#we’re both so excited & the anticipation is so strong it feels like we’re on our first date fr
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Omg it’s wedding eve are you excited to get married to your man
NINAAAA !!!!! i’m so excited :’) getting all the last minute arrangements in order and stealing as many kisses as i can 🙂↕️
#we’re chillin in the hot tub rn#playing footsie and asking the other if they’re nervous#we’re both so excited & the anticipation is so strong it feels like we’re on our first date fr#MWAAH ILYYY CANT WAIT FOR TMRO <3#𐔌‧。˚ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅꜱ ֢#⋆˙ᰔ ֢ 𓂃 nina .ᐟ
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Unscripted (Fabien Frankel x Y/N)
Actress Y/N L/N, who stars as one of Alicent’s children, and Fabien Frankel, the notorious Ser Criston Cole, show exactly why they’ve become the fan favorites.
TW // Strong language and profanities, sexual innuendos.
The studio was alive with anticipation as the lights dimmed and the familiar jingle of The Late Late Show with James Corden played.
The audience clapped and cheered, excitement bubbling in the air. James Corden walked onto the stage with his signature wide grin, waving to the audience before taking his spot behind the desk. “Alright, alright, settle down folks!” James said with a laugh, raising his hands to quiet the audience. “We’ve got an incredible show for you tonight. Now, unless you’ve been living under a rock, you probably know that the second season of House of the Dragon is just around the corner, and let me tell you, the internet is losing its collective mind over these next two guests.”
The crowd’s cheers grew even louder as James continued. “They’ve become the newest darlings of the internet, the power duo everyone’s talking about. Please welcome, the brilliant Y/N L/N and the charming Fabien Frankel!”
The applause reached a fever pitch as Y/N and Fabien walked out onto the stage, waving and smiling at the audience. They exchanged a quick glance, already feeding off each other’s energy, before taking their seats on the couch beside James.
James leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Welcome, welcome! You two are everywhere right now. How does it feel to be the internet’s newest obsession?”
Y/N chuckled, sharing a playful look with Fabien. “Honestly, it’s a bit surreal. One minute we’re just doing our jobs, and the next, there are memes, fan edits, and people shipping us like crazy.”
Fabien nodded, grinning. “Yeah, and some of those fan theories… I mean, they’re really out there, but I kind of love it. The internet is an incredible place, full of very imaginative people.”
James leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together, clearly enjoying the vibe. “So, Fabien, Y/N,” He began, “you’ve both mentioned how much you enjoy interacting with the fans. But let’s be honest, do you ever really lurk around the internet, you know, just to see what people are saying about you?”
Y/N's lips curved into a knowing smile as she nudged Fabien, who was already trying to suppress a grin.
Fabien raised his hand, a little too eagerly. “Oh, absolutely. I’ll confess right here, right now—I’ve got a burner account. Actually, I’ve got multiple burner accounts.”
The audience erupted with shocked murmurs, and even James looked momentarily stunned. “Wait, wait, wait—are you serious? You’ve got burner accounts to sleuth around the internet?”
Fabien nodded, clearly delighted by the reaction. “Oh, yeah. I’m like a ghost in the comments section. I leave little breadcrumbs, drop some hints here and there. Sometimes I’ll just throw in some wild theories to see if anyone bites. It’s my guilty pleasure.”
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head fondly. “He’s not lying. There was this one time he spent an entire afternoon on Twitter, hyping up a completely fake spoiler about our show just to see if it would trend.”
James was hunched over with laughter at this point. “This is incredible! So, what kind of comments are you leaving? Are you out there defending yourself, correcting people, or just stirring the pot?”
“Honestly, a bit of everything,” Fabien admitted with a satisfied smirk. “I’ll defend myself when I need to—like when someone said Criston Cole didn’t deserve to have his head intact. But mostly, I’m just there to mess with people.”
James wiped away tears of laughter, his eyes wide with delight. “You are absolutely diabolical, Fabien! I can’t believe I’m just hearing about this now. Have you ever accidentally exposed yourself, like, has anyone figured it out?”
Fabien shook his head, though his grin suggested he enjoyed the close calls. “Not yet. I’m very careful. But if someone ever does figure it out, I’ll probably just deny everything.”
Y/N interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, ‘careful’ is definitely not the word I’d use. He’s this close to getting caught every other day. I keep telling him he’s going to slip up eventually.”
The audience couldn’t get enough, roaring with laughter while James, still chuckling, clapped his hands together. “Right, this has been brilliant! But, of course, the fans also want more answers. They want to know everything—behind-the-scenes secrets, your personal lives… Shall we give them what they want?”
Y/N smirked, her playful side coming out. “Oh, we can give them something, but I’m not sure they’re ready for everything.”
Fabien leaned closer to the camera, adopting a dramatic whisper. “Careful what you wish for, folks.”
The audience chortled, and James shook his head in mock exasperation. “Well, since we’re all in such a good mood, I think it’s time to up the stakes. What do you say we play a little game? How about a round of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts?”
Everyone cheered their approval, and Y/N and Fabien pumped their fists in the air. “Bring it on!” Y/N declared, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Alright then!” James said, clapping his hands as the crew wheeled out a table covered with an array of truly disgusting things that barely passed as foods. From bull’s penis to bird saliva, the table was a nightmare. And don’t even mention the smells. Horrid. Y/N and Fabien both grimaced, but the challenge only seemed to fuel their competitive spirits.
James explained the rules with an evil grin. “We’ll take turns asking each other very personal questions. If you don’t want to answer, you have to eat one of these delightful delicacies laid out in front of you. Simple enough?”
Fabien eyed the spread with a mix of curiosity and mild horror. “I already regret coming on this show.”
Y/N laughed, clearly enjoying Fabien’s discomfort. “Oh, come on, it’s just a bit of fun… or pure torture. Same difference.”
James started off, picking up a card with a wicked smile. “Y/N, we’ll start with you. Which of your House of the Dragon co-stars is the biggest diva on set?”
Y/N’s eyes widened, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Oh no, you’re really trying to get me into trouble here, aren’t you?”
James wiggled his eyebrows, holding up a plate of beetle jelly. “Well, you could always try this lovely treat instead.”
Y/N grimaced, glancing at the plate before shaking her head. “You know what? I’m just going to say it… Matt Smith. But only because he insists on having his tea just the right way, and if it’s not perfect, he sends it back!”
The audience roared with laughter, and James looked positively delighted. “Matt Smith, the tea diva! Who knew?”
James nodded appreciatively. “Okay, so Y/N’s not backing down. Fabien, let’s see if you’re as brave. What’s the juiciest piece of gossip you’ve ever heard about a co-star?”
Fabien raised an eyebrow, glancing at the plate in front of him. It was filled with some unidentifiable, gelatinous blob that looked like it might have once been alive. He hesitated for a moment, the audience holding their breath, before he sighed and reached for the fork. “You know what? I think I’ll just eat this… whatever it is.”
The crowd groaned in disappointment as Fabien took a cautious bite, his face contorting in disgust. “Oh, that is vile,” he muttered, barely managing to swallow.
James laughed, clearly chuffed by Fabien’s reaction. “Oh, you’re going to regret that later! Alright, let’s keep this going. Y/N, who’s your celebrity crush?”
Y/N flashed a sly grin, completely unfazed. “Fabien already knows this—I’ve had the biggest crush on Mads Mikkelsen for as long as I can remember. Zero shame here,” she declared, raising her hands in playful surrender.
Fabien nodded sagely. “Understandable. I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s Mads Mikkelsen we’re talking about.”
James smirked, turning the tables on Fabien. “Alright, Fabien, since you love a good bit of gossip… Who’s the worst kisser you’ve ever worked with?”
The crowd ooohed in anticipation, and Fabien’s eyes widened slightly. He glanced at the plate in front of him—this time, it was a glass of clam juice. He sighed, clearly torn, before finally muttering, “I’m sorry, but I’d rather not end my career tonight.”
Fabien then downed the clam juice as if he is taking a shot, his face scrunching up in pure disgust. “That’s… that’s really something,” he choked out, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
James was in his element, loving every minute of the chaos. “Oh, this is too good. Let’s keep going, shall we?”
The game continued with more outrageous questions and even more disgusting foods. Y/N held her own, answering questions with wit and humor, while Fabien’s love for gossip almost got the best of him several times—though he managed to dodge some of the more damning questions by bravely (or foolishly) sampling the revolting dishes.
Finally, James delivered the knockout punch—a question so juicy that even Fabien, with all his gossip-loving tendencies, knew he couldn’t answer it. “Fabien, have you ever had a romantic relationship with one of your House of the Dragon co-stars?”
The crowd gasped, leaning in closer, and even Y/N’s eyes widened as she glanced at Fabien. The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing every flicker of emotion as he considered his options. After a long, tense pause, Fabien shook his head, smiling ruefully.
“James, I’m not going to give you that satisfaction,” he said, reaching for the plate in front of him. It was a stomach-turning concoction of pig’s blood and fermented tofu. He grimaced as he brought it to his lips, the audience groans and visibly shudders as he took the plunge.
Fabien swallowed the foul mixture, his face is a bit green now, before slamming the cup back on the table. “That… was a mistake,” he gasped, earning a round of applause from the audience.
James was doubled over, barely holding it together as genuine tears of laughter streamed down his face. “Well, Fabien, I think you’ve earned yourself a spot in the ‘Spill Your Guts’ Hall of Fame. This was absolutely brilliant.”
Y/N leaned over as she patted Fabien on the back. “You’re a better man than me. I’d have cracked.”
Fabien shook his head, finally managing to swallow. “I think I just did. That was the worst decision of my life.”
Y/N and Fabien collapsed back into their chairs, sharing a triumphant yet slightly delirious high-five, both still reeling from the culinary horrors they had just endured. Fabien was barely holding it together, his face a mix of pride and regret, while Y/N was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
“Honestly,” Y/N gasped, “I think we’ve just signed ourselves up for a week of bed rest and a diet of nothing but bland toast and water. Our bodies are probably planning a revolt as we speak.”
Fabien nodded, still trying to scrape the taste of whatever monstrosity he’d just eaten off his tongue. “If I don’t end up with food poisoning after this, it’ll be a miracle. I can already feel my stomach sending out SOS signals.”
James slapped the table repeatedly, trying to catch his breath. “Well, I hope you two have plenty of detox plans, because after tonight, I’m pretty sure your bodies will never forgive you!”
Y/N wiped the sweat that has trickled down the side of her face, nodding in agreement. “I’m going to need a cleanse, a prayer, and probably an exorcism after this.”
Fabien slumped back in his chair, looking over at Y/N with a half-serious expression. “If we survive this, we’re never doing this show again. I think my taste buds are filing for divorce.”
James finally wraps up the segment. “Well folks, I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve just witnessed the bravest—or maybe the most foolish—duo in late-night history. Let’s give it up for Y/N and Fabien, who are probably going to be recovering from this for the next decade!”
The audience roared with applause, and Y/N and Fabien, still laughing through the pain, waved to the crowd, knowing full well they’d be regretting every bite once the cameras stopped rolling.
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Y/N had never been one for the spotlight outside of her acting career, especially not on social media. Her TikTok account was mostly where she reposted fan edits, clips from House of the Dragon, and the occasional behind-the-scenes moment that her fans seemed to devour with endless enthusiasm.
But something had changed recently. Maybe it was the thrill of the show’s success, or perhaps it was Fabien’s relentless teasing about her being a “social media ghost” compared to other Gen Z stars. Whatever it was, she decided it was time for her first proper post.
Sitting cross-legged on the couch in her cozy London flat, Y/N set up her phone on the coffee table, propping it up with a stack of books to get the angle just right. She tapped into TikTok and scrolled through the various trends until she landed on one that had been making the rounds lately: the Hi kids, this is your mother trend, where people documented their current lives as a kind of digital time capsule for their future children. It was sweet, a bit nostalgic, and seemed harmless enough.
With a deep breath and a quick fluff of her hair, she hit record.
“Hi kids, this is your mother!” she began, her voice soft and slightly hesitant. “I’m recording this to give you a little glimpse into what my life was like before you were born. It’s 2024, and I’m currently starring as Princess Daenaera Targaryen on House of the Dragon. It’s a bit surreal, really, playing a character so different from who I am in real life.”
She paused, glancing around the room, trying to think of what else to say. “I’m in London right now, and this is my flat. It’s not much, but it’s home. I spend most of my time here, reading scripts, watching movies, and sometimes even attempting to cook. I’m still terrible at it, by the way.”
Y/N chuckled at her own self-deprecation, her smile genuine and warm. “I don’t know if you’ll end up seeing this, or if TikTok will even exist by the time you’re watching it, but I thought it would be fun to document this moment in time. Who knows what the future holds?”
She was about to wrap up the video when, out of nowhere, Fabien appeared behind her, his face suddenly filling the screen. “Hi kids, this is your father,” he said with a wide grin, throwing a casual arm around her shoulders.
Y/N gasped in surprise, her eyes widening as she turned to look at him, completely caught off guard. “Fabien! What are you doing?” she exclaimed, though she couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up in her throat.
Fabien's sudden appearance had completely derailed Y/N’s carefully planned TikTok, but the impish grin on his face told her that he was thoroughly enjoying every second of it. Her initial shock melted into laughter.
“You absolute menace!” she managed between giggles, trying and failing to push him out of the frame. Fabien, of course, wasn’t going anywhere. He plopped down next to her, still beaming as if he’d just pulled off the prank of the century.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “You know this video needed a bit of excitement. Imagine our future kids watching this and thinking, ‘Wow, Mum was a bit dull before Dad showed up.’”
Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. Fabien took full advantage, leaning into the camera and continuing his monologue.
“Listen up, kids,” he began in an exaggerated, serious tone, “this is the flat where your mum and dad first started dating. That’s right, you heard me—dating! It’s where we had our first fight over who’s worse at cooking—spoiler alert, it’s me—and where we binge-watched the entire Grey’s Anatomy series.”
Y/N’s laughter reached a new peak at that, her attempts to shut him up devolving into her grabbing a pillow and whacking him over the head with it. Fabien, undeterred, grabbed the pillow out of her hands and used it as a makeshift shield.
“And yes, kids,” he continued, voice muffled by the pillow he now held in front of his face, “this is also where I successfully defended myself against your mother’s violent tendencies. Never forget, I’m a survivor.”
“Oh, my God, you’re impossible!” Y/N cried out. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess from all the tussling, but she didn’t care. The camera was still rolling, capturing every crazed, unfiltered moment.
With a dramatic sigh, Fabien lowered the pillow and turned his attention back to the camera. “In all seriousness, kids, your mum’s amazing. She’s smart, funny, and way out of my league, and I still can’t believe she puts up with me.”
Y/N’s laughter softened into something more tender, and she glanced at Fabien, her heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it always did whenever he said something sweet. “You’re not so bad yourself, Frankel,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.
Fabien grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “See, kids? That’s the kind of love and affection you’ve got to look forward to.”
At this point, Y/N realized that what had started as a simple TikTok trend had morphed into something else—possibly an accidental relationship announcement to the world.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she murmured, half to herself.
Fabien chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Neither can I, but it’s too late now. The world’s about to find out.”
Y/N sat up, composing herself just enough to address the camera one last time. “So, yeah… I guess this is how we’re telling you all that we’re dating. Surprise?”
Fabien flashed the camera a peace sign and a cheeky grin. “Surprise! Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got to tackle the laundry mountain that’s threatening to take over our place. Priorities, right?”
With that, Y/N finally stopped the recording, her cheeks still aching from all the laughter. She turned to Fabien, who was watching her with that infuriatingly adorable smile of his.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing again.
Fabien shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Hey, at least it wasn’t boring.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the affection in her gaze. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Fabien pulls her into his arms for a quick, playful kiss. “Now, let’s see how much chaos we can unleash on the world.”
Y/N hit post and not even a minute later, the notifications are piling up at an alarming rate. Comments were flooding in, ranging from shocked reactions to excited squeals to memes being born in real time.
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𝙊𝙈𝙁𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔’𝙍𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂?! 𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙄𝙏! 𝙄 𝙆𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙄𝙏! 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙋 𝙄𝙎 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙇!!!
[𝙃𝙞 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧] 𝙁𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙚𝙡 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙗𝙞𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 💀💀💀
𝙁𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙, 𝙄’𝙢 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙤𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙒𝙖𝙧 𝙄𝙄𝙄 𝙤𝙣 𝙏𝙞𝙠𝙏𝙤𝙠
𝙍𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙤 🙋♂️🙋♀️🙋♂️
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“Wow, they really don’t waste any time, do they?” Y/N muttered, scrolling through the chaos. She looked up at Fabien, who was casually folding a pile of clothes as if they hadn’t just set the fandom on a rampage.
Fabien glanced over, grinning as he picked up his own phone. “Well, since we’re already in the middle of this, might as well show them how glamorous our lives really are.”
Without missing a beat, he snapped a quick selfie of the two of them, surrounded by piles of laundry. He captioned it, When you’re done breaking the internet but still have to tackle Mount Laundry. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he posted it to his Instagram story.
“There,” he said, holding up his phone to show Y/N the post. “Let’s see how they react to that.”
Y/N glanced at the screen and snorted. “Dork. You really just did that?”
“Of course,” Fabien replied, deadpan. “We’ve got to keep it real.”
“Honestly, they’re probably more impressed by the fact that we’re actually doing laundry on a Sunday,” Y/N joked, tossing a pair of socks at Fabien.
He caught them with a grin. “Just wait until they find out we actually sort the whites from the colors. Y’know mind-blowing stuff.”
As they continued sorting clothes, the laughter between them never faded.
#hotd#hotd fandom#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon s2#fabien frankel#fabien frankel x reader#fabien frankel x y/n#ser criston cole#criston cole#ser criston
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Rivals To Lovers | Regulus Black x Reader Oneshot
The air around us is thick with anticipation for the game. As my teammates and I are getting ready we chatter excitedly about the game. Games against Slytherin are always enjoyable since both teams always get fueled with competitive rivalry.
I feel a strong pat on my back and look up to see James grinning at me. “Kick Black’s ass for all of us, got it?” I grin back at him. James is always the one who is pumping us all up before matches, and it works wonders for our morale.
He always makes sure we are fully prepared for our opponents regardless of the house we’re facing. I nod my head vigorously as I get more excited. Regulus and I have always been known to get on each other's nerves especially when it comes to us both fighting for the Snitch.
Some of the others cheer at James’s words and I can’t help but laugh. I absolutely adore everyone on the team and how supportive they all are. I put on my last bit of gear as Marlene walks up to me.
She gives me a wink and pats me on the back. "You ready to kick some ass?" A grin forms on her face, clearly excited for the game about to start.
“You know it.” I grin back at her. Marlene gives a loud cheer causing our other teammates to look in our direction. I see Sirius snicker from across the room as James rounds us up into a circle.
He gives us all one last pep talk before ushering us out onto the field. We all exit the locker rooms and line up, our brooms in our hands. We face the other team as they mirror us. The sky is clear, no sign of rain. Our last match against Slytherin was horrid with how bad the rain was coming down.
The crowd is going wild already, the stands packed with people. Regulus and I make eye contact as he finds his place in front of me. The air between us has the usual charge of tension as we look at each other.
I can see the competitive fire in his eyes and it's clear he wants nothing more than to win. He gives me a slight nod, his face stoic as ever. I nod back at him in return before getting my broom in the proper position. I can tell this will be a fun game. Our eyes break away for each other as we see the referee getting ready to throw the Quaffle into the air.
“Hope you prepared to lose this match Black.” I say with a smirk as the Quaffle goes up and all of the players immediately get on their brooms and begin to fly in the stadium.
I watch the Quaffle get hit back and forth as my eyes scan for any sight of the Snitch. The cheers fluctuate in volume anytime one of the teams is close to getting a point but I do my best to block it out.
My mind was so focused on finding the Snitch that I didn’t even realize someone was next to me at first. I jump at the sound of Regulus' voice. “See anything yet.”
I turn my head to look at him. “Do you honestly think I’d give you an answer to that question?” He smirks at my response, making me glare at him slightly.
“It seems as though (Y/N) and Regulus are starting their little feud a bit early in the match today.” Remus says from the announcer stand, catching my attention.
I have to hold back a smile. Comments like that usually get on my nerves cause it puts more attention on Regulus and I but for once it was helpful.
“Nice chat but I’ll be going now, Black.” I say before zooming off to trail the Snitch. Thank you Remus for helping me find it. I chuckle slightly as I hear him curse under his breath.
