#i did the coffee three times and now i get nauseous when i smell it so never agaon

[frostyyyroyalmilktea]

Nevermore!Tyler x Thorpe!Reader pt.6

part 1 part 7 this fic on ao3

Hi loves! I know it's been like three months since I updated this story and I'm sorry! Life happens and school does too and also my health started acting up a bit so yeah. It's a lot. This chapter is Tyler's POV with a little bonus at the end. I'm thinking I might starts writing more of his POV, I hope you'll like this format. I'm still going to write MC's POV as well but it'll probably be somwhere around 50/50 split. I just love writing Tyler's perception sm (°◡°♡)

Hope you enjoy! Don't hesitate to drop me a comment telling me what you think (*σᴗσ)

Tyler

Tyler spent a lot of time learning how to tune out the noise in crowded places. With his enhanced senses that shit didn’t come easy. Dr. Shin has been a tremendous help in all of it, and these days Tyler has almost perfected the ability to just not hear every conversation or discern every smell in a 1000 feet radius.

Today, however, something feels off. Tyler can feel the attention directed at him itching under his skin. It’s been like that since he sat down for breakfast 15 minutes ago. People keep throwing very much not stealthy looks at him every couple of minutes like they’re expecting a bomb to suddenly go off where he’s sitting. The conversations are hushed and Tyler’s growing anxiety hinders his ability to concentrate and listen in on at least one of them.

So he just sits there, pulled taut like an exposed nerve, and waits for the other shoe to drop.

Y/n is late again, which by her standards is not late at all. Her morning cup of tea is steaming next to his own breakfast. Cereal was not on the menu today so Tyler grabbed some sugary thing that may or may not be a croissant under all those layers of strawberry jam and nutella. Makes him a bit nauseous to even look at it. Y/n devours it in three bites and calls it God’s gift to humankind. Figures.

Tyler is wiping nutella off her face, the two of them pretending that it is beyond any shadow of doubt a task that requires outside help and not just some awkward flirting technique—God, they’re so bad at this—when Enid plops down at their table looking like she hasn’t slept at all and is already operating on at least four coffees. It gets more concerning, though. She’s followed by Wednesday, who’s followed by Xavier fucking Thorpe himself. Tyler is still confused about their conversation on Saturday. Xavier on the other hand seems to be less hostile towards Tyler this morning than usual. Which is very worrisome.

Enid takes a chair next to y/n, Wednesday sits down next to Enid, and Xavier sits down next to Wednesday, which coincidentally also puts him next to Tyler. Y/n doesn't seem awake enough to comprehend the sheer weirdness of the unfolding scene until Enid turns to her and asks, wide-eyed and distressed, “Have you seen it already?”

Y/n blinks at her a few times, confused. “Seen what, babes?”

Enid passes her phone with trembling hands. Tyler can hear the beating of Enid’s heart, which at the moment resembles a rabbit on Red Bull.

Y/n plays the video that was already pre-loaded. It’s a clip from Good Morning America, a musical segment in Central Park. The title reads Jeremiah Elffire Presenting His New Single “Trust Fund Baby” Live From Central Park!  

Tyler is vaguely aware of this guy because he remembers watching a show on Disney with him as the main character a couple of years ago. Tyler is generally clueless about pop culture so he’s somewhat confused about why exactly is Enid freaking out so hard right now. Did this guy get super famous after his Disney days?  The view count is already sitting at over 500k even though the video was uploaded less than an hour ago.

When y/n hears the first verse, she goes uncharacteristically still.

“I don't want a girl who gets a car for her sweet sixteen

Or spends a stack of dollar bills on a limousine

I want a girl who takes the bus and who wears baggy jeans

Rockin' Nike Airs, what the hell are Louboutins?”

Tyler’s still not sure what exactly is going on here but the angry grinding of y/n’s teeth tells him it’s not anything good.

Xavier leans into his ear and in a conspirational whisper about as subtle as a tornado warning siren informs Tyler, “That’s her ex,” gesturing at the screen of Enid’s phone with his spoon. Then he goes back to eating his oatmeal as if nothing happened.

The video goes on.

“Don't want no fake tan, short skirt, daddy's money don't work

Shop until you drop on the town

I want a smart girl, stronger than her father

Someone who will laugh at tryna fit in the crowd”

“And all we used to dream about

Is getting rich and getting out

Move to the nicer part of town

Where we'd have numbers on our house”

“You little asswipe,” y/n seethes, “you’re from fucking Palo Alto!”

“I don't really want no trust fund baby

I like my women independent

And I say to people, that's my lady

And we don't need nothing else”

“I don't want a girl who takes selfies, want her makeup free

Don't want no mean girl, lady in pink, prom queen”

The plates and cutlery on every table in the dining hall start rattling. Y/n doesn’t notice and Tyler fears that any second now she might accidentally shower people in their own breakfast.

“I want a throwback kid who loves Missy Elliot

Who for my birthday, makes a mixtape and puts it on cassette

Want a girl with common sense, who's dripping in competence

Don't wanna die to get rich but she loves Fifty Cent”

“Alrightie,” Tyler says with confidence he doesn’t feel. “I think we got the general gist here,” he gently extracts the phone from y/n’s deathly grip with some help of his superstrength and hands it back to Enid. 

Enid starts rambling like someone has put her on 2x speed, “I am so sorry to be the one to show you this, oh my god, I hope you don’t hate me or anything but I just, I just thought it would be like a thousand times worse if you haven’t seen it and everyone will be talking about it at school because you guys were absolutely an it couple and all, and then you’re going to be caught off guard and…” Enid runs out of breath, but before she can continue y/n gently catches her hands—which were flying in every direction as Enid tried to reinforce her point with frantic gesticulation—and catches her eye. “It’s fine, Enid.” 

Y/n’s soft and steady voice momentarily deflates Enid’s agitated demeanor. “But, but…” Poor thing tries to form a coherent sentence but she’s not very successful. To be completely fair to Enid though, if Tyler was in her position right now, with y/n’s attention focused on softly comforting him, he probably wouldn’t even be able to recall his own name. 

“It’s just a gimmick. A former Disney kid desperately clinging to relevancy at the expense of a high-profile relationship he was in and a catchphrase that will cause some stirring in the media. Don’t get worked up over this, love. And don’t comment on it to anyone. Publicly or privately. Present company excluded.”

“Yeah no, I would never discuss your personal life with anyone like that!” Enid looks horrified at the thought. 

“Mon petit furet, I know you wouldn’t,” y/n says, sympathtic. “It’s just people know that you’re my friend and any comment you offhandedly make can be twisted and sold off to TMZ by some loser chasing his 5 seconds of fame.”

To an outsider’s eye y/n would seem like the epitome of calm right now, but Tyler already knows some of her tells though. He can see that she’s actually far from calm and he has no idea what to do. He turns to Xavier who lazily watches y/n’s exchange with Enid, chin propped in one hand, sipping from a coffee cup in the other one. “Does this not worry you?” Tyler hisses at him. “Even a little? You can’t not see that she’s not okay.” 

“Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win,” Xavier says like it’s a completely normal thing to say about your sister’s trashy ex disrespecting her in front of the entire country.

“Are you quoting The Art of War at me?” Tyler asks in disbelief.

“He is,” says Wednesday without looking up from her gigantic dusty old book. 

Xavier sighs. “What I’m saying is, have patience with her. If you do, it will pay off tenfold.”

“Okay, I don’t know why you’re talking like a fortune cookie right now and I’m not sure I’m too keen to find out,” Tyler says.

At this moment y/n’s phone starts ringing. She declines it on the little screen of her terrifyingly futuristic phone and a second later it starts ringing again. It happens another three times before she shuts the phone off altogether and gets to her feet. “We’ll see you in class, guys,” she says to the rest of the table as she picks up her and Tyler’s bags. “Have a good day.” Tyler catches the tiniest crack in her voice before she takes off towards the exit.

He takes it as his cue to follow her.

***

They skip class. Not that Tyler really expected that they would attend it today. Y/n walks way faster than usual, clutching their bags in both hands like she’s taking them to execution. 

Tyler realizes she leads them to that little shed near the dormitory that he walked her to the night she saw him as a Hyde. The classes have already begun so the forest is very quiet and peaceful. The same can’t be said about y/n.

She throws Tyler’s bag on the ground, then grabs her own with both hands, and covering her face with it she starts screaming into it.

Tyler is so out of his depth here. 

He decides to just wait until she gets it out of her system and then maybe she’ll talk to him or something.

His hopes don’t come to fruiting because when she’s done screaming, she just slumps on the ground, her back leaning on the outer wall of the shed, and starts crying.

Tyler carefully sits down next to her and she leans into him as she tries to take her sobbing under control. He wraps one arm around her and she tucks her face in the crook of his neck. They just sit like that for a while until her breathing evens out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tyler asks quietly.

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s so stupid, Tyler. Like, I meant every word I said to Enid. I know what this is. It’s all about business and trending and getting into charts. It’s not supposed to hurt me but it fucking does and I hate it…I hate it.”

“I think, in a way, it’s good that it hurts.”

“Dafuq?” Y/n asks, raising her head a bit to look him in the eyes. She’s not angry though, her eyes are soft and curious.

Tyler doesn’t really know what to do with this level of trust from someone. 

“It means you’re not like him,” Tyler starts, trying to put his words together with care. “Your feelings make you…well, you. That guy seems to be more like a cardboard cutout of himself rather than a real person. Thornhill tried to make me into something like that too.” I thought she succeeded until I met you, he doesn’t say.

“That’s a nice way of looking at it, I suppose. I just…I hate remembering the good stuff. Because there were good times too, at the begining.” She says quietly, hiding her face again.

“What changed?” Tyler asks.

“On a larger scale, everything did. His career was taking off—mind, not without the help of media coverage he was getting for dating me—and he started to become more and more obsessed with his “persona”. His mom hired this new publicist who, like, tried to mold him into another Harry Stiles or some shit. Steady girlfriend was very much not in the cards for this kind of image. And on a smaller scale, he broke up with me after my powers manifested. Which is such an idiotic display of bigotry too," she scoffs, "like, both my dad and my brother are outcasts, you couldn’t seriously expect me to end up a normie.”

“Probably still hurt, though,” Tyler says, gently petting her hair.

Y/n just hums.

“So what’s next? You’re just going to ignore everything until people forget about it?”

“I really don’t even want to think about him anymore. But ignoring it won't work this time,” y/n says, slowly disentangling herself from Tyler. “I already gave him too much agency over the situation by staying quiet.” She gets to her feet and offers her hand to help Tyler up. She doesn’t let go even after he’s standing firmly on his own. The look on her face is absolutely captivating, eyes burning bright with determination. Tyler is unable to look away.

“This time I’m gonna fight back. Fuck being the bigger person. I’ll hit this fucker where it hurts.”

***

Y/n Thorpe Just Posted On TikTok For The First Time Since The Release Of Her Ex’s Jeremiah Elffire Controversial Song Allegedly Aimed At The 17 Year-Old Influencer And Her Fans Are Setting The Social Media Ablaze

Jemma Young for Buzzfeed News 

This week proved to be particularly eventful for the fans of a 17 year-old TikTok influencer Y/n Thorpe, the younger daughter of a well-known Hollywood medium and soothsayer Sébastien Thorpe. 

After y/n’s outcast status was publicized without her consent a few months ago, following a controversial split from the former Disney golden boy Jeremiah Elffire, y/n deleted all social media sans TikTok (where she unfortunately also stopped posting for a while but was previously known for her musical covers) and went completely off the grid.

This prompted a lot of speculation from the fans on what the cause of the sudden breakup might’ve been and whether y/n’s outcast status had anything to do with it. The official statement from the Thorpe estate's publicist came later that month, assuring fans that the split between two teens was amicable and for now y/n is focusing on her education, switching to a school that specializes in helping young people master their supernatural abilities.

Fans of young miss Thorpe were delighted to see her come back to TikTok with a heartfelt rendition of Rufus Wright’s Hallelujah [watch the original tiktok here] a few weeks ago. Some fans noticed that the song was a bit out of y/n’s usual repertoire, which sparked a discussion on Twitter regarding miss Thorpe’s mental state and well-being. Many of her loyal fans came to y/n’s defense though, stating that they’re just happy to see her doing what she loves, sharing her positive energy and creativity with the world again. 

Some people still had their doubts, though, when a video from one of miss Thorpe’s schoolmates surfaced a few days later where young influencer gets into a verbal altercation with a fellow student. We reached out to the user who posted the video but didn’t get any further comments about that situation.

A new wave of scrutiny came Y/n Thorpe’s way when Jeremiah Elffire released his new single titled “Trust Fund Baby” this Wednesday. He premiered it live on Good Morning America and the video hit one million views in less than two hours. The accompanying music video was released a few hours after that and sits at a comfortable 3 million views at the time of writing this article. However, the like/dislike ratio was disabled almost immediately and fans on Twitter point out that the comment section seems to be heavily filtered. 

Miss Thorpe stayed quiet for the first 24 hours after the release so fans expected her to not make any comments regarding the issue, same as after the breakup. However, this morning a new tiktok was uploaded to y/n’s account that seems to be addressing the brewing drama in a subtle, yet cutting way. 

In a short clip with a Taylor Swift’s song playing in the background, y/n shows what appears to be her morning routine: she creates an extravagant make-up look with vibrant pink eyeliner, her short haircut is tastefully styled with two gold-rose hairclips shaped like little crowns, and even though her outfit isn’t lavish by any means, being simply the school uniform of the educational institution she attends, some watchful fans pointed out the peculiar detail that might’ve escaped the notice of everyman.

[screenshot of the comment by the user “littlemissgetwrecked”]

Guuuuys!!! I don’t think you understand the gravity of this shade!! She’s wearing fucking Louboutins!!! You can’t tell at first because they’re sneakers and not signature high heels but you can see the red soles when she spins!!!! 

Another user followed with a comment supporting this statement.

[screenshot of the comment by the user “notyomama”]

I know!!! I’m literally going feral over this! I scoured the Louboutin website to make sure and she’s wearing Louboutin Fun Vieira , their comics-themed sneakers. I LITERALLY CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS GIRL. The tea is scorching hot *sips aggressively*

The caption of the video boldly proclaims “what’s a girl gonna do, a diamond’s gotta shine” with the hashtag  #makethewholeplaceshimmer, mirroring the lyrics of the song playing in the background.

This particular choice of song is hardly a coincidence. Y/n mentioned many times before that Taylor Swift is one of her favorite artists and a big inspiration for women who want to achieve success in the music industry despite the sexist scrutiny media puts them through. For those of our readers who are unaware, Bejeweled by Taylor Swift was allegedly written about an ex-boyfriend, famous DJ  Calvin Harris, and describes her partner’s emotional absence, as well as him taking the singer for granted. 

Thorpe’s fans quickly connected the dots and the speculation on what exactly led to the Thorpe/Elffire breakup resurfaced with more vigor than before.

 Elffire’s loyal fanbase also joined the conversation to defend their fave, stating that this is “exactly the self-conceited behavior to be expected from an out-of-touch nepo baby [in regards to Thorpe]” and that they are happy that the “toxic influence is finally out of [Elffire’s] life for good.”

The fans are taking sides and the comment section of y/n’s video reminds a battlefield at the moment, yet at the time of writing this article the comments still haven’t been disabled and the tiktok video keeps racking hundreds of thousands of views every day, currently reaching a little bit over 4 million with 1.2 million likes.

Subscribe to our social media so you never miss the fresh news from the celebrity world!

***

author's note:

Enid is so baby in this chapter, this girl was more worried about y/n’s drama than her own brother lol

Btw, MC calls Enid "mon petit furet" which google traslate assured me means "my little ferret". I though it was a fitting nickname because MC likes to give everyone nicknames and Enid is cute and ferrets are cute and also are very good and sniffing out and finding things, like Enid is with gossip.

The song I used as the one MC's ex used to shade her is actually Trust Fund Baby by Why Don't We. No shade to the band whatsoever, I think it's funky little pop song but it fitted my story perfectly so I used it. Jeremiah Elffire is a completely random character I came up with and is not based on any real disney actors. Also I don't really remember if Xavier's dad's name was mentioned in the show and I coudn't be bothered to check so I just made one up for him.

*Palo Alto is an expencive neighbourhood in California so that's why MC reacted the way she did to that line in the song

Btw it's been so long since I updated, idk if people are still interested to be tagged so if you are, please let me know in the comments!

[halstudandruz]

Leap of Faith

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Your dog has suddenly become a little too clingy

Warnings: Pregnancy, Swearing

“Nittany, I love you. I swear I do, but please get off my ass.” You sighed heavily after tripping over her for the third time in the last hour.

“Is she still all up in your business?” Your boyfriend asked walking into the kitchen to grab a water.

“What do you think?” You gestured to the dog who lay at your feet in front of the stove.

“Nittany come here.” Jay called her. She lifted her head to glance at him before laying it back down on her paws. Normally the dog was Jay’s sidekick, following him around everywhere, but only going overboard, like she was with you now, whenever Jay had gotten hurt at work. She would sleep at his side of the bed, lay up against him on the couch, and would only go outside to the bathroom if Jay ordered her to. So, it was weird for her to be acting this clingy. “Maybe we should make her a vet appointment.” He thought out loud, looking to you for your opinion.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure. Just weird since she only acts like this when you’re hurt.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit concerned. Maybe something was wrong with you? Dogs do have that kind of instinct.

“Well are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He stepped towards you, concern lacing his voice.

“Honey, I’m a secretary at a firehouse. What exactly do you think would happen to me?” You smiled at him appreciating his concern, “Really I’ve felt fine.” You shrugged, it wasn’t a lie.

“Alright well I’ll give them a call to see what they have open.” He kissed your cheek lightly, pulling out his phone as he walked into the living room.

“God, that smell is making me nauseous.” You crinkled your nose at the cup of black coffee Matt held in his hand taking a couple steps away from him. You and your three best friends had agreed to meet at Gabby’s to go shopping together for the latest charity event you all would be attending tonight.

“Just because you drink more sugar than actual coffee in the morning doesn’t mean we all do.” He teased, gesturing to the tray of caramel macchiatos you had picked up on your way over to your friend's house.

“I for one am glad you have good taste.” Gabby chimed in, grabbing one of the cups from the tray to take a drink.

“Ditto.” Sylvie and Stella both agreed, taking the remaining cups into their hands.

“Make fun of us anymore and you won’t be getting any coffee next time.” You challenged, tossing him the empty cup holder to throw away.

“Yeah right you all love me too much.” He smiled, taking a drink from the Starbucks cup that you had distanced yourself from.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Gabby rolled her eyes playfully, leaning to press a soft kiss to his lips, “We’ll be back. I love you.” She grabbed her keys from the counter.

“Love you too. Have fun ladies.” He bid the four of you goodbye as you walked to Gabby’s car.

“I must’ve slept awful last night. I’m so tired.” You admitted leaning your head back to close your eyes as Gabby started the car driving towards the mall.

“Ditto. Not for the same reasons though.” You caught Stella’s smirk in the rearview mirror.

“How is Kelly doing after all that went down last shift?” You asked.

“Surprisingly well. He doesn’t seem at all fazed by it. I was definitely more scared than he was.” She admitted.

“Speaking of, has anyone read the Sun-Times this morning?” Sylvie asked, pulling her phone out of her purse. You all shook your heads waiting for her to elaborate as she stuck her phone out for you all to see.

“Leap of Faith?” Gabby giggled out loud.

“Would you look at those hotties.” Stella joined in grabbing the phone to read the article out loud.

“Is it just me or do my boobs like fucking fantastic in this dress?” You admired yourself in the mirror. The tight black dress accentuating your breasts perfectly, allowing you to show off more cleavage than you were used to. For some reason they felt fuller, must have been the detailing on the dress.

“They do indeed.” Stella nodded approving the outfit.

“Yeah I’m gonna get this one.” You checked yourself in the mirror once again after getting identical approval from your other two friends before changing back into your clothes.

“What are you guys doing Tuesday? I was thinking about making an appointment to look at dresses and then we can grab some dinner?” Gabby asked once you appeared back beside her, looking through the rack of clothing in front of you.

“I’m good.” Sylvie confirmed and Kidd agreed beside her.

“Nittany has a vet appointment that day. I can try to change it to Monday or see if Jay can take her but I don’t want to push it back any further.”

“What for?” Sylvie inquired a couple feet away from you, holding a red dress in front of her to look in the mirror.

“She’s just been acting super weird. Really clingy and won’t leave my side. Which I don’t mind, but it’s just not like her. The only time I’ve ever seen her act like that before was the couple times Jay got hurt. She flipped out when I went to leave today and Jay wouldn’t let her follow me.” You explained, laying your dress over your forearm to look at shoes.

“Awe poor girl. Hopefully nothings wrong.” Sylvie frowned.

“I’ll text Jay right now and ask him if he can take her.” You pulled your phone out opening up your messages.

“No, big deal if not. I’m sure we can find another day. Wouldn’t want something happening to Nitt on my account.” Gabby waved you off.

“Ya know I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in a mattress store before I really don’t know how they stay open.” Sylvie thought out loud as you passed a Mattress Warehouse located beside a Hallmark store.

“Honestly you’re not wrong.” Stella said mulling the thought over.

“I just told Jay the other day we need to look for a new mattress. My lower back has been killing me. I tried the chiropractor but it didn’t seem to help as much as it usually does.” You complained, feeling the annoying pain currently.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with Halstead bending you over to break it every night.” Stella teased, fully aware that you and your boyfriend had an active sex life.

