know? I know it sounds regressive or- whatever, but I want a family of my own. I want to run a household. I have a couple ideas for how to spend my time before all that happens, but it's not like they were dreams or summat."

"So you'd really be happy being a father this young?"

He played with his ice cream some more. "I think so. Wouldn't you?"

"Equal parts happy and terrified. Aren't you worried about doing it wrong?"

"A... little," Sirius said, frowning. "But it's normal nerves; I wouldn't describe myself as terrified. That'll probably come later, when the kid actually pops out. I think that's normal, though."

James didn't say anything for a while, mulling it over. He finished off his ice cream, gave it a few more seconds then said, "It sounds like you want to give this a try."

"I do," Sirius said immediately, "but there's so much to think about. You and me, for one. We still live with our parents. We're not married. I think trying to move out and have a baby at the same time would be a disaster. The sort of disaster where I yell at you for leaving your socks around or summat, and we never get better. And what about school? I wouldn't be able to finish my seventh year, and yeah I don't plan on going on to be an apprentice or a professor, but I'd still like to graduate."

"Mum might be able to answer that one. And we could both live here, couldn't we? I doubt my parents would mind. Dad's been telling me that he'd like it if I stuck around for a few years after I graduate, anyways. Not to mention, with how much they like you, they'd probably be over the moon if you were here all the time."

"I'm not going to assume that."

"We can ask." He saw Sirius tense up a little at that, so he revised it. "Or I can ask. My parents, our house, after all. If we were talking about living in your place, I would sort of expect for you to ask."

He expected for Sirius to agree, but instead, he shook his head. "We're in this together, so we should ask together."

"And that's only if you decide that you'd rather put off kids for a couple years. I mean, we don't have to rush this, but we don't have to wait another ten years either. If the only thing that's worrying you is school, then we could start trying to have a kid after we graduate. Or if it's the living situation, we could move in together after we graduate, and then give it a year so that we know how to be together when we're not still living with our parents. This isn't an all or nothing situation."

"That's true," Sirius said, adding more sprinkles to his bowl and stirring it all together. "I just- this might sound horrible, but I don't want to wait. I still want to graduate without worrying about making all my classes, but I don't want to put off having a kid because of it." He sighed, shoulders hunching in slightly like he needed to protect himself.

James chewed on the inside of his cheek, stomach churning. It's not like he disagreed with Sirius's decision for his life, but, "I don't know if I'm ready to be a father. I know that we've talked about it before, but I thought I'd have a couple years to get ready-- read parenting books and shite, y'know? I don't want to be a bad husband or a bad father, and I'm just- I'm sodding terrified, Sirius. What if we have a kid now and we're not ready? I'm not saying no," he added quickly, "but I'm worried."

"I know what you mean; I'm worried too. Again, I think it's normal, but if you disagree, you can talk to your mum about it. Hopefully she'll be able to tell us."

"Yeah. I'm sure it's a good thing that she found out so she can answer some questions, but I'm still... I dunno," Sirius said with a sigh. "I have so many questions, and they're all twisted around each other. Like, do I really need to know about where we'd live if there's no way for me to graduate early or take my exams late? Because if I can't do that, then I wouldn't need to know about where we'd live, but there's no point in asking about exams unless we have a plan in place for where we'd go from there. And even if there was something in place for me, what about you? I wouldn't want to have the baby and then you go back to Hogwarts every day for classes."

"So we should see if we can both graduate early," James said, but Sirius shook his head.

"I'm not going to ask you to do that. Besides, what about Moony and Wormtail? They'll die if we both vanish."

James was about to say that their friends would be perfectly fine without their presence, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't know how he had missed it before-- likely he was too busy from his own thoughts about Sirius being pregnant and the possibility of raising a baby within the year-- but Sirius didn't want answers right now; he wanted to talk about every eventuality and complain. The solution would come later. "Well, to be fair, anyone would die if they suddenly had to live without you."

"Don't think you'll make me feel better by flattering me," Sirius said, but it was obvious that he was fighting a smile.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #sirius black #james potter #no voldemort au #filled #established relationship #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 5 years ago

Text

feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling

summary: requested: andy barber being obsessed with the thought of reader being pregnant and wanting nothing more than to be a dad. being the most doting, caring man throughout the whole pregnancy, rubbing reader's feet and going out to get all her cravings and rubbing her stomach constantly. crying when he feels the baby kick. painting the whole nursery himself and spoiling the hell out of their little bundle when it arrives. andy barber being domestic and soft as hell in general gets me so weak.

warnings: some smut. pool smut. not the same pool bc that was a public pool but it needed to happen so. andy being cute, as cute as i’m sure he was when his wife was pregnant. (my proof: that smile every time someone asks him if he’s jacob’s dad)

word count: almost 10,000. honestly, i was going to keep going but jesus 10,000?!

pairing: andy barber x reader

How many brands of pregnancy tests existed in this world?

Honestly, beyond 5, what the fuck was the point? They measured the same shit, did they not? You didn’t care enough to find out, but during the period of painful silence, you thought about googling the answer.

You were in the tub, wrapped up in one of Andy’s hoodies, just watching him. He was at the counter, looking at the timer. He’d gone out to pick up the tests for what you guys had decided would be your new routine.

You’d always had sex a lot, but lately, Andy didn’t want to go a night without. Not because he was under the impression that would be a more effective method, he just literally could not keep his hands off you anymore. He asked you that morning if you wanted to make Friday night the test night. It made sense, he had his weekends off and that meant he could skulk around the house if it didn’t happen.

Most tests took 2 to 3 minutes. Some took 15 for whatever fucking reason. He wanted to wait for all of them, so for a quarter of an hour, you were just stuck there. Waiting. With him. Which shouldn’t have been so stressful, but it was.

The day you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he didn’t let you out of bed. Even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen for a while since you needed to finish your last week and a half of birth control. He had just been so happy, any attempts made to hide his obsession with you getting pregnant were tossed out the window immediately.