Regulus is very competitive. Almost as much as I am which makes these games even more enjoyable. The seekers on the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams are good but Regulus is the closest to my skill level. He makes me actually want to put effort into winning.
I can feel him gaining on me making me speed up a bit more, my eyes never leaving the Snitch. The air around us nearly hums with our energy as we weave through the other players.
A small gasp comes out of my mouth as I stop my broom short. I blink rapidly as the Quaffle just barely misses me. I scan the area to see one of the Slytherin beater’s snickers.
All of the Gryffindors watching the match begin to boo, causing the Slytherin side to get even more riled up. I hear James call out to me from his position but I can’t hear him over all of the noise. “What?” I say, my own voice getting drowned out. He repeats himself as I read his lips. “You alright?” I nod my head and give him a thumbs up.
Regulus fly’s up next to me again. As I glance at him I can tell he’s extremely pissed off. "That was on purpose." He says as his jaw clenches slightly. "That bastard was deliberately aiming for you."
I let out a small sigh. “Don’t go all protective mode on me right now. We’re in the middle of a match.” His scowl deepens at my words. "You almost got hit by a quaffle." He says, his voice low and dark. "Forgive me for being upset about."
“Can you be upset about it later? It’s going to look out of character right now.” I lower my voice as well. “I’m fine. I'm not hurt. That’s all that matters.”
His mind is racing making it hard for me to keep a neutral look on my face. I love how protective he is when it comes to me but I would rather avoid others noticing it right now.
“Another point for Gryffindor. Guess Slytherin can’t keep up with us today.” A small smack sound emits from the announcer stand as Remus gets hit on the back of the head slightly by McGonagall.
I take a moment to look up at the announcer stand and I see Remus rub the back of his head while McGonagall looks at him in disapproval. I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head at the sight.
“You sure you’re fine?” Regulus’s voice gets my attention again as I nod. “I’m fine I promise.” He continues to look at me for a moment, a flicker of worry and protectiveness flashing on his face before disappearing.
I see his eyes dart from mine and I immediately pick up on why. I spin my head around as I see the Snitch as well. It's right there, in both of our sights. I watch it flutter near the stands and take off, my body pushing me forward. I feel all of my focus hone in on the Snitch.
Regulus and I are side by side as we chase the Snitch. Anytime one of us gains a bit of space the other catches up quickly after. The Snitch makes many fast turns and drives but that only makes us increase our speed.
Adrenaline pumps into my body, making my muscles tense. I've never had such a close chase for the Snitch before. I can see him from the corner of my eye, his face a mix of concentration and determination.
My fingers tighten their grip about my broom as I lean further down to increase my speed. I see him copy my movements making me grumble slightly. “Copycat much?”
"I need to catch the Snitch somehow," He replies, his voice slightly strained. "Not my fault you have some good techniques." I continue to follow you closely, my eyes glued to the Snitch as I process his words.
“Didn’t expect to get a compliment from you on the field.” I tease as I reach my hand out to try and grab the Snitch. He just rolls his eyes before reaching his own hand out.
Each time one of us tries to grab the Snitch, the other is right there too. We're so closely matched that it's almost irritating me. “Come on.” I mumble under my breath as I stretch my arm out even further.
Again he copies my movements, the Snitch grazing his fingertips making me slightly panic. There is no way I’m going to let him win. I won’t let Slytherin win.
An idea pops in my head. I’ve never actually attempted this trick outside of practice, and definitely never at a speed like this. The Han around my broomstick clenches as I debate if it’s worth trying.
A small growl comes out of Regulus as he tries to grasp the Snitch again. I make up my mind and start to shift my position slightly on my broom. Please don’t fall off. I repeat in my mind as I steady myself while beginning to stand.
Regulus notices my shift and immediately slows his broom down slightly. “What are you doing?” He asks with an alarmed tone. I keep my eyes on the Snitch as I answer him. “Winning.”
"By attempting something that is incredibly dangerous and could result in you falling off your broom?" He says, his voice laced with irritation and concern.
“Exactly what I’m doing.” I nod my head in confirmation. He watches in horror as I rise onto my broom and start to walk towards the end. "Do not do—" Regulus starts to say, but cuts himself off as he sees me grab the Snitch. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."
My eyes light up as my hand grabs a hold of the snitch. That little bit of extra length was all I needed. I cheer loudly and raise the Snitch up in my hand before wobbling slightly.
I readjust myself to sit on my broom properly before continuing to celebrate. “Hah I won this time.” I say with a grin as I hold it out in front of Regulus’s face.
"I can see that." He grumbled, his expression turning into a full-on scowl. Despite his irritation at my victory, I can tell he has a small rush of pride at my ability to win like that. "You're bloody insane, you know that?"
The Gryffindor section cheers loudly as the Slytherins sulk slightly at the outcome. We both begin to fly down to the center of the field where we started as I reply back. “I know. But you love this side of me.”
He let out a huff of irritation, but can’t help the subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth at my words. “You’re ridiculous,” He finally responds while shaking his head, but there is a lack of annoyance in his words.
As we land we both dismount our brooms. I immediately get swept up by my teammates as Sirius and James lift me up on their shoulders, cheering with the rest of our team.
I see Regulus roll his eyes as James and Sirius parade me around the field. It wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor victory if they didn't parade me around. I can’t help but laugh out loud at their antics. After they get tired of carrying me around they place me back down on the grass and each of our teammates gives me a pat on the back.
My eyes roam to Regulus every now and then as he watches from the sidelines. As Marlene pulls me into a side hug one of Regulus’s teammates pulls him towards their respective team room to change and leave the field.
“We’re going to have the best party tonight in the common room.” Sirius grins at me as we all begin to head to our own designated room to change as well.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
I yawn slightly as I sit outside of the Slytherin common room. I expected someone to come out of the entrance by now. I usually don’t have to wait this long to sneak inside. Regulus and I should really pick times for when we meet at each other’s common rooms.
My eyes begin to close as I lean my head against a pillar. I hear faint footsteps but ignore them, keeping my eyes closed. I then hear a snicker making me open my eyes. “Having fun down there love?” Regulus asks with a smirk on his face.
“Did you have me wait out here as payback for winning?” I playfully whined before reaching my hands out indirectly asking him to pull me up.
He chuckles softly, taking my hands in his and pulling me up to my feet. "Maybe a little bit." His eyes roam over me for a moment, taking in my appearance. "You look tired."
“I’m exhausted.” I say as I wrap my hands around his waist and lean my head against his chest. Regulus wraps his arms around me as his hands run soothing circles on my back.
“You’re probably exhausted from that ridiculous stunt you pulled to win.” He teases. I look up at him and puff my cheeks out. “No, I've been practicing that for a while. I’m tired cause your brother and James throw insane parties. Gryffindor parties are not for the weak.”
Regulus let out a bark of laughter, his hands drifting to my hips. “Yeah well, that tends to happen when James and Sirius are involved.” I start to laugh, leaning my head back on his chest.
Regulus pulls me closer against his body. "You were impressive today though. Don't think I didn't notice how good you are out there on the field." A smile forms on my lips as I look up at him.
Without saying anything my hands go up to his face as I pull him towards me, kissing him gently. A small hum emits in his throat as my lips meet his.
His hands grip my hips a little tighter, holding me against him as our kiss deepens. A moment later he breaks away from the kiss, our eyes locking on one another. “You were pretty good out there too.” I return the compliment as my smile grows.
“Of course I was.” He says with a smirk, leaning down to brush his nose against mine. “Not that you can blame me for being distracted when I had such a good view the whole time.”
I laugh again from his comment. “Alright, sure. We'll go with that as the reason you lost.” Regulus rolls his eyes at your response but there's no irritation behind them.
He leans his forehead against mine as I move my hands to rest on his shoulders. "You're lucky I love you." I hum lowly. “I love you too.”
#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus x reader#black brothers#harry potter fandom#Harry Potter#the marauders#the marauders era#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#James potter#x reader#x reader fluff#oneshot fanfiction#cross posted on wattpad#cross posted on ao3#sirius black#marlene mckinnon#they have a whole quidditch rivalry btw#quidditch#rivals#rivals to lovers#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#secret relationship#gryffindor#slytherin#gryffindor reader#Quaffle#snitch
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I'm gonna fly straight to you
Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader
Contents: Fluff
Summary:You and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.
Words: ~694
A/N: Hey again! Haha, well, I hope you dig it and forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading.
You and Damiano are lying in bed at a cool hotel room, it's almost sunrise, but you're still wide awake, chatting about all the things you dig about the world and each other. Damiano is in the midst of their tour, so it's been tough for you both to find quality time together. But now, you've hit your limit and couldn't bear being apart any longer, so Damiano figured out a way to fix that, whisking you away to the country they're visiting this weekend. You should be catching some Z's, Damiano, especially since he was rocking it on stage a few hours ago and will have to be back again in a few hours to jam out for the upcoming day that's about to kick off. "You need to sleep and get some rest, and I should let you do that, but damn, it feels amazing being all cozy in this bed with you. Your voice so close to my ear is pure bliss." Damiano leans in even closer, plants a sweet kiss on the top of your head, and whispers, "In just a few weeks, we'll have endless nights like this until the next tour kicks off. Can't fucking wait." "I can't wait too! I'm gonna be glued to you every single night, and you better get ready, 'Cause you'll be serenading me with all those love songs you've been keeping under wraps," you exclaim, bubbling with excitement . Damiano chuckles, thrilled at the idea of finally unveiling those unfinished and top-secret tunes he's been penning to soothe the ache of longing whenever you're apart. "Let's have epic nights filled with those tunes," he suggests, and you grin, eagerly anticipating those days that are just a tad out of reach. "Oh, we should totally hit up that spot we spotted on Instagram! Let's take a rad getaway, it's gonna be pure magic," you mused, lost in daydreams of the two of you chilling in a cozy beachfront cottage, frolicking in the waves . And out of the blue, you and Damiano were brainstorming ideas for mini adventures during the gap between Måneskin tours. Like always, when you two dive into future plans, you get lost in a world of fantasies, reveling in the joy of envisioning a shared future. Your love is so strong that even the simplest of plans they conjure up are bound to be epic. "I gotta confess, I thrive on the tour energy and the love from our fans when we're rockin' the stage, but you know what I love even more? Snuggling up with you every night and waking up by your side every mornin' ," he declares, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "And drift off in each other's embrace." You interject, sporting a grin. You carry on talking about the your future, but you notice Damiano speaking with his eyes shut, seemingly drained and on the brink of succumbing to exhaustion. "Rest, amore mio," you murmur, planting a tender kiss on their cheek. "Hmmm, nope. I ain't dozing off, still wide awake," he responds with a drowsy tone. You can't help but beam at the sheer charm oozing from this guy, who's holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings. "I don't wanna sleep, y/n. 'Cause having you by my side feels so damn good, I don't want this to end and then spend weeks and weeks apart from you again. "Chillax, cuore mio. Soon we'll be reunited and have a blast with all our epic plans and then some, alright?" you reply. "Alright, let's sleep then. That way we'll be one step closer to that awesome future," Damiano says, feeling more at ease with his response. "I love you, Damiano. Sweet dreams." "I love you too, y/n. I fucking love you." And just like that, the two of you drifted off to sleep. You in Damiano's cozy inked arms and he in yours, just as it will be soon.
#Må#Måneskin#damiano david#damiano maneskin#damiano david x reader#damiano david x you#damiano david fic#damiano david fluff#maneskin imagine
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Words in the Dust - Tommy Miller x Reader
Summary: Tommy has a surprise for you
Words: 2.3K
Warnings: fluff
Notes: can make a spicy part two if y’all want it
Y/N’s POV
“Please can I open my eyes now,” I’m begging, feeling rather unbalanced atop my horse while Tommy is leading the way, a proud chuckles the only response I get from him. He woke me up bright and early, telling me to get dressed and that we were going on an adventure which I could not say no to. Like I’d say no to spending quality, alone time with Tommy anyway. The man doesn’t know how head over heels I am for him and currently I’d like to keep it that way in fear he’ll leave me if he finds out I want more than this.
“We’re almost there.” Tommy finally speaks, voice low and soothing, not knowing what he does to me. He’s chuckling again as I squirm in my saddle, the sound of hooves hitting concrete my only hint at where we are. The air carries a different scent to the familiarity of the woods we were in before. It’s a mixture of dampness, like the smell of water damage, and something more subtle but familiar. I take in a deep breath, trying to decipher the aroma. It’s an intriguing blend, both earthy and urban, with a hint of something reminiscent of forgotten dreams.
As Tommy leads us further along what I’m assuming is a road, the scents intensify. I can sense a shift in the atmosphere, a transition from the openness of nature to something more enclosed. The air growing denser, carrying whispers of an unseen world around me. It’s like with every passing moment, the scents become more and more pronounced. I catch a whiff of aged concrete and traces of old life, intermingled with the faint sweetness of nature.
“Tom-“
“Alright sweetheart,” Tommy cuts me off, our horses coming to a stop and I can sense his presence as he dismounts. The next moment, his strong and familiar hands find my waist, guiding me out of my saddle and onto my feet. My heart quickening in response, anticipation flooding my veins. He’s guiding me forwards, my feet stumbling a little on the road and he catches me immediately, pulling me so close I can feel the rumble in his chest and can smell the vanilla cologne he uses.
“Open your eyes darlin’.” He whispers, voice filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. His breath ghosts my neck and my skin is ablaze at how close he is, stubble grazing my ear. The air is pregnant with anticipation, and I can practically taste the moment about to unfold.
With a flutter of anticipation, I slowly allow my eyes o open, taking in the scene before me. As my vision clears, I see it - a bookshop, standing tall amidst the remnants of the city. Its facade, though weathered and worn, still holds a sense of quiet dignity. It sends a sense of awe flushing through me as I take in the sight. The bookshop stands as a testament to resilience, a place where stories were once shared and cherished. It’s a sanctuary, untouched by the chaos that surrounds it.
The windows, though dusty, hint at the treasures within - a world of knowledge and imagination waiting to be explored. The sight of those books, waiting patiently on the shelves, fills me with a sense of longing and excitement. Here, in this forgotten bookshop, lies the possibility of discovering forgotten tales and unravelling the mysteries of the past.
I takes all my willpower but turn my head, away from the shop and to Tommy, breath hitching in my throat when I realise how close we are, “Thank you Tom,” I say softly, voice filled with genuine appreciation and shaking a little, “This is… it’s perfect.”
Tommy beams, his cognac eyes reflecting the joy I feel in my heart, “I knew you’d like it.” He says, voice filled with satisfaction, mirroring the shit-eating grin he’s got plastered on those oh so kissable lips, “Come on, let’s have a look inside.” He’s finding my hand and gently tugging me forwards. His touch sends shovers down my spine, igniting a fire within me. I willingly follow his lead, our hands intertwined, as we step across the threshold into the realm of forgotten tales and undiscovered secrets.
As we enter, a sense of reverence washes over me. The atmosphere is hushed, as if the books themselves are whispering their stories, inviting us to listen. The air carries a scent of aged paper and ink, an intoxicating perfume that stirs my imagination. Tommy squeezes my hand once more, as if to say ‘I’ll be right here, go have fun’. I’m glancing back at him before I can’t hold back anymore, letting his hand go and speed walking further into the store.
The shelves tower above, adorned with rows upon rows of books, each one a gateway to a different world. The store seems to hold its own pulse, a heartbeat echoing through the hallowed aisles. The books beckoning me, their spines creating a tapestry of faded colours and titles. I’m reaching out, running my fingers along their edges, feeling the roughness of time and the stories they hold. The touch of each book leaves a trace of dusk on my fingers, evidence of their neglected beauty.
With every step, I’m immersed in the world of literature, captivated by the diversity of genres and subjects. Fiction to non-fiction intermingle, classics and contemporary works sharing the same space, creating a rich tapestry of knowledge and imagination. The shelves seem to lean in, drawing me closer to their secrets. The books whisper to me, their stories screaming to be heard. There are books of all shapes and sizes, their bindings worn with age, yet still holding the allure of untold tales. Some have cracked spines, evidence of well-loved companions that have been read and reread over the years. Others remain pristine, waiting patiently for someone to embark on their first adventure.
Amidst the whispers of the books, I barely register Tommy’s voice calling me from somewhere to my right, “Darling?” My attention is wholly captured by the enchantment of the bookshop, its allure irresistible. I lose myself in the exploration, feeling like an intrepid explorer venturing into uncharted territory.
But then, as if guided by an invisible thread, I catch a glimpse of Tommy down another aisle. He has a book in hand, head bowed as he scans the pages. My heart swells at the sight : the evening light casts a warm glow upon him, illuminating his curly black hair that dances with silver strands, a testament to the passage of time. His features are a captivating blend of rugged masculinity and boyish charm.
His sun-kissed skin, smooth and inviting, beckons to be touched. The freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and nose only add to his allure, lending him an innocent air that contrasts beautifully with his masculine presence. His russet eyes, normally vibrant and lively, take on a lighter cognac hue in the evening light. The curls that frame his face fall with casual elegance, their playful tendrils adding to his charismatic appeal. A small goatee and well-groomed moustache accentuates his strong jawline.
Tommy's attire complements his physique impeccably. The blue button-up shirt he wears hugs his broad chest and sculpted arms, accentuating his strength. His blue denim jacket, lined with soft fleece, adds an extra layer of rugged charm to his ensemble. With every movement, the fabric of his clothing molds to the contours of his body, hinting at the toned muscles beneath. My eyes trace the lines of his silhouette, lingering on his muscular arms and thick thighs, fuelling memories of stolen glances and late-night fantasies. The juxtaposition of his physical strength and boyish innocence creates an irresistible magnetism that has ensnared my heart.
Lost in the moment, I revel in the sight of Tommy, the embodiment of both ruggedness and tenderness. As he turns a page in the book he holds, his brows furrow in concentration, his features reflecting a mixture of curiosity and fascination. It's moments like these that make me fall even deeper for him, appreciating not only his physical beauty but also his intellectual depth.
As if feeling me watching him, he looks up, those warm eyes lighting up and silently beckoning me over. It’s like my feet have a mind of their own as I’m moving towards him, unable to resist him. The air crackles with anticipation, a tangible energy that draws us closer, as if we share a secret language, unspoken words floating between us.
He sets the book aside, his gaze never leaving mine, and takes a step closer. The space between us seems to shrink, the world around us fading into insignificance. His voice low and husky, reaches my ears like a sweet melody.
“Couldn’t resist joining me, could you?” He teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. His fingers brush against mine, sending a shiver of electricity through my body, “I though the books had captured your heart completely.”
A soft chuckle escapes my lips, my gaze locked with his, “The books can wait,” I reply, my voice filled with a mixture of playfulness and longing, “But you… you’re far too captivating to resist.”
I’m not sure where this confidence is coming from as the moment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken desire. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Tommy’s guiding me backwards, my back gently meeting the edge of one of the bookshelves. The sensation sends a thrill coursing through my veins, heightening the intensity of the moment. He closes the distance between us, body pressed against mine, creating a delicious friction that ignites a fire within me.
I can feel his warm breath against my lips as he leans in, his eyes locked with mine, a playful smirk gracing his features. His proximity sets my heart racing, anticipation mingling with desires. It’s a tantalising dance, a game of seduction we are both willingly partaking in. His lips hovering just inches away from mine, teasingly close yet keeping me yearning for me. The anticipation builds, the tension thickening with each passing second. I can almost taste the sweetness of his kiss, feel the gentle pressure of his lips against mine.
But Tommy lingers, relishing in the whine that leaves my throat, His eyes trace the contours of my face, gaze filled with longing and unspoken promises. He’s a master of seduction, teasing me with his proximity, making me ache for the connection we both crave. I’m desperate for him to stop teasing, biting my lower lip, a subtle invitation, a silent plea for him to close the gap. The desire in my eyes matches his own, fuelled by a love that yearns to be fully expressed. My fingertips graze the fabric of his jacket, yearning to pull him closer and feel his lips on mine.
It seems to be all that it takes for Tommy to give in to the magnetic pull. His lips collide with mine in a passionate, intoxicating kiss. The kiss is a symphony of passion, each movement carefully orchestrated to convert the depth of our desire. Tommy’s hands, strong yet tender, find their place on the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. The heat of his touch sears through the fabric of my clothing, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. His fingers dance with gentle urgency, tracing delicate patterns along my spine, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake.
