#being a whole clan's hope for a bright future is so fucked up. like yeah sure im smart and i can go places but holy shit. the pressure of

[smcc212]

My Daily- Part 2

Pairings- Thomas Shelby x female!

Word count- 1,744

Warnings- The tiniest bit of angst you’ve ever seen in you life, the Shelby/Grey family not really liking you, a little pic tommy, fluff, etc. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N- Thank you to @hinagiku0 for requesting this and I’m soooooo sorry this took so long. I really hope you enjoy!!

(I’m too lazy to find a gif so use your imagination, thanking you)

A few days had passed and your dream had come to an end. You were hoping that when you got back to arrow house you’d be able to enjoy the feeling of being engaged for little bit longer before it was ruined, but, of course, your further in-laws were there, waiting for you and Tommy. You sighed, knowing that they weren’t here to be friendly to you.

“What’re you lot doing here?” Tommy asked the second we were in front of them.

“You just disappeared, Thomas. Where were you?” Polly asked. Her eyes flickered to you for a moment, disgust filled them. You tighter your grip on Charlie’s hands ever-so-slightly.

“I went travel with my son and my fiancé, Pol. I made sure the business would run smoothly, I don’t see-“

“Your what?!”

“My fiancé; my future wife.” Tommy’s voice was filled with pride as he spoke up you.

“Tom,” Arthur began. “She’s with you for your money, brother, are you blind?” Arthur, unlike Polly, didn’t sound angry, he sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit!” Tommy exclaimed, exasperated with this whole ordeal. “(Y/N) will be my wife; she’ll be our family, and you lot have to learn to live with that. She’s not with me for my money, for fuck sake!” Tommy’s shouting must’ve scared Charlie because he started wailing. Polly went towards him, but he turned around and grabbed on to your leg.

“Mummy, why’s daddy angry?” He cried. No missed what Charlie had called you and, even though you saw him as your own, you knew you had to correct him. You pried him away from your legs, crouched down to his level and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, I love you, but you know I’m not your mummy,” you said as softly as you could. “But, I love you so so much, okay? And I know your mummy loves you too.” He threw himself into your arms and you didn’t hesitate to hug him back.

“Why’s daddy angry?” He asked again.

“Daddy’s not angry at you, sweetheart. It’s grown up stuff, and I know that’s annoying to hear, but I’ll tell you when I’m older.”

“Promise?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes on the back of his tiny hands.

“I promise, baby,” You cooed, placing a kiss on his head. “Come on, love, you’ve got violin practice,” You spoke softly, taking ahold of Charlie’s little hand and leading him into the house, sending Tommy a small smile as you did.

You were sitting listening to Charlie play the violin when Tommy called a family meeting, and, since you were going to be his wife, he invited you along.

“(Y/N), took you long enough, eh?” Tommy said, he sounded slightly annoyed.

“Sorry, I was busy supporting your son,” You bit back. “Why am I here, Tommy?”

“Because we’re going to deal with this situation-“ He gestured between you and his family. “-because I’m sick of this.”

“We’re just looking out for you, Thomas; she’s using you,” Polly spoke softly.

“Tom,” You sighed. “I’ll just sign a prenup, problem solved!” You exclaimed in mock celebration. “So, can I go now?”

“No, no you’re not signing a prenuptial agreement.”

“Wh-what?” You stammered, looking at Tommy like he was an alien.

“If I die, I’m not leaving you with nothing.” He stood his ground. You looked around the room and, for once, it seemed like Polly agreed with you.

“I can look after myself, Tom. I was doing fine before we got together!” You spat.

“Yeah, you were working for me.”

“I had a job before I worked here. I left that job to work here, I didn’t need to work here.” You rolled your eyes. Did he really think you’d perish without his money? “For fuck sake, Tom, I don’t need nor do I want your fucking money!” You shouted, his family believed you only wanted his money, did Tommy believe that too?

“You don’t want it, no? Then why do you let me buy you all those expensive dresses and jewellery? Eh? Tell me that, (Y/N),” He replied, his face was still stone-cold, as always, but you could hear him getting pissed off.