“Shut up.” You giggled, unable to deny the accusation.

“Can honestly say I don’t blame the girl.” Gabby smirked.

“Ew gross can you please not?” You huffed, but it was accompanied by a laugh. They were the kind of jokes you two made on a regular basis. You had a brief fling with Matt before they got together just like she did with Jay. So, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to compare notes if you will.

“Hey..why’d you say you made Nittany a vet appointment again?” Sylvie interrupted.

“She’s just been weirdly clingy.” You reminded her, looking over to see her biting her lip, “why?”

“[Y/N]…is there any chance you’re pregnant?” She asked after a beat of silence, getting straight to the point.

“What? No! Of course not. Well I mean..I guess there’s always a chance, but why would you ask that?”

“You seem to be showing a few signs.” She added cautiously.

“Like?” You pushed.

“Like.. this morning you said the smell of Casey’s coffee was making you nauseous.” Brett pointed out.

“And you said you’ve been really tired lately. Plus you even said yourself, your boobs look fuller today for some reason.” Gabby jumped in.

“Food aversion, fatigue, fuller breasts, lower back pain..those are all early signs of pregnancy.” Sylvie gave you a sympathetic look.

“Nah, I had my period like a week and a half ago. You guys are crazy.” You shrugged them off.

“What was it like?” Gabby questioned.

“My period? I don’t know. Came a few days early. It was lighter than usual. Only lasted two or three days which is a day or two shorter than normal, but that happens to me every couple months. My periods are usually just a little worse the month after. I didn’t really study it or pay attention. I got all my normal PMS symptoms though.” You answered as the three of them exchanged glances. “What? Why do you guys keep looking at each other like that.” Your eyes flicked between the women who were clearly exchanging looks.

“It just..it sounds like it could be implantation bleeding?” Gabby offered cautiously.

“Which means?” You pushed for more information.

“It happens when the egg attaches to the wall of your uterus.” She explained further.

“Don’t say your uterus like you’re referring to mine!” You began to panic a little.

“Okay hey calm down. We’re just trying to cover the possibility. You’re on birth control right?” Stella asked.

“Yeah. The pill.” You nodded, “we don’t use condoms though. Didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Well I’m sure you’re fine then, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a test.” Kidd tried to convince you.

“Okay. Yeah. Fine. Can we go to your place? Jay’s at home.” You asked Stella, knowing Matt would be at Gabby’s, Cruz and Otis would be at Sylvie’s, and even if Severide was at Stella’s he would keep any secret that may come out to himself. It was your best option.

“Yeah, absolutely of course.” She nodded.

“Someone tell me this isn’t happening.” You begged leaning against the bathroom sink as the timer ticked along on your phone.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine.” Gabby squeezed your bicep.

“Hey babe, we’re out of beer can you-“ His voice got louder as he walked into the doorway, “what’s going on in here?” He raised an eyebrow looking at each of you huddled tight in the bathroom when his eyes spotted the test laying on the sink, “Oh shit. Stell?” He visibly swallowed nervously, eyes averting to her.

“Not mine.” She reassured her boyfriend.

“Oh cool, carry on then. Just add beer to the shopping list if you could.” Kissing her on the forehead before turning around to walk out just as the ringing from the timer caused you all to jump.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, butterflies filling your stomach as you brought the test eye level.

“Well fuck.” You croaked opening your eyes to confirm the “Pregnant” that was lit up on the screen. “I don’t understand. I’ve been taking my birth control religiously before breakfast.” You thought out loud.

“Well you know it’s never 100%.” Sylvie tried to reason when a particular occasion came to mind.

“Oh shit.” You looked at them horrified.

“I got really sick one morning from something I ate after I took my pill. We had sex later that night. I bet you I threw it up. I wasn’t even thinking. God, I’m such an idiot.” Your head fell into your hands, unable to believe this was happening, “What am I supposed to tell Jay? We haven’t even been together for a year and now I have to tell him we’re going to be parents?”

“Listen [Y/N], Jay is one of the good ones. It’s going to be okay.” Gabby gripped your hands reassuringly.

“And even if it’s not, you have all of us, okay?” Stella added, smiling.

“Hey girl.” You leaned down to pet your german shepherd who greeted you happily at the door.

“Hey baby.” Jay passed through the hall to press a gentle kiss on your lips on the way to your bedroom, “You find anything good?” He asked as you followed behind him.

“Yeah, I did.” You nodded, setting the bag on your bed.

“Oh good you’ll have to model it for me.” He gripped your waist pulling you into him after throwing a sweatshirt on.

“Jay, we need to talk.” You sighed putting distance between the two of you.

“Okay..?” He looked at you skeptically, his posture instantly straightening.

“I cancelled Nittany’s appointment on my way home.” You started.

“Why? Did you not get my message? I told you I could take her if you need.” He pulled his phone out to show you the proof.

“No I did. I just..I think I might know what her deal is.” Jay stayed quiet waiting for you to continue, “I’m pregnant, Jay.” You sighed, willing your body and brain to stay calm. Jay’s eyes widened, blinking a few times.

“You’re..um..okay wow alright.” He cleared his throat before shaking his head seemingly to get his body out of the automatic trance, “aren’t you on birth control?” He cocked his head to the side visibly trying to process the information.

“Well for starters no form of birth control is one hundred percent, but you remember that morning I got really sick from that bagel?” He nodded his head as you continued, “I must’ve thrown it up. I’m so sorry Jay. I wasn’t thinking and I should’ve realized-“Your emotions began to break through your facade voice beginning to break when he stepped towards you taking your face into his hands.

“Hey hey hey don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. We’re both adults. I don’t expect you to take sole responsibility for this honey. We both know the risks. This isn’t on you. You can’t suddenly get pregnant on your own.” He chuckled pulling you into a hug. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll make this work.”

“You’re reacting a lot better than I thought you would.” You admitted head stuffed into his neck.

“Baby I love you,” he promised, pulling back to look into your eyes, “and I want a family with you. This may be a little sooner than we planned, but I’m ready for this.” He smiled, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. “Sooo the dress?” He hinted when he pulled back to get a breath, his forward resting against yours.

“Yeah, okay.” You giggled grabbing the bag, carrying it into the bathroom to get changed.

“Wow.” Jay’s eyes trailed your body when you appeared in the doorway a couple minutes later.

“Like it?” You asked shyly, taking a few more steps towards him.

“Baby girl,” he smirked gripping your hips, “if you weren’t already pregnant you would be by tomorrow.” He joked, kissing along your neck.

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes, “we have to start getting ready.” You glanced at the clock sitting on his nightstand.

“We can be a little late.” He assured you backing you towards the bed. Gabby was right. He was one of the good ones.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3 @wanniiieeee @que-serasara @dedlund82

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda @sofferderynnp @mrspeacem1nusone @chicago-pd-13 @maddi-bug

[lostinthewiind]

Sorry for already requesting again, I’m just slightly obsessed with your writing. Could I request another Poly!Matchablossom where they take care of the reader when they are on their period and in pain? If you want to keep the reader more neutral, I totally understand and would change the request to the reader just generally not feeling well. Thank you in advance!

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Joe & Cherry: Period Pains

A/N: okay so I love this request because I'm single AF and every time I get horrendous cramps during my period I wish I had someone to take care of me, but alas, I just have to curl up in my heated blanket alone :( Anyway, I shall now live vicariously through this fic. If anyone would like a gender neutral fic with the reader just being sick or something, let me know!

Rating: PG13

Warnings: mentions menstrual cramps and general period problems that some of us unfortunate souls have to endure once a goddamn month, mentions nudity, tiny bit spicy 

All things considered, it was shaping up to be a good day. The sun was shining bright, the warm rays peeking through the curtains of the apartment you shared with your boyfriends. Birds were chirping happily outside, waking the city with their beautiful song, and it was the weekend, so you didn’t have to go to work. 

It was going to be a great day . . . well, it would have been a great day if you weren’t currently experiencing some of the worst period cramps of your life. Because of this painful monthly inconvenience, all the things that would normally make you smile were thoroughly pissing you off. 

The sun shining through the crack in the curtains and the chirping birds acted as a taunting reminder that it was morning and that you hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep that night thanks to your uncomfortable cramps and aching body. Sometime during the night, you had been forced to sneak your way out of the bedroom and set up camp on the couch for fear of waking your boyfriends with your constant tossing and turning.

This, however, wasn’t nearly enough to sooth you to sleep. If anything, it only made things worse because you never slept well without Joe and Cherry by your side. So, after popping a couple painkillers and downing a glass of cold water, you resigned yourself to lying awake on the couch for almost the entire night, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to break out into sobs due to pain, frustration, and exhaustion. 

Hearing the bedroom door open, you tilted your head slightly and watched as your boyfriends emerged from the bedroom dawning housecoats on their bodies and happy, sleepy smiles on their faces. At least they were enjoying everything this wonderful Saturday had to offer.

“Good morning,” Cherry greeted you with a quick peck on the forehead as he passed you on the way to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. “You’re up early.”

You winced and squinted as Joe threw the curtains open, flooding the room with blinding light. “That assumes I went to sleep at all,” you scoffed, your eyes slowly adjusting to the sun rays shining directly in your eyes. 

“You haven’t slept?” Joe walked over to the couch, squatted down in front of you, and placed the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

You grimaced and swatted his hand away, knowing deep down that he was only trying to be nice but being bothered nonetheless. “No, my body is trying to rip me apart from the inside out!” You grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, pressed it firmly over your face, and groaned loudly. “I’m in pain!”

Joe and Cherry, who were familiar with how intense your periods could be by now, shared a knowing look from across the apartment. As much as you tried not to, you tended to lash out a little when the cramping kept you from sleeping or doing any of the daily activities you were used to. 

“Cramps?” Joe inquired despite already knowing the answer. When you nodded from underneath the pillow, moving the pillow along with your head movements, Joe placed his large hand on your lower abdomen and pressed down firmly. Then, without hesitation, he began to massage the internal muscles that were causing you such distress. “How’s this?” he checked to see if his actions were helping or hurting.

You sighed, your entire body relaxing into his touch as he massaged away some of the discomfort. “Feels good,” you mumbled, finally lifting the pillow from your face and setting it to the side. “I took medication but it didn’t help at all. It’s really bad this month.”

“Do you want any coffee?” Cherry called softly from the kitchen, pausing after he opened the cabinet until he knew if he needed two or three mugs. 

At the thought of drinking anything that wasn’t water, your stomach turned. “No, thank you.” You shook your head. 

After setting the mugs atop the counter, Cherry shuffled over to the back of the couch and leaned over it to caress your cheek lovingly. “Nauseous?” he asked.

You nodded. “And I have a headache,” you added, “but that could be from lack of sleep or because I haven’t eaten anything in a while . . . or simply because the universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you,” Joe assured you as he moved your legs a little so he could sit on the couch with you before laying your legs across his lap and continuing his massaging. “But even if it does, we love you so it doesn’t matter.”

You chuckled slightly as Cherry returned to the kitchen. “Thanks.” You tried your best to sound sincere but due to your exhaustion-induced monotone voice, you sounded more annoyed than anything. 

“So you spent most of the night out here?” Joe questioned, his rough hands shooing the pain away one skilled movement after another. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “I couldn’t get comfortable and didn’t want to wake you guys. No sense in all three of us not getting any sleep just because I was born with an organ that is infused with the wrath of Satan himself.”

Joe laughed under his breath. “You really do reach new levels of anger during this time of the month,” he commented. “Good thing you don’t take it out on us . . . most of the time.”

“I’m sorry,” you shot him a sheepish look, apologizing for all the times you had treated him and Cherry rudely because of your mood swings and pain. “I don’t mean it.”

Joe noticed the guilty look on your face and immediately felt bad. “I was just kidding, love.” He pulled your close to his body and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “We know you don’t mean it.”

“Good.” You tucked your face into the crook of his neck. 

Removing his hands from your stomach, Joe ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you again. “Do you feel any better?”

“A little,” you forced a small smile. “Thank you.”

Just then, Cherry appeared before the two of you with two mugs of coffee in his hands. After handing one to Joe, he looked down at you with a sympathetic look on his face. “You should eat something, darling,” he told you. 

“I know,” you agreed. “I’m just not hungry.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Cherry lost himself in thought for a few moments while he tried to brainstorm a way to get you feeling good enough to be able to put some food in your body. Then, without saying anything, he turned on his heel, walked away, and disappeared inside the bathroom.

Seconds later, you could hear water running and could smell the faint scent of your favourite bubble bath wafting into the living room. “A warm bath sounds wonderful,” Joe whispered in your ear, catching onto what Cherry’s plan was. “Take a relaxing bath with Kaoru to ease your muscles and by the time you’re done I’ll have breakfast ready. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.” The thought of soaking in hot water was nearly enough to put you to sleep right then and there. “The only way it could be better was if we had a bathtub big enough for the three of us.”

“I agree.” Joe kissed the shell of your ear. “I’ll join you next time.”

“Okay.”

Minutes later, the sound of running water ceased and Cherry emerged from the bathroom. “Come now, beautiful.” He lifted you out of Joe’s arms and into his own, years of skating at S gifting him with muscles that hid beneath his slender frame. “Better get to cooking, Kojiro.” He eyed the other man.

“Okay, damn.” Joe held up his hands in defense as you and Cherry headed for the bathroom. “Let a man take a few sips of coffee first.”

You chuckled lightly, seeing through Cherry’s remark and knowing he did it just to coax a laugh out of you like you did whenever the two bickered about nonsense, which he had achieved. 

“There’s that beautiful laugh,” Cherry commented, smiling at the sight of your amusement. “I wish I could do more to ease your pain but I hope this helps even a little.”

“Of course it will help,” you told him as he set you down and closed the bathroom door behind the two of you to keep the heat inside the room. 

After stripping and setting your clothes to the side, you stepped into the warm bath and let out a relieved sigh like you had when Joe had massaged you. As you sank down into the water and the beautifully scented bubbles surrounded your body, you felt your muscles begin to relax. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you basked in the euphoric feeling of being comfortable for the first time in hours.

“You look content.” Cherry’s voice was soft and quiet, careful not to startle you out of your happy daze. “Can I do anything else?”

“You can join me.” You extended your hand toward him. “Will you? Please?”

Cherry smiled as he too began undressing. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he assured you, and as you slid forward to make room for him, he sank down behind you and the water sloshed against the sides of the tub as the two of you maneuvered into a comfortable position. 

As Cherry wrapped his arms around you from behind, you leaned back into his chest and smiled happily when he rested his chin on top of your head. The two of you stayed like that in complete silence for a while, just enjoying the time you had to spend with each other.

 “We should do this more often.” Cherry spoke after a while, sounding like he was enjoying the bath even more than you were. “I could almost fall asleep like this.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you warned. “I’m so tired.”

“You just close your eyes and relax.” He held you tighter. “I wont let you drown.”

“Promise?” you joked.

Cherry scoffed and rolled his eyes at you. “Yes, I promise.” He dipped his head down and began peppering your cheek, jaw, and neck with kisses, nips, and kitten licks. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want . . . I just want you to feel good.”

“That definitely feels good.” A small moan escaped your lips as you tilted your head to the side to allow your boyfriend easier access to your neck. “Very good.”

Once Cherry’s mouth reached your shoulder, he slid his tongue along your skin as he moved back up to your ear so he could work his way down again. “You know what else would feel good?” You felt him smirk against your flesh, but before he could elaborate, the bathroom door opened and Joe strode in with a spoon of something in his hand. 

Stopping halfway between the door and the tub, Joe narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You know, I’m feeling very left out right now.”

“It’s not always about you.” Cherry scowled, clearly upset about being interrupted. “Ever heard of knocking?“

“I’ve seen you both naked before. Many times. I don’t need to knock.” Joe brushed off Cherry’s concern and approached with the spoon held out toward you. “Does this taste good?”

Now that your nausea had subsided and you were actually beginning to feel hungry, you happily opened your mouth and tasted whatever it was that Joe had created in the kitchen. You didn’t know what it was, but it was some sort of sauce and it was sweet. 

“It’s very good,” you assured him. “But everything you make is good.”

Joe’s face lit up at the compliment. “Not too sweet?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Ahem,” Cherry cleared his throat. “I’m here too, you know. Do I get a taste?”

“It’s not always about you.” Joe threw his own words back at him before smiling sweetly at you. “Breakfast will be ready soon. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but return the smile, feeling much better than you had earlier. 

Before Joe left, he pressed a kiss to your lips and a peck to Cherry’s head as a peace offering to make up for the two’s nattering at one another before. Then, he was gone and the sound of him working in the kitchen filled the apartment.

“What did he feed you?” Cherry questioned, running the tips of his slender fingers up your arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You shrugged. “I have no idea, but it was delicious.”

“Mmm,” Cherry hummed, his mouth quickly finding its way back to your skin and sucking on your shoulder. “You know what else is delicious?”

You giggled when he grazed his teeth across a ticklish spot on your neck. “Breakfast is soon. You aren’t allowed to eat me.”

“But you taste so good, I just want to-”

“Kaoru, could you come help me?” Joe called from the kitchen, almost as if he knew what the two of you were up to and was interrupting again on purpose. 

Cherry’s head fell back and he huffed. “Oh, my God. Is five minutes alone too much to ask?”

Dropping your head back onto Cherry’s shoulder, you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck. “Don’t go. Pretend you didn’t hear him.”

Cherry squinted down at you quizzically. “What’s gotten into you? You’re usually the one encouraging me to be nicer to him.”

“I know . . . but just this once, please?” You batted your eyelashes at him. “If he thinks we didn’t hear him, he’ll come to get you and then we can convince him to let us stay in the bath a little longer. It’s just so warm . . . I don’t want to get out yet.”

“But the food will get cold.”

Your eyes grew as wide as dinner plates at your sudden idea. “Do you think we can eat breakfast in the bath?”

Cherry laughed heartily at that. “Well if you ask Kojiro with the same wondrous expression you just gave me, I don’t think there is any way he could say no. He might even feed you if you say please and kiss that spot behind his ear that he really likes.”

“I hope so.” You felt like you were in heaven with the thought of being fed delicious food in a warm bubble bath. “It’s worth a try, at least.”

“Indeed it is.” Cherry kissed the top of your head, truly happy with how much your mood had lifted in such a short amount of time and proud of himself that he had helped make that happen. 

With your eyes glued to the door, waiting for your other boyfriend to walk back into the bathroom, you exhaled contently. Maybe today was shaping up to be a good day after all. 

[hercleverboy]

the waiting room

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary ↠ the three times Y/N waited for spencer, and the one time he waited for her. (based off of this blurb)

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of death as a result of potential illness, spencer’s headaches, mri scans, swearing,  indefinite ending. 

word count ↠ 2.9k

dedicating this one to two of the literal loves of my life, @voidsfilm + @ellesgreenaway ♡

“What is stronger than the human heart, which shatters over and over and still lives.” — Rupi Kaur

Spencer had always hated hospitals.

He found it so conflicting, how a place could hold so much hope for life and promise for the future, and yet also hold so much heartbreak and despair and agony.

The strong disinfectant smell wasn’t his favourite thing, either. He hated how the bright lights always irritated his eyes, and how the hallways all just looked the same, so bleak and lifeless.

Most of all, he hated the waiting room. 

The navy-blue carpet that lined the floors, wooden chairs that were always, without fail, extremely uncomfortable to sit in. The way that nurses and doctors would walk past the room, eyes full of pity and sorrow. With his job, he’d seen more waiting rooms than he would’ve liked. He spent more time than he wanted to in hospitals, talking to victims’ families, and even sometimes having to witness them receive such heartbreaking news. On one or two occasions, he’d even had to be the bearer of bad news himself, the one who had to tell expectant family that their loved one was gone. It only added to the list of reasons why he despised hospitals.

Then there was the other side of the coin. He took frequent trips to the hospital, but unfortunately more oftenly as a patient than an FBI agent. He wouldn’t say he was reckless, but he didn’t exactly put much value on his life. Or at least, he never used to. He figured it was because he was the only one on the team without a family to come home to, without people who were dependent on him. And so, if it came down to it, he would willing take off his Kevlar vest and put down his weapon while talking down a gun-wielding unsub. Of course, he’d get the third degree from Hotch later, but he could live with that. And then he met Y/N, and he realised that now he had someone counting on him, someone waiting for him to come back home to them, he couldn’t afford to be so careless in the field.

Though sometimes, despite Spencer’s best attempts, things still went wrong. Y/N had seen the inside of the hospital waiting room more than most, often because she’d get called by one of his team mates to alert her that he’d been injured in the field. And without him ever asking, she’d drop everything to be there for him, even if it was his own stupidity that had landed him in those situations. 

The first time was after he’d been shot in the knee. Y/N had been midway through her workday when she’d received a call from JJ telling her that Spencer had been injured. She knew that it was only a leg wound, that he would be absolutely fine, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. She’d been sat in the waiting room, waiting anxiously for a nurse to come by and update her. 

As soon as she got the all clear to see him, she’d breathed out a sigh of relief and made her way to his room,  catching his attention as soon as she entered.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, grimacing slightly at the pain shooting through his leg. “Hi.” 

She chuckled at that, moving to stand at his bedside. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m ok.” He smiled, reaching up to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here, you know.” 

“Oh, stop.” She mumbled with a smile. “You know how much I worry about you.” 

He grinned at that, the warm feeling that he always got when he was with her spreading through him. He used the grip he had on her hand to pull her down to him, so his lips could meet hers in a sweet kiss. “Hotch has demanded I take some time off to rest, or whatever.” He murmured against her lips. “So, I’m all yours.” 