He’d thought about it before you, he’d wanted it before you, but hearing that you finally wanted it too just triggered something. He bought parenting books because he figured during your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have that much time to read. He bought this huge ass book of names and after he fucked you, he liked to bring it out and try to talk you into names he wanted while you were in such a blissful state.

Every second of trying had made you fall in love with him more. Yes, you wanted kids, but honestly, babies didn’t much appeal to you. You understood that to get to kids, you had to deal with the babies and you were okay with that, but mainly, you wanted to make Andy a father. You knew he would be good at it, possibly the best in the world.

And even with all the wanting, he never put pressure on you. The morning you told him you were done with the birth control, he sat you down and had the longest talk with you just to make sure that he hadn’t done anything to make you think he was losing patience with you. He wanted a baby, but he needed a happy wife. He didn’t want any part of something that you weren’t completely on board with.

But with wanting to try, you needed to make some changes. You were always fairly active since Andy had his busy days and you didn’t like just sitting and doing nothing while you waited for him to get home. With trying to conceive, your workouts had to be a little more basic. Longer, but less intense runs, some yoga. Andy had read that cardio was important, you thought up swimming. The very next day, he was already making plans to expand the house and add an indoor swimming pool. When you gave him a look, he pointed out that the kids would love it when they were old enough to swim. How could you possibly say no?

Caffeine was next on the chopping block. Andy, the sweetheart that he was, knew how much you loved coffee and tried his hardest to cut it out as well. He wanted to show you that you weren’t in this alone. It was your body, yes, but he would make sacrifices, too. The first time you caught him falling asleep at the dinner table, you had to tell him to end his noble support. With a job like his, he needed his coffee. The compromise was that he wouldn’t drink it in your presence.

He also did insane amounts of research. Even after you stopped the pill, he insisted on using condoms for a month after so you could start getting some folic acid before ending up pregnant. That was quite the sacrifice. One of your favorite things on this planet was when he finished inside you. Not a fucking condom. But you were trying this thing where you didn’t express negativity because with Andy as your husband, there was no way not to feel like a brat. How was someone so perfect?

Your period hadn’t returned yet but that didn’t mean you were incapable of getting pregnant. Hence the random, shot-in-the-dark pregnancy test Friday plan. You didn’t feel pregnant and you knew that was stupid. Some didn’t know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. And you’d never been pregnant before, so how would you know what to look for? You just couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t feel it. You also didn’t want to tell Andy because you hoped you were wrong.

It had been a week short of two months without the pill and three weeks since he stopped wearing condoms. The chances of it just falling into place were slim—you didn’t have research to back that up, just some deeply-rooted cynicism. Maybe it was your defense mechanism, act like you saw it coming and you wouldn’t be disappointed. Right?

Wrong, which you discovered when you saw Andy’s face after he turned over one of the tests. You wouldn’t cry because it had been a total of 5 seconds and some people had to try much longer, and you didn’t want him to have to put aside his feelings to then console you. You did, however, want to cry.

“We should see a doctor,” you said.

He scoffed. “We haven’t really been trying that long.”

“But we can, why not?”

He finally turned to you, forcing his expression into something that didn’t break your heart just to see. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Andy, I told you that I’m ready.”

“I know, and trust me, there’s nothing that I want more. I just also think there’s still some romance in being old fashioned and just letting it happen.”

“Google is your new best friend, Andy. Why not consult an actual professional?”

“We can, if you want, but like I said, it hasn’t been that long. Besides, until you start your period again, it’s probably just a waiting game. Not always, but it can be. We should be realistic about this. I don’t want to waste a visit down to the doctor just so they can tell us what my new best friend already has.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, “if that’s what you want—”

“None of that. What do you want?”

“I want to be the mother of your children.”

He sighed, crouching down to your side. “You will be.”

“You don’t know that—”

“No, I do,” he insisted. “Because I’m not going to stop fucking you. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go see a doctor. If there’s a problem, we will fix it. If we can’t, we will adopt. Are we clear? There is no way, Mrs. Barber, that you will not be the mother of my children one day. And because I damn well know that I deserve it, I will have the great honor of being the father of your children.”

You sighed and melted, but you hoped that much wasn’t apparent. “You’re so lame.”

He smirked. “Wanna get out of that tub so we can have sex?”

“Why can’t we have sex in the tub?”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe, but no water.”

“Okay, that’s weird.”

You shrugged. “Fine, I’ll get out of the tub.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to stand up but you caught his arm before he could. He took one look at you and was already shaking his head. “Don’t even say it—”

“I am, though.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Ever.”

“I feel bad.”

“You shouldn’t. It could be me. It could be nothing. Baby, it is too soon to start worrying about anything. Avoid stress, that is what you need to be doing.”

He could say it a million different ways, you were still sorry.

It was troubling how excited you were to get your period back. Honestly, when the birth control had finally taken it away, you cried. Tears of joy. To have the same reaction over getting it back felt weird.

Andy also seemed excited until you outlined just how inconvenient the whole thing was. Okay, that was being negative, but you were kind of in a bad mood. Something he was not at all bothered by. Because of course. He hadn’t been bothered by a single thing since you told him you wanted to start trying.

Officially, four months into wanting a baby and the only thing keeping you holding on was your beautiful, loving husband. He always knew when you were feeling down, so he would talk about the future and how nice it would be when you could finally take the kids out on family trips. How great taking them to school would be. All the fun things you would get them into, dance, sports, anything that you both could go and support. You were completely lost on how he was so positive all the time.

You needed to keep going, though. Like he said, you guys had options. It was better to know sooner rather than later, so you pushed forward. Sadly, your periods were irregular so you would probably ovulate irregularly. And you weren’t even aware of when you were ovulating because Andy still wanted this to be “natural”.

The second Friday with negative results was clearly taxing on both of you. He decided to end it immediately. That was why you had taken to sneaking pregnancy tests any chance you got. You didn’t like not telling him but you always felt like a failure every time it came back negative. But life went on, that much he made sure of.