“Because they’re fucking gifts, Tom! I don’t like expensive dresses and jewellery, but I wear them for you! You fucking idiot, Tom,” You sighed, exasperated. “I hate having to be posh and proper, but I do it for you.” You looked at the floor, not wanting to meet Tommy’s gaze.

“Why?” He asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do it if you hate it?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because I love you, Tommy,” You spoke softly, walking towards him. As you stood in front of him, you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I love you, Tommy, I’ve never been ‘proper’ and I don’t like it, but I’ll do it for you.” He placed his hands on top of yours.

“You don’t have to be ‘proper’, love. I fell in love with you before you started acting ‘proper’, didn’t I?” His soft voice flowed gently into your eyes, his slight chuckle at the end painting a smile onto your face.

“Tommy, can we going travelling again soon?” You whispered, feeling guilty for a reason you couldn’t determine.

“You wanna do it again?” He tried to hide it, but you could hear the slight confusion in his voice.

“Yeah... It was fun.” You shrugged, looking at your shoes bashfully.

“Okay,” He chuckled slightly, and god did you love that sound. “Okay, we can go travelling again, not sure when but we will.”

“Yay!” You squeaked. “Charlie‘ll be so excited.” You smiled at him.

“I think he just wants to see you try and ride a horse again.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t that bad,” You laughed, playfully hitting his arm. Tommy placed his hands on either side of your face, slowly bringing his lips to yours, dancing gently together.

“I can’t wait to marry you, love,” He whispered as the dance ended.

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait, Tom, because I’ve got a lot of planning to do,” You giggled, he smiled down at you, pecking lips yours once more before turning to address his family once again.

“(Y/N) and I are getting married, and that’s that. So, suck it up and deal with it, yeah?” He wasn’t really asking so much as telling. No one said anything, they still didn’t trust you, but no one had seen him like that since before Grace died and it’s always easier to be around Tommy when he’s happy.

*

“Just breath, (Y/N), it’s gonna be fine,” Mary said from behind you.

“Correction- it’ll be perfect,” Sarah encouraged as she finished your makeup, a bright smile painting her face.

The Ivory a-line you’d dreamt of since you were a girl was on. Your hair was styled perfectly, thanks to Mary, and your makeup was perfect, thanks to Sarah. Your perfect groom awaited you. You took a deep breath, stood up and said: “Okay. I’m ready,” You enthused. “Let’s do this.”

You walked down the isle, nerves eating away at you. Kicking your dress forward slightly with every step you took towards Tommy.

“Hi,” You whispered as you stood in front of your future husband.

“Hello. You look breathtaking, my love,” He whispered back. Your exchange of whispered words was halted as Jeremiah began to speak.

“We are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to celebrate to coming together Thomas Michael Shelby and (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N).” Jeremiah spoke clearly and loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the church. As Jeremiah continued, your eyes never let Thomas. His crystalline eyes staring into mine, a smile plastered onto his face.

“Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, through sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“And do you, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), take Thomas Michael Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to, through sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Then, with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” Jeremiah exclaimed happily. Thomas wasted no time, placing his hands on either side of face and planting his lips on yours. Cheers and applause were heard behind you. When the two of you finally broke the kiss, Tommy smiled at you while you chuckled nervously. Tommy was the one to grab your hand and pull you back up the isle. Outside a photographer waited, ready to snap some pictures to remember the day by.

*

After a long, loud, party, you, Thomas, and the rest of the Shelby/Grey clan headed back to Arrow house. You gave tommy a quick, but loving, peck on the cheek and headed upstairs to get changed. You took the dress of and carefully hung it up. After you dresses in some more comfortable clothes, you couldn’t help but stare and the dress. How could this have happened to me? You pondered. Married to the love of my life(even if his family hated me) all because I got a job. You smiled to yourself as Mary opened the door, an excitable Charlie in her arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N)- I-I mean Mrs Shelby,” Mary said, quickly correcting herself. “Charlie wanted to see you, I can look after him if you want?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Mary. You should get some sleep, I know he can be a handful sometimes,” you giggled, taking Charlie into your arms. She smiled back at you.