“Hmm, and what you mean by that is that you need someone to take care of you at home for a few days?” 

“Well, I did get shot in the leg, you know. Taking down the bad guy...” He gestured to his bandaged-up knee, a pout on his pretty pink lips. 

She let out a laugh at that, amused. “Alright, Superman. Let’s get you home, shall we?” 

The next time Y/N found herself in the hospital waiting room was a year later, when Spencer had been suffering from painful, unexplainable headaches. 

Initially, Spencer hadn’t wanted her to attend his MRI scan appointment, but it didn’t take much convincing for her to assure him that she wanted to be there for him. He’d held her hand in a vice-like grip on the drive to the hospital, only letting go when the nurse called his name to tell him they were ready for him. She’d kissed the back of his hand before he’d left, a whispered promise leaving her lips before he went, “I’ll be right here waiting.”

She looked around the empty waiting room, took note of its greying walls and stained carpet, and how awfully uncomfortable the chairs were. She thought of anything and everything that could distract her from the way she was feeling at that moment- knowing how scared her boyfriend was that there was something was wrong with him. 

Spencer came back to the waiting room an hour later, both relieved to see that his girl was indeed still waiting for him but frustrated with what little the doctor had told him. 

“Hey!” Y/N sat up straighter, putting on a smile for the sake of her boyfriend. “How’d it go?” 

Spencer just shook his head. “He says there’s nothing physically wrong with me. He suggested I should consider that it’s something more mental, but he’s wrong- he’s wrong, Y/N.” He sat down in the chair next to her, seeking comfort in her arms as he whimpered into the crook of her neck. “I’m not- I’m not crazy, am I?” 

And the truth was, she didn’t know. She was so afraid for him, worried that he was sick, dying, perhaps of something that the doctors hadn’t detected yet. It terrified her. Her hands ran up and down the expanse of his back, attempting to soothe his weeps the best that she could. Spencer grabbed fistfuls of the back of her shirt and breathed in the scent of her hair as deeply as he could to try and ground himself.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” 

That broke her heart to hear, but all she could do was nod in understanding, hoping her words would offer him some form of comfort. “I know, I know. We’ll figure this out, ok? Everything is going to be alright.” 

The next time Y/N inside of a waiting room was on what she could only refer to as the worst night of her life.

There were no words that could encompass the plethora of emotions she went through when she’d received a phone call from JJ, “Spencer has been shot. It’s- It’s pretty bad, Y/N. You need to come quickly.” 

When she got to the waiting room, she saw JJ and Alex sat opposite one another, a worry that made Y/N’s stomach sink on both their faces. She hurried towards them, tears blurring her vision. “Have you had any updates? Is he ok?” 

JJ looked up, shaking her head sadly. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering. 

“He got shot in the neck. He pushed me out of the way.” Alex sighed, as though she was still in disbelief that he’d done that to save her. 

Y/N stared ahead in shock, dropping down into the seat beside Alex. Of course, of course, Spencer would risk his life to protect Alex. Y/N knew how fond he was of his colleague, how he idolised her, saw her as a sort of mother figure, even. 

Eventually JJ got called back to work, with Alex insisting that she’d stay with Y/N and wait for Spencer to wake. 

Y/N was so sick and fucking tired of the waiting room. Before, she hadn’t minded it, it had even bought a sense of comfort to her- because she was in a hospital, where they saved lives. But now? The familiar walls and dull navy-blue carpet made her feel nauseous. Not knowing whether her boyfriend was going to live or die was incomparable to any other time she’d found herself waiting in the same four walls. She was feeling everything and nothing all at once, she wanted to cry and scream, curse the universe for once again hurting a man that had done nothing in his life but protect others. Hell, part of her even wanted to laugh- laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he died, - god, if he died - the world would’ve robbed him of a lifetime with her, the chance to live the life that he deserved.

She barely registered that Alex had left her side to bring her a coffee until she sat back down beside her. Y/N looked over at her, giving her a small smile as she gratefully accepted the coffee. 

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, relishing in how the hot liquid brought her a sense of warmth, and she wondered if she’d ever feel Spencer’s warmth again. She sucked in a shaky breath, speaking the first words she’d said in all the hours they’d been waiting. “You know he wants kids?” 

Alex looked over at her, sad smile tugging at her lips. “I do.” 

Y/N nodded, sniffing. “He’d be a phenomenal father.” 

“He would.” 

Y/N let out a small cry, trying desperately to hold herself together. “What if I never get the chance to give him that, Alex?” She cried, body finally giving in to the painful ache that consumed her entire being. 

Alex placed an arm around her, allowing the younger woman to lean on her shoulder for support. “You’ll get the chance. Spencer is strong, he’ll pull through.”

And sure enough, Alex had been right. When Y/N had been told he was awake, she couldn’t describe the relief that flooded her. After meeting Penelope in the hallway and being given a much-needed hug, she took a few deep breaths before walking into Spencer’s room. When her eyes landed on him, she felt the tears start to well again. She had to remind herself that despite the bandage on his neck and the numerous machines hooked up to him, he was there, and he was alive. 

She came towards him with the best smile she could muster, and he looked up at her with a drowsy smile.

“Hi.” She whispered, standing beside his bed. 

He grinned up at her, reaching out for her hand just like he always did. “Hi.” 

She squeezed his hand gently, reminding herself again that he was ok, though she couldn’t prevent the tears that began to tremble down her cheeks. 

Spencer’s heart throbbed at the sight, and he allowed himself to imagine the pain she must’ve been through, having to wait for hours to see if he was alive. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the woman he loved more than anything else. “It’s alright, sweet girl. I’m alright.” He promised, wishing more than anything that he could pull her into his arms and soothe her, though the pain in his neck prevented him from doing so. 

“I could’ve lost you.” She whimpered, her other hand coming out to delicately trace the side of his face. 

“I’m right here.” He gave her hand three squeezes just to emphasise his point. 

She leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “You can’t ever scare me like that again.” 

Spencer chuckled lowly, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Promise me?” 

And though it was a promise they both knew he couldn’t keep, he granted her the reassurance that she craved. 

“I promise.” 

Y/N knew that wasn’t the last time she’d be sat in the waiting room, scared and anxious and hoping that the love of her life was ok. She knew there would always be a ‘next time’, no matter how many self-serving promises she asked Spencer to make. What she didn’t plan for, was that the next time she saw the inside of a hospital, it would be her fighting for her life. 

It had been a slow day at work for Spencer, with him managing to complete a majority of his withstanding paperwork. He sat at his desk, focused on how he twirled his pen between his fingertips, willing the clock to move faster so he could go back home when his phone rang, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen. 

He answered eagerly, though all eagerness was wiped away when it wasn’t her voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hi there, I’m looking for a Dr Spencer Reid?” 

Spencer’s mind raced, and he swallowed thickly before squeaking out an answer. “That’s me.” 

“I’m calling on behalf of Y/N Y/L/N, you’re registered as her emergency contact.” 

“Is she ok?” He croaked out, begging and pleading internally that all the worst-case scenario’s running through his head wouldn’t come to fruition. 

“She was involved in a severe road collision. You’re going to want to come down here-”

Everything past that was drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s heart beating quicker, so loudly he could hear it. He hung up, gathering his things together as quickly as he could and rushing toward the doors of the bullpen- running directly into one Derek Morgan. 

“Woah, easy there, kid. You got somewhere to be?” He joked at first, but erased all hints of a smile from his face when he saw the tears filling the younger man’s eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

Spencer couldn’t form a sentence, only managing to splutter out a few barely strung together words. “It’s Y/N, she’s- she’s been in an a-accident and I need, I have to get to her.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened, nodding in understanding. “Alright, ok. You’re in no condition to be driving, let me take you.” 

Spencer wasn’t about to argue, already making his way toward the elevator. 

*

Spencer had always hated hospitals. 

But he’d also decided that he really fucking hated the waiting room. 

The doctors didn’t have any updates for him, no matter how many times he asked. So, he’d been forced to sit in that damned room and wait. 

He thought of how cruel the concept of the waiting room was. Waiting for either good or bad news, waiting to hear the words that would either fill him with relief or dread, signify the start of his life or the end. How cruel was it that people had to sit and wait, with the weight of the world on their shoulders and just hope their loved one was ok? 

With the first hour brought Spencer’s upset, tears trembling down rosy cheeks and whimpered words of disbelief that he could lose the woman he loved. He’d sat in the uncomfortable blue chair with his head in his hands as sobs wrecked through his body, with Morgan sat next to him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The second hour brought with it a slither of hope, as a doctor came out to update them. Though it wasn’t good nor bad news, just that Y/N was still in surgery and was expected to be so for the next few hours. Spencer had again buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing. The rest of the team arrived, joining the sombre atmosphere of the waiting room. 

The third hour saw Spencer grow agitated, angry with himself for not being with her, for not protecting her, despite how many times the team attempted to reassure him that there was nothing he could’ve done differently. They brought him cups of coffee with gentle reassurances, empty promises that Y/N would be fine, that she would pull through, but how could they possibly know that? 

In the fourth hour, Spencer sat staring blankly at the wall. He reminded himself of the future he’d dreamt of time and time again, and how he couldn’t imagine himself having that life with anyone else but her. He recalled the location of the velvet purple box he’d bought just a few months prior, hidden amongst pairs of his mismatched socks in the second drawer of his nightstand. What if he never got the chance to propose? To give her the life that he’d promised her time and time again when it was 3am and he was holding the love his life as close to his chest as he could get her. After all he’d done, the years of his life he’d given to helping to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, this was the thanks he got? What a sick twist of fate that was. 

By the fifth hour, he was exhausted. His eyes drooped but he fought to keep them open, choosing to ignore the pitiful looks JJ shot him when she saw him fighting sleep. He would wait for her, just like all the times she had waited for him. He recognised how the way that he felt must’ve been how Y/N had felt after he’d been shot the year before, and the thought almost made him sick. He ran over all the possible outcomes in his head, allowing his eyes to close for a single moment as he mentally calculated the statistical probabilities of each outcome. He despised how helpless he felt. For a man whose job was to help others in need, he’d never been a position before where he didn’t have the answer, where he couldn’t come up with a solution. His heart ached as the realisation that he could very well lose her settled over him, the statistic he’d calculated of her survival being a number that was way too low for Spencer’s liking. 

For the moment, he had no choice but to wait. 

It was all he could do. 

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @thelovelyrose​ @averyhotchner​ @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​ @reidyoulikeabook​ @katexrichardson​ @jemimah-b99​ @muffin-cup​ @shadyladyperfection​ @rigatonireid​ @amoeebaa​ @mggsprettygirl​  @alltooreid​ @s1utformgg @awritingtree

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[aubreyprc]

safe in these arms of mine

prompt - you’re safe . i’m here

summary - emily gets taken by their recent unsub, someone they named the three day killer. they know they have three days to find her, aaron refuses to let them get to four.

word count - 3.3k

TW / mentions of torture (not graphic), alluded / implied hint of SA (not graphic or mentioned)

He thinks he’s probably watched the CCTV footage more times than he’s ever watched anything, rewinding certain moments in hopes of something that will give them a clue, something that will tell them where she is. who he is. anything.

Watching her drop to the ground, even after seeing it hundreds of times, still makes his heart fall into his stomach, the sight of the man picking her up over his shoulders, carrying her like she was dead weight. like she was nothing still making him feel sick, still making him feel guilty. not that he could ever tell anyone why. Not that he can really act on how terrified he is.

To everyone else’s knowledge, they’re colleagues, friends, just like he is with the rest of the team. He can be worried, they’re all worried, all scared of what could happen, all nauseous at the idea of what she could be going through, but he can’t be anything more. Because to everyone else’s knowledge, they're just friends but in reality, behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, FBI policy’s and fraternization rules, they’re something. They’re more than something.

What started off as casual, turned into coffee and coffee soon turned into dinner, dinner soon turned into staying the night and four months later in the darkness of her bedroom, his fingers tracing patterns on her spine as she lay in his arms, the three words slipped out of his mouth… and ten seconds later she repeated them, a soft smile on her face. a smile he has never forgotten.

A smile he would kill to see again.

They’re eight months in now, getting to the point where keeping them a secret was becoming impossible, Jack far too young and unpredictable to not blurt out something that would cause the penny to drop.

As he watches the footage for the millionth time, the guilt is almost overwhelming, his palms cut to pieces from how harsh he is clenching a fist. He knows if they don’t find her, that if day three comes and they still don’t have a location, that he’d never forgive himself, he wouldn’t know how to. He wouldn’t want to.

He was supposed to be with her.

Jack was with a friend, and they’d had plans to stay at her apartment, order take out and just be without a four year old demanding their attention for most of the night. But they’d argued. A stupid argument. So stupid that he can’t even remember what started it, or what it was even about. All he remembers is her bitter laugh before she walked out of his office, all but slamming the door behind her as she walked back into the bullpen and grabbed her stuff, he remembers watching her go, remembers telling himself that he’d call her when he got home, or maybe he would go over, make it up to her.

He prays he still gets the chance to. Prays that the last memory he has of her… of them… won’t be her walking away from him in anger. That their last conversation won’t be something he can’t even remember.

“You’re going to drive yourself insane if you keep watching that.” Dave tells him as he walks into the office, “it won’t bring her back. It won’t give you any more information.”

Aaron remains silent, his eyes peeled on the screen, her facing in the direction of the unsub, her face in full view of the camera.

“Reid has something on the unsub…” he says, but Aaron can’t bring himself to hear it. “I know this is hard but—”

“You don’t know.” he says, turning to face his friend, “you don’t know.” he repeats and the older man nods.

“You’re right. I don’t.” he accepts, before staring at him, “but I know you love her.” he says and Aaron’s eyes widen, “and I know she loves you. And I know she’s counting on us.. on you to focus, to put our feelings and our fear on hold and find her.”

“I can’t even think about what she could be going—”

“Then don’t.” he tells him, “don’t think. Help her. Help her by doing what you can. Here. Now.”

Aaron nods, standing and following the man out of the office and into the briefing room.

They all refuse to go home, refuse to waste time when she has so little of it, refuse to do anything but find her, the thought of what she could be going through knocking every single one of them sick.

The entire building feels eerie, everyone on egg shells around the team, scared to say the wrong thing, scared to say anything. Everyone loved Emily, and her absence noticeable at any time, and so the entire situation has the bullpen in silence, the only sound being the muttering of the agents on the case as they work alongside the team to find their missing member. Their missing friend.

They all know what this unsub does, have all read the case files, seen the pictures of the women he’d taken and killed over the last few weeks, have heard in detail what he does to them before hand, and it becomes the elephant in the room, every single person knowing exactly what Emily was going through, knowing far too much about what could happen if they don’t find her, but no one ever says anything, no one comments, no one even brings it up, because they can’t. The knowing itself is enough, they shouldn’t have to talk about it too.

Aaron is the only one who tortures himself by looking at the other cases, reading over what they went through before he killed them, how he killed them, and what he did to them afterwards. It’s the same every time, the same marks and bruises on each woman they found, all killed the same way around the same time and all found in the same place, beaten, bloody and cold, all with signs of a struggle, as if he’d toyed with them, given them to opportunity to fight him off… each woman died in pain, alone and scared, and the idea that Emily might go through that, the fact that he could be doing to her what he did to all the others makes him nauseous, it makes him murderous but mostly it just makes him want to scream, cry, shout, and he can do neither, not yet, not when he still has the chance to get her back. Not when there’s hope that he can save her.

And he will. He has to. Loosing her is not an option.

“Stop.” Morgan says as he enters his office, “reading the files won’t change this. If anything it will just make it worse.”

“There could—”

“Reid has the files memorised…” he says, “there’s nothing in there.”

He closes the file, rubbing a hand over his face as he leans on the chair.

“How is he this hidden?” he asks, “we’ve been trying to find him for three weeks and all we have is that he’s male, in his thirties and…” he stops, shaking his head as he thinks about what he does to the women he takes.

“I know.” he nods, “but we’ll find him.”

“Will we find him in time?” he asks, the silence between them lingering as the other man remains without an answer.

“We can only try.” he tells him, “and trust that she’s strong enough to wait until we do.” he says softly, before leaving the office.

He sighs as he opens his draw, grabbing his wallet before pulling out a picture he hides behind one of Jack, a picture Penelope took just a few weeks ago when she just had to capture the moment as she stated on the email she forwarded the picture on. He smiles every time he looks at it, her grin sending warmth through him as he looks at it, the blissful happiness on their faces as they sit in their own bubble, his own smile on his face as he looks at her. He rubs a thumb over it, his heart aching in his chest as he swallows.

I’ll find you.

And they do. On day three.

They speed through the traffic, each of them tense with anxiety as they sit in the SUV, neither knowing what they’re going to walk into. If they’ll make it on time.

The warehouse is huge, the smell of blood, sweat and death hits them as soon as their in, each going in a different direction as they search for her. For him. For anything.

Aaron hears them before he sees them, leans against the wall as he calculates what his next move should be, signals for the team to head in his direction as he tries to block out the sound of her choking, dreads to think what he’s going to be met with when he turns the corner.

Reid and Morgan head his way first, are on the other side of the building when he spots them, and on his nod, all three man make themselves known, turning the corner with their guns out, but all can see is her. The way the only reason she is still standing being due to her arms being hung above her, her head lulled to the ground, no movement, not even a groan and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt panic like it before.

He has no intention to chase the man when he runs, grateful that the other two take off in a sprint after him, and he heads towards her.

He stands in front of her, heart hammering in his chest as terror fills his body and slowly cups her face, moving her head up to look at him and when he’s met with her tired, but open eyes, the relief that fills him is enough to make him want to cry. But the fear in her eyes, the sheer terror that stares back at him has him pushing it away, his focus on her.

“You’re okay.” he whispers, quickly freeing her hands from the chains above her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he does, catching her as she all but falls into him, a soft cry leaving her throat as her arms drop, the only reason she doesn’t being that he has her, wraps her protectively into him and all she can do is look at him, shock, exhaustion, pain, terror and everything in between meaning it takes her a few moments to register what’s going on, to register that it’s Aaron but it’s obvious the moment she does. The look of terror turning into relief as she relaxes, letting him pull her into his arms and she goes willingly into them, her face in his chest as she breathes, tears threatening to fall down her face as she allows the last few days to process. There’s a bang from the other side of the room that causes her to flinch, to tense in fear and he runs a hand down her back.

“It’s okay..” his voice is soft, soothing and he smiles at her when she lifts her head to look at him. “You’re okay. It’s over.”

“Can we get out of here?” she asks, her voice dry and rough, a hint that she’s been without water for days and he nods.

“Of course.” he says, gently wrapping an arm around her waist as he helps her walk out of the room.

She gets the all clear from the hospital and is free to go that night, her ribs bruised but not broken, her arms strained but no damage to the ligaments, a concussion she might feel for a few days, but no bleed, no damage, is told she’s lucky, and she wants to scream, feeling anything but luck as she sits in the passenger seat, her mind replaying the last three days on a loop, the man’s face, voice, touch lingering with her, can feel his hands on her skin, can hear his voice as he toys with her, can see his face so clearly he might as well he sat next to her but she’s lucky, because he didn’t break her ribs, she’s lucky because he didn’t kill her, how does she explain that she wishes he did?

Aaron walks them up to her apartment, his hand around her waist as she uses him to hold herself up, a lump in the back of her throat as she tries to pretend as though she hasn’t spent the last three days tortured, laughed at, broken.

“I’ll go and run you a bath,” he says softly as he enters her apartment, she simply stands, her hand clinging to her throbbing ribs as she nods. “Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she says with a tired smile, “I’m good. Tired.”

“Would you prefer a shower—”

“No,” she says quickly, before smiling as best she can, “A bath would be great.” she nods and he smiles, slowly walking over to her and waiting for her to lean into him before wrapping an arm around her waist, helping her up the stairs as she winces in pain. He’d do anything to take it from her. For it to have been him instead.

-

He sits on the floor next to the bath at her request, stroking gentle patterns onto her hand as she stares ahead and he waits, knowing she has to be the one to talk first, knowing he can’t rush this.

“The last woman you found… she couldn’t have been older than twenty.” she says, her eyes still staring ahead of her.

“Yeah..” he whispers, “found her just before we…” he stops, “you saw her?”

“He killed her right in front of me…” she says, turning to look at him, “she was begging me to help her, I could hear her crying but…” she stops, looks away from him.

“There’s nothing you could have done, Em.” he tells her, “you know that. It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t answer, simply continues to stare at the wall ahead. He wants to ask, he needs to, but he doesn’t know how. Isn’t sure he wants to know. He’ll have to read the police report anyway, sign off on her being back on duty in a few weeks and he wonders if that might be easier. To read it rather than hear it, but he also knows he needs to hear it from her, needs to let her be the one to tell him, tell him what, he isn’t sure.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he asks her gently, smiling softly when she turns to face him, “I’m not leaving,” he tells her, “but if you want some space tonight, if you want some time to work through this, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She smiles slightly, linking their fingers together as they rest on the side of the bath and she slowly shakes her head.

“I don’t want to be alone.” she whispers, and he nods.

“I’m here,” he tells her. “Whenever you’re ready to talk… I’m here.”

“I know.” she says, “I’m exhausted.”

“Come on.” he says, getting to his feet with a groan that makes her laugh slightly, before he helps her up, wrapping her in a towel before walking them towards the bed. He hands her an old jumper, one that nine months ago, used to belong to him, and a pair of joggers, kissing her head slightly.