Our mouths move in perfect synchrony, a dance of exploration and longing. His lips, soft yeet insistent, mold against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. The taste of him, a delicious combination of warmth and desire, fills my sense, leaving me intoxicated and craving more. The faint scent of old books and dust mingles with the subtle aroma of Tommy's cologne, creating a unique fragrance that becomes synonymous with this passionate encounter. It's a heady mixture, evoking a sense of nostalgia and excitement, as if we have stepped into our own private realm of desire and intimacy.
As the kiss deepens, our bodies press against each other, seeking closer connection. I can feel the steady rhythm of Tommy’s heartbeat, a steady thump against my chest, perfectly mirroring the racing of my own heart. The heat between us intensifies, our shared breaths becoming more ragged and urgent, as if trying to convey the depths of our emotions without words.
In this stolen moment, the world falls away, leaving only the intoxicating taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace, and the undeniable connection that binds us together. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes.
And as we reluctantly break the kiss, our lips parting with a soft, lingering brush, a sense of both longing and contentment fills the air, “Darlin, you’re like a drug. Can’t get enough of you, fuck… I need you.”
“I need you too.” I’m choking out, heat pooling between my thighs, making me gain the confidence to guide him to a table full of books stacked high. An animalistic desire in me has me shoving all the books aside, the toppling of them to the floor sounding like an earthquake but I don’t care with the way Tommy’s looking at me. His eyes so dark they’re almost black when I hop up onto the table and spread my legs enough to pull in between them, drawing him down for another kiss,
“But your books…” He murmurs, with very little resistance to the impending kiss.
“We can get more.”
---------------
The Last of Us Masterlist
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@iraot @gemimawrites @zynbsblog @twopercentmilk @urnewghostfriend @grooveandshit @canpillowscry @jell0buss-37 @androgynousgaz @not-a-unique-snowflake89 @certifiedhunter @emmulus22 @mediocrewallflow3r @itsmoonchik @kalllistos @randomhoex @fariylixie0915 @marvelsimps @pedritosdarling @phoenixxtay @angsty-twihardxx @rav3n-pascal22 @cowboychickenlittle @katmoonz @scoliobean @casa-boiardi @cutesyscreenname @carlgrimeskisser @mydailyhyperfixations @malewife-cas @paleidiot @brittmb115
#Tommy miller#tommy miller x y/n#Tommy miller x reader#tommy miller x you#Tommy miller fluff#Tommy miller smut#Tommy miller angst#Tommy miller Drabble#Tommy miller one shot#Tommy miller hbo#the last of us#the last of us 2#the last of us x you#the last of us x reader#the last of us x y/n#tlou#tlou2#tlou x reader#tlou x fluff#tlou x you#tlou x y/n#tlou fluff#tlou angst#tlou smut#Gabriel luna
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You’re probably tired of so much KaliJami but headcanons for RSA!Kalim x NRC!Jamil?
Also, how do you feel about genderbent? Like one of them is female or both are female? I’m sorry if you answered this before.
Not at all! We’re not tired of KaliJami, we actually like them very much, so please don’t worry and keep asking if you want to. It just takes a while to get to them with all the other ships, as you must’ve noticed...
Ohh, RSA!Kalim and NRC!Jamil!.. Sounds fun, we’ve actually discussed a little bit the fact that before Kalim was transferred to NRC, he could’ve been in RSA – because where else would he be? I mean, we just don’t really know other schools, and RSA is known for its over the top goody two shoes. But before I list a couple of headcanons, I’ll answer your other question.
In general, we love genderswap, I draw genderbent characters from shows we’re into from time to time. But it doesn’t work as well for us with twst for some reason? It’s hard to explain, and we’re not opposed to it: there is some really pretty art out there with genderbent characters from twst. But I guess it’s just unlikely that we’ll draw or post anything, although you can never know for certain with us lol
We also tend to genderbend both characters because this world needs more girl+girl couples with interesting and messed up dynamics. A lot of times this is our main motivation.
Alright, so headcanons…
Kalim misses Jamil a lot. For the first time in their lives they’re separated like this, and it affects Kalim on a much deeper level than he anticipated. He has a lot of friends in RSA, he has a bunch of servants that went to live with him since Jamil isn’t around, but it’s not the same without Jamil. Simply because of that Kalim is actually having a hard time at RSA, even though he spends his days laughing and hanging out with Che’nya, the gnomes, Neige and pretty much any other RSA guy.
Kalim messages Jamil every day, writes him letters, calls him, he is actually quite obnoxious about it. Jamil is very annoyed by it and doesn’t always reply, but if Kalim were to stop texting him for like 5 hours, Jamil would probably get concerned about his well-being and call him. The codependence is strong.
Jamil visits Kalim at RSA more often that he would like to admit; sometimes Kalim asks him to help, sometimes Jamil feels that he needs to check on Kalim because something was weird about him the last time they talked. He also sends him food regularly and even helps with his homework… he does a lot of things he does in canon, but now he also has to travel back and forth for it. Jamil really hates it, and it’s not like he absolutely has to do it, Kalim isn’t forcing him to, but he just can’t help it. When he thinks about Kalim being there alone (even with a team of servants), he starts feeling anxious and loses his sleep over this. Which kinda makes him hate Kalim even more… because Jamil really thought that he would be free from all of this for once in his life.
Jamil asked Kalim not to come to NRC several times, but Kalim is very stubborn and excited about the idea of visiting Jamil, checking out his dorm, meeting his new friends, etc. Deep inside, Kalim feels this unusual (to him) and strong jealousy and frustration, because he doesn’t get to hang out with Jamil as much as people from Scarabia do. His first instinct is to befriend them, to get to know them better, in hope that it will make him less jealous and hurt, but this probably won’t work. Although he’ll definitely become a star at NRC rather quickly, because he is loud, charismatic, sweet, and people love him. Jamil, on the other hand, feels absolutely exhausted every time Kalim visits him…
One day Kalim decided to completely ignore Jamil’s pleads not to visit him at NRC (at least because it’s dangerous for Kalim to travel alone) and arrived on his magic carpet. His excuse? “But I really wanted to see you, Jamil! And no one got hurt, so it’s good, it’s good!” I’m sure they unintentionally recreated the balcony scene from Aladdin, granted Jamil was much more tired and done than Jasmin. But they still went on a magic carpet ride, because the alternative option was to let Kalim stay in Scarabia until morning.
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LOTS of feels from the finale today. Both expected and unexpected, the episode was much more wholesome than I think anyone anticipated. Nonetheless, the season still concludes as lacking with Ch 24 not delivering nearly the same impact as the last two seasons
This finale had everything we wanted: Bo vs. Gideon and uniting the Mandalorians; reclaiming Mandalore; Din and Grogu being the best clan of two in every possibly way — BUT, for all the dynamic fights and flashiness, the force of the episode still wasn’t up to par. Although it was triumphant and there was gratification in seeing Bo reclaim her throne and the Imperials be destroyed, it was a feeling more of fulfilling expectation rather than a win we desperately wanted. For me, the only real emotionally-charged scenes were those between Din and Grogu, especially when they were separated and Grogu was left alone with the Red Guards. (That part really got me… almost cried at the thought of something separating them again when they were so close…)
The season was set up to build up and conclude to this final episode where all the Mandalorians retake their planet together. However, and I’m making assumptions here, I think the majority of us still didn’t really care for any Mandalorians other than Din in the end. I’m not saying there weren’t some characters we enjoyed or rooted for, but the connection never came anywhere close to what the audience felt towards Din or others in previous seasons. We think the armorer is cool and lament Paz’s sacrifice, we’re happy for Greef Karga and excited by Carson Teva’s return, but these reactions are built on their familiarity from and we never really have any relationships furthered (past Paz and the reveal of his son). For characters like Bo and the other Rebels cameos, the excitement comes, again, from outside familiarity. For Mandalorian-only viewers, Bo’s entire arc is hollow since it requires so much background from the animated series. Katee did a great job making us invest in the character, but with the limited content in the show, much of this was due to her acting and indict rather than careful construction. While in the past there was an assortment of lovable characters we wanted to see alongside Din, s3 relied too heavily on sentimentality and the frantic nature of the plot was both too hesitantly developed and too spread out for there significant investment in anything
The season 3 finale is this huge win for the Mandalorians as a whole, it’s achievement based on the strong ties of the culture and how they are stronger together. Honestly, we don’t really care. We were rushed into those feelings. We don’t really know these new characters and we’re still learning about the culture as well as our titular character (Din, up until now)
It is jarring for the emotional heart of the show to suddenly switch from the relationship between Din and Grogu to literally all the Mandalorians. Prior seasons have relied on Din and Grogu to provide weight and this also occurs in s3 even though, unlike the past two, their relationship is not the focus
There are no stakes to this finale. The Mandalorians have to win because they are the new focus. The show has hurried them along and forced our commitment to them too fast for their to be any alternative. Din and Grogu have to be alive and reunited because they are still the essence of the show and need to exist on the outskirts of this new narrative. Paz died and as much as we dislike that fact, it is a safe choice — Paz is not a super popular character, though he is liked; his death is more heartbreaking because he’s leaving behind a kid; he embodies the culture, part of a noble house and dies in battle for his clan. That’s it. His death doesn’t even really affect any of the other characters for more than a few minutes
As satisfying as everything was, it wraps some loose ends up a little too cleanly and leaves far too many questions still open or forces too many results for ends to meet. While the s3 finale is good, could even be considered great, the entirety of the rambling season causes it to fall flat. Though there are some standouts, the season as a whole fails to deliver what was promised from the past twos other thoughts are being thunk but this is the most general opinion I can land on for now. Very interested to hear the discourse on this season as time progresses and we can look back on it objectively
#the mandalorian season 3#mandalorian#din djarin#mandalorian and grogu#din and grogu#grogu#mando and grogu#bo katan kryze#the mandalorian#mandalorians#the mandalorion spoilers#mandalorian meta#mandalorian spoilers#mandalore
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17, 20!
Thank u so much!! Talking about books is one of my favorite things!
17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?
There’s def a lot more books that I was expecting to love that I didn’t this year than the opposite (though majority of the books I read were ones I expected to like and I did, but that’s exactly what I expected lol).
Two books I tried on recommendation that I otherwise wouldn’t have picked up on my own and ended up loving are
The Library of the Dead by T.L. Huchu. This one I tore through in like two days. Really cool post cataclysm setting, where things are both familiar but also just slightly off in an unnerving way. There’s some genuinely creepy scenes that really worked for me. And while I find the educational magic aspect of this book to be the least interesting part of the story, I do like it’s conflict with the MC’s Zimbabwean magic and how she is seen as lesser for having not been “properly schooled” but also desperately wanting to be seen as a proper spellcaster. The overall mystery was easy to guess (I knew who the big bad was the moment they were introduced, and what their motives were) but I wanted to read on to find out I was right. And I was right.
Wendy, Darling by A.C. Wise First off, retellings are a hard sell for me, and I don’t like Peter Pan that much to begin with. I read this one bc the rec was so unexpected, but I honestly really enjoyed this. It’s a strong feminist take and explores the ways gender roles constricted both men and women in the early 1910′s. I also enjoyed Peter Pan being the villain, as a boy who gets literally everything he wants. I liked Neverland’s personification, and how it ends up being a living breathing character of its own. It’s a really neat use of the genre of fantasy that I enjoyed.
20. What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?
This year I barely read 2022 releases and with one exception all 2022 releases I read were part of series I was already reading.
A Prayer for the Crown Shy by Becky Chambers. I really like this series. It’s warm and emotional, with wild robots living in nature and an overall utopian setting that I can only hope will be our future. This one expands upon the worldbuilding Chambers establishes in book one, this time exploring various human settlements. I overall liked this one about the same as I liked book one and I think it’s a worthwhile contribution to the series. My only criticism is I believe this is also the last book in the series, and it doesn’t feel finite. The MC’s conflict from book 1 still remains unresolved, but maybe this means they’ll be a book 3?
Hooked by A.C Wise. A sequel to Wendy, Darling. After being blown away by book one, I was excited for this one, particularly because Hook’s absence from book one suggests some intriguing things never explored in book one. I was ultimately let down by this. Everything I really liked about book 1 didn’t carry over into this one. I also would’ve preferred this one to only follow Hook’s POV, rather than bringing the Darlings back into the story again, which forced Wendy and Jane to have the exact same issues and character arc as book one.
I think this book has something to offer to hardcore Peter Pan fans. There’s some interesting ideas but it didn’t hit the same as book one, which make me sad.
Dreams Bigger than Heartbreak by Charlie Jane Anders. I liked this one better than book one. Book one was okay, but compared to Anders’ adult fiction, it didn’t have the same edge I really like about her work. Understandable, this is her foray in YA and I can tell she intentionally wants to give positive space adventures to a cast of LGBT characters. I think that goal makes this series important.
Whereas I think book 1 had a hard take off, book 2 really thrived with multiple POVs allowing the story to take place in vastly different parts of the universe and expanding upon the worldbuilding in a better way than “We’re confined to this traveling ship, so let me just tell you about these various aliens and cultures without seeing their homeworld.” I felt better immersed in this book, as well as came to appreciate the cast of characters better while being able to experience the story through their POV, rather than solely the main character’s.
Also, this book leaves off in a really neat place which makes me eager to read book 3.
Also also the narrator for the audiobook is the VA for Princess Bubblegum and I could not unhear it while listening to the book lol
The one exception
Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree. This one just wasn’t for me. Bringing a cozy mystery into a fantasy setting is a really cool idea that I’m sure many readers will enjoy, and honestly I can see this being the start of a new trend. This was a pleasant read, as it’s intended to be. It’s lacking in world building. I think all fantasy elements could be removed and the story would remain the mostly the same. I also was hoping for some mutual pining between the two main characters, rather than the romance aspect being put off until the end when they finally get together (if I didn’t know it would feature a wlw relationship at its center, I probably wouldn’t have picked up on their attraction towards each other at all). And this last criticism is just a cozy mystery thing, but the lack of tension. A problem would be introduced, the MC would try to fix it and it worked, the problem was resolved. Rinse and repeat until the book concludes. It honestly left me bored. But I can understand why so many people like it, especially if they want a gentle book with the guarantee that everything is going to be alright.
Thanks so much for the ask!
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"A horse farm," the Major echoed with a clear twinkle in his eye, "Were I not so taken by school-teaching, I imagine that would be the perfect job."
“If you admire horses that much, then I imagine you’d be right at home there. My father has every breed you can imagine. Takes beautiful care of them too.”
"Do you ride, Mrs. Woodhull?"
“I do, although it’s been many years since I’ve done so outside of a carriage…”
“There's nothing quite like racing through the countryside with the wind whistling through your hair and the sun shining upon your face, a rush coursing throughout your veins since surely, it's the closest you could ever feel to God."
Goodness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden in such a manner. Surely it hadn’t been since she was a little girl. Mary could easily recall how freeing it’d felt to feel the strong legs of her stallion as he’d galloped across the countryside, every pound of his hooves beating against the ground reverberating through straight to her core. Nowadays, she felt more like a mare who had been bred, stabled, and forgotten about.
"Forgive me" Tallmadge apologized, pulling her from her thoughts "I didn't mean to ramble. Your upbringing sounds...well...it's very understandably why the Woodhulls became so enamored."
Meaning Richard, of course. It was possible Thomas, her original fiance and son’s namesake, had thought her a worthy bride, but she’d barely had the chance to exchange correspondence with him before his death. Mary couldn’t help but think of him and how things might have turned out while Benjamin told of his past and how it led to enlistment.
Soldiers like him, like Thomas, were courageous and honorable, but it didn’t change the fact that they often left behind mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters, to grieve their loss.
That’s when the sound of little Thomas squealing with delight tugged her from her melancholia. Mary was astonished by the sight of her son enjoying himself to the point of audibly expressing it. Not even Abe could usually convince him to do so.
It was moving to the point that her eyes began to well up with tears, which she quickly blinked away, not wanting to damper the moment of joy she had the privilege of witnessing.
"Sorry," Ben apologized. "I've often been told I'm one of the boys, and I suppose that also extends to children."
Mary continued to watch in wonderment, unable to stop herself from smiling, stretching muscles that had not been used in years, “You must have been splendid with your students if you get along so well with young children.”
"I'm afraid I'm not all that interesting," he assured, "In truth, it would seem Abe and Caleb were the ones making me even the slightest bit intriguing, so I could share a few stories...though some of them might not be appropriate for mixed company."
“You’re surely being modest, Major,” Mary answered, “I respect my husband deeply, but he’s about as interesting as watching the cabbage in our field grow.”
And then rot in maggot-infested shame.
Tallmadge hoisted Thomas back up onto his shoulders and the boy lightly drummed on the back of the man’s head in excitement, "I hope you're both comfortable here. Camp life is hard, but...we're trying to keep normalcy afloat, if only for the children's sake."
“That’s a noble endeavor. After all, how can your soldiers perform optimally without a properly functioning camp? A clock should be well oiled and running smoothly for it to work.”
The river came into view and Sprout bounced jubilantly with anticipation, knowing full well that a river meant leaf boats were about to be crafted.
“We’re managing just fine,” Mary admitted, “It’s difficult when he asks after Abe, but, in a way, I feel he’s safer here than we were in Setauket.”
As if it were second nature, Mary carefully kneeled beside the bank and began to gather suitable leaves for Sprout, “With all you oversee, the ring included, you no doubt are the one who should be asked how he’s fairing.”
“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me." Mary's tone was soft, but tart with bitterness. “Abe no doubt has very little interest in speaking of a marriage fulfilled out of some sort of family obligation.”
Benjamin balked at that, not having expected such candor. "Forgive me, Mrs. Woodhull, but I don't feel it my place to comment on what I, myself do not have...and yet I'd like to assure you: Abe doesn't look towards you nor Thomas as an obligation." Or at least, not Thomas.
Mercifully, Mary went on to describe her home life. At the talk of a horse farm, Benjamin perked up, having always been fond of the gentle creatures.
"A horse farm," he echoed, smiling wistfully. "Were I not so taken by school-teaching, I imagine that would be the perfect job." He glanced her way. "Do you ride, Mrs. Woodhull? There's nothing quite like racing through the countryside with the wind whistling through your hair and the sun shining upon your face, a rush coursing throughout your veins since surely, it's the closest you could ever feel to God."
As if in answer to his musings, young Thomas giddily kicked his legs and tugged on his queue, almost mimicking the tug of reins.
Unsure of himself, Benjamin laughed, the sound a touch embarrassed. "Forgive me" he apologized, "I didn't mean to ramble. Your upbringing sounds...well...it's very understandably why the Woodhulls became so enamored." Even if that only meant Judge Woodhull, God rest his soul...
Regrettably, Mary's thoughts seemed to take on a similar path, and her features darkened, her lowered lashes sealing off the light that had briefly entered her eyes.
Before he could think to apologize, she pressed, “What about you? I’d met your father several times from church, despite his sermons having to take place in the schoolhouse. He seems a devout man. You weren’t living at home though before the war, were you?”
"I wasn't, no," Benjamin allowed. "During my schooling in Connecticut, I became ensnared by the burning urge to enlist, so I'm afraid I never returned home. It almost felt cowardly writing to Father of my intentions, rather than facing him like a man -- and most especially since he, himself had served and was deserving of being looked in the eye -- but in truth, I was afraid that if I were to see him or Samuel or Abe, I might lose my resolve...so I stayed away. And then Sammy ended up following me into the service."
And so did Hale. And now both of them were dead.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Benjamin exhaled and gently brushed his thumb over Thomas' knee, who squirmed with a startled giggle.
"Ticklish, are you?" he asked, a warmth wrestling in his chest against the cold. "I'd start a tickle war, but I'm afraid of getting kicked in the head."
Behind him, Thomas attempted to tickle his neck and chin (which, alas, weren't any spots of true effect), and when the boy came too close to his mouth, Benjamin playfully nipped at his fingers, causing Thomas to draw back with a surprised squeal.
Unbidden, a solid ache formed inside his chest. He was jealous of Abraham, he realized -- not of his family, per se, but because he had one, and somehow was willing to throw it all away as if they were nothing.
Oblivious to his turmoil, Thomas went back to poking and tickling at his cheek, hoping to instigate more playtime.
Ever one to deflect from his emotions, Benjamin grinned and quipped, "A glutton for punishment, are you? I really don't think that's a good idea..."
Giggling, Thomas started patting his tiny hands against his face and smooshing his cheeks.