“Thank you, Mrs Shelby. Good night.” She politely left the room, closing the door behind her. You sat on the bed, making silly faces as Charlie laughed. Soon though, Polly appeared. She opened the door silently so you didn’t notice her. A slight smile graced her face as she saw you with her great-nephew.

She sat next to you, but didn’t say a yo thing as you looked at her. Suddenly, her hand slide over your stomach.

She smiled slightly. “You’re good with him. I hope you’ll be just as good with this one.” She looked at her hand on your stomach, your eyes widened as you realised what she was implying. She gave you a knowing smirk as she left the room. Gently, you placed Charlie on the bed, one hand still holding him as the other went to your stomach.

Taglist:

@the-makingsofgreatness

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fic #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine

[drarrymybeloved]

a gift for @isamijoo​ as part of the Wheel of Drarry Mini Exchange🥰💞thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care​ for the beta!

wc: 1.7k | rating: G

Not All Heroes Wear Capes, But Mine Sure Does

Draco Malfoy, Editor in Chief of Witch Weekly Magazine, eyes his watch and then the stack of paperwork on his desk. He knows he should stay and get through at least half the pile before lunch, but there is also a photoshoot going on in Studio B right this very second that he wouldn’t mind overseeing. Only because the photoshoot is such an important project for the magazine. Not because of the presence of a certain someone at said photoshoot, not at all.

I’m the Editor in Chief of the damn magazine and I can go wherever I like, he decides. He nods his head as if confirming his own thoughts and exits his office to head towards the studio.

Draco had begun working at the offices of Witch Weekly soon after he finished his community service sentence. Starting as a lowly clerk, his ability to charm and enamour as needed, had him slowly but surely climbing the ranks.

Now, at twenty-five, Draco is the youngest Editor in Chief in the history of Witch Weekly. Soon after his promotion, he had recruited Pansy as a columnist and Blaise as a photographer, both of whom are involved in today’s shoot.

And what a shoot it is, Draco thinks with more than a little satisfaction. Featuring the Golden Trio, the rest of the Weasley clan minus Percy who was “just too busy to make it”, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, the Patil twins, and Lavender Brown, it’s going to be printed as a special edition with all proceeds going to the War Orphan’s Trust. Incidentally, it’s also one of the most— if not the most— star-studded spread in the magazine’s history. Blaise will photograph all the volunteers in various costumes and get-ups, while Pansy will interview them on the side.

When the idea was first proposed, Draco had been sceptical. While the others were less recalcitrant, Potter was well-known for his dislike of modelling of any kind. He hated being in front of a camera, and everybody in the press corps knew it. Without Potter, the venture wouldn’t necessarily fail, but it would definitely not generate as much profit. Draco had meant to ask formally, perhaps through an official letter bearing the magazine’s seal. Instead, he found himself asking Potter at the weekly inter-house pub night, a tradition started in eighth year that— inexplicably— continued well past Hogwarts. Surprisingly, Potter had agreed with minimal fuss. He wasn’t happy about it, but he had agreed nonetheless.

Reaching the studio door, Draco takes a moment to brush non-existent dirt off his suit jacket and straighten his already straight tie, before pushing open the door. There are a fair amount of people milling around, talking and laughing. He can see Weasley, Finnegan and Thomas near the refreshments table. Charlie Weasley is talking animatedly with Luna while Longbottom listens with a bemused expression. Ginerva and George are slowly turning singular strands of Hermione’s hair purple as she talks passionately with Lavender. The Patil twins are having their makeup done, and Bill Weasley is being interviewed by Pansy.

Draco takes all this in with a cursory glance, his attention instantly drawn towards the man currently posing for the camera, like a compass finding true north.