“I’ll grab some water, I’ll be right back.” he tells her and she nods, watches him go as she takes a deep breath, focuses on getting into the clothes rather than the silence, rather than the memories of the last few days.

By the time he’s back she’s already in bed, her eyes staring at a spot of the wall across the room as she curls into the duvet and his heart breaks when the creek of the floor makes her jump.

He places the water on her bedside table, runs a gentle finger across her cheek as he passes her and gets himself in bed, turns to face her when she rolls over, taking her hand gently when she rests it on his chest, smiling when he links their fingers.

“Derek said you kept reading the other women’s files.” she says softly, he looks at her and nods. “He pretty much stuck to the script.” she tells him, looking from him to their hands. “I wish you didn’t read them.” she whispers, tracing his fingers with her own.

“When your ready to tell me, I’ll listen.” he says, “I’ll wait for you to tell me.”

“You’ll read the report before—”

“I’ll wait for you to tell me.” he whispers; she nods.

“Okay.” she whispers, “thank you.”

“Get some rest,” he tells her, “I’m right here.”

She smiles before she leans up to kiss him, wrapping herself around him as she inhales, the scent of him calming her, the feeling of safely taking ahold of her as she sighs, closing her eyes.

“I love you.” she whispers as he kisses her head and he smiles.

“I love you too.” he tells her, and waits until shes asleep before allowing himself to fall asleep too.

It’s barley been three hours when her scream jolts him awake. He sits up instantly, terror taking over as he registers what woke him and he turns, slowly reaching out to cup her face as she cries in her sleep, completely taken over by a nightmare, by a memory, by fear.

“Emily,” he whispers, trying to wake her carefully. “Em, sweetheart. Wake up.” he says a little louder, tapping her face gently as she gasps, her eyes opening instantly and she sits up, hyperventilating as she cries, a hand on her chest as she struggles to breathe and he holds her.

“You’re okay.” he whispers, “just breathe. It’s okay.” he soothes, a gentle hand on her back. Her breathing evens out pretty quickly but her tears do not, her entire body shaking with fear as he holds her close.

“You’re safe now,” he tells her, lifting her face to wipe her tears as she looks at him. “I’m here.” he says, “You’re safe.”

He slowly lays them back down, wrapping his arms around her when she clings onto him, resting herself in his arms.

“I love you.” she mutters as she slowly breathes, allowing herself to succumb to sleep.

“I love you too.” he whispers. “You’re safe. I’m here.” he repeats, hoping it soothes her, hoping she feels safe with him.

It’s obvious she does when she doesn’t wake until late that next afternoon and goes searching for him as soon as she realises he’s not next to her.

She finds him on the couch and heads towards him, smiling as she sits next to him and rests her head on his chest, relaxing the minute his arms wrap around her.

“You weren’t in bed.” she mumbles as she closes her eyes.

“I’m right here.” he whispers, “I’ll always be here.” he promises, and he smiles when she mumbles a small I know, before falling back into a dreamless sleep.

[starsstruck]

strange phenomena; part two.

what happens when we meet again? you and harry have barely seen each other in almost a year. two ex-lovers find themselves in the same snowy town by strange chance, both looking for something they can’t seem to figure out. forgotten letters, painful memories, and heart stopping reunions.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, a lot of crying, sexual content words: 15.8k

series masterlist

an: hello. thank you for being patient with me <3 i am excited (and slightly nervous) to share the second part of my little story with you <3 i hope everyone enjoys, happy reading and please do share and let me know what you think ! it truly means the world to me. happy reading <3

You couldn’t remember the walk away from Harry’s.

Stumbling through the snow, not caring as the cold air nipped at your ears and left your lips chapped. All you could think about was the look on Harry’s face when you’d told him that you were leaving, the way his shoulders dropped and his brow furrowed.

You could still feel the imprint of his mouth on yours, the way it fit so smoothly over your own and was always inviting you in for more. You could feel the weight of his hands over your waist, fingertips that gripped into your skin even through the thickness of your sweater.

Even the light tickling of his hair that had brushed over your forehead could still be felt.

Just living in the same space as him for barely an entire day, you felt full of him. His smell lingered on your clothes, the weight of his hold around you when you slept, and most glaringly the locket resting against your chest felt like it was burning your skin.

And the worst part of it all was that it made you miss him. It made you ache for him in a way that you hadn’t let yourself ache.

You hadn’t let yourself feel this much since the initial break up, and now you were fighting back tears as you stormed down the hill so quickly, you felt like you were falling instead of walking.

Tears, that you apparently were not doing that good a job at holding back because soon your vision was blurring and you realized that a trail of tears were in fact freely falling from your eyes. Wiping the back of your hand over your cheeks, you bowed your head down as you walked.

You heard your name softly murmured from behind the closed door.

Rolling your head on the pillow, you felt a small pool of tears fall from your eyes and onto the fabric.

You were crying without even realizing it now.

Hearing your name called again, a bit louder this time followed by the little rattle of knuckles over the wooden door.

Sighing quietly, you threw the heavy comforter off your body and it seemed to take all your strength, but you lifted yourself from the mattress and stood to your feet.

Wiping at your face with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, you hoped that your distress wasn’t physically apparent, although you were sure that there was no way of properly hiding it.

“Morning,” your friend, and temporary roommate, greeted you with a tentative smile. You tried your best to return her cheeriness, but doubted that you even managed to lift the corners of your mouth. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Perfect,” you’d attempted a lightness to your voice, but instead it sounded hoarse, like you’d been crying all night.

Following Molly out to her kitchen, you took a seat over one of the creaky chairs and silently watched her pour you a cup, letting you add what you wanted to it for your liking. She poured herself a cup as well, turning to face you with a quiet pause. “Did you want something to eat?”

You smiled at her from over the rim of your mug. “I’m okay.”

“Okay…” she murmured quietly, taking a seat next to you. A small silence filled the air once more – you could practically hear her thinking about what to ask you.

“How are you feeling?”

Her voice came out quietly, a calmness as she watched you stare at the steam rise from your mug. You didn’t know how to answer her without crying.

“I’m doing fine,” you managed to get out, voice a tad stronger now that your throat was no longer dry.

Molly sighed your name softly, knowing you well enough to know you were lying through your teeth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It. The breakup. Your breakup. You were single again – you had lost your partner, your lover, your other half. It had been nearly thirty-six hours, and you felt as if you hadn’t spent a single minute of that time without crying.

Tears were pricking at your dry eyes. Letting out a shaky sigh, you tried your best to hold off the tears when you spoke. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to say.”

Your voice was wavering by the end of your sentence. Your eyes were sure to be bloodshot, and with the way Molly was looking at you, you didn’t try to hold it off any longer.

Her voice was so kind, so soft, like she was talking to a wounded animal, which perhaps she was. “What happened?”

“I – I broke up with him,” your voice rasped, looking over at your caring friend with watery eyes. Your mouth gapped open, like you were about to say something else but didn’t know what to say. You didn’t really know anything, it seemed.

“I didn’t know,” you could tell Molly was searching for the best things to say to you, but was coming up short as you didn’t give her much to work with. She moved her chair closer to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I didn’t realize that things weren’t working out.”

“They were,” your voice shook, taking in a heavy breath as your tears started to fall when you spoke. “They were working.”

You fell into your friend’s arms, letting sobs shake through your body. She was quiet as you kept speaking, “There was this thing – a rough patch, I don’t know,” your voice sounded unlike your own. “We were talking, and then suddenly I was telling him we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

Molly’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “Is that what you want?”

You shook in her grasp, trying your best to even out your breathing as suddenly you were completely sobbing once again. “No – it was just – I thought we were maybe going to take some time apart, not like this.”

“But he just let me break up with him.”

Turning your head, you blinked rapidly while wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. Opening your mouth to speak once more, you needed to take a deep breath before being able to do so.

Your friend murmured your name quietly, smoothing her hand over your arm in soothing motions.

“I know I hurt him,” you continued quietly, unable to wipe the look on Harry’s face out of your mind. “And I can’t stop thinking that maybe he didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

The tears were back, quiet this time. Not breath-halting sobs but instead a silent stream down your cheeks. “And I don’t know what to do –”

You fell back into the embrace of your friend, quietly crying into the sleeve of her shirt as she hugged you. “I – I’m in love with him,” you muttered, voice sounding so unbelievably broken. “I’m in love with him and I don’t know how to stop.”

She held you close, soft circles of her hand over your shoulder while you cried. You’d never thought of yourself as someone who wouldn’t be able to live without someone else, as someone who needed and depended on anyone other than themselves.

But now you found yourself unable to say three words without completely breaking down in your sorrow.

You sat in that café, simply staring out the window.

Everything was spread out in front of you, just as it had been the other day.

Though you barely picked up your pen, and instead watched the thin flakes fall to cover the ground with a fresh layer of snow. It was calming, compared to the nonstop flurry of thoughts that hadn’t left your head.

You couldn’t even drink the coffee you had ordered, it was making you nauseous.

Everything was making you nauseous.

Everything was coming back, and you felt like you couldn’t even speak. As if when you’d open your mouth, you’d throw up all your pain. Or would break down in hideous sobs. Neither sounded great.

You kept replaying everything that had happened in your head – everything Harry had said to you and everything you had not said.

He’d told you everything you wanted to hear all those months ago, he was fighting for you, which was all you’d wanted in the first place.

But you didn’t know why it made you sad.

Everything was coming back up, everything you tried your best to forget.

Everything that you’d managed to distract yourself into forgetting. You were good at that, and just a month ago you felt okay, you felt like maybe everything was going to be okay. But all of that was forgotten now.

And the worst of it all was that you felt guilty. You felt bad for being the one to pull away first, for being the one to utter the words “maybe we shouldn’t be together”, to be the one to reject him twenty-four hours ago.

You were still at work, as far as Harry knew. He had no doubt it was the case, your overtime hours seeming to grow longer and longer with every passing day.

He felt like he was angrier about if than you were – hating to see the way you were treated and taken advantage at your office, and the way you seemed to be unable to say no to every single thing that was demanded of you.

He knew you were stubborn, he admired your tenacity although he could see it taking a toll on you.

And he felt like he was going crazy. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could feel you slipping away from right between his fingers.

There had been times like this – every relationship had them. Especially with the two of you, both with busy schedules and long periods apart.

Ever since coming back to reality, ever since you’d both returned from your extended vacation in the little French town, you were suddenly pulling away. Throwing yourself back into work, catching up on missed time.

And he knew he wasn’t blameless, the stress of trying to complete his album catching right back up to him. He knew that a partnership took work, the work of both people involved. He also knew he always threw way more of himself into relationships than his partners, but he needed you. He needed you to meet him halfway.

But a strange thing happened, a subconscious reaction to the overwhelming stress that seemed to wrap around the two of you. He was pulling away just as much – there were missed calls and unanswered texts on both ends.

He hadn’t meant to, and he knew, he hoped, that you hadn’t either. You two were serious, honest discussions of spending the rest of your lives together weren’t conversations either of you feared anymore.

Though that stress manifested into fear, and that fear took over both your systems.

Harry’s little rented apartment felt empty.

Now that you had occupied it, now that you’d touched it, eaten in it, slept in it – he could see you everywhere.

There was a dull pain in his chest, in his whole body actually but it seemed to be coming straight from his heart. Dragging his feet along the floor, he ignored the still hot coffee on the counter and fell back into bed.

Bed, where you had been lying not an hour ago. That still smelt faintly of you – where you had spent the night close against his body.

He needed to clean the sheets.

The feeling of your mouth was burned into his skin, your quiet breaths of his name going through his head like a melody he couldn’t forget.

He did what he always seemed to do when he was so incredibly upset over you. He found the flurry of words written about you, page after page of love letters and notes that he’d always thought that maybe one day, he’d send to you.

But he of course never did.

He checked the time for the thirtieth time that minute. He watched the numbers on his phone change. 9:53.

You said that you were going to be at his around ten. And he knew you well enough to know that you were going to be slightly late, just as you always were to things you were nervous about. Still, he checked the time again. 9:54.

The odd ten-something minutes that past were excruciating, but soon he heard the small rattle of a knock at his door. You’d obviously known how to get your way through the security, but the fact that you had to knock when not a over a week ago you were easily letting yourself into his place, into your place – your home – that fact made him unbelievably sad.

He jumped to the door.

Your eyes were wide when he opened the door, your lips slightly parted as if you were about to speak but you never did.

You had spent far too long deciding what to wear, knowing you needed to look good without trying too hard but also, that Harry knew you well enough to know when you were trying too hard.

The hoodie you had on suddenly felt like a bad idea, the same hoodie that was soft and warm and that he would frequently borrow.

“Hi,” he sounded breathless. He thought you looked as beautiful as always, his heart might as well have skipped a beat when he saw you.

You avoided his gaze, watching his feet step aside so that you could walk past him and into the home. You returned his greeting in a quiet “hello”, and you waited anxiously by the door while Harry shut it behind you.

This was it. This was the moment. This could possibly either be the last time you’d see him or the moment that you may reconcile.

“Everything’s where you left it…” Harry started, unsure of how to begin the conversation. He wanted to pull you into his arms, it felt unnatural to stand so far apart, to stand so frigidly with the other. He wanted to kiss you and tell you he loved you, that he didn’t want to be without you. But he didn’t know how when you’d told him that the two of you should break up barely a week ago.

“Okay,” you were nearly whispering. You were afraid you’d start to cry if you spoke too much – if you looked at him a moment too long.

He watched you turn your back to him, following the all too familiar path through the home and up to your room. To his room.

It was bound to be uncomfortable, to be messy. A breakup after over two years of being together, of living together. But he watched, he watched quietly as you rifled through your things and grabbed what was yours. He watched as you took moments too long staring at worn teeshirts – likely trying to remember who they originally belonged to.

The two of you remained fairly quiet through the entire process, quiet murmuring of asking where things had gone or of needs for help.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to scream at Harry and tell him to take you back, tell him that you never wanted this and that you couldn’t stand to be without him.

You wanted to scream at yourself for even getting yourself into this situation in the first place.

But instead, you stood on opposite sides of a room you once shared.

Harry couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t even realized that he was speaking aloud, but suddenly he was talking to you from across the room saying, “I’ve really missed you.”

You froze. You had nearly not heard him. Turning in your spot, you met his gaze with a shaky breath, and an attempt at a lightness to your tone. “Hasn’t been that long.”

“Feels long,” he murmured, mindlessly fiddling with a shirt lying on the bed.

He hated himself for the way he quieted, instead of shouting a declaration of love before he lost the opportunity.

“I know,” you were just as quiet. “It feels…” you trailed off, and Harry thought you were never going to finish the thought before your whispered to the ground. “Doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, taking a seat on the bed as you hugged your knees to your chest. A small throbbing of a headache was starting to form, the stress of the day easily getting to you. Packing was already one of you least desired things to do, and packing up your things from your ex’s place? A place which you once shared? You were sure the headache would only grow.

You had been at his for a couple hours by this point, and this was now the most you’ve spoken.

You felt the mattress sink next to you, and when you peeked a glance you saw Harry sitting just a few inches away. His pose was tentative, as if he wanted to touch you, to wrap is arms around you but realized he couldn’t do that anymore.

The tears were inevitable. As soon as you even thought about not crying, it felt as if the prickling over your eyes grew and you needed to bow your head further, resting your forehead over your knees.

This time Harry didn’t hesitate.

Extending his arm out, he wrapped it around your shoulders and pulled himself closer to you until your sides were pressed together. You didn’t protest, rather welcomed his touch and leant into his body.

He was just as warm, smelt just the same – as if those things would change in a mere seven days.

“It doesn’t feel right without you,” Harry slowly bore his heart, voice shaking with a deep breath.

His words sent a new shudder down your spine. “I know,” you choked out a sob, refusing to look up at him, “I don’t know what to do –”

You were going through one of the many planed speeches you’d made, about telling him that this could be written up as a simple little break and nothing more, but it was coming out all wrong.

“I’m here,” was all he said, voice earnest.

You dared to raise your head, to look up at him. You felt the messy wet patches against your cheeks, the spill of tears making themselves known as your glossy eyes met his. He nearly shared your expression, as you noticed his bloodshot eyes and wet eyelashes.

Neither of you spoke.

After a moment, Harry raised his hand that wasn’t holding you close to lightly cup over your cheek, to wipe away the tears that graced your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Again, you leant into his touch and in fact fell into his embrace.

It felt good to hold each other again.

You swore you didn’t do it on purpose, but when you spoke again you hadn’t realized you were leaning in closer to him until his breath brushed over the top of your lip.

“This past week, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” your voice was at a whisper, cracking lightly in your emotional state.

Harry’s words whispered across your skin. “I’m here. You always have me.”

You were closing the gap between your lips, mouth brushing his when you voiced a plain and simple: “Love you.”

Lips touched, a hard kiss that felt like it would bruise your mouths, built up in the sheer intensity of the moment. You breathed each other in, relaxing against the others touch while the tears got wiped away in your close embrace. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop either.”

He returned your affection, whispering that he “can’t imagine not loving you” and the two of you held onto the quiet hope that maybe things weren’t over.

But it was a quiet hope – one that was never really brought out from your hearts and into the air.

What you thought could be a kiss to start something new, a beginning, turned out to be a goodbye kiss.

You sat like that for a while, not speaking, holding onto each other.

After a while, you didn’t know how long but your feet were starting to numb from the way you were sitting, and you both stood and quietly brought your things out to your car.

Neither said a single word about the kiss, or the shared feelings of love.

You left with an awkward wave, wanting to hug him and hold him but when he took a step away from you at the door you found yourself doing the same.

You left thinking, hoping, that maybe this wasn’t the end. Hoping that he must know you well enough to know what your quiet confessions meant.

But he never reached out. And neither did you. You both avoided any social situation in which you might see the other, you both buried yourself in work and distracted yourselves with anything you could.

Harry didn’t want to be in his space alone, a space that once you shared with him. A space that you had just left for what he’d soon learn to be the last time for a long while.

He felt as if he was floating through the space, watching himself from a distant plane as he wandered back into his room.

There was still the indent in the duvet from where you had sat, still the small piles of clothes splayed out that you had left untouched. He felt as if he shouldn’t even sleep in this room tonight.

His eyes fell to the nightstand, where a little gold ring sat. It was yours; it was sitting out in plain sight – there was no way you had missed it.

You’d never admit it, at least not for the time being but you did it on purpose. The small things you left behind, you wanted Harry to have them. Whether he’d stare at them ever night, or throw them into a fire or shove them under his bed, you didn’t care. You needed pieces of you to remain with him.

He picked up the ring, lightly examining it before trying it on a few of his fingers. It fit perfectly over his ring finger – he didn’t dwell of the irony of that fact.

He didn’t even realize he had pulled out his notebook until his pens was messily scribbling over the paper. Tearing out a page, he started over, and over, as if he needed to refine the perfect letter for you.

Words of love, of anger, repeating over and over again.

“I wish I could tell you this. I miss you dearly.”

Months went by and the stack of half-written letters only grew.

He’d slip them inside of his notebooks, carrying them around with him. He’d put them with certain memories of you, days where he wrote about nothing but his love for you.

Those slips of worn paper even found themselves back in France with him, when he on a whim decided that he should return. Harry knew it was a desperate attempt to feel closer to you, and as luck, or fate, or whoever would have it, he found you there too.

Harry wondered if you’d left Annecy by now. You’d never said how long you were here for, and he couldn’t imagine you sticking along for long after the other day.

He himself considered packing everything up and leaving, a fresh start for his fresh start.

Even reconsidering it once more, he was checking the schedule for the trains that left the city when a noise broke his train of thought.

A quiet knock sounded from the door.

Harry thought he had maybe imagined it – maybe it was coming from outside, it was such a soft noise he wasn’t all that sure that there really anyone at the door.

But then he heard it again.

Louder this time, maybe even frantic.

He grew nervous, slow steps towards the door. It had to be someone else who lived in the building, because there were few people who knew where he was and even fewer who were in this very town with him.

His heart leapt in his throat when he opened the door.

You stood on the other side, wide eyes gazing up to meet his as the wooden door swung open. You had on the same thick black coat as you did the other day, same peach toned embroidered patterns running up the front and up to the collar.

He watched your mouth part open, no words coming out. One of your hands was hanging by your side, the other grabbing onto the straps of your tote back that seemed heavy over your shoulder. You had on thin brown gloves.

“What are you doing here?” Harry nearly choked out the words, gripping tightly on the frame of the door as he stared you down.

“I – I don’t know,” you responded, voice wavering slightly.

He sighed, watching as your eyes flicked down to the floor for a moment before meeting his once more when you heard his soft exhale. “I was heading to the café again – and I don’t know – I kept walking. Ended up here.”

You fell silent once more. He so desperately wanted to fill the quiet gap, but held his tongue. He didn’t need embarrass himself with any more desperate pleas.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” you suddenly said, voice louder this time as you tired to recall any of the script you had thought over on the walk up. You held his gaze, eyes steady on each other. “About everything that happened with us.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“And I just…wanted to see you again.”

His heart leapt again, feeling like it was growing wings and trying to fly out of his chest. He parted the door open wider in his grasp, leaving a gap in the doorway. “Did you want to come in?”

You hesitated in your steps. You really did want to accept his invitation, but you also knew how easily you could get wrapped up in him if you were so much as standing in the same room.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” you started, watching his face fall slightly. You quickly spoke again. “But maybe we could get dinner?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” the corners of your lips perked slightly, softening your expression. “Like a date.”