The pool was finished and he seemed to like it more than you did. In fact, your liking it extended only as far as getting to see him wet and shirtless. But you were still in there 4 to 5 times a week for 30 minutes after you got home from work on weekdays and early on weekends. Because you did everything you were supposed to do. Because you didn’t want to feel like this was your fault, like there was something you were doing that would prevent this.

He came in one Saturday morning just as you were getting out. “Done?”

“Yeah, I served my time,” you joked. “I should get started on lunch. Any requests?”

“No, whatever sounds good to you.”

You went inside, fully intending to make lunch. But something that just didn’t make sense was how much you craved sex with Andy. It seemed like the more you had, the more you wanted. You guys were always sexual. At the start, after a month or so, every date ended with sex. When you moved in with him, it was more nights than not, even after you got married. But this was every day, numerous times a day.

He was turned on by the idea of getting you pregnant. He was insatiable for that reason. Sex this often wasn’t normal and it probably wasn’t raising your chances of conceiving since you weren’t being too methodical about it, but you were thrilled with this change. You worried about how much sex you would have once you were pregnant anyway, you figured you should start preparing for the long months ahead.

You were only in the kitchen for three minutes, trying to find food that would interest you more than what was currently on your mind. It didn’t work.

You returned to Andy. He was swimming his laps, completely oblivious. You stripped out of your bathing suit where you stood at the edge of the pool. He only made it three more times back and forth before he must have sensed you there.

He turned up, brushing his wet hair out of his face. When he saw you naked, his eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Well, unless you want me to wait for you to finish. I could just sit and watch, take care of myself until you can.”

“Here,” he decided. “Now.”

You smirked, sauntering off to the right where the stairs were. He made his way to you just before you descended the last step. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you took your cue to jump up and wrap yourself around him.

He carried you further into the water, lips moving against yours. You clung to his shoulders and your legs locked around his hips. “You are wild and demanding,” he accused.

You scoffed. “Me?”

He pretended to think about it. “Well, I guess it was me who stopped dinner last night, me who couldn’t wait until we left the grocery store, me who had you pull over while we were driving a few days ago, and me who came in here naked—oh, wait—“

You laughed. “Well, I’m just trying to prepare myself for when we’re hardly doing this anymore.”

“When we retire?”

You snorted. “No. You know, when I’m pregnant.”

He scoffed, pressing you against the side of the pool. You felt a hand moving between you, working his shorts out of the way. “You think I’m not going to fuck you when you’re pregnant?”

“Well...I assumed, yeah.”

He nudged your chin with his nose until you tilted your head back, offering him your neck. He kissed you softly as he indelicately pushed into you.

You clutched at his shoulders harder, whining his name.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to be able to refrain from touching you. Especially while you’re pregnant.”

You angled your head so you could see his face. He looked downright amused at what you were saying.

The pace and pressure of his hips immediately became punishing. He held you tight, hands on your hips as he fucked you. “You don’t even know how hard I get thinking about you carrying my child.”

Maybe it was what he was saying, maybe it was that you had wanted him inside you since you woke up, but it wasn’t taking long to get you there. You brought one hand up to the edge of the pool for a little more support.

Andy began kissing your neck and nipping at your chest. “I think about how beautiful you’re going to look, I think about how I’m going to have you riding me every day.”

You could picture that. Fuck. You were rarely on top now because you loved being underneath him and he loved pinning you down to the mattress, but when you got bigger, you would have to adapt. It didn’t sound as boring as you’d had yourself convinced it was when he said it.

“Every morning before I go to work, I’ll wake you up with my mouth between your legs.”

You let out a shaky breath. “What’s stopping you from doing that now?”

“You,” he promised. “I can barely open my eyes before you’re telling me to get inside you. You’ll be slower when you’re pregnant, less of a predator, more of a prey.”

You scoffed but it became a moan. If he kept talking like this, you were going to come soon.

“Some women are more sensitive when they’re pregnant,” he asserted. “I bet you will be. You’re already so sensitive. I’m going to spend every weekend fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Andy.” You turned your head toward him and he kissed you. You whimpered when you felt his hand at your cunt, fingers pressing against your clit so gently.

You finished first but he was close behind, turning his head down to groan into your shoulder.

He rode out his high slowly, kissing any part of your skin that was in his reach. He lifted you out of the water, onto the tiled floor surrounding the pool. He kissed both of your knees, then your calves, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Sound like a plan?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Really, I should make lunch.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You headed out, back to the kitchen.

“You’re not getting dressed?”

“Nope.”

Four months, one week, and six days later, you were pregnant. You’d felt weird, it was 3 in the morning, Andy was asleep, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to rest until you found out.

Technically, you hadn’t missed your period yet. Sometimes you started on the 17th, others the 22nd through the 24th. Oh, but there was also the wonderful time you had started on the 5th. That time, you did cry. He might have too, but never in front of you because he was trying to be the most positive man on earth.

You only took two tests, the ones with the least amount of wait time. The results came back positive and for a moment, you just sat there. You had been terrified that it wasn’t going to happen. You worried about how much that would hurt Andy. You also stupidly worried about the possibility that he would leave you over it.

But that didn’t matter anymore. You were pregnant and he was going to be thrilled. After being a little annoyed that you took the test without him, you assumed.

You weren’t sure how to tell him. When to tell him. It was 3 in the morning and he had to work. Maybe after he got home. If you told him when he woke up, he was just going to want to stay home.

Logically, you knew false positives were not the same as false negatives. But it was just like when you were in junior high and you didn’t get your period so you were convinced you were pregnant even though you were very much not having sex. Yes, you were paranoid but you just wanted to be sure. The only thing worse than not getting pregnant would be getting Andy’s hopes up.

You waited until he was at work and then made an appointment. This would also annoy him because he wanted to do extensive research when selecting a doctor. You weren’t robbing him of that, you just wanted to have confirmation. The second you did, you would tell him and start looking at doctors.