Harry Potter stands in front of the camera, wearing a gladiator’s skirt cinched with a belt adorned with a golden lion, a red cape adorning his broad shoulders. A sheathed sword hangs at his waist. On his feet are black leather sandals, the straps of which rope around his muscular calves. Without his trademark glasses, his eyes look impossibly brighter. His bronze skin practically gleams under the lights. Presumably, someone had applied oil on him at some point. Draco hastily pushes away all thoughts of hands and oil and Potter out of his mind. Potter’s hair looks artfully tousled instead of its usual mess— a near-miraculous feat if you ask Draco. He makes a mental note to jot down the name of the hair stylist for future photoshoots. The thought is there and then gone because just then, Potter draws the sword hanging at his waist, and Merlin and Morgana, Draco was not prepared to see Harry bloody Potter looking like a hero out of a Greek legend.

Draco lets out an involuntary whimper.

“Hello, Draco.”

Draco quickly snaps his gaze away from Potter to find Hermione looking at him with an amused expression. The purple streaks are gone from her hair— she’d probably known what Ginerva and George were up to the whole time. Meanwhile, Draco had been so busy ogling Potter, he hadn’t even seen Hermione approach him. He flushes faintly and attempts to sound like the Editor in Chief of a major publication rather than what he actually feels like— a schoolboy with a pash. “Hello, Hermione. I hope everything is going smoothly?”

Hermione grins. “Yes, it’s all been rather fun actually. Reminds me a bit of Sunday lunch at the Burrow, what with so many people around.”

“Good, that’s good to hear,” Draco says distractedly, attention already straying back to Potter.

“Harry’s looking rather good, isn’t he?” Hermione asks nonchalantly, following Draco’s gaze.

“What? Oh, yes, yes of course. Now that you mention it, he is. That is, I mean, the stylists did a brilliant job. Especially with his hair, it usually looks like a bird's nest,” Draco lets out a strained chuckle, his cheeks burning. He never should have come down here. Merlin.

Hermione presses her lips together, her eyes bright with amusement. “You should tell him that yourself, he’ll like it,” she gestures behind Draco.

Draco turns, and sure enough, Potter’s coming off the set towards them. He doesn’t even stop to change into regular clothes, for fucks sake. How is one supposed to hold a conversation with him looking like that?

“I’ll leave you two to it then, got some catching up to do with Parvati,” Hermione says, grinning wickedly. Before Draco can say another word, she’s already gone.

Cursing internally, he turns to face Potter, determined to keep his attention on Potter’s face and his face only. Not that that’s not distracting enough. Pushing the unhelpful thought away, Draco opens his mouth to greet Potter. What comes out is, “That’s quite a get-up you’ve got going on.”

Oh joy, already off to an excellent start. Draco cringes internally but forces himself to smile in what he hopes is a pleasant manner.

Potter laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, I do feel pretty ridiculous in all this. They’ve even strapped a bloody sword on me. I barely know how to handle it.”

“Looked like you were doing alright, actually,” Draco says before his mind can catch up with his mouth.

“Oh, er, thanks Draco,” Potter smiles bashfully, bringing his hand up to ruffle his hair. Draco’s eyes helplessly follow the flex of his bicep.

Snapping back to attention, he grasps for something other than Potter’s sword-wielding skills to talk about.

"I have to say though, I was quite surprised when you agreed to this. It's no secret you dislike photoshoots immensely," is what he lands on. It’s something he’s been wondering about and he wouldn’t mind knowing what made Potter agree to do this.

“Yeah, I don’t much like being treated as if I’m some celebrity and I’ve never been good in front of a camera. I would have said no but well…” he trails off, looking at Draco intently. “You’re the one who asked, so,” Potter shrugs as if that clears everything up.

Draco blinks. In a dazzling display of eloquence, he says, "What?"

Potter flushes, but he looks determined. "I agreed to do this because I know this photoshoot is important to you. Not just this shoot, the magazine as a whole. I know that you’ve worked hard to make it into something much more than just another gossip rag. So, um, you know, I did it for you,” he rubs the back of his neck, his face flushed crimson. “It also helps that it’s for charity,” he adds, chuckling awkwardly.

Draco gapes. “But...why?” he manages, bewildered.