He mirrored your smile, watching as you shifted your weight on your feet. You were making no effort to hide your nerves, something he appreciated. “Tonight?”

You nodded. “If that works for you.”

“It does, yeah,” he didn’t need to think about it.

“Okay,” you nodded once more, biting at your bottom lip. “Can I maybe get your number? I think I only have your old one.”

He nodded, of course you could have his number. He didn’t dare let his thoughts entertain how you knew the number you had was no longer his, the thought of you calling him only to be met with nothing was a little too heartbreaking to think about at the moment.

After he added himself to your phone once again and sent himself a text so he’d have yours again (he’d deleted it one night on an impulse, one night after a few too many drinks that he immediately regretted the next day).

“I’ll let you know the details for tonight,” you told him, after sliding your phone back into your pocket and readjusted the bag over your shoulder.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled at you, a newfound giddiness in his nerves. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You were off as quickly as you hard arrived, walking back out onto the street and down the newly plowed sidewalk to sit in the café once more and hopefully get some work done before you were to see Harry later that day.

All while Harry was restless all day, mind unable to turn off as he felt excited to see you again. He tried not to get overly optimistic, but it was hard not to.

You had texted him not much more than an hour after seeing him, telling him to meet you at the restaurant at seven o’clock.

The day had past for to slowly. He tried to busy himself, but nothing really seemed to work so all he could really do was wait until he was time for him to head out and meet you.

When the time finally came, he was practically sprinting down the street, happy to see the restaurant you had chosen was well within walking distance from his place. He got there early, but didn’t care. He knew that when you were nervous, you would show up just a bit late, so it was no surprised when you joined him at the table a little past seven.

He sat up straighter as you settled in the chair across from him, shrugging off the same thick black coat to hang off the back of your chair.

Immediately he noticed the locket that he’d gifted you, sitting against your skin directly between your collarbones. Your blouse looked silky, easily sitting around your shoulders with ruched sleeves that led to a form fitting front. The pale green seeming like it was glowing in the dim light of the restaurant.

“Hi,” your blush-swept cheeks rounded as you smiled up at him.

“Ordered us some wine,” he motioned to the bottle that was now sitting on the side of the table. “Hope that’s okay.”

“More than,” you smiled again, hand reaching over to grab your wine glass that had already been filled by the waiter a few minutes ago.

Small talk seemed insignificant at the moment, something that shouldn’t have to be endured by the two of you. But jumping right into an emotionally intense conversation didn’t sound like a good idea either.

“Bonne soirée mademoiselle,” the waiter interrupted the silence, greeting you before asking the both of you if you knew what you’d like to eat.

In slightly broken French you told him you both needed a minute before ordering. Both able to distract yourself as you glanced over what to order, only words shared about what looked good on the menu. But after sending off the waiter with your orders, the same silence settled once more.

“So,” Harry broke the silence, “if this is a date, are we not friends anymore?”

You smirked, a light expression that you easily hid behind your wine glass. “I don’t know,” you hummed, after swallowing the dark red liquid. “What do you think?”

“Not friends,” he affirmed. “Maybe something a bit more.”

It was incredible how easily you’d settled into this little teasing back and forth, how effortlessly seductive you could be.

You bit your lip once more, holding in whatever you were about to say. He watched you take another sip of wine, lips folding together when you swallowed the alcohol, a stray drop of red liquid staining your lips. Releasing your lips, your tongue made a quick swipe to collect any wine before you looked back up at your ex, and he had to tear his eyes away from your mouth.

Harry let out a quiet exhale. “You can’t keep me guessing,” he said, voice softer this time. “You have to give me something.”

You paused in your movement then, placing the glass back down on the table. You were glad for the wine as it helped settle the nerves that were building back up. “I was thinking a lot, about the other day. About everything really.”

He nodded, silently urging you to continue.

“Uhm well,” you blinked a few times, breaking his gaze, “– I never really let myself think about everything, you know?”

You suddenly seemed to forget everything you were planning on telling him.

“Do you remember that day – the last time we saw each other? When I picked up my things.”

Harry nodded again, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he tried to see what you were going to say.

You nearly wanted to laugh, not out of humour, at the memory of that day. You took a deep breath, forcing the confession from your mouth. “I wanted us to get back together that day,” you said, watching Harry’s expression closely. “To tell you it was all a mistake.”

Harry’s eyes widened, watching you very closely but he still didn’t utter a single word.

“And I hoped – maybe we would.” Your head was spinning at the memory, of the painful day that only led to more heartbreak.

“I thought that maybe –” Harry started, recalling that day just as well. “But I never saw you again.”

A quietness surrounded your table, even in the louder chatter of the space around you. Harry spoke again, voice wistful as his eyes held yours. “I should have kissed you longer.”

You needed to break his gaze to stare at the table, not wanting to cry. “I was hurt, I didn’t know how to handle it. After that day, I just needed to push it all away.”

“And I did – I managed for months.”

Harry felt his heart sink, fearing this conversation was going somewhere he hadn’t wanted to think about.

As timing had it, the food arrived at that moment and Harry suddenly thought he was going to be sick, the thought of eating anything the last thing on his mind at the moment.

You both offered tight lipped smiles at the waiter, quiet merci’s, and you didn’t say anything else until he was out of ear shot.

“I managed,” you repeated, voice pulling Harry out of a slightly spiraling train of thought. “But then seeing you here after all this time, and you telling me…”

You felt as if tears could break out at any second. “You telling me you want us to try again – all that pain came right back. Everything I had ignored.”

He murmured your name quietly, before you kept speaking. “But what you said, wanting to give us another shot…”

You looked back at him, wide eyes meeting his straight on. “I never wanted…”

Struggling to find your words once more, you watched as Harry took a big sip of his water.

“I didn’t think we’d actually end up like this,” you murmured quietly, watching Harry pause.

He placed his glass back down, pondering your words for a moment before looking up at you again. “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” you pushed some food around on your plate, the bravery you felt a few moments ago vanishing. “That we would actually split up. Thought it was just a rough patch or something…”

Maybe this wasn’t the conversation to be had in a public place. You felt like you could cry.

Harry’s voice was quiet when he spoke, he didn’t want to sound accusatory. “You were the one to suggest the split.”

As hard as he tried not to sound to pointed, you still flinched slightly at his words. You looked down this time, not looking back at as you trailed your finger over the condensation on your glass of water.

“It was –” you cut yourself off. It was mutual, you were going to say. It wasn’t, though. It never was. The only thing that was mutual was that neither of you really wanted to breakup with to begin with.

“I know,” you said instead after a moment. “I thought – I never thought we’d end up like this though. I thought –” you had to cut yourself off again.

This really wasn’t the conversation to be having in a restaurant where everyone else was happily eating and drinking around you. You looked up at him, willing your voice not to shake.

“I thought you’d fight for me.”

He knew you didn’t intend for your words to hit him with a sharp stab. He knew it very well, but he still felt the jab of pain through his chest.

“I didn’t know…” he breathed lightly, running his hand over his forehead, bringing it over his face before scratching at his jaw. He didn’t know you had felt that way. Maybe communication really had been your downfall. “Fighting for you now, aren’t I?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you let your shoulders relax. “Yeah, you are.”

Harry dared to ask. “Is this, I mean what we’re doing now, do you want us to try again?”

Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth, a mindless habit as you thought over his words. You hadn’t thought of it so formally, more like you were just spending time with your ex.

When you were quiet, and he momentarily started to panic once more as he feared he had misread the situation.

“I do,” you said softly, gazing up at him. He couldn’t help the leap of his heart. “I want to give us a shot.”

You both stared at each other for a moment, quiet unspoken words shared. His next words were low, as he watched every flicker of your eyes. “How about we treat this like a date then.”

When your lips curved upwards, and you glanced away playfully, he let out a relieved breath once again. “Yeah, how about we do.”

You needed to take a few quiet breaths through your nose, not a few minutes ago on the verge of tears as you thought about the prospects of starting anew with Harry. You’d talk more after.

“What do you say to desert?”

You leant forward over the newly cleared table with a forearm on the wood, only a spot of wine left in your glass that you swirled in one hand.

The remainder of the evening after your little talk had been nothing but lovely.

It was like it was back to being you, back to the dynamic you’d always had together.

Discussing everything and anything that happened in your time apart, anecdotes as minor as catching Harry up on the gossip from your now old workplace.

The wine had very likely contributed to the increasingly flirty glances, and touches. It felt good to touch each other again.

Hand falling over his on the table, his knee bumping yours under the table. It was all innocent, all completely crumbling whatever idea you’d might’ve had over the idea of ever being over Harry.

You were both completely enthralled with each other.

Harry couldn’t for a second take his eyes off of you, even following your every move until you disappeared around the corner when you headed to the toilet.

You seemed to glow the more the evening went on, a happy sheen taking over your eyes and it only warmed his heart further.

Not only that, but every lingering stare and teasing touch was only adding to the growing desire he had for you. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to feel your body pressed against his.

Memories of the two of you didn’t help, memories that he apparently would never forget, especially as your teeth bit down into your bottom lip and your leg extended under the table to firmly press against his own.

“And what do you suggest as desert?”

“Anything you want,” he spoke lowly, eyes flirting with yours. “Back at mine?”

You bit your bottom lip down, the offer not surprising you but still sent a familiar tingle down your spine. “Desert to go, then?”

“If your up for it.”

He turned in his chair, signaling for the check which he swiftly paid without giving you a single moment to object. You tried your hardest to bite down your smile, lips sucked in against your teeth as you watched the man in front of you push his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

You did the same, holding his eyes in a silent agreement to his offer. You were promptly walking out into the cool air outside. Harry’s hand grabbed yours,

Fingers interlocked, he kept you close to him as the both of you walked. You were glad you hadn’t put your gloves back on, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

Walking side by side along the familiar sidewalks, through the old town while crowds were dwindling down in the later hours of the evening. Harry’s pace slowed at one point, hand squeezing yours as you walked past the arrays of ice cream shops that would have lines through the street if it were summer.

“You want one?” Harry swung your locked hands forward, pointing to one of the still open parlors.

You turned to look at him, his cheeks reddened by the cold. “You were serious about the desert?”

He bumped his hip to yours, arm moving to instead wrap around your shoulders with your hand still holding him, his forearm against your chest to hold you close. His lips pressed over the side of your head, feeling the heat of his breath over your skin. “’Course – what did you think I meant?”

You chose not to answer his teasing words, instead just squeezing his hand in your grasp. “It’s too cold for ice cream.”

His lips moved from the back of your head, mouth lingering by your ear. “I have some of those chocolates you love so much – since you seem so eager to get back to mine.”

“You’re impossible,” you laughed, sinking back into his side as you continued your walk through the town and up the hill.

It wasn’t long until you were back in the warmth of his rented apartment, shaking the cold from your fingertips and snow from your jackets.

Harry had been true to his word, pulling out a little white box of chocolates with the familiar stamp over it. They were just as delicious as you’d remembered, indulging in the treat sitting next to Harry, each with a fresh glass of wine.

You borrowed his sweater that was hanging off the chair, and Harry couldn’t have imagined a more natural sight.

Sitting in his warm clothes, sharing sweet treats and dark red glasses of wine. Laughing together, talking, sitting pressed against each other with warmed skin and blissed smiles.

The intention to stay the night with him was an unspoken one, so when the night seemed to slow and you excused yourself to the washroom, Harry felt nearly nervous.

After a few moments, you found Harry with his back turned to you in the kitchen. You paused in your steps, watching him for a moment. He was tinkering around with something, placing mugs back in the cupboards and moving dishes around. He seemed to be only distracting himself, as if waiting for you while you were in the washroom.

He heard you coming up from behind him, but he still jumped slightly when your hand was placed over his back with a light touch. He turned to look at you, neither of you speaking for a moment as your hand slid up over his shoulder.

You looked soft in the warm lighting. Your makeup had been washed off, still in his sweater that hung around your hips. You looked just as beautiful, just as inviting as you lightly bit your lips together, watching him quietly. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you.

Harry cleared his throat. “Ready to go to bed?”

His voice came out low, scratchy, like it hadn’t been used in a while.

You didn’t say anything, holding back a smile. Your hip bumped his, sliding yourself closer to him as your hand joined the other around his shoulders.

He easily brought you in closer to him, hands finding their rightful place around the small of your back and his gaze teased over yours, a slow and obvious glance as you instinctively wet your lips. There hadn’t been a single kiss shared since the other morning, and you both deserved one, didn’t you?

A small soundless laugh left your parting mouth, you suppose it was a nervous reaction – nerves that were nearly unfamiliar to you even if this situation was anything but.

His lips found your own, after a nudge of his nose over yours and a tilt of your jaw to meet him halfway.

Although it was just the other day you had felt his mouth against yours, this was all the more different. This wasn’t an impulse decision based on confused feelings and desire, this was rather clear feelings and still a good dose of desire.

Lips soft over yours at first, he placed only a light lingering kiss over your mouth before silently pulling away. Your eyes parted open, watching him through your eyelashes as he held your silent gaze, leaning back in to press a light kiss over the corner of your mouth. He repeated the same move, leaning back and then forward once more to kiss over the other side, just at the crest of your lips.

It was with soft, tantalizing moves – of quiet brushes of lips around your face before his mouth met yours.

One of his hands raised from your hip, cupping the side of your face to hold you closer. You fully leant into his every touch, melting into his warm skin as his mouth enveloped yours. It was with slow touches at first, of breathing each other in before your tongue pushed against his and you opened up further to the other.

He tasted like the chocolate you had shared, like sweet red wine and like Harry. Your Harry. The one who you got the pleasure of calling your partner for nearly two years, the one who’d made you feel loved like never before. He tasted like home.

You were perfectly slotted between his body and the counter, your behind pushing up against the countertop as Harry pushed himself closer to you.

With your chests pressed closely, you were all wandering hands and breathy sighs as you indulged in a kiss filled with nothing but desire.

Harry’s hands skimmed over your sides, brushing over the soft fabric of the borrowed sweater. “You’re gorgeous,”

His lips found their way over your chin, silently urging you to tilt your jaw up so that he could press soft sucks over your neck. “Smell so fucking good.”

Murmuring a quiet, “shit,” over your skin, you could feel his lips turn up to a smile. “You’re everything to me, y’know that?”

Your smoothed a hand from his cheek up to his hair, light scratches over his scalp in a silent urge to feel his mouth on yours again. His words were making your head spin, a rapid beating of your heart paired with the slow burn of butterflies in your stomach.

Capturing his mouth with your own, you breathed him in with soft touches of lips that were quickly growing faster, heavier. Messy clashes of teeth, of muffled sighs and quiet calls of each others names.

His hips were pushing against yours – and although at this point you truly knew all his moves, you still had a small hitch of your breath at the feeling of his centre lightly rutting over yours. You sighed his name into his mouth, as he swallowed your quiet breaths as if to keep them at the back of his mind forever.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he breathed, lips smeared over your jaw. “Take it as slow as you want.”

You were smiling at the ceiling, hands gripping into the smooth fabric of his shirt, excitement growing at his words. You knew very well what you wanted.

“And what do you want?” You countered, feeling his lips smile on your skin.

He pulled away from you just enough so that your gazes could meet, staring you down with gleaming eyes and swollen lips. “You – it’s always you.”

The words were kissed over your mouth. “God, what’re you doing to me,” he breathed a quiet laugh. “Driving me crazy, angel.”

It was your turn to smile into the kiss, squeezing his shoulder in quiet response. “I want this. I want you.”

Harry didn’t answer, and instead just captured your mouth in another breathless kiss. It didn’t take long before he was pulling you out of the kitchen, flicking off the overhead light as you both followed the glow that came from the bedroom.

His hand clasped with yours, a quiet excitement around the both of you. As you followed closely behind him you couldn’t help the small turn in your lips, the rapid beating of your heart along with the growing desire for the man leading you to his bed.

You were both quiet, the grip of your hands breaking as Harry turned off one of the lights, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the room. You tugged off the thick yellow sweater, placing it on the dresser across from the bed, and you were back in only your silky blouse.

When you turned around, you saw Harry sitting on the mattress, his legs off the side of the bed with his feet planted on the floor. His eyes met yours, a soft smile gracing his features as you stood an arms length away.

“Come here,” his voice was low, the simple phrase sending shivers down your spine.

You placed a palm in his extended hand, making the few steps needed to get to standing in front of him. His other hand raised, cupping your cheek while his legs spread for you to stand between them.

Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, you both held each other for a moment as you took the other in. You were the first to break the silent staring contest, leaning down until your forehead pressed against his and it only took a few seconds before your lips were together.

The feeling of his thumb brushing under your bottom lip was a soothing one, as he pressed one, two three sweet pecks against your mouth before pulling you in closer.

You nearly stumbled on your feet, still standing as you leant down to meet the mouth of your lover. Harry raised your interlocked fingers, placing your hand around the back of his neck to meet your other, before he placed his own hand firmly over the soft fabric covering the curve of your hip.

A soft exhale came from your nose as his lips parted with yours, licking into your mouth as the kissed deepened. Your breath mixed, the grip of your fingers tightening around him as your kiss grew a little more purposeful. His hand that rested over your cheek brushed lower, gripping your chin between his thumb and index to tilt your face even closer to his.

You were so pliable under his touch, following every motion that he lead you to. It was like getting to know each other all over again, the quiet excitement of feeling the others body, paired with the intimate familiarity of the man in front of you.

Your lips broke apart so that Harry could sponge his mouth down your jaw, breathing hotly against you with a trail of wet kisses on the sensitive skin. His hand squeezed your hip, muttering over your neck. “C’mere-“

The words were a deep rumble from his chest, moving back and slightly breaking his touch with you as he slid back further on the mattress. You easily followed him, knees dipping into the duvet as you found your place over his lap.

“Sorry – !” Your voice rose above a whisper when your chin bumped his nose as you lowered over him to press a kiss over his cheek, just as he was seeking your mouth. You felt his chest shake with a laugh, hands smoothing on either of your hips to pull you onto his lap.

“Stay –” his voice was muffled with his mouth sliding over your chin, “– right here.”

His hands held you tightly, thumbs pushing up under your shirt to rub over the bare skin that protruded over the tight waistband of your pants.  

A kiss was pressed on the corner of your lip, Harry moving back to meet your gaze for a flicker of a moment, before leaning in to press a linger kiss to your cupid’s bow. You both easily found your rhythm once more, mouths finding each other with a newfound need for the other.

Your stomach was warmed as his hands splayed over your skin, feeling the small tugs on the light fabric of your shirt when Harry pinched the material in his fingers. Your lips left his in a subtle pant, feeling his light stubble over your cheek when you titled your head to plant your mouth over his jaw.

Your name left his mouth paired with a low moan, all while you puckered your lips over his skin, sucking softly and left a trail of wet marks down the column of his neck. Your fingers were woven through his hair, light pulls over the strands as he let out shaky breaths above you.

His hands were venturing higher under your blouse, fingertips playing with the lace detail of your bra. You melted under his touch; his hands were warm and you couldn’t help but whimper lightly over his neck when he palmed over your breast.

Harry let his head hang low, tips of his hair tickling your shoulder as he mumbled quietly. “You look beautiful tonight,” he breathed you in. “Have I told you that?”

You only hummed over his skin, thighs squeezing his a little tighter when he tugged at your bra. “Let’s get this off you,” he murmured.

Pulling back from him, you met his gaze with heavy eyes and parted lips. His own lips were swollen, kissed darker and looked oh so inviting for more. You hoped you looked just as enticing. You glanced down at the miniscule gap between the both of you, as his hands raised under your blouse to pull it over your head.

Tossing it somewhere on the floor, his touch was back on your bare skin within seconds as he tugged your bra straps down your shoulders, and attached his lips on your collarbone. His mouth was soft, lips wet from swiping his tongue over them before planting them to your skin once more. He was holding you so tightly, hands smoothing flatly over your bare middle in soft circles.

Placing your hands over his chest, you blindly sought out the buttons that lined his blue shirt with fast attempts to pull them open. The skin of his chest was warm, the thin buttons slipping under your slightly shaking fingers.

Eventually successful with your task, you greedily pushed the fabric off of his skin as far as you could as he refused to take his hands off of you to help fully remove the item of clothing. His hands were spreading lower over your thighs, sliding over the soft fabric of your trousers until they held your bum with a firm grip. Kneading his fingers into the swell of skin, you keened into his touch and leant your body closer to his with a soft push of your hips.

You found yourself clenching around nothing, no doubt already making a small mess in your underwear as you felt his hardening cock pushing against your thigh. A moan made its way through his mouth, calling your name with a certain breathlessness.

Your bra straps were falling down your shoulders, sitting nearly uncomfortably as your breasts spilled out but you didn’t care, not with Harry’s mouth searching for more and more of your skin until it was circling around one of your nipples. One of his hands had found its way back over your breast, feeling the soft weight in his palm as both his mouth and hand gave your chest attention. With a rush of warmth through your stomach, you tilted your head into the crook of his neck with a sigh over his shoulder.

“This good?” He muttered over your skin, a quiet groan following his words as you arched your back into his touch.

It was the perfect mix of the quiet familiarity along with the excitement of a first time.

You answered him with a breathy “yes”, telling him that it was “so good” and that he definitely should not stop.

You could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin, pulling away with a small nip of his teeth. The skin where he had left a wet impression of his mouth was cool when he pulled away. He raised his head with sly smile gracing his features as both your breaths were heavy and chests rose and fell in quick puffs.