You had it scheduled four days out, Thursday. You could get in on your lunch hour. It was odd going and explaining to the nurse your thought process and why you couldn’t schedule a follow-up appointment after the confirmation. She must have thought you were an idiot, you possibly were, but you were a happy idiot.

That night, when Andy arrived home, you were waiting on the couch for him. Once again, unclothed. You’d gotten quite used to being nude, having him undress you every time either of you wanted sex was just ridiculous. There wasn’t a word said as he laid over you on the couch, not bothering to get undressed. He just moved his pants and then he was inside you.

He didn’t move at first, instead, he rubbed your clit until you finished around him.

You draped a leg over his ass. “Andy, fuck me.”

“Not yet, baby.” His fingers circled over your clit again, his eyes fixed on yours and wanting to see pleasure on your face. He was in a mood and that meant the sex was going to be exhausting. Worth it, but very unlike the easy and quick routines you’d gotten used to in all of the chaos of trying to get pregnant.

When he would join you in the shower because usually, you woke up earlier than him even though you went to work later, he would wrap his arms around you all sweet then shove you against the wall and make you come with him. When he would find you making dinner and fuck you over the counter. When you were up later than he wanted so he would just fuck you wherever you were until you were so exhausted that he had to carry you upstairs. No other married people had as much sex as you guys, you were almost certain.

You’d made a complete mess of his pants but he didn’t seem concerned about them. He sat up and set you on his lap, holding you in place as he thrust his hips up. There was always something amazing about sex with him still in his suit. It wasn’t like his clothing left much to the imagination anyway, you could see and feel the muscles in his arms and chest.

He continued fucking you until he was close, then he settled you flat against him and used his fingers to make you come again and again. Until he was sure he had come down enough from his almost-finish. Feeling your pussy move around him, the way you would tighten when you orgasmed, the way you continued to get wetter and wetter, he was addicted.

You grabbed his free hand and placed it on one of your breasts and he closed his mouth around the opposite. Again, he held you up so he had enough room to drive his cock into you, hard and deep, and so painfully slow. It must not have been the best day. He loved being in absolute control of you when he couldn’t be at work.

Once more, just as he was about to finish, and you could tell because his hands would tighten and his hips would start to stutter, he sat you on his lap.

You curled your hand under his jaw, pulling him from your breast up to your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, all tongue and desperate moans from both of you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he directed as he pulled away.

Your fingers instantly dropped to your clit and you began drawing yourself toward another end. He wouldn’t let you stop, not after the first, the second, the third. Your hand was shaking, you were shaking, he had to hold you by the shoulders otherwise you would have fallen back. The entire time, he remained buried in your cunt, hard and not doing a damn thing about it. He was using you to edge himself and that made you impossibly wet.

He repeated this, more times than you could count. He didn’t say a word either, just led your hand down to your clit or used his own when he knew you couldn’t. Sometimes the sex was like this, he was working through something and he didn’t want to talk at first. It was about proving to himself that he had enviable control, and he definitely did because it wasn’t like you made it easy for him.

When he laid you down on the coffee table, he began pounding into you. You could tell when he was almost there because he was getting louder, grunting into your skin, or groaning as he bit down on your shoulder, your breast, your neck.

He pulled out before then and you felt inclined to put a stop to this madness.

“Andy.”

His hand made its way back to your pussy as he stroked his cock with his opposite. Moments later, he was spilling out onto your skin. As he continued fucking you with his fingers, you ran your hands over your stomach, spreading his cum along your body until you reached your breasts. You loved having his cum on you and he loved seeing it on you.

After your orgasm, he sat back on the couch as he worked to catch his breath. “Sorry, that was kind of a waste.”

“Not really.” You continued teasing him with your hands on your breasts and these small mewls that you knew he was already getting worked up over again.

He probably didn’t even realize what you’d said, too focused on watching you pinch and pull on your nipples.

You turned down a few minutes later, meeting his eye.

He kept his eyes on your hands as he spoke. “Wanna get in the shower while I make dinner?”

You moved off the table, legs shaky as you made your way to him. You caught his hand before he could sit you on his lap and sat down on the couch at his side. Leaning over, you took him in your mouth.

“Jesus,” he hissed.

After swallowing as much of him as you could, you set one of his hands on the back of your head. He knew what you wanted.

Holding you in place, he began rolling his hips. It wasn’t too forceful but you could feel him in the back of your throat. He was hard again in a matter of a few moments.

“God, your mouth is fucking perfect, baby.” He was losing his steady pace, his hips jerkier, slower sometimes. “All I could think about today was you. Your beautiful cunt, your fucking mouth. I’ve wanted to see you covered in my cum for so long, but...” he didn’t finish his sentence, you knew why he hadn’t.

You weren’t satisfied until you’d swallowed every drop of him. As you pulled off, he grabbed your hips and brought you onto one of his thighs. He kissed your forehead and began running his fingers through your hair.

“How was work?”

He shrugged. “You know.”

“Rough day?”

“It usually is,” he attempted to dismiss.

“Sounds like you could use good news.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You have good news?”

“Well, I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly, then abruptly sat up straight as his hands dropped to your hips. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, okay,” he blurted out. He moved you onto the couch, standing and tucking himself back into his pants. “Do you want to take a test?”

“I already took the test.”

“Without me?” he demanded. “How many?”

“I took two, but I went to the doctor to get it confirmed.”

“Without me?!” he repeated.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I am mad.” But then he leaned down and started kissing you so you figured he was going to get over it fairly quickly. He pulled away, both hands coming up to your face. “I can’t believe you. How long have you known?”

“I took the test 4 days ago. Went to the doctor today.”

“4 days?!”

“Andy, I didn’t want to get you excited if I wasn’t actually pregnant.”

“Well, can you take another test so I can see it? We have a billion upstairs.”

You scoffed. “Do you want me to? I will.”