"You're making this very difficult," Benjamin continued on, feigning resignation, "and do you know why?" Without further preamble, he grabbed Thomas' ankles and easily spun him around, dangling him over his shoulder with the threat of dropping him from his full height.
Thomas screamed, though the sound was filled with delight and laughter rather than terror or pain -- Benjamin wasn't quite sure he could ever get used to that.
He looked Mary's way with a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he apologized. "I've often been told I'm one of the boys, and I suppose that also extends to children." Here, he lifted Thomas up and down, imitating the flight of a bird while the child shrieked and beamed.
"I'm afraid I'm not all that interesting," he said after a moment. "In truth, it would seem Abe and Caleb were the ones making me even the slightest bit intriguing, so I could share a few stories...though some of them might not be appropriate for mixed company." Setting Thomas back upon his shoulder, Benjamin smiled. "I hope you're both comfortable here. Camp life is hard, but...we're trying to keep normalcy afloat, if only for the children's sake."
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Just Dumb Enough to Try
Chapter 26: This Must be the Place
Word Count: 4.5k+
Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Tags / CW: swearing, pregnancy, fluff fluff fluff, love notes, smut, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, unprotected PIV sex, gave javi some gray sweatpants bc he deserves it and so do we
Chapter Summary: Our heroes spend the morning together.
Notes: Chapter title from "This Must be the Place" by Talking Heads. This is the last chapter!! Holy shit! I'm putting this out earlier than anticipated because I'm getting antsy about it and I really like it as is. Seriously I'm going to go cry now, because I'm feeling sad and proud and excited all at once. I'll *probably* write more with these two in the future, though. That sounds fun. If you liked it let me know, pleaaaase, I'm a whiney baby that loves reassurance!! OK THANK YOU SO MUCH!
[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]
Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX November 29, 1998
Your eyes blink open to late morning light pouring onto the bed. As they attempt to adjust from the darkness of sleep, you clamp them shut, rolling over to throw your arm across Javier.
Except, he’s not there. Your arm flops onto something crinkly instead. One eye cracks open and finds a pile of papers folded in half where your boyfriend usually is. Their ragged edges are intact, proof that they were yanked out from the spine of a spiral notebook.
You pick up the bundle and blink both eyes open.
“READ ME” is scrawled on the top fold in Javi’s messy script. You take a deep morning yawn and wriggle upright, propping yourself up on a stack of pillows. The comforting scent of brewing coffee wafts into the bedroom. Javi is humming along to the radio in the kitchen. Pans clatter and cupboards slam by his hand as you unfold the stack of papers and start reading.
—
December 5, 1993
I can’t stop thinking about you. How are you even doing this to me?
Yesterday I went to your apartment building. Your bedroom lights were on and the blinds were closed. I sat outside for an hour, knowing you were there, unable to bring myself to do anything about it.
Even if I could have gathered the courage to knock on the door, what would I have said to you?
I like the feel of your hand in mine. I like your laugh. You’re beautiful. Do you want to go on a date with me?
Those words shouldn’t make a man like me nervous, but they do. So nervous that I left San Antonio without letting them leave my mouth.
—
December 1, 1994
It’s been a year since I kissed you.
I had to leave. I’m sorry. Duty calls.
Maybe we’ll meet again. Sometimes I hope we don’t. It’s for the best. You’ll find someone better.
—
June 4, 1998
I can’t tell you this. So I’m writing to you. I know you’re engaged, and you’re happy with Dan fucking Baker. Even though it makes no sense to me.
But I’ll be damned. Every time I look at you I remember exactly what you felt like. What you taste like. I crave your lips on mine again.
—
June 13, 1998
When I’m with you, we’re opposite poles in magnets resisting the inevitable. The pull is so strong, I ache. You feel it, too. I can tell.
Your lips, your touch, the perfect way I fit inside you. I can never unlearn these things. I’ve tried. They’re etched in my bones. It’s fundamental, as central to my being as breathing.
I long for you, love. It’s torture.
—
June 25, 1998
I am in love with you.
So, here I am, writing to you, imagining I had the guts to say it.
This is absolute fucking madness, cariño. But I woke up next to you and saw you there and I knew.
—
July 30, 1998
I don’t know where you are, but I saw you. I can feel you. I don’t know how I know, but I know. You’re scared. I’m scared, too. I’ve never been so terrified to lose someone.
When I lost my mom, I didn’t get to be scared. One moment she was on her way back from the grocery store, and the next she was gone. In an instant, the sun in our lives burnt out.
You would have loved her. Everyone did, she was just that kind of person. She had a wit about her. Lit up any room she walked into, but nobody fucked with her.
She loved deer because of their polarity and intuition. They’re gentle, fierce, cautious, adventurous. They shed and regrow their antlers. She said they’re symbolic of duality, listening to your gut feelings, renewal and growth. She would have loved you, too.
There are so many things I want to tell you. I should have listened to you. I didn’t let you come with me. You trusted me to protect you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.
I promise I will find you. I love you and miss you so much, cariño. Please hold on a little bit longer.
Tell baby Peña I say hello and that I love them, too.
—
August 1, 1998
I’m watching you as you sleep in our bed. You’re battered, bruised, stitched together… but you and the baby are ok. It’s a fucking miracle, cariño, I swear.
I introduced myself to your parents in the hospital waiting room last night. Your dad looked at my extended hand like there was shit smeared on it. They’re right to not want anything to do with me right now.
It’s a good thing their approval means approximately jack shit to you. Because I am never letting you go.
—
November 29, 1998
Today’s the day I give you the letters I never thought I would, so I can show you how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.
Come out to the kitchen, baby.
—
You sniffle and rub the tears out of your eyes and set the unfolded stack of love letters down on the black duvet, then scoot to the edge of the bed. The floor is cool on the soles of your feet, one then the other. Javi starts singing “I Just Want to Dance With You” by George Strait. Your heart swells with love. You grab your fuchsia robe from the back of the desk chair and tie it around your body as you emerge from the bedroom and follow his voice.
He’s leaning on the kitchen island over a newspaper crossword puzzle, one hand holding a pen as the other slides his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, singing, “I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you; Yes, I did, ain't that true? You won't get embarrassed by the things I do; I just wanna dance with you…”
You greet him with a giddy smile, padding across the floor towards him, “Good morning.”
A smile stretches across his handsome face when he peers up at you from the newspaper, “Good morning, beautiful.”
He sets the pen down and pushes off of the counter, meeting you with an outstretched hand. You take it, and he pulls you close, placing one hand on your waist. He guides you in a clumsy waltz to the tempo of the music.
You giggle at him as he presses his forehead to yours. The lyrics of the upbeat ballad drift from his mouth, hot on your cheek. When the song ends, he keeps his fingers interlaced with yours and leads you to the kitchen island, where you take a seat on a stool across from him.
He goes to the coffee pot and pours you a cup, then sets it down in front of you. Steam curls out of the white ceramic mug that reads CAVE WITHOUT A NAME. You wrap a hand around it, humming with glee, “Thank you, baby.”
“Did you sleep good?” he asks, a grin spread across his face as he leans his elbows onto the newspaper.
He is up to something.
“I did,” your face flushes as your fingertip runs along the circumference of the steaming mug, collecting condensation, “I, um- I read your notes.”
He brings his coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip, then sets it down and asks, “Did you like them?”
You nod and your mouth gapes open as you try in vain to formulate words that could possibly explain the love and devotion bubbling inside you. Every moment you spend with him makes you love him even more. A feat you didn’t even think was possible. Yet, here you are. He wakes you up with love notes, dances with you in the kitchen, smiles at you with those fucking dimples, and you’re falling in love all over again.
The euphoria that cycles through your veins when he’s touching you. The dread that clutches your heart when you imagine existing without his presence. The deep ache of adoration in your chest when you stare at him long enough to feel sentimental about it. All the ways he occupies your body and soul. Every ounce of you knows that this is it .
Everything you can think of falls flat. Your face feels hot and your heart flutters. Happy tears prick in your eyes as they meet his and your eyebrows draw together, “You really wrote all of those?”
He reaches across the countertop and closes your hand in his, nodding, “I did.”
“Oh, Javi-“ the lump in your throat chokes you up and you wipe away the tears spilling onto your cheeks, “I’m sorry for crying, I just-“ you sniffle and pout at him, “I love you so much. I don’t even know how to explain.”
“I love you too, cariño,” he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand affectionately. His smile hasn’t faltered, even as he tells you, “I think I’m going to get you to break your record today.”
The record he speaks of is the number of times you’ve cried in a day. For the past week, tears have become a common reaction to overwhelming emotions. The pregnancy hormones are mingling with your recent life changes, on top of your predisposition to being a crybaby already, and have made you a sappy, teary-eyed disaster.
Yesterday, he found you outside watching Pickles wriggle around on his back. Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, face wet from bawling. When he asked what was wrong, your answer was, “Nothing, he’s just so cute I feel like my heart is going to explode.”
Your record is 10 cries in one day. You’ve been awake for about a half an hour and have already cried twice. It’s an impressive start.
You sniffle again and wipe the stagnant tears away, then start laughing because you can’t even continue to take him seriously. He’s just fucking beaming at you.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?” he starts laughing, too, then makes his way around the counter to you.
His rough hands cup your cheeks and you shake your head as you grin up at him, “I just think you’re really great.”
“Yeah?” his smile widens, and you nod in response. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet peck, and you link your arms behind his neck to draw him in again, lingering longer this time. He inhales sharply as your tongue meets his, flipping your stomach upside down. His touch trails back to the hinges of your jaw, and he brushes the sleep-mussed hair from your face as the kiss deepens.
A soft moan rumbles in your throat and you get to your feet, arching your back into him. His hands find your waist and pull you closer, and you can feel his cock hardening against you under the loose constraints of his lazy Sunday morning sweatpants. But he pulls back, speaking to you between needy, wet kisses, “Wait- mmm, gotta- gotta show you something-“
You pout and look up at him as you bring one hand down to his tented pants and rub your thumb in a circle against the tip of his length, “Can it wait?”
He throws his head back as a hiss sucks the air from his lungs, then brings his eyes back to yours and shakes his head, “Can’t wait.”
“Are you sure?” you bat your eyelashes and continue to tease him, feeling a bead of pre-cum wet the fabric between his cock and the pad of your thumb.
A huge smile spreads across his face as he shudders, then pulls you back in for a smoldering kiss. He shakes his head as he gasps against your mouth, “So impatient, cariño.”
“You want me to stop, baby?” you ask innocently, then roll your tongue against his and wrap your hand around his sweatpants-bound cock. He grabs your wrist gently and laces your fingers with his, then brings the back of your hand to his lips, where he plants a kiss.
“What I want-“ he lowers himself onto one knee and pulls a little black velvet box out of his pocket. Every cell in your body comes to a standstill. He releases your hand so he can open it, revealing a gold band with a solitary sparkling white gemstone, “Is for you to marry me.”
A surge of adrenaline floods your bloodstream, making you lightheaded, and you breathe, “Wh- what?”
Your heart pounds impossibly fast in your chest as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and asks, “Will you marry me?”
Tears brim your eyes for the third time this morning, cheek-burning smile breaking out on your face when you answer him, “Fuck yes I will.”
“Yeah?” he laughs and his smile is all dimples and perfect teeth when he plucks your hand up and slides the ring onto your finger.
You laugh through your crying and nod. He gets to his feet and cups your cheeks again, thumbs wiping the tears away, and he kisses you with heat, guiding you backwards until you butt up against the dining room table.
You cease kissing and throw your head back as laughter bubbles from your throat, “I can’t believe you just let me keep fondling you when you were going to ask that!”
A smile stretches across his face as he chuckles and shrugs, “You’re very persuasive.”
Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah?”
“But I couldn’t wait any longer,” his face softens into a loving gaze and your heart aches as it melts in your chest. He takes your left hand and holds it up so he can look at the ring he just adorned on your finger, and questions, “Do you know what today is?”
Your stomach flips and you nod, “I met you five years ago today.”
“That’s right,” the corners of his mouth upturn and he plants a kiss on your hand, “I fell in love with you five years ago today.”
Your eyes sting as tears flood them again, the deep well of adoration and love you have for this man just too much to bear, and you pout, “This really isn’t fair, you’re trying to make me cry now.”
His eyes fold into crescents as he laughs heartily, then presses his forehead against yours, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Javier,” you raise your hands to his face, thumbs scraping against the stubble he hasn’t shaved off yet this morning. He kisses you slowly, a series of lazy, wet lingering pecks.
His hands trail down to your waist, then over and under your ass, palming the cheeks over your thin cotton robe.
His nose nuzzles against yours and he hums in contentment, “Where were we?”
“I think,” you drop your gaze to his tented pants and smirk as you bring your grasp around him, circling the dark gray wet spot with your thumb, “We were going to the bedroom.”
He groans at the touch, then shakes his head as he guides you onto the table and nudges your knees apart, “I want you right here.”
You let out a soft coo when he tugs on the sash of your robe until it’s undone and falls open, exposing your naked body. He cradles your head like it’s made of something delicate and priceless, then drags his tongue across yours, sending molten heat dripping down your spine. His lips press against your jawline and he hesitates.
You whisper, “Kiss my neck.”
“Are you sure?” his eyebrows press together and he pulls back to meet your eyes, searching for reassurance.
Recently, you both learned that touch to your neck is a trigger now. He has been cognizant not to touch you in the area since an incident, in which he innocuously put his hand to your throat during sex, led to your hyperventilating on the bedroom floor.
Throughout your recovery after those two days in hell with Dan as your keeper, Javi has been fucking wonderful.
When you wake up in the night, screaming and crying, thinking you’re still in that closet, he holds you, rocking back and forth, singing quietly as he strokes your hair and lulls you back to sleep. You do the same for him sometimes.
In the first few weeks, when you would be alone for an extended period of time while Javi and Chucho were out working, panic attacks found you. You would call Javi from their home phone and he’d have you tell him all the things you could see that start with a certain letter, then he would talk you through grounding exercises.
If it weren’t for the support you receive from him and your therapist, you would be a catastrophe. As opposed to what you are now, which is simply a mess.
You nod and tilt your chin up, exposing the column of your throat, “I want it. I trust you.”
“Will you tell me if it’s too much?” his touch falls to your ribcage and ghosts down your sides to your hips, pricking your skin with goosebumps.
“I promise,” you breathe, and it turns into a gasp when his tongue massages a circle into your pulse. Your whole body shudders when he seals his lips against you and sucks gently. He migrates down your neck, leaving a trail of saliva shiny on your skin, sending your heart racing and your center vibrating with lust.
“Oh, Javi, that’s so good baby,” you whimper to the ceiling, raking your fingers through his hair. His lips emit a low hum against you, moving to your collarbone where his teeth catch your skin. Your back arches into him, moaning in approval of the sharp sting. He soothes the bite with the gentle caress of his tongue.
Rough hands skate along the tender skin of your thighs. The contact floods you with a neediness, and you grab at his shirt, whimpering, “I want you, Javi.”
He brings his lips to your ear and purrs, “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Come on,” you pout and reach for his swollen member, but he redirects your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.
“You need to learn patience, babygirl,” he chastises, then flicks your earlobe with his tongue before grinding it between his teeth. A spring of pleasure flows down to your cunt. You moan in response, pelvis thrusting forward with a mind of its own. He whispers, “Does that sweet little pussy need attention?”
The words slither around inside you, making you squirm, and you nod breathlessly, “Y-yes.”
His free hand splays across your chest, “Well, that’s too fucking bad . Gonna take my time with you,” he warns as he pushes you back gently until you recline onto your elbows, “Gonna make you beg for it.”
His hot gaze meets yours as his velvet tongue flattens on one of your pebbled nipples. His head swivels back and forth, dragging his tongue across the sensitive bud at a torturously slow tempo. Another shudder runs down the middle of you.
“Fuck- “ you gasp, arching into the contact, head falling backwards for a moment before you return to meet his love-blown eyes.
He responds by taking the nipple between his front teeth and tugging ever-so-gently. You moan from deep in your throat at the ripples of ecstasy that shoots across your body. Your cunt clenches around nothing. He moves to the other tit and works away, lapping and nibbling down on your nipple until you’re writhing beneath him, a constant stream of whimpers falling from your mouth.
“Fuck me, please, Javi, please- “
“I will, cariño,” he promises, planting a hot, wet kiss on your sternum, then your belly, never breaking eye contact, “When I’m ready.”
His tongue draws slow, lazy circles down the soft skin of your abdomen. The sensation rolls across your body and liquifies. He has you shivering and gasping at each touch.
You huff, "Now?"
He chuckles at your frustration, then instructs, “Scoot towards me.”
You follow his order, wiggling forward until your glistening pussy is right on the edge of the table. His hands run down the backs of your thighs, and he spreads you open wide, on display for him.
His eyebrows press into a crease and his lips form an "o" and he drops to his knees at the sight, purring, “I haven’t even touched this pretty pussy yet and, fuck, you’re already so wet.”
“So fucking wet,” you whine, rolling your hips towards him, wordlessly begging him to touch you.
His hot gaze locks on yours, looking up from between your legs as his tongue drags up the middle of your sex. Just a tease. A taste. You ache with want.
“Fucking amazing, baby,” he breathes, and his gaze falls from yours as he gives his full, undivided attention to your cunt. His soft tongue starts rolling across your clit and you ascend to a different plane of existence. Those same molasses circles he drew all over your body, leaving a shiny trail of saliva to where he is now. Over and over and over again as he groans against you.
The throbbing of pleasure keeps accumulating, condensing, slowly and steadily pushing you to new heights. Your face gets flushed and sweaty as your heart pounds in your chest. You roll your hips against his tongue, trying to get more.
He rises to his feet and brings you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he pulls his sweatpants down with the other. His pants drop to the ground in a gray heap, releasing his thick, gorgeous cock. His lips capture yours with force, and he growls between messy kisses laced with your arousal, “See- how fucking- good you taste, cariño?”
"I love the way I taste in your mouth," you pant.
His thumb slides hard against your overly sensitive clit. The stimulation feels like an electric cattle prod to your pussy, sending your body bucking and shuddering. The pain is layered, though, and a deep want lays beneath.
"Please, baby," you whine, grabbing at his shirt and tugging at him, "I need you, please-"
You bite your lip in anticipation as the head of his cock nudges your entrance. His nose nuzzles against yours and he continues in a gravelly tone that ricochets down your spine, “Is that what you want, baby?”
Your lips form a pout and you nod, then gently thrust your hips against his, dipping him inside just enough to pull a rumble from his throat. The electric sharpness of his touch on your clit is overtaken by a wanton need for him to fucking destroy you.
“Yes,” you whisper, tilting your pelvis against him, “Fuck me, Javi.”
He slowly drives his hips forward at your admission, filling you, sending waves of pleasure surging from your cunt to the tips of your toes. A moan is ripped from your throat and you throw your head back. He starts to fuck you, pumping into you deep and merciless.
His lips find your neck again. He lays hot, wet kisses on the delicate skin. You run your fingers through his hair and gasp, “That’s fucking perfect, Javi, holy shit,” then tug at the front of his shirt, "Take it off."
He ceases movement, fully sheathed, and sits up, pulling the shirt off over his head. The shirt takes his new glasses with them and they clatter to the floor and he winces. You giggle at the clumsiness. The gentle jostling of your body around his cock trickles ecstasy into your center, and you gasp at the sensation.
A sheen of sweat glistens atop his skin and he's panting as he meets your eyes with a grin. He looks happy. And in love. You probably do, too, because that's how you feel. The way your heart swells almost fucking hurts.
You beckon him closer, and he follows, leaning in slowly to press his plush lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching your back into him, digging your fingernails into his skin. He throbs inside you, making you gasp. His moan vibrates into your lips, and he starts pumping into you, faster, more frantic now.
The way you're huddled against each other, whimpering between kisses, reveling in the divine pleasure each movement, each touch, brings you both. As it always does, it feels like you were made for each other.
As if he can read your mind, he rasps, "I fucking love you."
"I love you, Javi. So- fuck- so fucking much," you pant, pulling his lips against yours again.
He moans in approval and brings his hands to your waist, trailing up your back to your shoulders. He gets a grip on you here and leverages you down on his cock as he thrusts forward, setting a brutal pace. Your whole body buzzes and tingles, and the kisses grow more desperate.
His hips snap into yours, bringing you up higher and higher as your muscles tighten and your body starts to quiver.