You felt Harry’s other hand glide over your hips, a small dig of his fingers into your covered skin. A quiet yelp escaped your lips that same hand graced your behind with a small smack, quick motion before he was kneading his fingertips back over your bum. You fell closer against him, holding him tightly as he muttered one more “come here,” and fell back over the mattress until his head hit the pillows.

Your chest followed his as you leant down with him, your weight over him which was something he very much welcomed.

Planting your elbows into the mattress, you supported yourself up as your mouth found his once more. Kissing slowly, enjoying each other for a moment while his hands slid up your bare back and fumbled with the clasp of your bra until it was set loose and you could easily throw it to the floor.

His palms circled from your back to your front, gripping the weight of your breasts in his palms as he felt them rest over his own chest. Tugging at your hardened nipples, you whined into his mouth as rutted your hips over his, the hardness of his cock felt through his pants.

Lifting your mouth from his, he felt his neck crane as he searched to keep your mouths connected for a moment longer. You pressed a light kiss over his cupids bow, fingertips brushing over his cheeks as you watched his eyelids open with soft flutter.

His pupils were blown, quiet smile gracing his lips as his hands petted over your bare back. You returned his smile, tracing the line of his cheek down to his jaw. You mouth following the path that your fingers had drawn, small open-mouthed kisses over the sharpness of his jaw and down to his neck.

Your hands moved down to quickly push at the fabric of his shirt, doing your best to slide it off his shoulders as you urged him to move his arms up with quiet pants over his neck. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

“Hey,” Harry spoke quietly, one hand grabbing hold of your wrist. He raised your hand, placing a light kiss on the inside of your wrist. “We’re in no rush-“

You smiled down at the man underneath of you, feeling three more kisses pressed over the skin of your wrist before Harry was moving his arms from around you to tug the shirt off of his frame. Leveraging on the mattress, he pushed himself up and in a quick move as your own fingers gripped tightly into his shoulders.

“Easy,” he groaned into your skin moving to ease you over so that your back hit the mattress and he was laid half over you, face hovering by yours. “Just like that.”

With a moment of shuffling limbs, he slotted himself between your parted legs as he held himself with an arm on either side of you. All in a haze, he shot you a lopsided grin before he leant back down, open mouth against yours with a lick over your lips.

A slow, languid kiss as you scraped your nails over his shoulder blades, hugging him close to you as your mouths moved together. Touch growing sloppier, something neither of you minded that much as his wet lips trailed down your chin and down your jaw.

You could feel one of his hands smoothing down your side, holding your frame tightly as if he feared you would disappear at any moment. Although he was the on to tell you to slow down, to relax, you could feel the slight shake in his hands and the breathless pants that never ceased from his lips.

His open mouth pressed hot kisses down your sternum, making his way over with a trail of wet spots left behind before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. A choked whimper got caught in his throat, the hum vibrating around you as you arched your back into his touch.

He licked over the sensitive nub, gaging your every reaction as a bout of pride wrapped around him when you sighed his name into the air and trailed your fingers over the nape of his neck to grab a firm hold in his hair.

“You like that?” He mumbled over your skin, one hand kneading the soft skin of your breast that he was so enamoured by.

“You know I do,” your voice was a whine, cracking mid sentence.

“I know –” you could hear his smirk, “just making sure.”

One of his hands was smoothing down your side, thumbing at the waistband of your trousers while his thighs pushed tightly against your centre. You couldn’t help the slow moves of your back, arching it up into his touch.

Desperate under his slow touches, you ran your hands down his bare back with your nails gliding over his skin. You could feel his groan over your breast, as he felt your hands move around his hips. Soft fingers brushing over his lower stomach in a way that had his muscles clenching.

“Let me touch you,” you whimpered over his hair. Harry slowly rose his head, glistening lips moving to a smile when you quietly repeated, “I want to make you feel good.”

He lifted his torso up a bit, slowly moving off of your body. He was easily giving in to what you wanted, hoisting himself up higher over you until he was sat on his knees. You easily followed, crossing your legs as you sat across from your lover.  

Never going that long without touching you, one of his hands lightly cupped your cheek to lean forward and press a lustful kiss to your mouth. “Please,” his voice was raw, “please, touch me.”

Your hands quickly found the button of his pants when he pulled back, while he watched and leant forward on his knees. You head hung low and you made quick work to pop the button and tug the zipper down, fingers brushing over the skin above the waistband as you pulled on the fabric.

“Go on,” he spoke lowly, helping you as he moved over the bed so that you could bring the fabric over his hips. Your fingers hooked under the band of his briefs as well, sliding them down along with his trousers. “Gonna get me out?”

You didn’t offer him an answer, instead gave up on fully removing his pants and instead only pulled them to the middle of his thighs. You placed a hand over his bare leg, eyes falling down to his cock, thick and hotly aching to feel your touch.

A low inhale could be heard from Harry’s parted lips, as you trailed your fingertips over the familiar outline of the tattoo on his thigh. You brought your hand up over the crest of his leg, and brushed a light touch over the underside of his cock. A shakier inhale was heard, as Harry silently watched you lazily move your fingertips over him.

You bowed your head lower, tucking your legs under your bum as you easily recalled every little move that made Harry shudder above you.

He had one hand planted on the mattress behind him, leaning back slightly in a way that exposed more of his skin to you. You easily took the invitation, leaning forward to place a flurry of kisses over his lower stomach following the little trail of hair. Soft suction of your mouth over the skin leading to his pelvis, you felt one of Harry’s hands raise to lay lightly over the back of your head.

His fingers lightly scratched over your scalp, a light and comforting action as a murmur of your name was heard from above. Your mouth was slowly making its way to where he was begging. The muscles in his stomach jumped when you licked a slow strip over the underside of his cock, lips lingering over him for a beat before circling around his tip with a light suck. Keeping your grip at his base, you dragged your tongue over his tip as you let the saliva from your mouth fall over him.

“Good – that’s good –” Harry moaned from above you, hand trailing down to your jaw. He watched as you took him into your mouth, not as much as he knew you could and just enough to get him wet – wet and wanting more as you tightened your lips around him. Sliding your hand over the wetness you had created, moving over his balls with light touches, so light he couldn’t help but groan with a buck of his hips.

You felt Harry’s thumb brush lovingly over your cheek as he seemed lost of what to say.

Your glossy eyes met his glazed ones, feeling the utter desire in his look while he watched you. Briefly pulling off of him, you murmured a quiet, “feels good?”

Harry shuddered above you, needing to ground himself as you were working him up far too quickly. You were back on him within seconds, as he choked out a broken “feels like heaven.”

Tightening your lips around him, you dipped your head lower with a slow exhale through your nose, dragging your tongue over more of him.

“Fuck,” he wheezed, “jus’ like that, just like that,” he was rambling, unable to form a coherent thought, as quiet whines broke through his words, “good girl.”

You moaned around him, soft vibrations only adding to the pleasure that was raging hot inside of him. He nearly lost it when you bowed your head, eyes looking up through your lashes to meet his heavy gaze.

If you didn’t stop soon he was going to meet his release down your throat.

Sliding his fingers under your jaw, he muttered quietly as your movements eased over him. “Y’gonna make me cum,” he spoke breathlessly.

“Lie down, yeah? Let me feel you.”’

His fingers under your jaw were gently easing you off of his cock. Your mouth left him with a heavy breath, lips still parted as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Straightening out your spine until you were more at level with him, watery eyes peering into his. Harry easily regained his grip over your cheek, kissing you slowly, lazily, while pushing you to lie down on your back once again.

Once your head hit a pillow and he was hovering over you, Harry kicked off his pants the rest of the way before smoothing his hands over the skin of your tummy. He was pulling off your belt and pulling your trousers fall down yours legs within seconds, leaving you in only a thin little pair of underwear.

He brushed a hand over your inner thigh, as you watched his every move with hungry eyes. “Can I feel you,” he kissed your cheek. “D’you want that?”

Your grip over his shoulder tightened. “Yes,” you moaned into the air, jolting lightly when his thumb brushed over your covered core. “I’m –”

You couldn’t help the way you squeezed your legs together, the soft pulsing of your core driving you crazy. He placed a light kiss over your lips, pulling back with a slow smile.

“You’re what, angel?”

You bit your lip down hard at the use of the pet name, holding back a moan. “I want you – I’m wet. I … Harry!”

You couldn’t help but cry out when his hand pushed between your thighs, slipping under the elastic of your underwear so he could brush over your folds. “You’re wet,” he repeated it like it was a prayer, two fingers sliding over you. “So wet.”

“You’ve got to open your pretty legs for me,” he watched your eyes screw shut. “Just like that – good,” he praised as your legs opened for him.

Hooking a finger under the thin band that sat around your hip, he pulled the flimsy fabric down to the middle of your thighs as his other hand held your legs down, keeping them parted for him. You turned your head on the pillow, eyes catching Harry’s as his face hovered next to yours and he watched you with lust filled eyes.

You wrapped the arm closest to him around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while his fingers moved up to your clit. You were getting him sticky with your wetness, as he drew slow patterns over the sensitive bit of nerves. You were moaning into his mouth, teeth hitting his chin as you panted over each other.

“How’re you feeling?” He kissed the words over your skin, nose brushing your cheek as he pressed his chest over your side.

“Good,” whimpering over his skin, you ached to feel just something more. “You’re always good – always know what I want.”

You could feel his lips curve to a smile over your cheek, fingers venturing lower before he had two pushing inside of you. You gasped a breath, the slight stretch something you welcomed – something you had missed.

You were just as warm and wet as he remembered – as he tried not to think about late at night when he was missing you and was lonelier than usual. Your hips bucked into his hand, biting your lips down when he pushed his fingers against that perfect spongey spot inside of you.

The hold of your teeth over your lips didn’t last long, lips parting when Harry muttered a low “let me hear you,” and you were moaning his name. With a slow and steady rhythm inside of you, he moved his thumb up over your clit again.

His hand was getting covered in your arousal, the two fingers pumping with intent inside of you. His lips were pressing a flurry of kisses along your skin, from capturing your lips to sucking and biting into the crook of your neck. Other hand was smoothing over your skin, leaving a hot path in its wake, so hot like you could combust at any second.

Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, keeping his lips closed to your skin as you blindly pulled at his messy strands of hair. Clenching around him, he sucked into your skin harsher at the way you felt, at the way your fingers scratched over his skin.

Harry watched your face twist in pleasure – your eyes shut tight with your lips either harshly bit between your teeth or parting to let out the most beautiful moans.

You were both thrown right back into it, right back into the familiar touches and sounds and moves. You’d both thought about it countless times, but reliving it and making it a reality once more like this was indescribable.

Small incomprehensible words were heard from your mouth, mutterings of how much you missed him and how incredible he was making you feel. He knew every move that made your moan, ever little word to mutter into your ear – always paired with a heart fluttering pet name.

He was working you up so well, every move his ins fingers over you and inside of you making you breath a little heavier, made that warm coil in the pit of your stomach grow just that much hotter.

Your hand not around his back gripped his bicep, squeezing the skin tightly as you tried to think clearly. “Wait,” your voice was hoarse, spent. “Not yet.”

He craned his neck, raising his head from the crook of your neck, and placed a light kiss over your lips. Opening your fluttering eyelids, you saw him watching you with heavy, dark eyes as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, he slid them over your folds, skin slick and wet under his touch as he drew languid circles over your clit.

“Want to feel me?” He whispered, breath felt over your cheek. He trailed his hand away from between your legs, light brushes of his wet fingers over your thighs.

You simply nodded, unable to properly think and he left another smattering of kisses over your chin and over your lips. Catching his mouth with yours, your tongue slowly licked over his bottom lip as he pulled away with a groan, hoisting himself higher over you to sit back on his knees next to you.

It was all familiar, but all felt brand new at the same time. The way his hands grabbed your hips, the low raspy tone in his words when he whispered, “how d’you want me?”

Legs parting wider from either side of him, hooking your ankles around his hips as you attempted to tug him towards him. Peering up at Harry from where you laid, you took a heavy breath before asking him, “like this?”

He paused, only for a brief split-second before swallowing a dry breath and nodded his head. “However you want,” he muttered, hands back on you within seconds. Spreading his palm over your hips, he leant down over you a pressed a kiss to your sternum, “whatever you want.”

He leant down with his knees dipping into the soft mattress, while his chest hovered over yours and his hands rubbed over your sides. He raised his head, lips nearing yours with a soft mutter. “Condom?”

You hadn’t considered the need to protection until then. Thinking it over for split-second, you shook your head as you met his eyes. “No I – I haven’t,” you paused mid breath. Haven’t been with anyone since you.

He seemed to understand your silent words. “Me neither,” he murmured lightly, pressing himself closer to you. You could feel his cock right there at the crest of your thigh, an arch in your back deepening as you grew desperate to feel him.

Repositioning himself on his knees, he raised his chest and kept and firm grip over your hip while his other hand gripped the base of his cock. You pushed back against him, not really caring how eager you were for him as he cursed breathlessly.

“Relax,” his words were clipped, the head of his cock entering you in a slow thrust. “Fuck – there we go – it’s just me.”

Letting out a deep breath as he eased himself in, the stretch familiar but still caused a shiver down your spine as it was something you hadn’t felt in nearly a year. Pushing back against him, feeling more of him slip inside of you as a sputter of words left Harry lips.

“You feel too good – fuck -,” you shifted your legs around him, the rest of him pushing inside of you as his pelvis hit yours His hands smoothed over your hips. “Please tell me it’s okay, please.”

He was everywhere, the best possible way. You sank into the mattress, thighs squeezing his hips as you ground your hips up into his.

A broken, “please baby,” escaped your lips.

Harry started with slow movements, needing a second to compose himself as feeling you in the most intimate way he could was already driving him close to the edge.

“Please what?” He muttered, a shallow thrust inside of you that had both of you biting back moans.

“More,” you whined lowly. He was holding you so tightly you were sure to be bruises, and one of his hands moved down to smooth over your thigh, a sharp smack sounding through the air paired with the light sting as you moaned into your arm. You let out a dreamy breath, feeling him pump deeper thrusts inside of you.

And God he was deep. You felt a burn deep inside your stomach, the repeating motions of his hips pushing into yours was felt so deliciously inside of you. Harry was already panting from above you, sharp breaths as he leant his weight back over yours to drag his mouth over your neck.

One of his hands sneaked around your legs, palm smoothing over your lower stomach with a slow and soothing pattern, a sharp contrast to the way he was deeply pushing into you.

“Oh…!” You moaned lowly when the hand over your belly sneaked down lower, two fingers circling over your clit right above where you were connected. “Harry –”

“Tell me it’s good,” he breathed, fingers rubbing over the sensitive bit of nerves.

“Always,” you called, voice wavering unattractively. Your own moan cut you off, voice tapering away as it seemed to get caught in your throat when his fingers moved on your clit with purpose. “You feel so good.”

Harry was watching your every reaction to him, attentive to the way you reacted – he was happy to feel as though nothing had changed after all this time, he was happy to see that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.  

He found himself holding back his tongue as confessions of love were about to spill from his lips.

Whine laced breaths were caught on Harry’s mouth when he pressed it against your own in a heavy kiss. His hips were pumping into yours with a steady pace, as if each move was so perfectly calculated when really the simple truth was that you both worked perfectly well together.

Your core was clenching around him, not even realizing that you were doing so as the euphoria in your body was building right back up. You were quietly whining his name, barely aware of the way your nails dug into his back.

Your first orgasm of the night came suddenly. It was as if something quickly snapped inside of you, a sharp break as you were quickly pushing your hips into his with an arch in your back, calling for the heavens and Harry.

His lips hovered by your ear, murmuring a string of praises while your core spasmed around him in the aftershocks of your release. It wasn’t the most mindblowing orgasm of your life, but after a long time of not being properly taken care of, it was just what you needed.

Harry barely slowed as you came around him, chest heaving into yours at the sharp pleasure of feeling you come. Though that steady pace faltered when the burning pit in his stomach seemed to grow hotter. He knew he needed to take a moment otherwise he’d be coming far too soon and he really didn’t want your first time back together again wasn’t the best he could give you.

After a short shallow thrust, the feeling of being full was suddenly lost to you as Harry slipped out of you. “Oh,” he muttered, leaning back from above you. He let out a breathless laugh, small shake in his hands. “Fuck – baby you feel incredible.”

But when he didn’t push back inside of you, you looked up at him with glossy eyes with a quiet whine of “what are you doing?”

His chest shook with a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed himself to calm down. “Just, give me a sec’,” he focused all his attention on the slow movement of your hand brushing down his back.

He opened his eyes as a soft giggle escaped your lips, meeting your shinning eyes as he took in every inch of your face. Your fluttering eyelids, blissed out smile that graced your swollen lips, and rounded cheeks that followed your grin.

Raising one hand to cup over your jaw, he traced every line and curve of your face with his thumb as his lips lightly followed its path. After a quiet whimper of his name, he let his mouth fall over yours and kissed you deeply. A hand slid up over the side of your face, fingers petting over your hair in repetitive motions.

“How’re you feeling?” His lips moved over your mouth as they formed the words.

“Good,” you swallowed a dry breath. “really good.”

“We always were really good at this – take care of each other,” you could hear his smirk as his hips rutted over yours, cock sliding over the crest of your thigh. “Made for each other.”

Moaning a breathless yeah, he kissed you deeply once more before you were whining his name into his mouth.

“Please – want you to come,” you kissed over his jaw. “Fuck me – please.”

Harry sucked in a breath with a hiss, your words eliciting a twitch of his length against you. He pushed his hips with your once more, telling you a cheeky “anything for you.”

Lining himself with you once more, pushing in as he kissed over your jaw. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he would be met with his release, and with the way you were clenching around him he hoped you would as well.

You were pushing your hips up to meet his thrust, back arching over the mattress as your fingertips scratched over his back, never letting go. He was still just as deep, still hitting every spot that made you clench around him and call his name into the air as you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Grabbing under one of your thighs, he urged you to hook your legs around his waist. “Right over here,” he begged, as you easily complied, feeling him fit so snug with you. “Good girl,” he kissed the words over your lips. “Keep me here.”

He was easily working you right back up. The sex was always good with him, and you didn’t know if it was because of the recent reunion, the desperateness of the act, but this seemed especially good.

Your eyes were screwed shut, focusing on every feeling of his skin against yours. You felt Harry’s lips press gently over your closed lids.

His mouth was all over you – his hands were all over you. He was everywhere. And you welcomed every bit of it.

“Wanna,” he muttered. “Want to see you,” a kiss was pressed to your shoulder, “open your eyes for me?”

A broken praise of a low “good girl” was mumbled from his lips, as you parted your heavy lids and gazed up at him. His cheek brushed yours, seeming to kiss over every inch of your face. He bowed his head, watching the way your bodies connected – the way he sunk so deeply into you.

His pace was unrelenting, fingers gripping tightly into your skin. One of his hands slid down your arm, unwrapping it from around his back to slot your fingers together and push you into the mattress. You squeezed his hand tightly in your grip, whimpering lowly from beneath him.

He moved your connected hands up over your head, driving down inside of you in deep moves. His lips latched to your neck, muttering near nonsense over your skin. “You make me feel so good,” he groaned, “heavenly.”

Choking over a gasp when Harry’s free hand smoothed over your thigh, kneading into the swell of your bum only to give a small smack over the skin. Involuntarily clenching around him, his hips bucked as his pace grew a little more desperate.

He was nearly shaking from above you. “I’m close –”

You moaned his name over his cheek.

He grunted with a sharp thrust. “Say my name like that, shit, talk to me.”

“Harry…” your voice was low, a whisper over your skin. “Come for me, please I want to feel you.”

He screwed his eyes shut, feeling it near impossible to hold off any longer. The muscles in his stomach were clenched tight, hand holding onto yours for dear life as his mouth slide over your skin.

“I’m – fuck,” his lips brushed yours as he spoke, chest heaving against yours. “Sorry fuck…I’m coming,” he groaned your name, hips hitting one, two times hard into yours as he came inside of you. He stilled for a moment, feeling his cock twitch with his release. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, feeling his weight fall completely on you with his clammy skin sticking to yours.

Repeating your name over and over against your mouth, eyelids completely shut as your hand soothed through his hair. You could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest, a few more sloppy thrusts as he came down from his high.

Seeming like it took all his strength, he pushed himself up on his forearms so that his upper body could rise over yours, he opened his eyes with a few quick blinks.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and you immediately noticed the small wet patch of skin under his eyes. You were unable to help the curve in your lips, moving your hand up from the back of his head to rest against his cheek. Wiping away the little trail of tears that graced his cheekbones, you craned your neck to plant a small peck over his lips. “You okay?”

You brushed a thumb over his cheek as he spoke.

“More than,” you could feel his smile over your mouth. “Just overwhelmed – missed your body, missed feeling you.”

“God,” his chest shook with a laugh this time, a small breathless laugh with a shake of his head. “It was fast… wanted to give you more.”

He kissed you once more, tongue moving with yours in slow languid moves. Slowly withdrawing from you, you were both still sensitive and he felt nearly cold without being inside of you. He remained close on top of you, kissing over your neck and down your chest.

His lips gently sucked over your collarbone, moving lower and lower with every breath. He still held himself up with one of his arms, the other falling over your naked frame to grab at wherever he pleased. Hand smoothing down your waist, down to massaged at the sensitive skin of your thighs before moving back up again.

Raising his head, you watched through strands of his hanging hair as his swollen lips circled around your nipple. You felt sensitive all over, every nerve in your body on extremely high alert due to the man hovering over you that was making your head spin.