“Yeah, kind of. I know it’s stupid—“

You shook your head. “It’s not, I can do it.”

He got on his knees on the floor, gently pressing you back to the couch. “I knew it would happen, I just didn’t think it was going to happen this soon.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still okay? You still want this?”

“Of course.”

He leaned forward, kissing your throat all the way down to your stomach. You shivered at the sensation of his beard prickling against your skin. He continued kissing you and you ran your fingers through his hair.

He turned up to you, lips still pressed just below your navel. “It’ll be a girl.”

You scoffed. “Andy, you don’t know that.”

“I do,” he insisted.

“You never said you wanted a girl.”

“I want any baby you can give me.”

“Even if it was a demon baby that turned out to be a cannibal?”

“As long as it had your smile, yes.”

You snorted. “And your eyelashes!”

“And your cheekbones.”

You ran your finger along the bridge of his nose. “Your nose.”

“Is it red like all the other demon babies?”

“You’re in too good of a mood.”

“Impossible, no mood is too good considering you’re carrying my daughter.”

“Stop,” you scolded half-heartedly. “Look, you have a total of at least 15 weeks before you find out whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“You have 15 weeks.”

“Andrew Barber,” you scoffed, “stop.”

“Let’s bet.”

“No!” You laughed.

“Scared?”

“Don’t even try that with me.”

He shrugged. “You sound scared. I never knew that the woman who gave me a hand job in a movie theatre would be such a baby—“

“Andy, if you don’t stop talking, all of this pregnant sex you’ve been fantasizing about is not going to happen.”

With a small smile, he shut his mouth.

“Upstairs? You want me to take the test?”

He scooped you up off the couch and headed toward your bedroom.

The next day, Andy was already working on all those grand promises he’d made. You woke with your calves draped over his shoulders, his lips wrapped around your clit, his hands folded over your hips to hold you down, and his beautiful blue eyes looking up at you.

Then he wanted to go shopping. He’d already called into work, not even bothering to lie about being sick. He was thrilled to let Lynn know that you were pregnant and apparently, she knew how big of a deal that was so she let him off the hook after making him promise to take pictures of what he was intending to do to the nursery.

He wanted to paint. You had wanted to leave it white. Gendered colors were stupid anyway. He’d said the same at the start, but he was currently waving pink swatches in your face.

“Andy, what if it’s a boy?”

He shrugged. “Then he’s going to have a pink nursery. Pink sky or pink pearl?”

You spared the colors a glance. “Pink pearl. Why can’t we just do one of those gender-neutral colors?”

“Because yellow is ugly and purple is loud.”

“Green.”

“Reminds me of spring.”

“Orange.”

“Pumpkins.”

“Red.”

“Blood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, why not dark blue? I was kind of hoping we could do, like, a constellation theme.”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s do both. But instead of blue, we’ll use pink.”

“Okay,” and you were excited again. “You are insane, though. Just so you know.”

“Hardly. Do you know how behind I am? I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I haven’t found the doctor yet, I’m just barely starting on the nursery. We don’t have a name, we don’t have a crib. Essentially, we have nothing.”

Was he seriously already stressing about this? And that probably wasn’t even a fourth of what was going through his mind.

You reached over, finger tapping on the only pink color you’d seen that you liked enough to put on the walls. “We have a paint color. If you like it.”

He glanced between you and the color twice before nodding. “Okay.”

Walking through the aisles, you decided to take over. You threw all the tools he could possibly need in the cart and didn’t stop until you spotted the glitter. You stared straight at it until he got curious enough about what you were so focused on that he made his way to you. Adding glitter to paint was difficult, you knew because you had attempted before. Your friend’s sister’s kid was turning 7 and wanted to redesign her bedroom and you tagged along because glitter. It ended in tears and Andy buying you ice cream to make you feel better.

He sighed. “You want the glitter?”

“I simply cannot live without it.”

With another sigh, a much more resigned one, he started tossing in bags of the glitter additive. “You know you’re not helping, right?”

“What? Because of last time—?“

“No, because you’re pregnant.”

“Andy, it’s not even a baby yet. It’s a fetus. Can’t I just do what I would have always done up until the point that I can’t get an abortion?”

“That is not funny.”

You snorted. “It kind of is. Stop worrying.” You rolled onto your toes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Otherwise, you’re going to look like a grandfather instead of a father. And hey, I’d still be pretty attracted to you but we have more kids to make, so calm down.”

He banned you from the house. Yep, you had a total of one friend who was currently married and interested in children. That was the friend he wanted you to focus on, not the others, he said, that they meant well, but couldn’t possibly be supportive at a time like this. In reality, he never liked most of your friends. You kept them out of college and he always thought they liked to go out and drink too much.

Your friend was excited when you asked if you could stay with her for a bit. Andy wanted to paint immediately and then make sure all lingering traces of the paint were adequately gone from the house before you returned.

Painting took two days. He called you both mornings, brought you lunch at work, took you out to dinner, and made sure to call you before you went to bed.

Then he checked you both into a hotel for 3 days. You had to force him to go to work on Monday, pointing out that he really needed to be making money. You loved your job but it wasn’t as if the salary was sufficient to raise a baby on.

Andy let you revel in the beauty of the nursery up until the weekend. The constellations were a soft champagne color and the glitter was mixed in perfectly, evenly. It looked professionally done, but you weren’t surprised. He was perfect and everything he did for you and his child would be perfect as well.

Next, his mission was to find a crib and pick the doctor. Something that kept him on his laptop most of Saturday while you slept soundly next to him. You were already beginning to feel tired and you weren’t sure if that was because of him or your baby.

Time went by in a blur. He’d fallen into a routine effortlessly. He would wake you up as he told you he would, eating you out, then he would get you in the shower with him, and make sure you ate a good breakfast before he headed off to work. He would call at lunch, just to make sure you weren’t too exhausted to be at work. You always felt inclined to tell him stories about working pregnant women every time. He would come home and fix dinner and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. At night, after he thoroughly fucked you, which honestly didn’t take much, you would fall asleep together. It was a great first two months.