“Javi-“ a choked sob escapes you as you start to ascend towards bliss, “I’m fucking cumming- oh, fuck-“
"Fuck yes, cum for me, babygirl," he orders through gritted teeth, "Wanna feel you squeeze me-"
You come completely undone, overtaken with ripples of ecstasy from your center. Your legs clamp down around his hips as your body spasms, and you can hear Javi moan in response to the sensation, pumping into you with reckless abandon a few more times before he spills inside you.
Slowly, your muscles slacken and soften, but before you can release his shoulders from your grasp and lay back on the table, he whispers breathlessly, "Hold on tight."
"Wh-"
His hands move to your ass and you squeal when he picks you up. He carries you into the bedroom as you giggle into his neck, then you both tumble sideways onto the mattress.
"Oh, that's so much better," he groans and sprawls out.
You curl up into the crook of his arm, "You're the one that wanted to- nay, insisted that we- fuck on the table."
"Mmm," he hums and closes his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips, "Just wanted to eat your pussy for breakfast at the kitchen table."
This makes you laugh, loud and untethered, "Worth it?"
He chuckles and nods, eyes still closed, "Worth it."
There's a flutter inside your belly and you gasp, "Oh my god, Javi."
"What?" his body tenses and his brow furrows.
It flutters again and your eyes well with tears, "She's moving. I can feel her moving."
A dimpled smile stretches across his face and he sits up, placing a hand on your small, but still noticeable, baby bump.
"I don't know if you'll be able to feel her kick on the outside," you tell him softly, then chuckle, "She's only a papaya right now."
"That's ok," he mumbles, smiling down at your belly, "Little Miss Rosemary Peña will be able to kick my ass before I know it."
"Probably," you tease.
He grins at you and shakes his head, then lays back down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to cuddle you closer. A comfortable, warm silence embraces the two of you, and your fingers trail along his chest, his belly, his face. Writing love notes on his skin. He plays with your hair and watches you with love sparkling in his dark eyes.
You're home.
[ The End ]
#javier peña x you#narcos fanfiction#jdett#narcos fic#narcos#pedrostories#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x ofc#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier pena x oc#javier pena#javier peña narcos#javier peña smut#javier peña fluff#javier pena x reader#javier pena fic#pedro pascal fandom#javier pena smut#javier pena fluff#javi peña#javi peña x reader#javi peña x you#javi pena
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New Sofa || draco malfoy X reader
Tags: fluff, fluff and smut, explicit language
“It’s here! It’s here! The first furniture we ordered for living room of our apartment is finally here!” Y/n shouted in glee and anticipation, gazing at their new sofa.
“Finally! Best not sit on the floor any longer.” His lips quivered a wide smile while he enveloped her with his strong and firm arms.
“I’m so excited! The apartment is going to be beautifully decorated. I just know it!”
“I know it too! My love has impeccable taste.” He laughed sitting down on their now sofa.
“We’re going to build such a good life together. Our future children will be so lucky and happy to grow up in a beautiful and spacious home with caring and understanding parents like us!” She grinned, her eyes full of hope as she came down straddling him. Her hips unconsciously grinded on him as she shifted in excitement, her pastel pink dress rose up to reveal a generous view of her arse which he reflexively grasped to come closer against his now rock-hard erection.
“I’m going to order another sofa in the children’s room— ” Draco’s lips attacked hers, stopping her before she could finish the sentence.
“Your arse is all I want right now, my love. Preferably face down, arse up on that sofa.” his lips waltz around her clavicles as one hand cupped and massaged her right breast giving it the right amount of pressure and the other simultaneously spanked her round, bubble butt several times before he picked her up bridal style, then threw her softly on her back on the sofa.
He bent over, his lips meeting her deeply, exploring every crack and crevice of mouth while his hands slipped under her dress to pull breast out of her bra and continue fuddling them with his two huge hands, applying the right pressure earning a moan as he twisted her hard nipples. His lips slithered down her neck and find the right spot under her ears and roughly kissing it, knowing this will make her wet with desire. His fingers trailed down her spine, unhooking her bra.
"Fuck. That feels so good, my love” She muttered between her moans, her brain short circuiting when he twisted both her nipples and his erection lightly thrusting against her clothed pussy, giving arson to every nerves around her legs on fire. Her hands tethered in his hair, pulling him closer to her.
“Do you like that?” He asked as he squeeze her breast rather hard, making her arch her back wanting more contract.
“Yes! So much!” She managed, her whole body practically pushed up against him as her hands traced his broad shoulders, feeling every muscle and drawing constellations on his exposed skin. Her hands hungry for more, slipped her his shirt and groped his stomach.
“Fuck.” He responded as she felt all his abs, his head resting on her shoulders as his clothed erection trust started increasing in speed.
“Draco, why are you so beautiful?” She whispered, tugging his dress white shirt over his head revealing perfect abs, tunned shoulders, and muscular arms.
“No, my love. You are the one that is the most beautiful in this universe.” He could barely breath, his knees weak as he lifted her dress, revealing her in nothing but pink knickers.
“Really? Show me.” She teased and was received with a rough, passionate kiss. His hands spread and roamed all over her body, his clothed erection now thrusting roughly against her knickers. Out of instinct, need, and arousal, she arched her back, signalling her ready to take all of him.
“Draco, I want you now!” She almost shouted. He smirked before dropping sensual kisses and lingering licks on her back, down to her arse, and legs. He continued kissing her down to leave brief kisses to her toes and the soles of her feet. He slowly licked up her legs, tongues slithering in patterns of unknown constellation neither could fathom as both of their brain were now currently convulsing.
“Be patience, my love. I’m showing you how beautiful you are first.” He teased said through his feather light touches around her inner thighs. He placed reverent kisses throughout her body before stopping between her thighs. She closed her eyes and clutched her hands into a fist, ready for the places his tongue was taking her.
Draco grinned wider than the joker, coming back to kiss her neck.
“Draco, don’t be such a tease! I need you now!” She uttered in frustration as she felt him lightly brushing against her clit.
“Alright, alright. Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” He whispered, flipping her over, then took his pants and boxer off in lighting speed.
The twirl of his tongue to the plump adipose tissues that is her arse, cupping it and lightly spanked it followed by deep kisses that were sure to leave marks the next morning got had her back bend over arse up and her back was now arching so much he wanted to ask if it hurt. Her face is now buried in the sofa in an unsuccessful attempt to muffle her moans.
“FUCK! DRACO!!” She screamed as he pulled her knickers to the side, allowing his tongue to painted wonders on her clit, taking on a visit on all the constellations, stopping at draco when both his fingers slipped in pumping her and hitting her G-spot every time.
He slit down her knickers, tossing it somewhere in their apartment. He leaned over to grab her hair in a makeshift ponytail and then pulled it while slowing inserting himself into her, earning long groans from both of them.
Lost in paradise, he thrusted hard into her, burying himself deep inside her while letting out low groans of adoration and sighs of possessiveness
Draco could feel her inner walls clenching against him as he came inside her. She felt perfect and so warm and soft despite the fact that he was fucking her hard. Her orgasm came seconds after his, rocking and making her whole body shatter, her brain stammered out of control.
He rode out both of their orgasms and stayed inside of her for a long time, in awe of seeing himself dripping out of her just a little, leaving trails of dampening the sofa.
“That was amazing. So magical” She sighed, face flushed and eyes seeing stars.
“It was” He affirmed and kissed her forehead, their heartbeats slowing down but beating as one.
“I’m so lucky to be with you every single day for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to start a new family together.”
“Exactly my sentiment.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
#draco#draco malfoy#draco x y/n#draco fluff#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagine#draco x reader#draco oneshot#draco fanfiction#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy x you
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my girl (f.w.)
prompt: you always knew fred would be a great dad and every day he exceeds your expectations
pairing: dad! fred x mom! reader
warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, children (yes, children is a warning), mild language, suggestion and brief mention of sex, thunderstorm, fear of thunder/rain.
word count: 6.2k
author’s note: THIS BITCH SO LONG IM SO SORRY this is the last installment of the 60s writing challenge!! thank you to everyone who has tuned in!!
taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @valwritesx @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @amourtentiaa @sweeterthansammy @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3
It was laughable; the way Fred stared at your large pregnant belly with eyes full of anticipation, hands placed on either sides of it, waiting for your child to kick at his hands. You giggled as he gently whispered to your protruding stomach, “Come on, little one. It’s your daddy. Give us a little kick, yeah?” Your stomach remained still as he lightly groaned, only making you laugh. “This child already likes keeping me on my wit’s end,” he grumbled before kissing your belly. “I’m just teasing,” he whispered again to the bump. “I love you so much.”
You brush your fingers through Fred’s hair, him sighing as you do. Fred had been so darling over the past nine months of your pregnancy. He found more staff for the joke shoppe to take over the early morning shifts and the night shifts so he could spend those hours taking care of you, helping around the house, and preparing for the baby’s arrival. You were always Fred’s number one priority, but that was set in stone after you became pregnant. He would literally drop anything if you even murmured that you needed something. Fred would wake up first and get your prenatal vitamins ready for you to drink with a large glass of water, he’d make breakfast, clean the kitchen, and only then would he wake you up. You had to admit, you could get used to living like this. But alas, you were past your due date and the baby was expected any day now.
“She loves you too, Freddie,” you tell him as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at your husband who still rubs his hands over your stomach, searching for your unborn baby’s feet.
Fred looks up at you with questioning eyes. “She?” Fred could honestly care less about the sex of his child, as long as the baby was healthy. That’s all he could truly ask for. But secretly, deep down, Fred wanted a little girl, a princess. Someone who could be his princess since he had already found his queen.
You smiled with a shrug, “I have a feeling. I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but when you know you know, don’t you?”
With that, against the skin of your stomach, pressed against Fred’s hand is two large kicks. Fred’s eyes widen as he sits up, feeling his child kick against his hands as the two of you laugh. Fred smiles wide and says, “Is that a sign?” he stares up at you with excited eyes as you cover your mouth laughing with glee. “Is that right, baby? A little girl?” he whispers to your belly, earning another two strong kicks as the two of you laugh out with delight. “A little princess and a strong one at that!” he cheers. “We’ve got a little football player on our hands, don’t we? Well, too bad, because your daddy is going to teach you all about quidditch.”
-------
The hospital room was quiet, no one daring to disturb the air that surrounded the newborn baby girl that was fast asleep on your chest. Her plump cheeks squished against your bare chest made you and Fred smile with delight. A healthy baby girl born after a brutally long labor, but it was all worth it. You softly kissed the top of her head, making her stir in her sleep.
You looked over at Fred to see him, gently wipe tears from his eyes as he gazed upon your newborn daughter. In this room, he had everything he’d ever wanted. The sight of your husband looking so lovingly at your daughter made your heart swell as you felt hot tears prick up behind your eyes. Reaching out, you cupped Freddie’s cheek as brushed away with happy tears with your thumb. Freddie looked up at you with eyes so tender and a smile so warm, you giggled out a sob. “She’s perfect,” he quietly spoke to you as you nodded your head in agreement.
She really was the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Her button nose and soft features rested upon her gentle skin, tufts of strawberry blonde hair poking out from the cap the hospital dressed her in. Her lips were pink and squished against your chest as small dreaming noises escaped now and again. Your darling little girl, your little flower.
“Daisy,” you spoke softly to Fred as you brushed your daughter’s cheek softly.
The two of you had spoke about what to name the baby for a while, a few names tossed around here and there, but none of them felt right. Until Daisy popped into your head.
Fred nodded his head with a happy smile, “Yeah.” In her sleep, the baby stirred at the sound of Fred’s voice, making him scoot impossibly closer to the hospital bed, leaning close to his daughter. “How do you like that, love bug?” he cooed at the sleeping baby on your chest. “Daisy,” he smiled to himself. “I love you so much. You’re going to give mommy a run for her money,” he joked, making you roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle. Fred looked up at you and placed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we made something as perfect as she is,” he shakes his head in disbelief.
You smiled at your husband and sighed. The man before you was so perfect, helplessly in love with you and the child you created. Slowly, you peeled sleeping Daisy off of your chest and handed her over to an eager Fred, scooping her in his arms, cradling the baby close to his chest. Fred cooed down at his baby who slowly fluttered her eyes open, peering her dark eyes, that looked so like Fred’s, up at him. You laid back in the hospital bed, relaxing as you watched Fred murmur to Daisy, speaking gently and kissing her forehead and nose every now and again. As if you couldn’t fall more in love with Fred, watching him become a father was enough to make you fall in love fifty more times.
Fred rose from the chair he was sat in and started walking around the hospital room, rocking the baby and talking to her about the life she was going to have. “Just wait until Uncle George gets his hands on you,” he whispered as you silently laughed. “Grandma Molly is going to spoil the hell out of you,” he shook his head for his eyes widened and he looked at you. “I shouldn’t curse in front of our baby, should I?” he asks as you shake your head. “Damn it,” he curses again as he winces. “I’ll stop now,” he huffs making you laugh as your eyes feel heavy. The long labor had you exhausted and you had been up with Daisy feeding her and watching her alongside Fred. “Darling,” Fred cooed at you, “get some rest, please. I’ve got Daisy and she’s not due for another feeding for some time. You need to get some rest,” he tells you, walking over to the bed, helping pull the sheets up to cover you as you look up at his handsome face. “I’ll take care of our baby. Don’t worry.”
With a teasing sleepy smile on your face, you say, “I don’t know how much I trust you with a newborn child.” Fred gives you a look, making you chuckle. “I’m kidding, love, I’m kidding.” Fred kisses your forehead, your nose, and then your lips gently, him rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Fred speaks before placing another kiss to your lips softly. He sits himself in the chair again, Daisy looking sleepy again herself. He sighs before clearing his throat and gently starting to sing a melody that sounded all too familiar to you. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sings, making your heart flutter in your chest. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May,” his voice is soothing, the vibrations from his chest calming Daisy down and putting her in a sleepy trance. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” his deep voice sings the familiar love song.
Fred looks at you as you watch him with a small smile on your face, tears welling up in your eyes. He was singing your wedding song to your baby. It felt like a dream. Being married to the man you’ve always loved, seeing him cradle your beautiful baby girl in his arms, singing the song you would dance to as teenagers. It was unreal, but somehow, you were lucky enough to be living in it.
“I got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees,” he continues to sing along, slowly putting both you and Daisy to sleep as you flutter your eyes closed, happy and safe.
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The drive back from the hospital was slow. Fred insisting on not driving faster than twenty miles an hour even though the speed limit was thirty. This caused many cars on the road to change lanes and shoot Fred dirty looks.
“Fred, honey, you can drive faster than this. She’s in a car seat, strapped in very well as you made sure of before we left the hospital, and the road is very clear considering everyone has driven around you,” you tell him from the passenger seat.
He shakes his head, “No way. I am remaining as safe as humanly possible. Can’t risk putting my little flower petal in harm’s way.”
But eventually, you arrived back to your house where your friends and family awaited your arrival patiently. You turned the keys in the lock and pushed the door open, Fred following closely behind you with Daisy in her carrier. “We’re home,” you sing song out at the bunches of people who awaited your arrival in your home.
Everyone rises from the couches and chairs in your home, big smiles on their faces when they see you, Fred, and Daisy enter the door. Molly gasps and covers her mouth, tears already welling up in her eyes as Fred sighs. “Ron! Mum is already crying, you owe me two galleon!” George calls out. “I call holding it first!” George calls out.
“It?” Ginny makes fun of her brother with a light chuckle as Ron cackles from the other side of the couch, earning a pillow toss in the face from George. “I reckon I should hold the baby first considering I am going to be the godmother, right, (Y/N)?” Ginny asks.
George lets out a laugh, “Hilarious, Ginny. Last time I checked it was my twin who had the baby. Surely, I will be the godparent and the first one to hold it.”
“Stop calling the baby it!” Ginny reprimands him. “The baby is a...wait, you never told us what the baby’s sex is,” Ginny looks to you and Fred as the two of you are too preoccupied laughing at the antics of the group already. You weren’t even home five minutes and there was already arguing. “So?”
You look to Fred, giving him the honor of announcing the baby’s sex. “Everyone will get a turn holding her,” he announces as Ginny cheers out in victory, Ron owing George another two galleons, as Molly and Hermione squeal in excitement. “But who ever holds her first needs to wash their hands. I don’t want any dirty paws on my perfect baby girl,” he coos into the carrier before you take off the buckle and scoop Daisy into your arms as she stretches in your arms.
Ginny and George both make a mad dash to the sink, pushing the other out of their ways, trying to wash their hands first. You shake your head with a chuckle, and look down at your baby girl who is fast asleep still, still too young to understand the chaos of a family she was born into.
Molly laughs and speaks, “While those two battle of the soap, little do they know I already washed and sanitized my hands when I came in.” You laugh, knowing Molly Weasley came prepared to be the first one to hold her grandchild.
“Wait,” Fred stops his mother before you can pass the baby over to her. He pulls a vile of hand sanitizer from his pocket and squirts two drops in his mother’s hands, just in case. You slap his arm. “What? Can’t be too safe,” he defends himself. After Molly rubs in the gel, she looks at her son, giving him a sarcastic look. “Alright, now you can hold her,” he speaks as Molly rolls her eyes as you gently place Daisy in her arms.
Molly looks down at the newest addition to the Weasley family and her lights light up. Arthur looks over her shoulder and smiles softly at the beautiful babe in Molly’s arms. “She’s just a doll, isn’t she?” Arthur whispers as Molly cradles your daughter in her arms.
George and Ginny race back into the living room only to find their mother holding Daisy instead of one of them. George groans as Ginny defeatedly flops on the couch. “Snooze you lose, children,” she teases with a smile and George mimics her before flopping on the couch next to Ginny and Harry. Molly looks back at you and Fred with a big smile. “Well done, you two,” she beams as Fred hugs you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head. “She’s simply beautiful.”
“Thank you, Molly,” you smile. “So, do you lot want to know her name?” you ask the group, earning a symphony of yes’s and please’s. You look up at Fred who gives you an encouraging nod. With a gulp, you reveal, “Her name is Daisy.” Hermione smiles widely and claps her hands excitedly. “Daisy Ginevra Weasley,” you finish.
Ginny’s eyes widen in shock at the baby’s middle name. It was important to both you and Fred that you had a family name in there besides the surname. You were insistent on giving Daisy Ginny’s name as her middle name. Ginny played a big factor in why you and Fred got together and she was always there for you every step of your relationship. It only seemed right to name your child after her. “You...you named her after me?” Ginny asks in disbelief as you and Fred nod your heads. “Bloody hell,” she whispers with a smile, tears making her eyes glassy, but she pushes them down with a shake of her head. “I don’t know what to say. I...” Ginny searches for the words, but just ends up running over to you and embracing you and Fred in the tightest hug.
You laugh and give her a squeeze before holding her face in your hands. “You’re my sister, Gin. It only made sense to name our first daughter after someone who means so much to the both of us,” you tell Ginny as she smiles, tears now spilling from her eyes. You wipe away the tears with your thumbs as Fred places a kiss to his sister’s forehead.
Ginny laughs before punching Fred’s arm teasingly. “Merlin, you lot have made me soft,” she wipes her tears with a sniffle, making you and Fred laugh. Molly walks over to her daughter and puts Daisy in her arms as Ginny gasps and holds the baby close to her chest. “Hello, little one,” she whispers as Fred holds you in his arms, smiling wide as he watches his little sister hold his daughter. The sight was enough to make you cry again. The person who had been so influential in you and Fred’s relationship was now holding your first born child. “Reckon you have quite a beautiful middle name, eh?” she laughs before taking a seat next to Harry on the couch.
“Georgina also has a nice ring to it. Daisy Georgina Weasley. It’s not too late, you know,” George tells you and Fred, making you laugh and Ginny give him a dirty look.
“Shut it, you wanker,” she whispers through gritted teeth.
“Ah, ah, ah! No swearing in front of the baby!” George tsks his sister before looking at you and Fred. “You don’t want a godparent who swears in front of children, now do you?” he continues to push Ginny’s buttons as she rolls her eyes, but continues to coo at Daisy who peels her eyes open and peers up at Ginny.
Fred walks towards George who sits in the living room chair and speaks, “Funny you should mention that. (Y/N) and I have both gone back and forth about this for a long while. And we decided that if anything should happen to either of us, we would want you to raise Daisy, George.” George’s eyes widen in disbelief as he looks back and forth between you and Fred as you smile widely. It was a no brainer deciding who Daisy’s godparent would be. George was the first person to know when you were pregnant, he made sure the joke shoppe could function the same now with Fred as a dad, he baby proofed his flat months in advance for Daisy’s arrival. George would be a great uncle and godfather to your child. “What do you say, Georgie?” Fred asks.