“Draco,” Potter huffs. “Because I care about you. As in, I have feelings for you. I thought you would have guessed by now, it’s not like I’m great at subtlety. Pretty much everyone else knows,” he smiles nervously.

 Oh. Oh.  

“You have feelings for— wait, everyone knows?” Draco demands. “And no one thought to tell me?” He hates his friends, really truly despises them all.

Potter’s eyes crinkle with the force of his smile. “Wait so, what are you saying?”

Draco rolls his eyes, attempting to sound cool and collected even though he feels practically giddy. “I’m saying, Potter, that I have had “feelings for you” as you put it, for an embarrassingly long time. And everyone knows,” he says, cheeks pinking. “Well, everyone except you, apparently,” he amends.

Potter laughs delightedly. “To be fair, you didn’t catch on to my feelings for you either.”

“We’re rather ridiculous, aren’t we?” Draco says, laughing ruefully.

“Well, we’re both in the know now, so how about we go for a celebratory dinner?” Potter asks, eyes bright.

“Good idea,” Draco says, attempting— and failing— to keep a straight face.

“Potter!” Pansy’s voice cuts across the room.

“Time for your interview it seems,” Draco says.

“Yeah, although I do have some questions for her myself,” Potter says, squinting at Pansy.

“Oh, I will absolutely be having words with her. And Hermione,” Draco huffs.

Potter smiles at him, and it’s such a wide, unrestrained thing, Draco’s heart misses a beat. “I’ll see you after, then?” he asks.

Draco nods, smile softening. “Pick me up at seven, you already know the address.”

Potter flashes him one last smile before walking towards Pansy’s corner.

Draco watches him go with what is most definitely a besotted smile on his face before turning around to leave. His steps falter when he sees all of their friends staring at him, expressions torn between unbridled glee and despair. He frowns— until he catches sight of Ron glumly handing over a handful of Galleons to a triumphant George.

“You absolute pillocks, did you place bets on Harry and me?” he asks in disbelief.

“It’s a lucrative business,” George winks.

“Sorry Draco,” Lavender says, not looking sorry at all as she pockets the coins Padma grudgingly hands her.

“I hate you all,” Draco informs them cheerfully as he heads towards the hallway, professionalism be damned. He hears them laughing as he steps into the hallway, but he’s too elated to be properly pissed off at their machinations. He’ll get back at all of them soon enough, but for now he has a stack of paperwork to finish— he can’t be late for his date after all.

read on ao3

#am i posting this solely bc i got excited about making a banner? #yes. yes i am #drarry #drarry fic #wheel of drarry mini exchange #fluff and humor #ty to the microfic discord for enabling me😌

[pathofcomets]

soldier, keep on marching on (1)

fandom: mass effect andromeda

pairing: (eventual) jaal/ryder

summary:  There’s a home out there, in the stars. 

playlist: spotify

There’s a home out there, in the stars. That’s all she needed to know to understand that she has something of her father in her blood, the urge to go out and explore – make the unknown known. Late night hours spent in front of the wide window, Scott dozing off on her shoulder as she maps out the galaxy in-between bright, shining point. She can’t really resent the fact that her dad is never around, when there’s all that to be had instead.

Ellen tried to explain them, that Alec Ryder’s absence has nothing to do with his children, or his family. He’s simply a soldier, a hell of a good one, and there’s lives to be saved and discoveries to be made, and if he can do it, he will. It was hard to grasp the idea that their dad is something more than the awkward man they have to sit in silence with during rare family diners. Harder for Scott, who started his rebellious years early and fucked up as many times as possible, getting into shady gangs and countless fights. Just because then their dad would have to actually look at him, take him seriously. What an emotional little brother she has.

Then the idiot still went ahead and became a soldier himself. A legacy if she ever saw one – and he listened to no one who tried to maybe calm his determination. So Sara sat him down on the bed in her miniscule college dorm, fixing up the bruises and bleeding on his face, as he shuffled through the notes on her datapad. The muscles and the brains: whole only when together. Because while her twin went ahead to fall into his father’s steps, hoping to one day surpass him, Sara decided to be as scholarly as their mother – just in a different direction.