At the start of your 3rd month, you were already showing. It seemed like it was the best day of Andy’s life. In fact, he wanted to start a scrapbook. He wanted to document everything and you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was absolutely crazy. Besides, it was pretty cute.

It was around this time that you had the most absurd craving for almond butter. He loved almond butter so it was always in the house and you never once wanted any part of it. Randomly, you thought apples and almond butter sounded great and you finished the entire jar before he got home. Something that amused him greatly, he promised he would get more on his way home the next day. That new obsession lasted for a week and a half, and you had yourself convinced that it was going to be the worst of it.

No. Swap out apples for Cheetos. Seriously, you wanted to eat Cheetos and almond butter. You were downright ashamed so you didn’t even ask him to get you anything, you just snuck out to the store before he got home one night and bought yourself a sufficient stash that you kept hidden in the very back of the pantry. This wouldn’t work for the entire pregnancy but until you were further along, you intended to hide these horrible cravings.

Well, as well as you could. He was anticipating more after the almond butter so he always texted and asked if you wanted him to bring something home. So far, your genius combinations had been tacos and chocolate, macaroni and cheese and sour patch kids, cashews and Doritos, French fries and hot chocolate, and orange chicken and lemonade. Andy drove everywhere at any given hour. If there was a store open, he would go. If it was closed and you couldn’t wait that long, he would go to a 24-hour fast food place. He’d started stocking your favorites as well, and hiding them until you really needed them.

The day before you were set to find out the sex of the baby, he went shopping. You were far too tired to try to leave the house, especially since Andy could shop. You thought he would come home with more for the nursery. Since he’d found the crib, he’d started looking at bedding and the other matching furniture. You knew it would be extreme since you weren’t there to stop him. What you did not expect was that he would sneak in and take full advantage of your unconsciousness. If he hadn’t dropped something, you never would have caught him.

When you found him in the nursery, he was in the closet. Hanging up clothing. Pink clothing. For a girl. “Andy.”

“We are having a girl,” he stated simply.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered to yourself.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I’m witnessing this insanity.”

He gave you a flat look, fully turning to you with a tiny black bodysuit with white hearts printed on it. “This could be for a boy, I don’t know what you’re so upset about it.”

You smirked. “Anything can be for a boy if you try hard enough. Look, if you wanted a girl so bad—“

“I wanted a baby.”

“Andy, you bought girl clothes!”

“Because we are having a girl.”

“You’re going to have this child alone if it doesn’t stop making me crave the most ridiculous things.”

He hummed. “Is that why you’re up here?” Smirking, he made his way to you. As usual, his hands went straight to your stomach, he had to feel any movement and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t. “What do you want?”

You scoffed tiredly. “A lot of things. Yogurt, peach and blueberry. Something lemon, lemon squares, lemon cake. A lot of pasta, I really want spaghetti. And despite your incorrigible behavior, I want you.”

“You do mean sexually, right? Because I read sometimes pregnant women want to eat things that aren’t food—“

You placed your hand flat over his mouth. “I take it back, I just want the food.” You turned away to escape from the room but he was right on your tail. “Andy, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you the food,” he promised. “Let’s just make a quick stop to the bedroom first.”

You didn’t put up much resistance as he began leading you that way. He had been correct about one thing, you were so sensitive. You’d given up on wearing bras or underwear, and your clothes had to be loose. Especially given the dreams you were having. Much to his simultaneous joy and dismay, you would send him pictures and videos of certain sexual situations at least twice a week just a couple of hours before he got home.

That cocky bastard was correct. A fact that had him beaming the remainder of the appointment, all the way home, and even in his sleep. You weren’t upset that you were having a girl. It wasn’t that you thought you had a right to be picky, but very simply, you wanted a girl more than you wanted a boy. You weren’t even sure why. Gender wasn’t real and it wouldn’t upset you if someday in the future that little girl told you that she wasn’t a girl at all. Logically, you knew there was no point. But you didn’t have to be logical, not while you were carrying a baby.

Even though Andy was annoyingly smug about the whole thing, you were excited. You finally got to take a look at the closet and discovered yesterday was not his first time buying clothing. You wanted to be mad at him but he had the softest look on his face. This was everything he wanted and you liked that you were able to provide it for him.

At 5 months, he absolutely needed to feel her kick. If he wasn’t fucking you or feeding you, or shopping, or at work, his hands were on your stomach. One of his favorite things, when you got out of the shower, was covering you in lotion, something you were supposed to do to prevent stretch marks, not that either of you much cared. During that time, he would speak to her, try to get her to give him any kind of movement. Or sometimes, you would wake up and he was just level with your stomach, whispering things to her.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d felt what you presumed were “flutters” and maybe one good kick a couple of nights ago, but you weren’t certain. You sort of enjoyed that she didn’t just give in to his murmurings of “come on, baby, give daddy a kick”, or “if you kick, I’ll never tell you no”. That line was dropped from rotation after you pointed out you would be holding him to that when she wanted to start dating.

She seemed to like his voice, you could admit. Sometimes it wasn’t him that woke you up, it was her responding to him. They weren’t fast movements, they weren’t particularly forceful either, but they were there. You didn’t understand how he’d yet to feel anything. And since you were still telling him you hadn’t really felt anything, he brought it up at the next appointment. The look of pure horror on his face when the doctor told him the likelihood of fathers never feeling any movement was sad, in a funny way. Kind of. Being pregnant had made you a little meaner.

He was pouting about it all night but you told him you were sure he would feel something. You told him you wouldn’t have her until she kicked for him. He knew you couldn’t control that, obviously, but it made him feel better.

At 5 months and 2 weeks, it happened. You were failing at staying awake and trying to read a book when you felt an abrupt tap. You startled awake, discovering the book on the floor. That had to be it, you just dropped it on yourself. But then it happened again, a bit harder and a tad painful.