George engulfs Fred in a massive bear hug, making your heart swell as Molly wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side. Today was surely one of the best days of your life, watching your family care for this new life with so much love and tenderness. George pulls away from Fred with tears in his eyes, clearing his throat, and speaking, “Of course. Yeah, ‘course I will. If anyone lays a finger on that child consider them dead meat.” Fred laughs and hugs his brother again, the two of them sharing a tender moment.
Ginny rises from the couch and with a smile, passes Daisy over to her godfather and uncle. George holds Daisy with utmost care and carefulness. He carefully sits down and smiles at the small baby in his arms. “Hey, peanut. I’m your Uncle Georgie,” he smiles down at Daisy who yawns and stretches in his arms, pushing off her hospital cap in the process to reveal her tufts of strawberry blonde hair. “Ah, the Weasley signature,” George laughs. “Sorry about that one, (Y/N),” he winks as you laugh, sitting on the couch with Ginny’s legs folded over your lap as she kisses your cheek. “Godric, she’s beautiful, Freddie,” George gushes. “You’re gonna be a heart breaker, kid. Just like your mum before she met your dear old dad. You know it took him three times before she finally said yes to go out with him?”
“Alright, no need to embarrass me in front of my three day old child,” Fred laughs, sitting on the arm of the chair.
The whole lot of you sits in the living room, quite still, watching Daisy as she gets passed around the room, each person interacting with her, cooing at her. When she gets passed around to Ron and Hermione, Ron huffs, “So, Ginny is her namesake, George is her godparent, does that make me the cool uncle?”
With a laugh, you shake your head, “Absolutely. Every kid needs a cool uncle and aunt.”
Ron smiles, “Wicked.”
Hermione coos at Daisy, Ron gently brushing her cheek with his forefinger as Daisy yawns widely. “You are a darling,” Hermione blushes to the baby before looking at Ron with pleading eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I have the daunting job of being cool uncle. Let me get that job done first before we get involved with something else,” he warns as Hermione laughs along with the rest of the group.
You look over to Fred who is already looking at you, love plaguing his eyes as you sigh happily. He smiles at you gently before mouthing an I love you, you reciprocating the action. Everything in this moment felt so right, so perfect.
----------
“You’re coming over for dinner on Wednesday, right?” Ginny confirms with you as Harry helps her into her coat, baby Lily on Ginny’s hip.
Everyone had come over for Sunday dinner at you and Fred’s house, like every other week. But as the years went by, the dinner guest list had changed and adapted to include more people. Harry and Ginny’s first child as well as Ron and Hermione’s first child became a part of the guest list along with Angelina as she was now engaged to George. It was always something to look forward to at the end of the weekend, having family over. Not to mention, Daisy was obsessed with her cousins.
“Of course. I don’t think Daisy would let us miss it,” you tell Ginny as you kiss Harry and Ginny goodbye. “Dee! Come say goodbye Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry!” you call out to your daughter who is still running around with James, Albus, Rose, and Hugo.
Daisy, now three years old, whines, “I don’t want to say goodbye, Mummy!” She stomps her foot in protest and folds her arms in protest. Daisy loved every moment she spent with her family which only made you and Fred happier. Family was so important to the two of you and the fact that her best friends where her cousins always warmed your hearts.
You smiled at your daughter and replied, “I know, darling. But you’ll see everyone again on Wednesday when we visit Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry’s house.”
Ginny chimes in, “And when you come over, I’ll let you wear my quidditch gloves like last time. How does that sound?”
Daisy’s face lights up and she immediately runs over to Ginny and hugs her legs as Ginny scoops her up and peppers her face with kisses as Daisy laughs wildly. Daisy looked up to Ginny. She always told you and Fred how much she wanted to be like her and play quidditch and fly around on a broom and win all of the games. She even started to demand being called by her middle name and not her first name, but you compromised with Daisy Gin.
Ginny places Daisy back down before calling out, “Alright, Potters! Let’s get a move on. You boys both need a bath,” she huffs when she sees chocolate smeared over both of her boy’s faces as they giggle wildly, running to Harry as he scoops up Albus and sets him on his hip. “Maybe if Uncle Fred didn’t let you eat half of the sweets bin, you wouldn’t need a third bath today,” she speaks, ruffling her hands in James’ hair, giving Fred the stink eye.
“Cool uncles let their cool nephews eat a bit of chocolate now and again, isn’t that right, James?” Fred asks, James fist bumping him in response with a wide grin.
The Potters leave the house with a final round of goodbyes and kisses before Ron and Hermione follow suit, putting on jackets. Hermione bundles Hugo up in his rain boots and rain coat as Rose appears at your feet. “Auntie (Y/N), can Daisy and I have a sleepover again?” she asks, batting her eyes at you with the most devious smile she could conjure up.
Ron rubs his face, “Sweet Merlin, Rose, you are trouble with a capital t.”
You laugh and give Rose a kiss on her forehead, “Of course we can. How about next week you can sleepover here and we can go pancakes in the morning like last time?” Rose’s eyes widen as she and Daisy squeal with excitement.
“Come on, darling,” Hermione calls over to Rose, holding her hand out for Rose to take. “Thanks again, dinner was delicious, (Y/N),” Hermione kisses your cheek goodbye.
“Don’t mention it,” you speak. “We’re still on for drinks with Luna on Friday, right?” you ask as she nods excitedly. “Brilliant. That means cool uncle and cool dad are in charge of the kids,” you beam before giving Ron and hug goodbye.
Ron laughs, “Coolest uncle. I’ve been promoted.” You chuckle before waving goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and the kids. This just left George and Angelina which was always the toughest part of the night.
George slips on his coat as Angelina follows, before he calls out. “Alright, my flower,” he speaks. “Hit me with your best one.” He holds out his arms as Daisy giggles, running into his arms and throws her arms around his neck as George picks her up and swings her around, making Daisy squeal. “Oh, Uncle Georgie loves you so much,” he kisses her cheeks before blowing fart noises in her neck, making her laugh even harder. “I’ve got a proposal for you, my darling. How about little Daisy here helps up open up the shop next Saturday? Teach her about the family business?” he tickles her sides as Daisy giggles, Angelina watching her fiancé lovingly as he entertains the child with ease. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Dad will be there to make sure Uncle George doesn’t corrupt the child,” he teases as you roll your eyes.
You sigh and look at your husband and brother in law. “Yeah, alright,” you comply as Daisy cheers while George spins her around in victory. “Only if that means Angie and I get to have a night out on Saturday.”
Angelina laughs in agreement. “Absolutely. And it’s you lot’s treat,” she adds as you smile before giving her a hug and kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). Thank you again for dinner.”
You watch as George dances around with Daisy, her smiling widely. George was a brilliant uncle and godfather. He was always willing to drop anything when you or Fred needed some help with her. Not to mention, he never minded playing babysitter when you and Fred needed a night alone.
Fred sighed, “Alright, Daisy Gin, time for a bath and bed. You’ve had a long day.”
“No!” she protests, wrapping her arms tighter around George’s neck, pressing her cheek against his as George laughs.
Fred pretends to gasp, “What do you mean no?”
“Uncle Georgie stays with me!” she demands. “And Auntie Angie!”
Fred’s heart swells at how much his young daughter loved his twin and his soon to be wife. “I know you want them to stay, my petal, but it’s time for bed. Besides, we’ll see Uncle George and Auntie Angie on Wednesday,” he tells your three year old as she pouts.
George speaks, “Hey, don’t be upset. That’s very soon. And besides, next time I see you, I’ll have a surprise...” This makes Daisy’s eyes light up with joy and clap her hands. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you bunches.”
“Love you,” Daisy smiles in her tiny voice as George places a kiss to her cheek, Angelina placing another kiss to her opposite cheek, making Daisy giggle. Daisy is handed off to Fred as the last couple leaves with another round of hugs and kisses.
“Get home safe! And be careful on the roads! It’s supposed to storm tonight!” Fred calls out as George and Angelina hop into their car with another wave. Fred closes the door with a sigh. Now it was just you, him, and Daisy. “Alright, you,” he teases Daisy who smiles. “I think it’s time for you to take a bath,” he scoops your daughter up into his arms, taking one of her bare feet in his hand, lifting it up to his nose. He feigns disgust. “Those stink, Daisy Gin!” he exclaims as Daisy giggles. “Mummy, we’ve got a 2342! Stinky feet!”
You gasp, “A 2342?!” Daisy laughs louder. “Get her in the bath! Stat!”
With that, Fred runs up the stairs and to the bathroom as Daisy shrieks with delight as you can’t help but chuckle. Even the simplest things Fred made fun. Each day with Fred as the father of your child was an adventure. He made the simple days extraordinary and the extraordinary days out of this world. He was the center of Daisy’s world; that baby girl loved her father more than anything. Sometimes it made you a little jealous, how much she adored Fred, but you couldn’t stay mad for too long. It was just so damned adorable how she stared up at Fred with so much idolization.
From your bedroom, you could hear Fred and Daisy sing nursery rhymes in the bath, Fred doing silly voices which only made Daisy giggle. The sang, they counted, talked about animals, and colors. Each babbling conversation made your heart swell with love.
“Mummy!” you hear Daisy call from her bedroom.
“Coming, my peanut!”
You walked down the hall and into Daisy’s room, decorated in white and yellow flowers on the walls with a bookcase filled with books and toys, and her small bed with sheets adorned with Holyhead Harpies sheets as per Daisy’s request. She sat on the bed, wrapped in her towel, waiting for you to change her into pajamas. It was your favorite part of the day.
You smiled at your daughter with freshly washed hair, wrapped in a green towel. “There’s my flower,” you smiled as Daisy kicked her legs excitedly. “What pajamas are we wearing tonight? Your Harpies pajamas are in the wash, but you have your daisy pajamas from Uncle Neville and your rainbow pajamas from Auntie Luna.” Daisy thinks for a moment before requesting her daisy pajamas from Neville.
As you change your daughter into fresh pajamas, you listen to her babble about how much fun she had with her cousins and how she couldn’t wait for Wednesday. You smiled to yourself, still wondering how you were so lucky to get the sweetest, most darling little girl in the world as your daughter. You brushed her hair gently before plaiting her red hair that matched Fred’s into two pigtail plaits. Daisy smiled at herself in the mirror as you peppered her right cheek with kisses making her giggle. “I love you, Daisy Gin,” you tell her.
“I love you, Mummy,” she bats her eyelashes, looking up at you with those big chocolate brown eyes that so resembled Fred’s. All of Daisy reminded you of Fred. From her hair to her eyes to the way she spoke, it was all so Fred which only made you love your little tike more fiercely.
You carried her back to bed, tucking her in her sheets before calling out for Fred. Within seconds, Fred appeared with a smile on his face. “Bedtime for my princess,” he smiles before kneeling next to you at her bedside. “Goodnight, my baby,” he kisses her forehead as Daisy closes her eyes with a smile.
“I’m not a baby!” she protests. “I’m a big girl! Like Auntie Ginny!”
Fred smiles as you laugh. “Oh, pardon me! Goodnight, my big girl,” he corrects himself as you lean over and give your baby a kiss on the forehead.
You run your finger through the loose strands of hair that are wispy around her face. “Sweet dreams, my girl,” you speak softly.
“Goodnight, Mummy,” she speaks sweetly, enough to make your heart burst. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she coos at Fred who smiles.
The two of you shut the lights and shut the door gently. You and Fred make your way into your bedroom, getting ready for bed yourselves. As Fred shuts the door behind him, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as you sigh. He presses a trial of kisses up your neck as you smile. “She’s getting so big,” you whine, turning around and facing Fred. He places a chaste kiss to your lips.
Fred sighs. It was true. Daisy was growing up way too fast for your liking. It was exciting, watching her become her own person. But at the same time, you loved her at this age. How small and confident she was. How she thought she was so in control. It was adorable. “I don’t like thinking about it too much,” he confesses. “But...” he trails off before starting to unbutton the buttons of your shirt. “We could prevent that...if we had another...” he suggests as you smirk. “It’s been nearly three years. Don’t you think we deserve another one?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Another baby to keep Daisy company...”
You shake your head, “Fred Weasley, you are relentless.” You press a kiss to his lips and Fred deepens it, kissing you slowly and tenderly as you gently moan into his mouth. He smirks as he pushes the shirt you wear off your body. Quickly pulling away, you look at him. “Are you sure she’s asleep already? I don’t need our daughter walking in on a situation neither of us want to explain to a three year old,” you tell him.
Fred huffs before kissing you again, mumbling against your lips. “I’m sure.” You give him a knowing look as he groans, “Fine. I’ll lock the door. But you better get your ass in that bed.”
You giggle as Fred runs to the door, locking it as you crawl into the bed, a little too excited.
----------
A few hours later, you and Fred are fast asleep, Fred shirtless, arm draped around your torso as you wear his shirt to sleep. The sounds of rain hitting the window sound through the master bedroom, the occasional rumble of thunder here and there. To you and Fred, the rain always helped you sleep, but the youngest Weasley disagreed.
Slowly, the bedroom door creaked open further. She held onto her hippogriff plushie tightly, eyes full of worry. “Mummy?” she quietly asked into the room as you stirred in your sleep, slowly recognizing the voice. “Mummy? Daddy?” she called out again.
You woke up, sitting up straight to see your baby girl standing in the door way, fear in her eyes as she clung onto her plushie. Thunder rumbled outside as Daisy gasped, scared of the noise. “Daisy? Baby, what’s wrong, petal?” you asks, sleep laced in your voice.
She ran to the side of the bed as lightning flashed, you scooping her up in your arms as she held onto you tight, shivering lightly. Sadness coursed through your body as you realized your baby was afraid of the storm that was outside. “Aw, my flower,” you cooed as you rocked her back and forth, her sniffling into your chest. “It’s okay, my love,” you speak, kissing her head.
Fred rubs his eyes and realizing that his daughter was crying into his wife’s chest. Panic rises in Fred’s voice, “Is she alright? Do I need to call a Healer? Muggle doctor?”
You shake your head no. “Our little Daisy Gin is afraid of the storm,” you whisper to Fred who nods his head. “It’s alright, baby. Mummy and Daddy are here,” you flip yourself around so Daisy can see her father. “See? We’re here, petal. Everything is alright.”
Daisy sniffles as she looks at Fred and gives him a timid wave. Fred smiles sadly at his princess and speaks, “Hello, flower. The rain woke you up, huh?” Daisy nods her head. “Bloody rain. Should I yell at the rain? And tell it to stop bothering us?” he asks, still groggy, but you can hear the smile in his voice.
Daisy giggles and nods her head as Fred rises from the bed and walks over to the window, opening it up mid-storm despite your protests. He sticks his head out of the window and screams out, “Hey! Rain! Go away!”
Your daughter laughs madly in your arms as you can’t help but chuckle. Surely the neighbors think you have lost your minds. Fred shuts the window and climbs back into bed as you and Daisy’s laughter fades. However, the laughter is replaced with another shriek from Daisy as lightning strikes and thunder rumbles. She retreats further into your chest as you rub her back, kissing her head.
An idea pops into Fred’s head as he opens his arms for Daisy to curl into. He clears his throat and starts, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.” Your heart instantly melts at the sound of Fred singing to your daughter like he did the day she was born in the hospital three years ago. “I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way, my girl,” he sings as he looks to you to join him.
“Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” you join Fred as the three of you lay in the bed, Daisy cuddled in between the two of you, her sniffles fading. You continue to sing until her eyes start to flutter close and her mouth emits small snores. Slowly, you fade out as she is soundly asleep. Fred brushes his little girl’s hair out of her face with a soft smile. You are too occupied looking at Fred and how he stares at your daughter, your heart racing. As if he couldn’t be a better dad.
Fred looks at you with a smile. “I love you,” you tell him with a small shake of your head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more, my dear,” he speaks before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re my world. The two of you complete me. My girls.”
With that, you and Fred cuddle up to your sleeping daughter, falling asleep to the sounds of the rain.
#Fred and George#fred weasley#Fred and Goerge Weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x reader imagine#fred weasley x muggle!reader#fred weasley x female reader#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasley x fem#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley fic#Harry Potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#Harry Potter Smut#harry imagine#fred weasley smut
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Love in the Limelight - Gabriel Luna x Reader
Summary: You and Gabriel decide that you want to tell they world you're dating at the red carpet of The Last of Us premier
Words: 2k
Warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks
Notes: as always, Gabriel needs all the love and attention he deserves and requested by @pedritosdarling
Y/N’s POV
Stepping out of the limo is always the most nerve wracking part of these red carpet events, so I’m anxious and especially anxious tonight of all nights as Gabriel and I had a long discussion a week ago about telling the world we’re an item. We decided to do it tonight, at the red carpet premier of The Last of Us which Gabriel plays the flirty, southern drawling Tommy Miller.
The noise of the fans is almost deafening as I take Gabriel’s hand when he offers it to me to get out the limo. A sense of excitement and anticipation adding to the anxiety as I wave at some of the fans calling my name, Gabriel and I dropping hands out of habit. I feel beautiful and powerful right now, my stylist being an amazing person and putting me in a black, stylish suit tailored to fit my every dip and curve. The fabric against my skin I both luxurious and empowering and I can’t help running my fingers over the silky soft fabric. My hair is curled into waves, inspired by my stylists love for Peggy Carter which made me chuckle a little when he showed me my hair but I absolutely love it!
The cameras flash and fans scream and it’s a little overwhelming but it’s part of what you sign up for when becoming a celebrity of any kind. The fans are holding up signs with Gabriel and Pedro’s names, waving photos and pens and some are crying. It’s always amazing to see how much love Gabriel’s getting as he’s very underrated in my opinion, even if it’s a biased one. The very man is elbowing me lightly and nodding to the side where, to my surprise, some fans have merchandise of my character from Supernatural and are crying and screaming my name too so I do the only thing I know. I go over to them, greeting them and having conversations with them, letting them take pictures with me and signing everything and anything they want. One girl even asks me to sigh her upper arm, telling me she’s going to get it tattooed and it sort of blows me away. The fans always humble me and I always try to give each and every one the same amount of attention.
All too soon Gabriel’s sliding his hand into mine, apologising to the fans and guiding me into the theatre where the red carpet continues but inside is just for the paparazzi to get their pictures. His hand is warm and strong in mine as he squeezes it reassuringly, sending me a nervous smile before he’s letting my hand go and placing it on my waist. He pulls me close for the paparazzi and I can feel his russet eyes on me, gaze intense and focused, full of love and adoration that leaves me almost breathless. He looks incredibly handsome, dark curls styled and messy and that suit? With the turtleneck? I want to jump him here and now as it looks so fucking amazing on him.
I’m barely registering the flashing of the cameras as the air is suddenly thick with emotions between us, feeling like we’re in our own personal bubble, separate from the chaos that is the red carpet. I can sense Gabriel’s nervousness but at the same time there’s a strange sense of excitement building inside me as I’m unable to look away from him, not caring if we’re ruining the paparazzi’s photos. And then, without any warning, Gabriel is leaning down and capturing my lips in a sweet and somewhat sensual kiss. The cameras are going crazy and interviewers are yelling questions at us but I can barely hear them over the sound of my own heartbeat. In this moment, as cliche and cringy as it is, it feels like everything else fades away and it’s just the two of us, lost in the intensity of our feelings for each other. The kiss feels like it lasts forever and I never want it to end but, eventually, Gabriel pulls away and the world comes rushing back.
My cheeks are burning with the heat of the moment and the realisation of what we just did. There’s no going back now but I don’t mind that as now? Now I get to kiss Gabriel in public whenever I damn well please and I get to pot him on my social media as much as I like with no consequences. Despite the chaos we have caused Gabriel keeps his focus on my, making sure that I’m okay and feeling comfortable and his arm stays securely wrapped on around my waist trying to pull me even closer if it were possible.
We are ushered on to the next stop which is Gabriel’s interview with Samantha, I’ve had interviews with her before for the Supernatural premiers and she is such a sweetheart. She’s one of the few interviewers I don’t mind as she asks insightful questions and just makes you feel so much at ease during the craziness of these events. She’s greeting us with warm and genuine smiles that has some of my anxieties fading. She acknowledges me before going back to Gabriel which I don’t mind as this is his interview, not mine and I’m just happy to take in the surroundings.