“Archeology?” her parents have asked when they heard.

Her dad placed the datapad where her acceptance letter glew with a definitive disappointment back on the table.

“Xenoanthropology to be more accurate, but yeah. There’s still so much of the Prothean technology undiscovered.”

“Oh,” said her mother, and she gathered her daughter in her arms, because yes, the space has called out to her as well.

So Sara went to college and Scott went to training and they were both on the Citadel still, both still together for a bit longer. Her brother told her she would have made a good soldier as well – heck, Alec Ryder made sure to pass some of that N7 training down to his children. Of course, Scott was the one who truly excelled, but there’s one thing she always beat him at: target practice. She laughed at him when he told her, and joked that he’s saying that just because he doesn’t have any competition now. She was part of the military, yes – but not in the same way, not in the heat of every battle.

Then their mother got sick – then they got sent to different planets. The get-togethers became rarer, though the video calls were often enough, as a trio. Their dad stopped replying to his emails, weeks in-between replies.

Then Scott got dismissed. A day later, she did too. Ellen welcomed them both with a hug, set a new load of laundry, placed coffee in front of them – as Alec joined them.

On the table, a hologram of a galaxy six hundred years away. His dream – achievable only with AI. Their futures here thrown away, stopped in track, for a chance at a future somewhere else. Still so far away from being ready, but close enough that the entire Ryder clan became a threat.

“It’s not fair,” she said, looking up at her father.

“It’s not,” he agreed, and Ellen grabbed his hand.

The end of the conversation, just like that.

“I want the world around you not to hurt with my mourning,” their mothers said, and it was the first time in ten years that Sara saw her brother cry. It was the first time she saw her father’s eyes glow over.

She’s right. You cannot have your parents shape the path of humanity without everything around you reminding it of you. If – if they are to remain in the Milky Way, it won’t feel like home anymore without the one person who held them together all along. Heck, Scott has biotic implants – something that Ellen Ryder helped design and implement. She’s part of them in more ways than one.

Scott turned to his twin – holding out his hand.

“Sister?”

She took it.

The most time they spent together as a family was that last month of Ellen Ryder’s life. They went out every evening, honouring all the times they didn’t. Their mother told them of the time when she met their father for the first time. Alec shared stories of the first contact, of those initial alien days. Her and Scott shared a room all over again, unable to fall asleep unless in each other’s presence, the weight of the future heavy on their shoulders. Then their mother became too weak to move from her bed, and their father never left her side.

Even if Ellen told them to live their life, to chase their hearts and guts – even in a galaxy so far away from home, she’s not sure if they’ll be able to. Still in mourning, Alec Ryder becomes the human Pathfinder. The Andromeda Initiative moves forward, the twins’ name on the team. The future, happening now – happening 600 years in the future.

Scott turns to his twin – holding out his hand, embarking the Ark of the new humanity.

“Sister?”

She takes it.

#mass effect andromeda #mass effect #jaal x ryder #female ryder #scott ryder #me: andromeda #soldier keep on marching on #alec ryder #andromeda initiative #attempting not to seem self-inserty bc i keep ryder's name as sara #when mine is the same with the exact same spelling

[hilllsnholland]

Everything I Need To Hear

Pairing: Rich!Tom x Reader (Basically RichKid!Tom but a tad older)

Wc: 1.8k

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy but its fluff 

Summary: Telling you fiance that you’re pregnant is nerve-wracking 

A/N: What can I say? Dad!Tom makes me so soft and @mrs-hollandstan keeps teasing me with it!! Also RichKid!Tom is amazing? And I might make a series of this after MCBYL. Depends if y’all like it though. 

  The bright white lights of the room made you feel hotter than you already were. The nerves were eating at you. It had been two weeks since you figured out you were late, and now you’re late late. You had bitten your bottom lip until it became numb, your mind wandering and memorizing the gold trim of the bathroom. You stared at the pregnancy test that sat on the marbled counter and for a second you can’t breathe.