“Andy!”

He bolted to your side in a matter of seconds. Seriously, he had to have broken world records with that trick. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hands, pulling his arms over the back of the couch, and placed them over your stomach.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go—?”

“Shut up,” you ordered.

After a couple of minutes, he sighed. “You felt an actual kick?”

“Sorry, she tends to move more when I’m so still.”

He moved around the couch and sat on the floor. “It’s going to happen. I’m not going to feel her.”

“No,” you argued. “Are you working?”

“No, just scaring myself with more books.”

You held your hand out to him and he helped you up. You crouched down to pick up your dropped book and handed it off to him. “Read it, she seems to like your voice... I’ll fall asleep, see if that works.”

You were settled in bed next to Andy, his one hand pressed to the side of your belly as he read the book aloud. You were trying to keep still but also trying to stay awake, you wanted to see his face when he felt it. That was out of the question, Andy’s voice was like honey, or a fall morning, or the feeling of being home after a long day. You were out after a few paragraphs.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure why. You saw Andy hovering over you fully with wet eyes and the softest smile you had ever seen. “Baby?”

“I felt her.”

You scoffed. “I told you that you would.”

He kissed all over your stomach, lingering each time. “Maybe she finally knows I’m her daddy.”

“She always knew.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Truth?” He glanced up at you and you explained, “I’ve been feeling her for a while now. That’s why I knew she liked your voice... I have some bad news, Andy. It seems like she already knows you’re wrapped around her finger and she is going to enjoy making you jump through hoops.”

“Just like her mom.”

You smirked. “Guess so.” You reached out to touch his face. “What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Every morning, I wake up and I’m so sure that my life couldn’t get any better but every day, it does. I didn’t know it was possible to love as much as I love you and as much as I love her.”

You turned to mush instantly.

“I didn’t have this growing up, you know. I didn’t have a dad but I’m going to do it right. I’m not going to be like him. I don’t understand how he could just walk away from his child, I would never do that. I could never do that. Or from you, my beautiful wife. For a long time, while we were trying, I just hated him so much. More than usual. I hated that we had to try so hard and that he was given a family that he just tossed away.”

“Well, he was an idiot. You are truly the best man I will ever know, possibly the best man that there is. And you’re going to be the best father, too... Okay, maybe second best after Ryan Reynolds, but still pretty high up there.”

He scoffed.

Feeling her kick was another addition to his day. Lips and fingers brought you to orgasm before taking you to the shower where he carefully wrapped his arms around your shoulders and fucked you from behind. He would dry you off, lay you out on the bed, and cover you in lotion and pay a lot of attention to your feet. His hands all over your body never failed to make you want him, but he had to go to work. You both knew if you started, he was going to end up being late. After breakfast, he would say goodbye to you, then he would lean down and ask his little girl for any kind of movement. She’d began to indulge him at least twice a day, when he was leaving and when he would say goodnight.

He’d always let you sleep in on Saturdays and even stayed with you for a great deal of it. Mostly because he knew you could sense when he wasn’t in bed and that would wake you. But with time, you were becoming less tired. Not entirely, you still were out like the dead at 9 every night, but sometimes you woke up actually feeling rested.

Saturdays were what he intended them to be. This particular Saturday had him wrapped around you, hands flat to your stomach, chin atop your head. You had another fantastic dream, one where you weren’t pregnant.

You loved your baby and you loved that you were able to carry her but you missed how hard he fucked you sometimes. You just couldn’t wait until he could pull your hair, choke you, spank you, tie you up, all of the things he loved to do to you. More importantly, you couldn’t wait until he was on top of you, pinning you down and leaving bruises.

Those dreams were why you woke up wet more often than not. Why you never hesitated to take his hand and slide it lower but you didn’t need that today, you just needed him. For you, he’d adapted to sleeping without clothes. It was easier that way and he’d never complain about you doing the same. Besides, the heat was getting the best of you the bigger you got.

You reached back with your heel, tapping his shin several times. “Andy?”

He hummed.

“It’s Saturday. Wake up.”

He scoffed, eyes still closed. “Yeah, it’s Saturday. Sleep in.”

“Fuck me,” you whined.

“I wish I could say that wasn’t enough to get me hard.”

“You were already hard,” you assured. You could feel him against your hip.

He grabbed your thigh and draped it over him. “You know, my love, when you’re not carrying our baby, I am going to have a lot of fun making you wait for it. I am indulging you now simply because you are giving me the greatest gift anyone could. But when I can tie you up, when I can fuck you, that is what I’m looking forward to.”

You moaned as he unhurriedly slipped inside you. “I miss your hands around my neck, that’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“So, I suspect you’ll continue being a brat long past your due date.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” you taunted.

“Not right now, just you wait. You’ve been bad ever since you told me you were pregnant. Laying on the couch, naked. I know you had been touching yourself. I’ve been keeping track and your ass is probably going to be getting spanked up until you’re pregnant again.”

You snorted, turning your head back slightly. “Oh, and is that going to be immediately after?”

He kissed along your jaw. “Up to you.”

“You want another girl?”

“Yeah,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You scoffed.

“But I wouldn’t be let down by a boy,” he promised. He started delicately rolling his hips, one hand coming to your center to rub your clit.

Watching you fall apart like this was something else. Andy found you utterly beautiful, your cheeks would flush, your eyes would fill with such desperation for him that made him feel wanted. The moans that spilled from your mouth were sometimes animalistic, inspired only by how much you needed him to give you what only he could.

Now that you were pregnant, he could cover you in his cum. He always loved doing that, an interesting discovery he’d made very early in your relationship. After you decided you wanted to try for a baby, he would often come inside you and tell you to leave it there, which was pleasing as well. But this. This was simplistic, classic beauty.

He pulled out, fingers filling you instead. Your hips moved frantically, seeking the pressure of his palm against your clit. Angling your head back, his lips hungrily met yours. You reached down and took him in your hand, he turned his head slightly to hiss a curse.