“What are you –” your voice was quiet once again, a subtle whine laced with the words when Harry sucked darkened marks into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“Let me give you one more,” his voice came out hot, mouth now kissing down your stomach. He rested his cheek on your skin, peering up at your through his eyelashes. “Please? I want to give you one more.”

You moaned breathlessly; the subtle throbbing of your core still apparent ever since he’d withdrawn from you. Murmuring his name into the air, you let your shoulders relax back into the plush mattress as his hands felt up the warm skin of your sides is slow soothing motions. “Give me one more.”

“G’na have to open those legs for me again,” his hands fell to your hips, readjusting himself so that he could lie his body on the mattress. You easily did as he’d said, allowing your knees to fall open and hit the bed. They didn’t stay there for very long, Harry grabbing a light hold of your ankle to place on his shoulder before kissing up your thigh.

Quiet curse was heard in the room when he caught sight of your swollen folds, a mix of both your arousals leaking down your skin.

He quickly caught the salty mix with his mouth, the sudden feeling of his tongue making you gasp with a small jolt. His hands were back on you, holding at your hips as he muttered to keep your thighs close around his head.

His tongue darted over your skin, tasting both of your releases with tantalizingly slow licks. He moved over your hole, a light push inside the warmth before withdrawing just as fast. He held your hips tightly, fingertips digging into the skin to no doubt leave little crescent moon shaped marks of his nails. Barely brushing over your clit, you’re hips were twitching up in search for more of him as the sensitivity seemed to be heightened.

He was working you up the way you knew he would.

Instead of diving right in, he gave you light, barely there touches of teasing licks and hot breaths to work you right up. The tip of his tongue brushed over your clit, circling it over the little bit of nerves in a way that had you calling his name in a breathless pant.

You hadn’t even noticed that one of your hands had found its way to pull at his hair, tugging at the thick strands at ever little touch of his tongue.

And just as you knew him to, he didn’t give you much warning before wrapping his lips around your clit and gave it a harsh suck. Your hips bucked in his touch, the pleasure of his touch coursing up to your head and down to your toes. Your heel dug into his shoulder, not at all caring that much at how tightly you were holding him.

It wouldn’t be long until your second orgasm.

His fingers dragged around your thighs, pushing through your wet folds as he pulled back to watch your slickness coat is fingers.

Lips back on the fleshiest parts of your thighs, he was kissing and sucking until the skin had been completely covered by his touch.

His fingers finally pushed inside of you, two of them maneuvering with skill into the perfect spots that hade you gripping onto him for dear life. Lips back over the bundle of nerves, he licked a slow strip with an obscene sound, before offering your clit all of his attention.

Your orgasm was definitely not far off from the way he moaned over you.

Your hand locked with his again, as you sought it out from where it was holding your thigh down. You caught Harry’s gaze, as he peered up at your through heavy eyelids with blown pupils and red cheeks.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze from where it rested on your leg, doubling his efforts with harsh sucks that had your hips bucking over his mouth.

His fingers were keeping a steady pace, curling up as he wanted nothing more than to have you unravel for him. You cried out his name, knowing how much he loved to hear you moan for him.

“Want you – gonna come for me, right?” He muttered, pulling away for a slight moment as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you. He couldn’t decide where to hold his gaze – from his wet fingers, to your heaving chest, to your completely blissed out face.

“Yeah,” you moaned dreamily, clenching tightly around his fingers as your orgasm was seconds away. “Harry, oh …!”

The heat in your stomach was unbearable, and suddenly you were floating from the mattress as your orgasm took over your body.

Harry’s eyes snapped to yours, watching them fall over him with heart shaped pupils before you were squeezing them shut in pure pleasure. He watched every move of your body, fingers keeping their motions inside of you until your shoulders relaxed back down onto the mattress.

“Shit,” he breathed against your skin, meeting the heavy breaths that were puffing from your chest. “That was…”

He sucked in fingers into his mouth, catching every last taste of you with one last lick over your swollen core that had you whimper in your sensitivity. Another loud kiss right over your hip, he was quickly crawling back up your body until he laying right by your side.

You rolled your head on the mattress, facing him. “That was what?” You quietly asked, smile easily gracing your features.

“Hot,” he breathed with a quiet laugh, “you’re so – beautiful, gorgeous, sexy –”

You pushed yourself to rest completely on your side, hand slide around his shoulder so that you could lean forward and connect your swollen lips.

He was holding you close against his body, a loving and intimate touch that only Harry could give you.

Exhausted seemed to settle into every muscle of your body but a nice kind of tired, like after a long day in the sun. Simply holding each other in a soft embrace, you stayed like that for a while. You couldn’t believe you had just had sex with your ex, with your ex who you were now apparently seeing again.

A little smile grew on your lips.

You couldn’t believe how much you still loved him.

Harry was tracing the line of your shoulder, a mindless action as he enjoyed the feeling of you next to him. He could tell that you were thinking about something, but he didn’t push it. He saw a little roundness to your cheeks, a little smile pulling at your mouth and it warmed his still rapidly beating heart.

After a moment you reluctantly lifted yourself away from Harry to stand from the bed. Limbs slipping from his, you went from feeling every inch of his skin to none at all.

“Where are you going,” he called with a groan, although followed your motions until his feet were planted over the floor.

“Washroom,” you called behind you, settling down on shaky legs as you made the short walk. You peered over your shoulder and where Harry was still sitting on the bed. “Can I borrow some clothes again?”

Harry smiled. “What’s mine is yours.”

You only laughed with a little shake to your head, taking a moment for yourself as you got yourself cleaned up. Moments later harry was by your side, pulling a warm hoodie over your head.

He was unable to keep his hands off of you.

Whether it was as you did your nightly routine and he was pressing his side against your, or when he hugged you from behind to kiss over the side of your face, or when his hand gripped yours to pull you back to bed.

The best was always lying close next to him, feeling his heartbeat steady with yours as sleep easily took over your tired bodies. His lips smoothed over the top of your head, telling you a quiet “goodnight, m’love.”

It was the best sleep the both of you had in months.

more to come .. thank you for reading and please let me know what you think <3

[mandoalorian]

How do you think Max and Alistair would act when the reader is pregnant? Tbh I don’t see Alistair as a jealous sibling he seems too sweet for that

Bundle of Joy [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader]

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 13+

Warnings: pregnancy, allusions to sex, pregnancy symptoms such as descriptions of morning sickness and loss of appetite, food and drink mention

Masterlist

You sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for what felt like a lifetime. You'd been feeling nauseous for the past two weeks. Max knew there was something wrong, but he hadn't been feeling too well either after you both visited a new seafood restaurant in the city. It made sense— you both getting ill. You shrugged it off as food poisoning, and it made sense at first. Max began to feel better within days, but you still weren't yourself. You were throwing up every morning, sometimes as early as three a.m. This morning was the worst.

"Oh honey," Max cooed, rubbing his eyes and following you into the en-suite bathroom where he kneeled by your side and held you as you threw up your dinner from the night before. "It's been weeks, maybe I should call the doctor?"

"N-no," you shook your head, wiping the tears that pricked your eyes and flushed the toilet. Max handed you a paper towel to wipe your mouth with, and dampened a washcloth to rest over your forehead. "I'll be fine." you reassured him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he helped you to your feet and guided you back into bed. He shut out the bathroom light and crawled in next to you, falling asleep within a matter of minutes. You, however, couldn't sleep. You stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever— pondering.

It wasn't until the morning light crept through the curtains and illuminated Max just enough for you to turn over and admire him. His snores were light and shallow and you watched as his chest rose and fell. It was the one time you could see him at peace, before the day consumed him with stress and work. As you took in his features, the curve of his nose and his disheveled dark blonde hair, a thought struck you.

It came out of nowhere. It was something you hadn't even considered. Could you be… pregnant? It would explain the nausea. Your hands cradled your stomach as you furrowed your eyebrows together, trying to work it out in your head. There was no way— you and Max always made sure to stay protected. You don't remember a time where you had forgotten to take your pill… but that's when it hit you. The night of New Years Eve. You had left Alistair with a sitter and it was yours and Max's first night alone together in months. So, you had both got very drunk very fast. The night was a blur, and so was the next morning, but you remembered the sex very clearly— with Maxwell, it was always memorable. Your intoxicated state meant there was no way of knowing for sure whether or not you had taken the pill. There was always going to be a chance that you had forgotten.

You couldn't get back to sleep that morning, the thoughts racing through your head. By 6 a.m., you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake your husband, and padded into your closet, finding a comfortable outfit to change into. You slipped into a pair of ballet pumps and grabbed your purse, throwing it over your shoulder. You walked to the pharmacy that wasn't too far from your home and purchased a pregnancy test. By the time you had come back, Maxwell and Alistair were already awake eating breakfast.

"Where did you go this morning?" Maxwell asked, sounding concerned. You sighed, slipping into the unoccupied seat next to Alistair and poured him a glass of orange juice.

"The pharmacy," you admitted, pointing to the paper bag on the counter. "I needed some fresh air. I got you some more vitamins." you told Max. A little white lie would do no harm until you had figured out what exactly was going on with your body. Maxwell nodded as he handed you the bowl of fruit he'd prepared while you were gone.

You began nudging at the melon medley. It was normally your favourite, and Max knew this, but you had completely lost your appetite. The smell of breakfast and Max's black coffee was knocking you sick again, and you couldn't even touch your food before you had to run to the bathroom to throw up.

"Is mommy okay?" Alistair whispered sadly, looking at Max.

Even Maxwell was concerned. He wasn't sure if you were okay, but he wasn't going to let his son worry about you. "She'll be fine." Maxwell reassured Alistair, ruffling his soft black hair affectionately.

You waited about an hour before you took the test, the anticipation killing you. Maxwell and Alistair were in the other room watching The Little Mermaid and playing with Lego. And here you were, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, waiting to see your result. You had taken Max's golden Cartier wristwatch into the bathroom with you, shakily setting the timer for three minutes. It beeped accordingly and you took a deep breath, slowly stalking towards the pregnancy test that was sat in the kitchen sink. Two lines. Positive.

You were pregnant. You and Max were going to be parents again. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you cradled your stomach, feeling nothing but love for the child you were bearing. You didn't know how you'd feel, but now you were filled with joy and happiness. Of course, the pregnancy wasn't planned, but you knew that no matter what, you'd love this child unconditionally.

Now you just had to tell Maxwell. You fumbled with your thumbs nervously, pacing around in circles. You found yourself checking the test multiple times, making sure it was still definitely positive. Every time you saw the two lines your heart swelled with love and excitement. You couldn't wait to tell Max. There was no way of judging his reaction, but he was your husband and you just couldn't keep it to yourself any longer. You slipped the test in the pocket of your oversized hoodie and walked into the living room.

You smiled when you saw Alistair and Maxwell sitting on the floor, playing together. "Mommy!" Alistair cried excitedly, waving you over. Despite you being Alistair's stepmother, it always warmed you when he called you mommy. Maxwell would always say how you were an amazing parent to Alistair, better than his own blood related mother, and your loving actions made Max into a better father. You were the one who had encouraged Maxwell to spend less time working and more time playing with his son— and now, Max wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey baby," you smiled. "What are you making?"

Alistair lifted up a multi-coloured and unfinished Lego house. "It's our house!" he exclaimed excitedly. You could barely see the resemblance, but still humoured the six year olds enthusiasm. "Daddy helped but I did most of it."

Maxwell was smiling to himself and you curled your finger, gesturing for Max to stand up and come over to you. He did so, willingly. "Everything okay?" Maxwell asked as you briefly pulled him to the corner of the living room.

"What were you smiling at?" you cooed, flattening the palms of your hands against his chest and smoothing down his shirt.

"I'm just so proud of him," Maxwell revealed with a blush, looking back at his son who was bopping along to 'Under The Sea' from The Little Mermaid. By the looks of it, he was pretending to be Sebastian, waddling around the living room pretending his fingers were crab claws.

"He's proud of you too," you whispered, wrapping your arms around Maxwell's waist and pulling yourself into a hug.

"There's something going on with you," Maxwell sensed, pressing a gentle kiss into your hair.

"You're right," you hummed, pulling away from him but not tearing your gaze away from his chocolate brown eyes. You dug your hand into your pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test, placing it in his hand. "I'm pregnant." you said with shaky exhale.

Maxwell didn't say anything at first. He looked down at the test, his eyebrows furrowed together like it was some kind of complex puzzle he was trying to work out. Then, he looked back at you, the same bewildered look written all over his face. And finally, he looked back down at the test. You wanted to burst into a fit of laughter at his expression. He put the test in his pants pocket and pulled you into a cuddle. "For real?" he whispered in disbelief, happy tears glazing his eyes.

"For real." you confirmed, nuzzling your head into his chest as he swayed his hips against yours.

"But- but when? And how?" Maxwell asked you.

"I'm not sure," you admitted with a sigh. "Maybe New Years Eve?"

Max's smile grew into a grin. "I'm so excited darling," he exclaimed, curling his finger around your chin and pulling you into a kiss. "I know it's not something we've really talked about, but when I see you with Alistair… and I see how amazing of a mother you are… it's hard not to imagine you carrying my child. I knew from the very start I wanted a family with you."

"I was worried," you huffed against your husband's lips. "I was afraid you'd freak out."

"Maybe once upon a time I'd freak out, sure," Maxwell chuckled. "But you showed me what it takes to be a good father. I'm not afraid anymore."

"I love you so much." you smiled, crinkles appearing in the corner of your eyes.

"I love you too honey."

You and Max decided to wait a little while to tell anyone about the pregnancy. You had been to two doctor's appointments, both confirming that you were, indeed, with-child. You even got your first scan, admiring your little peanut shaped baby like it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

"When are we going to tell Alistair?" you asked during the car ride home from the hospital. Maxwell was tapping his feet impatiently. It had been five months, you had started showing, and you and Max had just found out the gender of your baby.

"I say we tell him as soon as we get home," Max smirked, taking your hand in his.

"It's finally starting to feel real," you sigh with contentment.

"I'm so excited." Max revealed, pressing a kiss into your jaw.

You paid the sitter and grinned as you watched Alistair run into his father's arms. "Mommy! Daddy!" Alistair cried. "I missed you!"

"We missed you too baby," Maxwell grinned, picking his son up in his arms and carrying him into the kitchen. You followed the boys and Max set Alistair down on the counter. "Alistair, we have something important to tell you." Maxwell whispered, taking his son's small hands in his own.

"What is it?" Alistair questioned curiously.

"It's very exciting." Maxwell grinned, nodding knowingly.

"Disneyland?" Alistair gasped and you scrunched up your nose.

"No sweetie, not Disneyland." you giggle and watch as Alistair frowns. "No don't be upset!" you fish into your purse and bring out the sonogram, showing Alistair. "Do you know what this is?" Alistair shook his head, clearly confused. "It's a baby," you explained with a small smile. Maxwell pointed out the peanut shaped fetus and it only made Alistair look even more perplexed. "It's mommy and daddy's baby."

Alistair's eyes shot up and flicked between you and Max, his jaw dropping slightly. "Huh?" he asked and Max smirked.

"You're going to be a big brother Alistair," Maxwell grinned, pressing a kiss into Alistair's hair. "Isn't that exciting?"

"...Me? A big- a big brother?" Alistair bubbled.

"Yes Alistair, you," you giggled, pinching his chubby cheek. "You're going to have a little sister."

"A sister!?" Alistair gasped excitedly, kicking his legs against the kitchen counter. "I'm going to love her so much!" he squealed, his expressions almost animated as he put his hands over his mouth in surprise.

"She already loves you so much too Alistair!" you cooed, wrapping your arms around your son and pulling him into a tight hug.

"We're going to be best friends," Alistair announced proudly. "I'm going to build her a house- no, a palace out of Lego!"

"Oh Alistair, that's lovely," you giggle, helping him down from the kitchen counter.

"I love you baby sister!" he shouted as he waddled back into the living room. You could already hear the clashing sound as he got out the Lego.

You turned to Maxwell with a sheepish smile, your eyes widening slightly when you saw his appearance. His cheeks were rosy and his brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "What is it Maxie?" you ask quietly, resting your hand against his cheek.

"I spent so long not knowing what exactly I wanted in life," Maxwell revealed. "But this is it. This is what I was made for. This is what I want. Me, you, Alistair, and our little princess. Darling, I've never been happier."

Taglists— let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie

Maxwell Lord: @mrschiltoncat

[rosaliepostsstuff]

A bit emotional || G.W.

pairing: George Weasley x reader; brother-in-law!Fred x reader

summary: Emotions have been getting the best of Y/N lately and while George is away on a work trip, Fred helps her discover something.

word count: 2437

warnings: mentions of urine, mentions of food, pregnancy, brief mention of sex, talk of biological parenting

tags: @izzyyy-1​ ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @hufflepuff5972​ ; @pandaxnienke​ ; @wheezyweasleys​ ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins​ ; @starlightweasley​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​

Feedback means the world to me!!

It was early afternoon on a Saturday, you found yourself in the bathroom of your flat above the shop. You had been ready to take action – your hair up, comfy clothes on, sleeves rolled up. Cleaning the bathroom was your duty – part of the agreement the three of you made when you moved in with George and Fred a couple of years before – when you and George had gotten married. The three of you shared the house chores according to what each of you disliked the least and it worked. Well, usually.

The whole bathroom was an absolute mess. You had cleaned it thoroughly the week before, as usual. There were splash stains all over the mirror. You swore you could smell urine in the air the whole time, which later confirmed not to be a figment of your imagination – the floor around the toilet was covered with tiny dots of dried stains, accumulating every time those two went to pee, due to their heights. You looked at the hamper, the lid wasn’t closed properly, a pair of boxers hanging on its edge.

“Fred!! George!!” you shouted out. They knew you well, and they knew better than to test your patience when you used that tone and volume. Without a word, you heard one chair move in your living room, then someone got up from the couch a second later. They stepped through the small hallway carefully and peaked their heads through the bathroom doorway.

“Whose are those?” you asked flatly, pointing at the boxers, then turned to them and placed one hand on your hip.

“Mine,” Fred answered after a glance.

“Is it that hard to put them in properly?” you questioned as soon as he finished.

Fred bit his tongue, suppressing a comeback. He walked over to the hamper and fixed it.

“And who used the toiled last?” you continued, pointing at the open toilet lid with a nod and folded your arms on your chest.

George avoided your gaze, walking over to the toiled to close the lid.

 The bathroom situation didn’t stay long on your mind, though, nor did it affect the atmosphere in your shared flat. In the two weeks that followed, however, similar, smaller situations happened. For example, when it was Fred’s turn to cook, he added too much salt for your liking, but the way he likes his food – again.

“You know well that you can add some more salt on your plate, but I can’t make it less salty, can I?!” you complained.

A week later, George had to leave for a work trip. It was his turn, while Fred stayed at home to keep an eye on the shop.

You dreaded the day he was supposed to leave and you tried not to let it show. You cursed yourself as you wiped fresh tears with your sleeve, looking at George who was checking if he took everything before saying goodbye. You were angry with yourself at getting so upset – this wasn’t the first time you’d been apart, and it was only 4 days. You were married, but not tied up together, you were still separate people. Sure, you always missed each other, but you never got this dramatic.

“Heey, baby, what’s up..?” George asked after looking up from his bag, noticing your tears. He closed the distance between the two of you in a few long steps and wiped your tears with his thumbs as you wrapped your arms around his middle automatically.

“It’s- it’s nothing…” you still tried to stop more tears from coming and pressed your face to his chest as he embraced you tightly. “I’ll just miss you, you know…” you tried to sound casual.

“I’ll miss you too, darling,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His tone was sincere but slightly puzzled, he wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction. “It’s just 4 days and then I’ll be back,” he told you softly.

You cherished his embrace for a little bit longer before you said your goodbyes and let him apparate.

The first day and a half passed somewhat peacefully. You tried to focus on your own work and then find something to occupy yourself with once you were back at home. At least you weren’t completely alone – one could never feel alone with Fred around.

I was mid-afternoon, you had both just come back from work. You were stood in the kitchen, looking into the fridge without much interest. Fred was fixing some kind of sandwich for himself. You closed the fridge door then looked over at the mysterious mixture he poured over the sandwich and scrunched your nose up in disgust.

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Smells disgusting, I’m getting nauseous…” you said, turning your back to him to put the kettle on.

“I dunno, smells good to me,” he stated simply, licking some of it off his finger and after a few seconds added “maybe you’re just pregnant.”

And then it hit you. How could you not think of it? How is it that when you’re trying not to get pregnant, the smallest things can seem like pregnancy symptoms to you, but now, you had missed all of them?

George and you had stopped using birth control about a month ago. You weren’t necessarily trying for a baby – you wanted one, sure, and figured the time was right. But both of you believed it would just happen sooner or later while you continue with your usual sex routine. You didn’t want to get too hung up on this and end up like some other couples you’ve heard of. For it to happen during your next cycle, however?

Fred turned to you, confused, after not hearing you get back at him for that joke. You turned around to look at him with a calm expression.

“You know, I might be,” you said seriously, trying not to freak out.

Fred’s eyebrows shot up immediately, his eyes open wide and he started nodding slowly, processing the information.

 You walked out of the bathroom to see Fred leaning against the wall, biting his lip. He looked at you right away expectantly. You walked next to him and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

“5 minutes,” you told him, and he followed after you, sitting down.

“Did you… do you want to..?” he trailed off and you looked up at him. “What do you want it to say?”