   You know how you got here though. Tom had taken you to Switzerland for a ski trip as an anniversary present. After a whole day on the slopes, the two of you had cuddled up next to the fire with a glass of pinot grigio, your head on his chest while his fingers played with the bottom of your sleep shorts. The heat of the moment overcame you, not caring about how you had forgotten your birth control at home and Tom didn’t pack any condoms. But at the moment you didn’t care, the two of you wanted each other in the most intimate way. 

   The memory was wiped from your mind as the test changed. For a second, everything was cold. You didn’t know what you expected, but it was still surreal. Your eyes scanned Pregnant on the test over and over again. Your mouth fell slightly but no words slipped through your lips. Emotions overwhelmed you as the room started spinning. You were not upset, but it was a lot to handle when you weren’t planning for it. 

   You had always wanted children and Tom had always agreed. He’d say three every time. Two boys and a girl that looked just like you. But this was not part of the plan. The two of you had been together for two years and were engaged, but kids were a far off plan. Something to think about in three to five years, not months before your wedding. You exhale and place the test in your purse, knowing the maids might snoop if you threw it away or hid it in the bathroom. 

   Tom would be home soon and you needed to recollect yourself before he arrived. He was spending the afternoon with his brothers at the golf course, getting a couple of holes in before the two of you needed to meet with the wedding planner. You walked outside to the rose garden to get some fresh air, your mind flooded with a hundred thoughts as you held your normal sized stomach. 

   The memory of Christmas flashed before you. You sat next to Tom around the dazzling Christmas tree, presents abundant for the Holland clan, and the house was decorated beautifully. Not only were the Hollands rich, but they loved Christmas so they went all out. Full-size Nutcrackers, garland around every post and railing, and music played at all times in the background. You stared at Harry and his wife, Brooke, playing with their one-year-old daughter and her new toys. Your heart melted at the sight, Tom also seemed smitten as he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“She’s so precious.” You sigh. 

“You wanna hold her?” Harry asks and holds up the child. 

   You didn’t even respond, you take the girl from his arms and hold her tightly. She moved around in your arms and babbled a bit, but she cuddled into your chest as she was falling asleep. It had been a long day and she was tired after being stimulated by the lights and sounds. Tom watched the two of you, his eyes almost turning to hearts, and he took a picture. 

“When are you two gonna have kids?” Paddy asks as he turns around his seat. 

“One day bud. Let us get married first.” Tom replies but damn did he want to make you a mom right there. 

   It seemed like fate now. You remember that moment wanting to have a talk with Tom about having kids but talked yourself out of it. Funny how things work. You looked across the garden and rubbed your hands together. You were excited, you wanted to have this baby, but Tom’s reaction scared you. He was well off, money would not be an issue. He had enough money to take care of a village of kids, but was Tom ready? He talked about being a dad all the time, but it was always future tense. Never speaking about in the moment because it seemed impossible for you to get pregnant because you were so careful. 

   You heard Tessa barking across the lawn and lump landed in your throat. Tom was definitely home early and it was time to face your fiance. Tom will take it well, you kept saying that over and over again but nerves still flooded your body. You entered the house through the outdoor breakfast doors, Tom was sitting in the kitchen getting a drink of water. He instantly brightened up as he crossed the room to you. His tight polo showed off his beautiful arms and his trousers were fitted nicely around his torso. He looked like a whole snack and you knew that was how you got pregnant. 

“Afternoon love, how was your day?” Tom kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Your words are shaky as you return his embrace. “I’m fine. How was your time with the boys?” 

   Tom started going off about Sam’s swing and you completely zoned out. All you could think of was babies and Tom. It was tunnel vision to you, all you could see was Tom holding a beautiful baby in his arms. You only snapped from your daydream when Tom started talking about Harry and his daughter. 

“Harry had to leave to go pick up the little munchkin. She’s getting so big now.” Tom rambles as he turns away and cleans out his cup in the sink. 

“Yeah, “ You pause for a second and clear your throat. “I wonder when they’ll have another.” 