Once he looked at you again, you pretended all you wanted was an innocent kiss. Something you kept up until he was just about to come, and then you bit down hard on his bottom lip. He had no idea how to retaliate and seeing the frustration play out on his face was almost as satisfying as your finish.

You laid next to him patiently as he came down, anticipating his reaction. It was always funnier when he had time to dwell on the situation. For several more weeks, you had complete permission to be as bratty as you wanted. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t been taking advantage of that more.

He turned his head to you and you smirked. “That’s going on top of the list. You will regret that.”

“The look on your face was so worth it.”

“Teasing is also going on the list,” he warned.

The day your water broke was just a normal day. Of course, not your due date. No, this baby had been torturing you since the very start, why stop now? You expected it was just something in the Barber blood. Strong-willed, complicated, and the tendency to be a complete pain in the ass.

Regardless, your husband was at work. If everything went well for him today, there was one last case that he was going to tie up, and then he was yours and hers until he was ready to go back. You figured that wouldn’t be for a long while and that was exciting.

You would think that this would have been too much by now. You guys didn’t really have your friends, or regular company that you kept. No one had been in your home, save for Lynn who you insisted he invite over so she could see the nursery in person.

She’d also given you a gift and you wanted to receive it from her in person. You knew there was a special friendship she had with Andy. A woman in a position of power, you figured she didn’t have time for many. And Andy wasn’t a typical friend, a low-maintenance guy who was kind and smart. They just went together well, and you wanted to encourage him to let her in at least a little.

He answered your call on the first ring because he’d been glued to his phone for these past three months every time that he had to leave the house. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Are you busy?” you worked to keep your voice level. No need to rile him up before he could get home.

“No, not really. I just stepped out of a meeting with Lynn. We were talking about the last case she thought of giving me. She’s wondering if three days is—”

“She should give it to someone else.” You had taken to rubbing your stomach, mentally pleading with your baby. Please, baby, just wait for your daddy. I’ll never hear the end of this if he doesn’t see it.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m fine…but my water broke—”

“What?!” he yelled. You distantly heard him yelling then, “Lynn, I gotta go! My baby is on the way and she was a bit of a jerk at the start, wouldn’t kick for me. I think she’s missing all those times she killed my soul and I’m terrified she’s going to show up before I make it.”

You could only imagine the look on Lynn’s face. Or the look on his face. A cross between terrified and thrilled, he probably looked like a serial killer.

“Can you wait for me to get home?”

“Did you just call our daughter a jerk?”

He huffed. “Baby.”

“I think so. I haven’t started having any contra—nope! No, there it is.”

He talked you to through breathing until it subsided. “Okay, listen, this is very important. I’m across town right now and there’s going to be some traffic at this hour—”

“Please don’t drive crazy.”

“I won’t, I promise. But first, I need you to get the timer…where are you?”

“On the couch.”

“Great, get the timer under the table.”

“There isn’t a timer under the table.”

“There is, I taped it there.”

“For what?” you pressed.

“This, obviously.”

“But why would you tape it?”

“There are about twenty timers all over the house, hidden so you couldn’t find them and move then.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward slowly to search under the top of the table for the timer. Yup, he was being serious.

“Okay, just keep track of them. And now, the second thing, I need you to promise me something. The neighbors, if you need them to drive you, they will.”

“What?”

“I’ve been creating these backup plans ever since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Oh, come on,” you complained. “I thought you were being nice to them because you liked them.”

“I mean, it’s not as if anyone in our neighborhood would ever say no to taking you. I just had to make sure that they were good drivers.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You had hoped that having a child was making him see the importance of social ties. These people lived by you, they were all having kids, most of them would probably end up in the same school.

“Honey?”

“I thought you wanted them to be our married friends. She just had her baby 8 months ago—”

He snorted. “Yeah, in addition to that other one.”

“Are you talking about Charles?”

“I know he’s 5, but he’s evil—”

“Andy!”

“Baby, listen. I’m getting in the car now. If you need to get to the hospital before I make it there, go left first. If they are not home, then go to the right. Left then right. Left first, right is the second resort.”

“You dragged the Johnsons into this, too?”

“Dragged ‘em all in, baby. Gotta go, stay calm and don’t move unless you need to. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You hung up and laid back against the couch. It felt like all there was to do was wait for your next contraction, something you did not enjoy the first time. They were just going to get worse, you needed your husband here.

You heard Andy pull up a little over half an hour later. He charged into the house like a maniac, showing up at your side, hands immediately going to your stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had a couple of contractions,” you reported. “They don’t last long and they’re pretty far apart.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He helped you off the couch, bringing the timer along with him. He let you control the pace to the car. You’d gotten bigger than you thought you would and walking three steps was nearly a minute-long ordeal.

Halfway there, you noticed the bag over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a bag in the car?”

“I packed the car bags sometime last week. Who knows what state of mind I was in? I can’t trust my competence.”

“Are you implying that there has been a moment during these 40 weeks that you haven’t been out of your mind?”

“I’m going to pay for this neighbors bit, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you promised.

Labor wasn’t a long process. Painless as many women had told you it was? Fuck no. It hurt, a lot. But Andy was there and he was all you needed. He talked you through the breathing, he never stopped touching you, your arms, your face, your stomach. He liked to make plans when neither of those things worked. He reminded you about all the great things you guys would get to do with children, and it was enough to get you through it.

You thought you knew what love looked like, because you loved Andy so much. But when he saw your baby for the first time after she’d been set in his arms, he looked at her in such an intense, breath-taking way.

Any uncertainty you might have been playing with in your mind was gone in that second. You’d gotten a bit paranoid over time. Wondering if you guys were just going to have the same marriage as everyone else. Like, you started in love and ended with affairs and really hurtful words. But you knew then that this was not a normal family. This was true, unconditional love.

#andy barber x reader #still writing i swear #another coming up soon #my writing

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