“So Gabriel, you’ve played quite a few different roles but would you agree that Tommy is definitely the most complex and nuanced role? Can you tell us a bit about the preparation you did for the role and ho you approached bringing such a well loved character to life?” Samantha begins the interview.
“Oh wow, that’s such a great question,” Gabe nods thoughtfully, arm moving back to my waist as he formulates his answer with thoughtfulness, “Well, we were told not to play the games but I had played it a little bit years ago so I came to set knowing the basics about Tommy and it was just finding my own groove and working out what would work with him and what wouldn’t.”
I stand there, a sense of pride and admiration for the gorgeous sun kissed man, smiling softly at him before Samantha surprises me by turning her attention to me and asking me a question, “And you of course, Y/N Thornberry! You’re no stranger to playing complex roles with your experience playing Eleanor Winchester in Supernatural for the last few years, how do you think Gabriel did?”
“Oh! Well, I think it’s quite difficult to compare the complexity of the characters as Nell is a Winchester and hunting the weird and creepy is in her nature while Tommy got thrown into this life unceremoniously. I’ve played both games of The Last of Us and from the few times I was on the set and seeing them all act I think Tommy has really brought so much life to such a complex character and I couldn’t be prouder of him!”
“You know I just have to ask, you two? Quite the surprise, when did this happen?”
“We’ve been together for almost two years now but just wanted to keep our relationship separate to our work as there can be quite a lot of stigma around couples being cast in the same shows and I for one don’t want to affect Y/N’s career as she’s doing so well.”
“Do you think the same?” Samantha asks me and my throat is tightening as I begin to hear the paparazzi yelling and flashing their cameras right in my eyes. My heart starts to race as I open my mouth to reply but I can’t find my voice, my hands shaking ever so slightly and Gabriel is quick to notice, taking control of the question and answering for me. Samantha takes the answer graciously, eyes flickering down to my shaking hands a sympathetic look crosses her face, “I shall let you move on, have fun tonight the pair of you and we’ll continue this another time!”
We reach the photo spot, marked with a very small ‘x’ on the carpet and my anxiety is bubbling up again, making me feel overwhelmed again at the frenzy of cameras, voices and lights. I can’t a glimpse at Pedro and Bella now making their way down the carpet but quite a few cameras are still focused on us and the paparazzi are yelling at us to kiss, some for me to get out of the shot and just for us to pose for them.
“It’s okay, love. Just focus on me,” Gabriel’s whispering in my ear, voice low and comforting and that southern drawl making me shiver despite my anxiety. He’s pressing a gentle kiss to my temple and I’m taking a deep breath, feeling his strong presence and unwavering support. Those long and nimble fingers catch my chin and turn my head so I’m looking up at him to see that despite the chaos around us his expression remains soft and tender, eyes full of love and devotion. His body solid, warm and comforting against mine, feeling the gentle touch of his hand on the small of my back. His hair, a tumble of soft curls, brushes against my cheek and I can smell the faint hint of his sandalwood and vanilla cologne. My stomach fluttering as he’s searching my gaze for any hesitation and his touch gentle and reassuring, reminding me I’m not alone. He’s leaning down and kissing me again, lips tender and passionate despite the audience.
Gabriel’s pulling away too soon and before the nerves can bubble back up, Bella is appearing in front of us, a mischievous grin on their face. They wedge themself between me and Gabriel, wrapping their arms around both of our waists and smiling for the cameras. We follow along, sending confused looks at each other over their heads before they’re glancing up at us and exclaiming, “You guys are so cute! Totally telling everyone you’re my parents.”
Gabriel’s chuckling, a deep rumbling in his chest as he grins from ear to ear as he pulls Bella into a hug, yanking me with them both and Bella’s laughing as Gabriel replies, “Thanks Bella, we’ll take the compliment but don’t think we’re quite ready for parenthood just yet.”
The whole interaction seems to make the cameras and yelling ease up, no longer focused on us as Bella chats with us and begins the final walk into the theatre to watch the beautiful show that they both helped create. It’s a relief to have a moment of levity amidst it all. I’m sandwiched between the two of them, feeling Gabriel’s hand on the small of my back again as he gently guides me forwards while Bella has their arm linked through mine and we’re all giggling and laughing as the tension fades away. Even as we approach the doors of the theatre, the paparazzi continue to snap photos, their cameras flashing relentlessly but it's different now, more manageable. Maybe it's because we have each other, or maybe it's because the worst of it is over. Whatever the reason, I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
As we reach the entrance, Bella drops my arm and turns to us with a grin. "You two are so cute," she says again, teasing us.
Gabriel chuckles and wraps an arm around my waist, meeting my gaze with amusement in his own as he tells me matter of factly, ”We’re like the cool aunt and uncle now.” It draws laughter from all of the paparazzi that are within earshot, and their cameras are suddenly less intense. It's like they're satisfied with the shots they got, and now they're content to let us go.
We slip inside the theatre, the air cool and quiet after the chaos of the red carpet. I take a deep breath, feeling Gabriel's hand squeeze mine reassuringly. No matter what the magazines and websites post tomorrow, I know we'll be okay. We have each other, and that's all that matters.
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Tiny
it had been the scariest moment of your life, easily
the culmination of henry’s birthday had led to a very welcome pregnancy, with you being coddled and adored by your husband as you grew your sweet unborn child
your unborn baby boy - as you’d found out only a couple of months ago - had been growing really well, on track to be a healthy 7-8lbs (3.5kg)
the doctors had noted the babe’s size, but after the first time Henry walked through the door at the 12 week scan, they realised what they were dealing with
it actually all started to make sense
but the scariest part, was that your sweet boy, due for the end of February had began his mission into the world 6 weeks early, during the first week of the coldest January on record
luckily you had both Henry and Kal at home to rush to your aid while you’d thought you were experiencing braxton hicks contractions
but it wasn't that. it was the real deal
you’re already in active labour when you get to the hospital
you’d held your husband’s hand and wept, not only in pain but with the fear of being “too early, he’s too early Hen”
all he could do was wipe your tears and reassure you that everything was going to be okay. even if he couldnt be certain himself
Baby boy Cavill comes in at 4lbs 4oz (2kg) and is whisked away after you spend just a brief moment with him
he gets some checks, all under Henry’s watchful eye as you make him promise to stay with your son, whose tiny lungs help him to scream and cry out at the suddenly bright, cold world
you’re both alright, but they want to keep you and your son in for a couple of days to make sure he’s stable
Henry has had to call a few people, only the important ones, to let them know the news, doing so quickly so that he doesn’t have to be away from you or his baby boy for long
everyone had said that your baby would be chunky, given your husband’s size, but when you see them in the little hospital crib, they’re so little
it hurts your heart to see how small and fragile he is, but both you and Henry know that he is in the safest place he can be
he’s given a little red knitted hat to wear so that the nurses and doctors know he’s one of the little preemie babies on the ward, and thus needs some extra care and attention
you lean over him in his little box crib, gazing at him all the while, lifting him out to hold and feed when allowed
as soon as you’re given the green light, he is in your arms for hours, settling down and just existing peacefully and contently
Henry is just SO big, particularly when leaning his body over the crib, using the tip of his finger to hold his little man’s hand
he likes to have small conversations with him
“Already repping our rugby team with that hat, son”
Henry’s held him as much as he can already, sitting in the big chair by the bed you lay and rest in, having some skin to skin cuddles
you get a lot of visits from the nurses when he does that
you’ll doze off and wake up to Henry chatting away to the little boy on his chest, a fistful of chest hair in his grasp
“you are lucky you’re cute and brand new because this is quite sore for daddy”
his son is the size of his hand, and between his large palms he’s fragile and little and just the apple of his eye
all his nieces and nephews have been upwards of 7 pounds
so now Baby Boy feels even smaller in his massive arms.
His forearm is bigger than his baby - he can’t believe the little miracle that is his boy
his strong little man
all the clothes you'd brought in the hospital bag swamp him so you need to take a couple offered from the hospital and a pack from the hospital gift shop until you can get more preemie clothes
yes, even newborn size is too big and it makes your heart ache
Henry picks up some Winnie the Pooh items from the shop, and a little stuffed Pooh Bear for his baby boy
after three days you get the all clear to take him home. He’s fine, just tinier than you and Henry - and your families - had anticipated
you walk out happily, still a little in pain but choosing instead to revel in the delight that your sweet boy is okay
Henry has the hospital bag and the car seat with baby in tow
He is minute compared to the large clunky car seat. Somehow he looks ten times smaller and even more precious, holding his own little hands with a soft pout on his lips
he looks just like Henry when he sleeps
you watch Henry click the car seat in expertly, knowing he’s practiced in the garage many times already. He’d always wanted to make sure his sweet boy is safe
Henry drives home ten miles below the speed limit
“it feels like we’re stealing a child from the hospital” “well this one came out of me so i think it’s okay”
the car finally rolls into the drive and stops carefully outside the grand house, and you squeeze Henry’s hand
Baby is sleeping soundly, having not even moved through the duration of the car journey despite you feeling every stone and pothole the car drove over, worried for his safety
Henry carries him into the house in the carseat, resting it gently on the floor in the hallway of your home
for now, it’s just you three, as Kal will arrive later with a very excited family member who you’re grateful to for taking Kal while you’d left in such a rush a few days ago
Henry pulls you in close for a hug, resting his head on yours and wrapping his whole being around you
the past few days have been possibly the scariest in his entire life
but they’ve also been the happiest, up there with your wedding, and the time you took him to his favourite restaurant that was a 3 hour drive away, on his only cheat day that month
after a quiet moment in each others’ embrace, silently feeling each and every emotion together, flooding with relief as you rest on each other for support and love, your son is unpacked from the car seat
he’s like a soft tiny starfish and you coo at his sweet, sleepy face
you carry him because Henry feels like a “clumsy giant” holding his boy, especially when not in the comfort of a large chair where he can remain stable
you hold him and look at his little foot tag from the hospital
“and here we thought we had an extra few weeks for his name...he needs one soon though, he can’t be Baby Boy Cavill forever”
“can’t he?” you hear Henry’s deep voice from over your shoulder and you catch a glimpse at him looking ever so adoringly at your son, as you tear your eyes from the sweet newborn for only just a moment
it’s then that you confirm that your boys definitely have the same face
Baby boy has his daddy’s eyes and chin and you are in love
“you know he will grow up one day. We can’t keep him this size forever. i wish we could though, he smells so good”
to which Henry chuckles and smells the baby’s head, in complete agreement
later on, baby boy lays on his father’s chest. Henry holds them delicately in place, as though they were made of glass
he can nod his head and smell that wonderful baby smell, and know that this little mass of human perfection is completely healthy, and all his
and should he hear a little squeak, as he adjusts his son to stay comfortable for another hour, his immediate reaction is a soft “oh son, it’s okay. Daddy’s here”
with you curled up beside him, falling asleep with ease after such a strenuous labour and prolonged stay at the hospital, Henry realises he will always get to feel this lucky with his little family by his side
he just doesn't know what on earth he’s done to deserve it
and Kal will be such a wonderful big brother, he can already tell. Him and baby are going to be best friends
Baby takes milk like a champ, they’ll be happy and healthy and plump in no time, especially thanks to Henry’s pep talks during feeds or the baby massage sessions he insists on implementing with his large, gentle soothing hands
a few days later, it is decided that Baby boy Cavill is called Will - you’re adamant on Will not William - but he’s often called Junior by Henry, and always Baby Boy to his loving mama
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill writing#dad!henry cavill#cavillary
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forever and a day | 42. the big day.
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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.
characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)
warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.
[Steve]
It’s now been a week since solidifying our moving plans, and the past seven days have been hectic, to say the least. Between various store runs, trips back and forth between the tower and the apartment, painting walls, building furniture, decorating, and all the rest, it sort of feels like I’ve barely had a chance to catch my breath. It’s been good, though. Building a place for Willa and I to truly begin our lives together as a family has been full of excitement and anticipation, and I can’t wait to show her the home I’ve worked so hard to create for the both of us.
“I know I’ve probably said this a thousand times already, but we’re really gonna miss having you here,” Wanda sighs softly to me as I enjoy my last cup of coffee in the tower’s kitchen. Walking up to me, the girl wraps an arm around my shoulder; with almost heavy limbs, I hug her back, a bittersweet feeling rising in my chest.
“We’ll come back and visit plenty, I promise,” I tell her as she pulls away. The teen’s wide eyes look up into mine, and I know my words do little to ease her heartache. “And you can come stay with us, too,” I remind her, “any time you want, kiddo. We’ve got a bed in the spare room for you and Pete, each.”
“I think this is going to be really good for her,” Wanda tells me seriously, shifting the topic of discussion slightly. I nod, relieved to hear that she thinks so. “The transition may take a while, but she deserves a home. A real home, like what you’ve made for her.”
“Hey, glad you didn’t take off before I got the chance to say goodbye,” a new voice calls from the entrance to the hallway. Clint walks over to where Wanda and I are standing, an unusual hint of sadness hidden in his expression.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I assure him casually as he gives me a side-hug, patting my back over my shoulder. “Gonna miss you, pal,” I admit sincerely.
“Yeah, well, you and Buck better not party too hard over there,” he jokes back. “You gotta bring all the fun over here when you come visit.”
“Which will be often!” Wanda chimes in, and I smile, nodding at her. The elevator bell rings from across the room and the two metal doors slide open to reveal Natasha, Bruce, and Thor.
“Captain! Your big day has arrived,” Thor’s strong voice booms through his smile as the trio walk over to join the rest of us in the kitchen. “A grand new adventure awaits you and the little one. I must admit, it’s sad to see you go.”
Nat’s eyes catch mine, and in the faint streaks of light shining down on the quiet woman’s face, I think I can see a thin line of tears forming. I set down my coffee mug on the counter, pulling my friend into a hug. She squeezes me tight and whispers in my ear, only for me to hear, “This place is really gonna suck without you.”
“I’ll miss you too, Nat,” I tell her gently. She smiles at me, her happiness for me and Willa shining through her grief. Looking up at the rest of my friends, a question pops into my head. “Where’s Tony?” I ask, noticing he’s the only one missing besides Peter, who I know is playing with Willa in her room.
“Oh- right. Tony, uh… he left, actually. Went out for the day,” Bruce stutters me, catching me by surprise. “Early this morning. I don’t think he could handle the… the goodbye,” he finishes. The news hits surprisingly hard, even though the two of us haven’t talked at all since I announced that Willa and I would be moving. I don’t know what I expected our farewell to look like, but I was at least counting on it happening. “I’m sorry Cap,” Bruce adds, sensing my disappointment.
“That’s alright,” I manage to say after a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. “I get it; goodbyes are tough.”
“I’m sorry, Steve,” Nat shakes her head.
“He should be here,” Wanda adds softly, a look of disappointment falling over her face. An uncomfortable hush falls over the group as I sigh, not sure what to say.
After several more moments of complete silence, Clint clears his throat, offering an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, I can’t stand the thought of either of you being away for too long, so… how about you join us for dinner sometime next week?” he offers. The others nod and smile at this suggestion in agreement.
“Sure thing,” I chuckle, trying to relax back into the conversation. “I’m sure Willa and Peter will be happy to play again so soon, too.” At the mention of the kids, the looks around the group instantly turn to saddened smiles full of sympathy.
“I honestly think this is gonna be the hardest on Pete,” Bruce admits, and the rest seem to agree with him. “He loves Willa more than anything.”
“She loves him, too. A whole lot. I’ll have to talk to him about planning a slumber party or something soon,” I reply.
“Well, Cap, we should probably let you get things rolling with Willa,” Nat says sadly. I nod, taking a deep breath through my nose. I’ve already discussed with the group that I’d like to leave with the little girl in private, just for the sake of not overwhelming her with goodbyes. That’s why throughout the morning, everyone has taken a moment to go see her and say farewell. What Nat means now is that everyone should retire to their rooms to give us the privacy of departing independently.
“You’re probably right. Thank you guys, for everything,” I nod, looking around and connecting gazes with each member of my wonderful group of friends. “Willa and I both love and appreciate you all very much. And we look forward to seeing you again soon.”
“We love you, Cap,” Wanda whispers softly, a tear rolling down her cheek. And without another word, they all turn and slowly begin to walk away, disappearing into the hallway.
Taking a moment to rest in the quiet, I glance down at my coffee mug, pouring out the rest down the drain before rinsing it and placing it in the dishwasher. As I rise back up from bending over, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window, and what I see makes me smile. All of my life, I’ve wondered who I was. What sort of purpose I had. What I was made for. Before, and even after the serum, I would look at myself in mirrors and reflections and not like what I saw. I would see a lost man, forever searching for his identity. I never became that perfect soldier I always dreamt of being, and after that, I wasn’t sure there was a place in the world for me at all.
But now, through the window, I see someone new. Willa’s dad. And in my fleeting moment of reflection, I realize something very important: with a title like that, I couldn’t be more satisfied or proud of what my life has turned out to be.
“You got this,” I whisper to myself, to that man in the reflection. And deep within myself, for maybe the first time in my life, I truly believe it.
After lingering for a few more moments, I finally decide that I’m ready. Exiting the kitchen space, I make my way over to the hallway, taking the familiar walk down the long row of doors until I reach the very last one on the left. At this point, everything has been moved into the apartment. I didn’t want to worry about carrying any bags or boxes at this stage, considering the fact that this could very well be quite a difficult time for Willa. Though she’s excited, I know the change has also sparked some anxiety within her, and I want to be able to give my full attention to making the process as comfortable as possible for her.
Leaning an ear against the door, I expect to catch some laughter or chatter. But to my surprise, I’m only met with silence. Knocking gently against the solid wood, I twist the knob and push the door open; the sight before me shatters my heart into a million pieces.
On top of Willa’s plush yellow comforter, Peter sits quietly, cradling the little girl in his arms. Tears are running down both of their faces, and the child’s hands are clinging to the teen’s grey t-shirt tightly, knuckles white. Upon my entrance, Peter glances up at me, an indescribable amount of pain written all over his face. He turns his head back down to face Willa, brushing her messy brown hair back behind her ear. “I promise, Willa, I-I promise,” the boy tries, desperation dripping from his words. “He’s not bringing you to a lab… it’s an apartment, remember? It’s just like a house… Cap would never bring you b-back to a place like that, ever.”
“Hey, hey- what’s going on, you guys?” I hum in concern, bending down while approaching the two at the side of the bed. At first, when I saw Peter and Willa crying together, I just figured they were having a hard time saying goodbye. But after hearing what Peter’s trying to convince the little girl of, my worries go much beyond simple separation anxiety.
Reaching out a gentle hand, I carefully set it on Willa’s shoulder; in response, the frightened thing cowers under my touch, curling herself into her friend’s arms. While I was expecting a certain level of fear from Willa, I must admit, I wasn’t anticipating this strong of a reaction. Looking back over this morning, I now regret not spending more time with her up until this point. She’s just been clinging to Peter, which I didn’t think anything of. But now I’m starting to see that maybe she was needing more of my attention and care all along.
“Willa, honey, what’s wrong? What’s all this about a lab? There’s no lab, sweetheart. We’re going home today, remember? Today’s the day I’m taking you home,” I coo, hoping to ease the little one’s fears.
“P-please,” she whimpers into Peter’s shirt, her soft voice muffled by the light grey fabric. “No lab, don’t take me back, please.” My heart breaks at her fears; I had no idea she was thinking like this.
“No one’s bringing you back, Willa-bug. You and I are going to go live in our own house, sweetie, that’s all. A nice house all to ourselves, with a kitchen, and a living room, and lots of space to play. There’s no lab, doll,” I try, but my words seem to be doing little to help.
“Y-yeah, it’s just a house, Wil,” Peter adds, running his finger through her hair. “Steve and some of the others spent this whole week working on it. I bet you guys are really gonna like living there,” he encourages. But no matter what the boy and I say, I worry there may be no way to prove anything to Willa. Her fears are just so deep-rooted; proving them wrong might be the only true way to eliminate them.
“Do you wanna see some pictures?” I ask, pulling out my phone. While the original plan was to keep everything a surprise for the grand reveal, clearly the more important issue at hand is convincing the child of her safety. Quickly scanning my thumb, I open up my gallery, tapping on the first photo I see. “Look Willa, here’s the front of it. The building’s a nice light blue color. We have our own front door, and a little balcony, too,” I describe. Willa keeps her head buried into Peter’s chest, but he gently pulls her away, trying to get her to look. At this, she struggles against him, craving the shield of his embrace.