“Brooke said she wants another in like a year or so. Harry said he wants to wait at least three but you know he is.” 

   Tom seems oblivious to your softened glance, your heart pounding harder as you skimmed over the topic. You wanted to yell it out but you had to wait a bit longer, get a sense of how Tom will react. You eyed your purse that sat on the counter, walking towards it slowly. 

“The little darling deserves a playmate soon though. She’s a ball of energy and she needs a friend.” You were slow with your words, watching Tom’s reaction. 

   He didn’t quite get what you were saying, shrugging as he put the dishes away and looking back at you with that beautiful smile of his. Oh, how you hoped your baby would have his smile. 

“Yeah, she does.” Tom looks at you and breaks out into an even wider smile. 

   He walks around the counter to get to you, wrapping his arms around your front and placing a hand on your stomach. You became tense, did he know already? Did he have some weird sense? Had you been too obvious? Tom kisses the top of your head and hums into your hair. 

“One day love, we’re gonna make a beautiful baby.” Tom rubs his hand across your stomach and laughs. “You’re gonna be a great mom one day. I hope to be an even better dad. I’ll make sure that little babe has everything they’d ever want and I’ll love them as much as I love you.”

   You felt tears form in your eyes and you slightly shake in his arms. Tom furrows his brows and turns you in his arms. He becomes concerned as the tears fall from your eyes. Tom tries to wipe them away and kisses your head. 

“I’m sorry love did I say something to make you upset? I didn’t-” 

“No, Tom,” You pause and grab the test from your bag and putting up for him to see. “You said everything I needed to hear.” 

   Tom’s eyes became large and his mouth drops wide open, you nod your head as he keeps mouthing words that you couldn’t understand. 

“Holy shit,” Tom says as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your face over and over again. “I’m so fucking happy love.” 

   You let the rest of your tears to fall as Tom celebrate, picking you up and spinning you around the kitchen. Tom places you on the counter and cups your face, kissing you on the lips and letting himself also cry a bit. Just a bit though, he was overwhelmed with happiness and he couldn’t contain it. He pulls away and kneels down to your stomach, pulling your shirt up a bit and kissing it and rubbing a hand across it. 

“There’s a baby in there.” He says in a dreamy voice. 

“Barely. I’m only a couple of weeks. Five at most.” 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re growing a beautiful baby and I can’t wait to meet him or her.” Tom kisses your stomach again and laughs. “You’re gonna be so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad.” 

   You pulled Tom from your stomach and up to face you. His eyes were watery but still as beautiful as ever. You gazed upon his face, hoping your future child would have his eyes or cheekbones or his gorgeous smile. 

“We’re gonna be parents.” You cry again and Tom nods.

“Yes, we are. I’m going to spoil that little babe. Even more than you if that’s possible.” 

   You laugh and cup his face. He spoiled you with clothes, food, jewelry, and makeup almost every day. You couldn’t even think of what he’d do for your baby. You knew the baby would probably have every toy it ever imagined and their room would put yours to shame. A laugh and kiss your fiance again. 

“I love you, momma.” Tom murmurs against your lips which makes your heart explode. 

“I love you too, “ You point down to your stomach and smile. “And so do they.” 

   Tom leans his forehead against yours and holds you in a warm embrace. For the first time since you’ve taken the test, time had slowed down. You were in his arms and your hand covered the front of your stomach. You knew there was nothing much now, but you were overjoyed with the months to come that you’d grow bigger and have a beautiful bundle of love soon enough. You bring Tom closer, kissing him again and again. 

“You’re gonna make a perfect baby and I’m gonna love you both with every last fiber of my body. I’m going to spoil you two until you have everything you could possibly need. I love you two so much and I can’t wait to meet this perfect baby.” 

   You kiss him again and his hand is now over yours on your stomach. Flashes of your future come to you, a beautiful bump and telling all of your family and friends. A perfect little son or daughter to spoil, parent, and cherish for the rest of your lives. It was everything you needed and Tom had reassured you. 

“Perfect, that’s everything I needed to hear.”

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