“Look Willa, there’s a flower box and everything. You guys can have a little garden in there,” Peter comments; eventually, the child’s eyes catch a glimpse of the screen, and she pauses in her struggle, peering warily over at the image.
“That’s right, we do have a flower box. We could go to the farmer’s market and look for some flowers this week; how does that sound?” I offer gently. “I know Bucky goes often; we can have him show us around.” Willa doesn’t respond, but her posture has slightly relaxed, which is as good a sign as any. I slide across the screen to the next picture, continuing, “And here’s the living room, right inside the front door. See? We have a nice big couch where we can sit and watch Paw Patrol.” Willa’s eyes remain on the image, and I swipe again. “Here’s the kitchen; we have lots of room to cook and bake. The cabinets used to be dark, but we painted them white. I like them a lot better now; they match the dining table.” The little girl looks up at me, then back down at the screen.
“N-not a lab?” she asks warily.
“No, sweetheart. It’s a home. Our home,” I promise her. Seeming a little bit more comfortable with the idea now, she turns and looks up at Peter.
“And I’ll come see you soon, okay?” he tells her. A new wave of sadness washes over her face at this. “A-and we can video call whenever you want, just like Steve showed you. On our little TV’s; all you gotta do is ask.”
“Clint already invited us over for dinner next week,” I tell the pair with a slight chuckle. “So it won’t be too long before you see each other again.” Willa reaches a tiny hand up and places it on Peter’s cheek, her big green eyes filled with tears.
“Best f'iends forever,” she tells him quietly.
“Best friends forever,” Peter repeats back, placing a hand over hers. “I love you, Wil. Very much. I’ll see you again soon.” Slowly, their hands fall away, and Peter turns back to me, tears built up in his eyes as he holds out the little girl to me. I welcome her into my embrace, and the teen stands up from the bed, taking one last glance at us as he swallows a lump down his throat. “Steve,” his voice comes out low. Connecting my gaze with his, I nod. “Please, t-take care of her for me, okay?”
Heart swelling at his simple request, I nod again, vowing, “I promise, Peter. She’s safe with me.”
Nodding, a tear slips down the precious boy’s cheek as he mumbles a final farewell before turning and heading out the door, dragging his feet beneath him. Willa’s eyes stay lingering where he disappeared long after he’s gone.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to regain the little girl’s attention. “Okay, Willa-bug. Should we get going, then?” I ask, glancing around her old room one last time to make sure she didn’t forget anything. The child settles silently against my chest as I rise to my feet, holding her close. Taking a deep breath, I follow the path of the teen who’s now disappeared, exiting the room and beginning the long trek back down the hallway. Willa shakes slightly against me as we walk through the living space one last time, over to the elevator where I press the button and we wait.
“Walking there?” her little voice asks quietly.
“No, not walking,” I say with a slight laugh. “We’re driving there.” I’m just now realizing it, but this is the first time since the airport that Willa’s been in a car. And, both the airport trip and the trip to the safe-house were made without a car-seat available, meaning this is the first time she’ll be taking a proper car ride.
“Driving?” the small child asks curiously.
“Yep. In a car,” I tell her, just as the elevator arrives and the doors slide open before us. Stepping in, I press the button for B1, and the doors close back up again as we begin to drift downward. The ride is silent, only lasting a few minutes, and before I know it we’ve stepped out into the parking garage, surrounded by vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Still holding Willa warmly against me, I make my way down the long row of cars until I reach one of the last few parking spaces at the end, where my own black car is parked.
“Car,” Willa says, pointing.
“Mhmm. This is my car,” I inform her, hitting the button on my key in my pocket to unlock the doors. Carrying Willa over to the back door on the driver’s side, I open it up to reveal the car-seat readily positioned and secured into place. Just as I’m about to place the little girl down in it, though, she begins to shake feverishly in my arms, big tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “Hey, hey-” I fuss quickly, bouncing her lightly against me. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? What’re the tears for?”
“P-please, no,” she begs, her eyes fixated on the car-seat.
“What- is it the car-seat? It’s okay, Willa, this is just to keep you safe while I’m driving,” I explain to her gently.
“Please, wait- n-no,” she whimpers. Bouncing the girl in my arms, my mind starts to race, the amount of distress she’s showing once again setting off alarms in my brain.
“What is it, sweetie? What’s so scary about it?” I ask patiently.
“Please n-not tie me down, please n-no,” she rambles, and finally all the pieces fall together in my head. At first, I thought the issue was that it was just a strange-looking seat, something she might not recognize, but now that she’s mentioned the restraints, her anxiety makes a lot more sense.
“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. These are just seat-belts; they keep us safe while the car’s moving. I wear one, too, while I’m driving,” I tell her as I lift the padded straps on the plastic seat, trying to show her that there’s nothing to fear. “Remember we wore them in the jet with Bucky? No one’s tying you down, doll. You’re okay.”
As I continue to hum and coo comfortingly to her, I reach out and settle her down into the seat, my heart aching as she squirms against me. I slide her arms through the shoulder straps, reaching down and finding the buckle between her legs. “P-please,” Willa continues to sob, “p-please, no- d-don’t hurt me.”
“Shhh sweetheart,” I soothe gently, “you’re okay; I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe, Willa-bug. Always safe with me.” Finishing up the clips, I finally pull my hands away, giving the little girl a moment to adjust to the seat. Her big green eyes stare fearfully up at mine, still flooded with tears; reaching out, I run a hand over her hair gently. “See? Not scary,” I coo.
But instead of repeating it back, the child only squeezes her eyes shut, whimpering out another frightened “please.” My hand trails down and brushes softly against her cheek, but before I can say anything more to try to comfort her, a familiar red glow begins to rise up across her tear-soaked skin.
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#faad#faad: the big day#eun's writing#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers series#steve rogers au#steve rogers angst#steve rogers fluff#hurt/comfort#steve rogers x child!oc#dad!steve rogers#the avengers#avengers fanfiction#mcu#mcu fanfiction#captain america#captain america fanfiction
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Plus One
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Word count: 3000ish
Summary: it’s baby time y’all!
Warnings: pregnancy complications, angst
Author’s Note: to those who have been waiting, I AM SO SORRY. I hope this will be worth it! Part 8? to Begin Again. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments if you feel so inclined.
Previous Chapter
Masterlist
Conversation flowed in the dining room and kitchen of the Hotchner residence as the BAU team and family impatiently anticipated the forthcoming announcement.
“It’s a boy, has to be,” Morgan mused.
“No way. Definitely a girl,” JJ contradicts.
“As much as it pains me to say, I think I have to go with Morgan on this one,” Emily admits.
“Garcia?” JJ inquires, “What do you think?”
“I have to agree with Chocolate Thunder on this one, love,”
“Are you all taking his side?” JJ asks with indignation. “I’ll bet you $50 that it’s a girl!”
“Oh you’re on, sweetheart,” Morgan complies with a winning smile.
“I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy,” says Reid, “but I do know that I wouldn’t bet against JJ.”
“Thanks, Spence,” JJ replies, patting him on the shoulder. “Emily, Rossi? You wanna get in on the action?”
“Oh I am so staying out of this,” Prentiss responds. “Count me out.”
“I’m in with Morgan for $50,” Rossi states.
“Alright, but you’re all gonna be sorry,” JJ says with a smirk.
Overhearing the lively discussion, you enter the room.
“Children, what’s going on here?” You interject, “Don’t make me break up a fight.”
“Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see!” Exclaims JJ. “May I?” She asks, gesturing towards your growing baby bump.
“Sure, go ahead,” you reply. “Do I even want to know?”
“We’re taking bets on the sex of the baby,” she replies placing a gentle hand on your belly. “And I am so totally going to win!”
“You can’t possibly know that, JJ,” Morgan interrupts.
“Call me crazy if you want,” says JJ, “but a mother knows.”
“I suppose you’ll all find out soon enough,” Aaron cuts in, placing a strong arm around your back and pressing his lips to yours for a quick, tender kiss. “Shall we?”
With that, everyone makes their way to the backyard, where a large golden balloon awaits.
Picking it up from the ground, Aaron asks, “Everybody ready?”
He didn’t really have to ask. The answer was unanimous.
“YES!”
“Jack, would you like to do the honors?” you inquire, holding out a safety pin for him.
“Can I?” he asks hopefully.
“Of course you can buddy. Just be careful, okay?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Dad and I will count you in, okay? On three.”
Together, you and Aaron slowly count, “One, two, THREE!”
A loud pop from the balloon momentarily startles the crowd and then..... a cloud of pink confetti floats to the ground.
“YES!” JJ shouts in her excitement. “PAY UP, LOSERS! We got a baby shower to plan!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several weeks later found you strolling through the back door of Rossi’s home into the yard where you’d married the man of your dreams not so very long ago.
This time it’s decorated for a slightly different occasion. Pale pink lanterns and streamers adorn everything in sight. A picnic table covered with a pink flowered cloth looks like it might collapse at any moment beneath the weight of a mountain of gifts wrapped in pastel paper. Heart shaped balloons are tied to the corners of another table on top of which is a giant bowl of pink punch, more food than you thought possible, and a breathtaking cake, decorated with tiny pink roses.
A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn to see three beautiful, smiling faces. Women that you consider to be not only friends, but family at this point.
“Penny, Emily, JJ,” you say as your eyes begin to well up with tears, “This is too much! You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.”
“Oh this is the least we could have done for you, doll face,” Garcia interjects. “Nothing but the finest for my very best friend.”
“Don’t worry about it, my clean sweep at the gender reveal paid for most of this,” JJ jokes.
“You look absolutely radiant,” Emily adds, pulling you in for a hug.
“Where’s the boss man?” Penelope asks. “He’s coming isn’t he?”
“Oh yes” you reply. “He was helping Jack out of the car. He told me to come on in. He’s probably inside hanging out with boys for a minute.”
At that moment, you feel a pair of familiar arms encircling you, one across your chest and one just underneath your baby bump. A soft kiss on the cheek and he turns you around to face him. The tender look in his usually stern eyes melts you as he smiles and says,
“There’s my girls.”
“I love you, Aaron.”
“I love you too, darling.”
“Alright love birds, it’s time to get this show on the road!” exclaims Morgan, coming through the door with both Henry and Jack in tow.
“Thanks for keeping the kids entertained, Derek,” you whisper. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mama. I’ve got it all under control,” he reassures with a wink.
“Should we be worried?” Aaron jokes under his breath.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Garcia offers, trailing off behind them.
Rossi and Reid bring up the tail end of the group, along with Jessica, Jack’s aunt, who had been previously supervising the kids.
“How are the parents-to-be feeling?” Rossi inquires.
“Overwhelmed, and so grateful,” you reply. “I know JJ said she covered most of it with her winnings, but I think we all know you pitched in too. And you’re a fantastic sport for letting the girls decorate your whole house pink.”
“Anything for some of my favorite people,” he replies patting you both on the shoulder.
“I’m so happy for you guys,” Reid chimes in. “This baby’s really lucky to have such loving parents.”
“Reid, stop. You’re gonna make me cry,” you squeak out, pulling a tissue from your purse.
Just then, Jessica wraps an arm around both of you.
“Jess, you know you didn’t have to come,” Aaron says.
“Nonsense!” comes her reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
As you go to sit so you can open presents, Morgan pulls out the chair for you, then pulls one out for Garcia as they settle in to watch the kids.
Maybe you were mistaken, but you could have sworn you saw a flirty look pass between them. A mischievous grin crosses your face. Perhaps you should do a bit of your own matchmaking.
“Jack!” you call. “Don’t you wanna help Mama open some of her presents?”
“Yeah! Can Henry help too?”
“What do you think JJ?” you ask.
“As long as it’s okay with you,” she agrees.
The kids ran up to help with their very important present duty. Jack retrieving smaller presents and helping rip the paper. Henry mostly just playing with the shiny bows. Thus leaving Morgan and Garcia free of responsibility.
When the last present had been opened, and the last game played, Aaron made his speech.
“Y/N and I just wanted to thank you all so much for being here today. We love each and every one of you like family, and we are truly grateful for all your love and support. We are truly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives. Thank you again.”
As everyone was leaving, Penelope pulled you to the side.
“Did you call the kids over for help specifically to leave Derek and I alone together?”
“Penny, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” came your reply. “I’m just getting too big to be bending over to grab the presents and I thought it would be fun for the kids.”
“If you say so,” she says with a skeptical look.
As she walks away, Aaron whispers in your ear, “You are so wrong for that, you know?” with a playful shove of your shoulder.
“Oh they’re perfect for each other and everyone knows it. Besides, she played matchmaker for us and look what happened,” you reply, rubbing your belly.
“Okay, okay!” he surrenders with a grin. “You’re right. You’re always right. You win.”
——————————————————————————
As the weeks crept by, your little family was not so patiently awaiting the arrival of its newest addition. Being pregnant and taking care of a 6 year old without your husband was extremely taxing, making the moments that you did have with him exceedingly special.
Moments like today. It was nothing exciting, just sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company, but sometimes that’s all you really need.
Seated across from each other, You can’t help but admire the sweet look on his face as he touches your belly.
“I still can’t believe we’re having a baby girl,” he mentions.
“Neither can I,” you agree. “She’s gonna be smart,” you state, resting your hand on top of Aaron’s. “A lawyer like her daddy.”
“She can be anything she wants,” he says, looking up with his smile revealing the stunning dimples that caught your eye on your very first date. “As long as she’s happy.”
“God I love you, Aaron.”
“I love you more, angel.”
But mom duty never stops.
“Oh!” you exclaim. “It’s almost time to pick up Jack from school and I haven’t even started dinner!”
“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Aaron says. “I’ll take care of everything, you just relax.”
“But I,”
“Ssshhhhh,” he interrupts. “No buts. I will pick up Jack, I will get dinner. You deserve a break.”
“Alright, if you insist.”
“I do.”
He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours.
“I’ll be back soon.”
What felt like an eternity later, you hear the front door open and two distinct sets of footsteps.
“Mama!” Jack yelled, scrambling up into your lap for a hug. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too, buddy,” you reassure, pulling him close to your chest.
“What’s for dinner, honey?” you ask?
A playful smirk forms on Aaron’s face, raising your suspicions.
“You’ll see. In the meantime, Jack how would you like to watch a movie with me and mom?”
You all settle on the sofa, Jack in Aaron’s lap and your head on your husband’s left shoulder. Just as you were drifting off to sleep near the end of the movie, a knock at the door startles you awake.
“Dinner’s here!” Aaron announces. “Come on buddy,” he encourages Jack. “Help me out.”
As you reach the table where the food is being laid out, tears begin to spring to your eyes.
“I got you fries and chocolate shake. And a cheeseburger. No mayo, extra pickles.”
“Babe,” you squeak out, “you remembered.”
“Of course I remembered. It’s all you talked about while I was away on my last case.”
You laugh and pull him close.
“I knew I married you for a reason.”
——————————————————————————
Around your 36 week mark, Aaron called from his hotel room to check on you.
“How are you, love?”
“Still pregnant,” you gripe.
“I know you’re exhausted, mama. I’ll be home tomorrow. Just remember the go bag for the hospital is packed and sitting right by the front door, just in case.”
“Yes, Aaron. You remind me every day. Honestly I think it’s bit overboard, I’m fine.”
“I just worry about you being alone while I’m gone is all. It never hurts to be prepared. Anyway, I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Love you too honey. Good night and be safe tomorrow.”
——————————————————————————
When Aaron arrived home the next night, he was greeted by the sight of you dozing on the couch.
Easing himself down on the edge, he swipes a lock of hair from your face. He softly kisses your forehead and watches as your eyes flutter open.
“Aaron?” you murmur. “You’re home.”
“I’m home,” he whispers. “How are my girls?”
“Better now that you’re home. I’ve had some pretty intense back pain, but otherwise fine.”
“Well sleeping on the couch probably isn’t helping,” he states matter of factly.
“Oh thank you doctor,” you reply sarcastically, giving his arm a playful slap. “I would never have known.”
“You’re welcome,” he says with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get some sleep.”And with that, he sweeps you off the couch, heading for the master bedroom.
——————————————————————————
You woke the next morning still in pain, but not wanting to disturb Aaron. You struggle to sit up, finally managing after a few tries. You pull back the sheets and immediately get a sense of panic and dread at the sight of blood on the hem of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you. As the tears begin to stream, you instinctively call out for him.
Waking up at the sound of his name he asks, “what’s wrong, baby?”
But he realizes the problem before you even get a chance to respond.
Amazingly he seems not to panic at all. The tears and hysterics don’t faze him at all. He simply grabs you out of the bed, carries your directly to the car, and buckles you in.
“Stay right here,” he instructs. “I’m getting Jack and we’re going to the hospital right now.”
What seems like an eternity later, but in reality was only a few minutes, Aaron emerges from the house with Jack and the go bag.
He peels out of the driveway and drives to the nearest hospital with no regard for the speed limit.
When you arrived to the emergency entrance, you look at him with a panic stricken face.
“I’m scared, Aaron.”
“Don’t worry darling,” he says soothingly. “I’m going to get you some help.”
The next thing you know several people are helping you out of the car and loading you onto a stretcher. As they wheel you inside he follows closely behind with Jack asleep in his arms.
“What going on?” you plead.
“I don’t know, love but they’re going to help,” he reassures.
Just then you overhear a member of the medical staff informing Aaron that he’s not allowed any farther.
“What do you mean he can’t come with me?” You wail.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but bleeding is very serious. Both you and the baby could be in danger. We need to get you treatment now and we can’t have any family in the room.”
“It’s okay,” Aaron says in a very calm and sure tone. “They’re going to take good care of you. Everything will be fine.”
“FINE? Nothing about this is fine!” you shout. “I can’t do this without you, Aaron.”
“Yes you can,” he replies, holding your hand. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You have to. Do it for her.” He says, placing his hand on your belly.
“We have to go now,” one of the nurses insist.
“Be strong for me okay?” He pleads, gaining a short tearful nod from you in response.
“I love you,” he calls out as they wheel you swiftly down the hall. Just before the stretcher is out of sight he hears your response.
“I love you more.”
——————————————————————————
Collapsing into a chair in the waiting area, mind racing with worry, Aaron does the only thing he can think of at the moment.
The phone rings, and then,
“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon after a case,” Rossi says. “We don’t have plans today, do we?”
“No, Dave. It’s Y/N. We’re at the hospital.”
“Wow, I didn’t think she was due for a few more weeks.”
“She’s not,” Aaron explains, his voice beginning to break. “When we woke up, she was bleeding. From what I understand, it’s pretty serious. You’re the first person I thought to call.”
“Oh my God,” Rossi breathes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Should I call the rest of the team?”
“Yeah, I think that would be best. I could really use some help with Jack. He’s still asleep for now, but,” Aaron pauses for a moment, choking back tears. “I don’t know what to tell him when he wakes up,” he finishes quietly.
“Just hold on, Aaron,” Rossi replies. “We’re coming.”
——————————————————————————
Within an hour, the whole BAU team was crowding the hospital waiting room. Hugs were exchanged and Aaron had handed a still sleeping Jack off to JJ.
Everyone waited in tense silence, not knowing quite what to say.
“I’m scared out my mind, Dave,” Aaron confines to him. “I can’t lose her. I’ve been through too much already. And Jack, God it would crush him if anything happened to her.”
“I think he’s waking up,” JJ whispers.
“Dad?” He asks in a daze as he wakes. “Miss JJ? Where are we?” He questions now aware of the unfamiliar surroundings.
Coming over to squat down in front of him, Aaron does his best to explain.
“Well buddy, this morning mom got sick, so we brought her to the hospital, and the doctors are taking good care of her.”
“Is she going to be okay?” he inquires. “And my baby sister?”
“I hope so, the doctors are working really hard to make mom better okay?”
“Daddy, we should say a prayer for Mama,” Jack responds. “And my baby sister too.”
“I think that’s a great idea, Jack,” Aaron responds, as he quickly turns away to wipe a tear.
The whole group gathered closely around Jack and Aaron. Everyone took turns saying prayer for the health and well being of Y/N and her unborn daughter.
Moments after the last amen was said; just when Aaron thought he would die if he waited a moment longer, a doctor came through the doors.
“Mr. Hotchner?”
Aaron stood, bracing himself for the news.
“Is it alright if I speak in front of the group?”
“Yes, they’re family. Please, just— do you have news about my wife?”
“Sir,” the doctor continues with a look of concern. “You all may want to sit down for this.”
——————————————————————————
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