“Oh,” you looked back down at your hands. “Both is fine, I guess. I mean, we were kind of trying. Pretty stupid of me to not add 2 and 2 together earlier…” you bit your bottom lip.

Fred nodded and put his arm around your shoulder, then glanced at the watch on his hand and took a deep breath.

 “Positive,” you said to Fred, who didn’t know the meaning of the two lines. “All three,” you added, placing the last stick back down.

Your eyes started watering and with a smile, you looked up at Fred, who was judging your reaction. You threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly. “I’m pregnant!”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!!” he exclaimed with a chuckle, lifting you up in a hug.

“Hang out with me tonight?” you asked after he placed you down. You had a feeling nothing would occupy you tonight, nothing else would keep your mind off of the fact that you were pregnant and were not able to tell your husband yet.

“You know you’re my favourite brother-in-law, right?” you smiled at him charmingly and chuckled, the remnants of your happy tears still making your eyes shine.

“I’ll believe you when you say that again, in front of Bill.”

 “So, what now?” Fred questioned, well into the evening, as the two of you were lounging in the living room. “Will you move out?”

“You’ve been waiting for that, weren’t you?” you laughed.

“As long as you keep sending me your baked goodies,” he quipped back.

“I mean, I guess. We’ll probably stay here a bit longer, we still have like eight months to go?” you said, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “We’ll start looking for a house, the flat isn’t big enough to raise a baby,” you started counting. “You’d want us out of here after a few nights of the baby crying anyway and we were bound to move out someday.” You let your head fall back onto the rest, absentmindedly running your hand over your belly. “… find our own, family home,” you added.

“Mhm…” he hummed, sipping his tea.

“I’ll miss you, Fred,” you blurted out and felt tears coming up to your eyes.

No matter how many times Fred peeved you, he was a great friend, an amazing flatmate you’d never be bored with, and the best brother in law. And it was true, you’d miss sharing your daily life with him, bumping into him in the kitchen at 3 am on your way to grab some water.

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. His nature told him to tease you, but he knew you were being genuine. And he’d miss you too. He couldn’t have hoped for a better wife for his brother.

 You were restless from the moment you woke up, on the day George was supposed to come back. Your day at work seemed incredibly long and when you got back home, every sound seemed like George apparating inside.

You sat down on the couch, trying to read a book, but ended up reading the same page over and over again. You still didn’t know what you had read and your knee kept bouncing up and down.

Finally, ‘POP!’, you heard that sound and shut your book without marking the page and threw it onto the coffee table.

“Y/N, I’m home, darling,” George called out, placing his bags down in the hall. You met him at the entrance to the living room and jumped into his arms with excitement.

You breathed in his familiar smell and tightened your arms around his shoulders, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Good to have you back,” you mumbled into the fabric of his sweater and pulled back a bit to look at him.

“Good to be back,” he replied with a chuckle, looking at you adoringly before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips.

“Let’s sit down,” you told him after pulling away, dragging him to the couch by the hand before he could continue to pepper your face with kisses.

The moment you sat down, George was suspicious of you. You weren’t acting that weird but something was off.

You, on the other hand, suddenly felt nervous. For 48 hours you couldn’t wait to tell him, but now you didn’t know how.

“What’s up, love?” he asked you, shifting closer and squeezing your hand in his and placing his other on your thigh comfortingly.

“I have something to tell you,” you looked up at him, his eyes expectant. And you felt so lucky.

You looked into the eyes of the man you loved. The man who loved you. It felt like looking into his eyes when you were standing at the wedding arch, about to become united for eternity to come. You were reminded of all the love you shared, all the moments from your past that led you to where you were and it felt so right.

Just as you started to feel the lump in your throat again and your eyes getting wet, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the confusion and slight concern growing on George’s face.

“I’m pregnant,” you said before he could ask what was going on.

His grasp on your hand and thigh loosened momentarily as initial shock washed over him, you could almost see the information being processed in his eyes. And when it did, a huge smile broke on his face, but you didn’t get to see it for long before he pulled you into a tight hug.

“We’re having a baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder after a moment, then pulled away just enough to be able to bring your lips together. The kiss was passionate and full of emotion, there wasn’t much tenderness to it. You stopped when both of you were grinning too much to call it a kiss.

George pulled you down to lie on the couch with him, with a content sigh. You giggled, snuggling closer to him.

“You’re pregnant,” he said again, familiarizing himself with it. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he added, looking at you.

“You are,” you confirmed with a dopey smile.

“We’re gonna have a baby, that is so…” he looked up at the ceiling, starting his contemplations.

“You and I are going to have a child, that is crazy to think about. D’you know what I mean? Obviously, I’ve always wanted children with you and I knew how- parenting- worked, but- before it was a reality I didn’t think about it this way. I’m going to be the father of your baby. You’re going to have my baby. This baby is going to be equally mine as it’s going to be yours- and-“ he paused to take a deep breath, “-when you think about how it happened…”

You both chuckled at his existential thoughts and what they ultimately came down to. Though, you couldn’t help but agree with his rambles.

“So how..?” George started a question, bringing one of his hands to your lower abdomen.

“Oh, you know how I was acting weird lately. Fred then made some stupid comment and it just clicked in my head, I did a few muggle pregnancy test to make sure.”

You were quiet for a bit, enjoying each other’s embrace as George continued stroking your belly delicately.

“Y/N… do you-… do you think I’ll do alright?” he asked quietly. “As a dad..? I mean, I’m hardly responsible for myself…”

You looked up at him then brought your hand to stroke his cheek reassuringly and make him look at you, hoping to convey your message in the look of your eyes.

“You’re going to be a wonderful dad, the best one. And you are responsible, you test the boundaries often but with things that really matter – you’re one of the most responsible people I know, love. I would trust you with my life, with everything. And I couldn’t imagine a better dad for my children.” You kissed his cheek and he brought your body even closer to him, tearing up a bit himself.

“Can’t wait,” you added in a whisper into the skin of his neck.

[aurumacadicus]

a 5 canon post about pregnant!Tony??? 👉👈 I just cant never get over him being so adorable

I waffled on which pairing for hours lmao

“There’s no way I can possibly be pregnant,” Tony declares. “I’m old, I’m injured, and my cycles haven’t been regular since Afghanistan. Clearly this is menopause!” “Tony,” Pepper sighs, rolling her eyes. “You’re vomiting all the time. You’re craving food I’ve never even heard off. You got nauseous because you smelled onions frying. What else could it be?” Tony scoffs. “The flu? Mid-life crisis? I’m old enough for one of those. It’s why my boyfriend looks like a beautiful brick house.” Pepper raises an eyebrow at him. “Weren’t you telling me that you’ve been sleeping with a super soldier and he’s virile?” “Did I say that?” Tony asks, bewildered. “I used the word ‘virile?’ Gross.” “To be fair, I think you called on day three of your fuck-a-thon and were half delirious from dehydration,” Pepper replies sympathetically. Tony opens his mouth like he’s about to say something cutting, then closes it again. “Ah. It’s coming back to me.” But! She’s got him thinking. He’s absolutely certain that he’s not pregnant, but perhaps he’s having one of those false alarms where his body only thinks it’s pregnant. It’s been known to happen. “Congratulations, Mr. Stark!” his doctor tells him cheerfully. “You’re pregnant!” Tony screams. “...Ms. Potts?” her secretary asks nervously when Pepper stops mid-sentence. “Are you okay?” “Is this how Tony feels when I’m on the war path?” she breathes, and then kicks off her heels and begins sprinting for the elevators. “TELL TONY I’M CHECKING OUT HIS HOLDINGS IN CALIFORNIA AND I’LL BE UNREACHABLE FOR NINE MONTHS!” “Ms. Potts?!” her secretary chokes out.

“Babe,” Steve says cheerfully, and then “GKKH?!” when instead of the hug he was expecting, Tony goes straight for his throat. “YOU DID THIS TO ME,” Tony bellows, shaking him. “I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS!” “I just told the reporter your butt looks like a peach emoji I was just repeating what Jim and Natasha was saying,” Steve chokes. “I don’t even have the hips to give birth! My doctor was talking about a c-section WHAT ABOUT MY ABS STEVEN,” Tony thunders, continuing to shake him. “What abs,” Steve chokes, and then adds a squeaky ‘oh shit’ when Tony freezes, shocked, before he shakes him with more vigor. Eventually Clint takes pity on Steve and pulls Tony off of him, and then carefully restrains him so he can’t leap on Steve again. Steve sucks in as much air as he can, then turns his attention back to Tony, eyes wide. “What do you mean, give birth? Tony, are you pregnant?!” Tony about froths at the mouth. “YES AND IT’S YOUR FAULT. I’M GONNA BE FAT AND UGLY AND I CAN’T EAT FRIED ONIONS STEVE.” “Oh, I know you love fried onions,” Steve answers immediately, sympathetic. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Tony bursts into tears. “I’m gonna have a baby and I can’t eat fried onions,” he blubbers. “Oh, this is fucking weird, I’m out,” Clint mutters, letting Tony go and scuttling away. Steve watches him go, feeling vaguely betrayed that Clint is just leaving him with his partner while he’s crying, but quickly pushes it to the back of his mind as he pulls Tony into his arms. “What’s the plan, then?” he asks softly. “I’m having this baby no take-backs,” Tony mumbles into his chest. Steve can’t help but smile. “Okay.” He presses a kiss to the crown of Tony’s head. They have a lot to talk about, but he figures right now they can just bask in the knowledge they have a baby on the way. “...What do you mean, you told a reporter that my butt looks like a peach emoji?” Tony asks, tone very clearly conveying ‘there is a right answer and the probability you will be correct is less than zero.’ Or maybe the basking will have to wait, Steve thinks miserably.

Tony assures everyone that no one will have to follow his diet out of solidarity even though Steve is, and everyone is pleased to hear this, because almost all of them main-line coffee and none of them like to cook. Even Steve’s disappointed frown isn’t enough to make them even pretend to think about agreeing with him and joining Tony in this part of their baby journey. Tony walks into the common kitchen for the lovely smoothie bowl Steve has started making for his breakfasts, breathing in a deep lungful of the aroma of the coffee because if he can’t drink it he can at least smell it. The team only has time to hear him make a strange gagging sound before Thor grabs the table and pulls the entire thing out of the way before Tony projectile vomits across the kitchen. “Oh,” Steve says, blinking in surprise, as Tony stares down at himself in mortification. He sets Tony’s smoothie bowl aside and rushes over to him. “Okay. No coffee smell anymore either. Okay. This is all okay. Let’s go get you cleaned up! JARVIS, order food for the penthouse kitchen. I’ll, uh, clean this up when I get back,” he adds to everyone hastily, because Tony looks like he’s about to cry. “...How did you know to move breakfast?” Sam asks Thor accusingly. Thor scoffs at him. “As if I’ve never been around a pregnant person. Loki’s been pregnant at least--well, I choose not to think about it.” Bruce and Natasha are kind enough to clean up for Steve, luckily, so he flashes them a harried smile as he grabs Tony’s smoothie bowl and leaves again. They frown after him, unsettled. “We want you to come back to the common kitchen for meals,” Natasha says, and then, “Stop screaming it’s just me.” “WILL YOU GUYS STOP POPPING UP WITHOUT WARNING I ALMOST THREW THE ENTIRE FUCKING COUCH AT YOU,” Steve bellows. “We’ve decided we’re all having a baby and the coffee has been removed from the common kitchen, along with onions, mature cheese, and that oat milk that Bruce likes,” Natasha continues, ignoring him. “You will name the child after me, of course.” “You can duke it out with the rest of the team to see who the baby gets named after,” Tony says, waddling toward the elevator. “Why would you say that when you know we’re not naming the baby after any of them?” Steve asks as Natasha forgoes the elevator to leap directly into the vents. She’ll get to the common room faster that way. “To take their minds off of how they can’t have coffee around me, and also I enjoy the entertainment,” Tony replies.

With the downsides of pregnancy are the upsides, of course. The entire team vibrates the moment Tony says they can feel the baby kicking, and since Steve has already felt it, they get to have their turns now. “Make me a parfait,” Tony tells Steve as Steve swiftly yoinks him from the couch, because the rest of the team is now engaging in fisticuffs to be the first to feel his stomach. “Chocolate or vanilla?” Steve replies gamely, sneaking his hand onto Tony’s stomach and pressing a kiss to his cheek for every movement he feels. “Chocolate!” Tony chirps immediately, because Steve’s been on top of his diet and he rarely lets him splurge like this. “DON’T BRING YOUR FIGHT INTO THE KITCHEN,” Steve barks when Clint and Sam roll inside it. They both glare at him. “You’re so bossy. It’s not even your body,” Sam mutters petulantly, but then they both obediently roll back across the threshold. “You really are so bossy,” Tony agrees. Steve frowns at him, unimpressed. “Do you want a vanilla parfait?” “No!” Tony yelps, then pouts when Steve raises his eyebrows at him before turning to make some chocolate pudding. To absolutely everyone’s surprise, Clint wins the fight and gets to be the first to lay his hands on Tony’s belly. He’s absolutely giddy about it, even as he teases, “Of course, I’m technically the fourth, since Pepper and Rhodes have--” “Oh, Rhodey hasn’t yet,” Tony says, and then yelps in surprise when Clint backpedals so hard that he falls ass over teakettle. “Clint?!” “I’m not touching anything until Colonel Rhodes does,” Clint sputters, and everyone else quickly follows suit to agree with him. Tony blinks at them in confusion. “Um? Okay, but he won’t be able to come visit for a couple of weeks, since he can’t just take leave willy-nilly, so--” “The baby will still be there to feel kicking so it’s fine,” everyone assures him hastily.

“You look like a fuckin’ beach ball,” Rhodey says, and Tony actually sniffles a little before Rhodey wraps his arm around him and swings him in a circle, so he giggles instead. “Why did I get texts from Natasha and Thor telling me to hurry up and feel your belly? It’s creepy, by the way.” “I said they could feel the baby kick but when they found out you hadn’t yet, none of them wanted to go before you,” Tony complains immediately. “And I don’t know why.” Rhodey nods to himself. “Nice to know they respect me--” “They fear you,” Steve mutters from behind his newspaper. “And so do I.” “--But did you tell them that it freaks me out and I actually don’t want to feel the baby kicking?” Rhodey finishes, giving Steve some approving side-eye, and Steve doesn’t even want to know how he can get side-eyed with approval. “They want to hear it from you,” Tony admits. “Because they didn’t trust that I’m not lying for my own entertainment.” Rhodey leans back to stare at him, stunned, before he asks, “Why would they think that?” “Because Tony told them he’d name our baby after the winner of a fight even though we had already discussed baby names and none of them included the team,” Steve answers before Tony can come up with a fib. “Who won?” Rhodey asks. “Surprisingly, it was a tie between Sam and Natasha, and we’re not sure why they called it a draw,” Tony answers. “I still think Samtasha is a great name.” Steve scowls at him. “Will you stop winding them up? You’re pregnant so they’re taking their frustration out on me. I’ve gotten scolded more now than I did in the fucking army.” “You deserve to be scolded,” Tony retorts. “You ate my last jelly donut so I deserve this.” “I didn’t think I could possibly love you more, man, but I think I do,” Rhodey tells him fondly as he watches Steve throw his hands up in disgust. “Please lie and tell them I felt your baby kicking.” “It won’t be difficult, everyone’s eager,” Tony scoffs, and then begins waddling to the elevator. “Well, no use making them wait. Come along! Chop chop!” “Fuck, he’s waddling,” Rhodey wheezes, clutching his chest. Steve nods sympathetically. “It’s adorable. I don’t know how I’ll cope when he’s too big to move as easily.” “God, you’re already unbearably in love with him now, glad I won’t be here,” Rhodey tells him.

Bonus: Tony names the baby Morgan after Pepper’s weird uncle because Pepper was the reason he even found out he was pregnant. Sam and Natasha seethe over it until Tony proudly declares that Morgan’s middle name will be Samtasha or Nasamsa, whichever they agree on. “You can’t fucking name her that Tony what the fuck,” they sputter.

[brockadoodles]

surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess​ too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go! 

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!! 

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.  

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result. 

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different? 

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner. 

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally. 

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would. 

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again. 

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet. 

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive. 

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true. 

------------ 

A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant. 

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise. 

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside. 

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck. 

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?” 

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his. 

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch. 

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and  pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand. 

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs. 

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips. 

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. 

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband. 

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch. 

“You alright?” He spoke. 

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad. 

----------- 

You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey. 

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad. 

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you. 

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him. 

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks. 

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still. 

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned. 

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate. 

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention. 

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you. 

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.” 

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy. 

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him. 

--------

Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up. 

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming.  If you’re wondering what the next note consists of,  When you get to the rink, check your right glove. 

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said. 

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility. 

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it. 

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do.  You’re probably wondering why everyone is late,  Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced. 

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun.  If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him. 

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag. 

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best.  Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.  

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench. 

 He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids. 

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you. 

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you. 

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him. 

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby. 

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?” 

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face. 

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at. 

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him. 

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him. 

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car. 

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?” 

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car. 

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.  

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise. 

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas. 

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus. 

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard. 

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside. 

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly. 

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal. 

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea. 

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him. 

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many. 

[spiderlilyserendipity]

made of gold (reader x myg) (*SFW*)

can be read as gender neutral!

tags: fluff, dating, insecurity , slight angst, happy ending, can be read as gender neutral, reader wears a bit of makeup

warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

💛💛💛

the liquor had gotten to your head.

your boss had insisted on a round of drinks tonight to celebrate the project that had just wrapped up, but no one in the team was in the mood. but knowing his head-strong approach, all your co-workers merely glanced at each other unhappily when the clock struck 5 and got up to follow him.

fast forward three hours and here you were, drunk off your ass in a neighbourhood far from your own. it was friday and you didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow but you weren’t in the mood to sit in a taxi for the half hour it would take to get back home. you were feeling nauseous as it was, stomach uneasy from too many cups of coffee and the all-nighter you’d pulled in preparation for today’s presentation. it had all gone well, it always did knowing your team. but you were a worrier, and the last few weeks of working on this project had done bad things to you. forget the possible promotion your boss had hinted at, you just wanted to get by without liver damage for the rest of the weekend.

“hurry, hurry.” you told the first cab driver that pulls over. you glanced nervously over your shoulder, hoping your boss doesn’t spot your face standing on the sidewalk. you had made up such an elaborate lie to get away before they left the bar for a second round.

drunk and tired, you didn’t realize the address you told the driver isn’t your own.

you just got out at the corner and pay, bowing goodbye absently. then you turned around, fumbling when the passcode for the front door doesn’t work.

“what the fuck.” you muttered under your breath. you sighed and pressed a hand to your forehead. don’t say i forgot the passcode.

“y/n?”

you turned around, wondering why your female roommate’s voice was so deep today, or why she was just getting home now, too. but then you felt it. two warm, sturdy hands that clasped your upper arms. and then you saw them. dark, gentle eyes, hidden under a baseball cap and a mask, but you would recognize those eyes anywhere. you smiled. “when did you get here, baby?”

yoongi cleared his throat, cheeks turning a bit pink. in your drunkenness, you forgot yoongi isn’t baby, not yet. it had only been about three months of flirting between you two, more phone calls and top-secret dinner dates than anything serious. you understood that. yoongi’s a big man, and you were just lucky enough to have met him through a mutual friend.

you were simple and he was charming, but for whatever reason, he looked at you like you’re made of gold.

“this is where i live, y/n-ssi. remember?” yoongi reminded you lightly. your mouth fell open dramatically. ah. you fucked up. no wonder you’d felt a little funny telling the driver your address.

“oh. oh!” you blurted, looking around quickly. your eyes searched for any lingering people, cameras in bushes, that type of thing. suddenly, you felt a lot more sober. “shit. i’m sorry yoongi-ssi. let me just—”

you pulled up an app on your phone, ready to call your roommate to come get you instead of risking lingering around and being caught. but before you could do that, yoongi’s hand gently tapped your shoulder. you turned and he was standing with the door half-open. “just come in.” he said, hand trailing down your arm to take your hand in his.

blushing like a teenager on their very first walk of shame, you follow him past the lobby to the elevators. you can’t help but be a little shocked at all the marble and sleek steel around you. of course you knew of bts before you met yoongi, but you worked a very busy corporate job that made it hard to have hobbies. but even with all the small promotions you had gotten in the last ten years, you knew you would never afford luxury like this. min yoongi was rich rich. you realize.

when you glance at him, you suddenly feel nervous. you had been upright with him since day one about keeping the flirting polite and secret. you had a good job of your own and were very independent. yoongi liked that, he’d told you multiple times. you both liked to take relationships slow, mature and sensible adults as you were. but now you’d done it. you’d showed up and invaded his space, without the two of you ever discussing “dating”. as far as you knew, you were just another fling of this big superstar. perhaps you were making him uncomfortable? you two hadn’t even held hands until now.

you looked down at your clasped hands. yoongi was looking at something on his phone to bide the ride up to his floor. he was dressed in simple black sweats and a t-shirt but there was a rolex on his wrist. if you moved your wrist just a little, the cold sweat on your body would smudge the glass. are those diamonds? like real fucking diamonds? you wondered, staring at the shining jewels around the glass.

“something wrong, y/n-ssi?” yoongi asked. you jolted, pulling your hand back.

“n-no! nothing at all!” you replied a beat too late, mind still fuzzy. man, you really needed a nap.

yoongi looked down, where his rolex-clad hand dangled by his side. then he pulled his mask down, chewing his upper lip. “do you want me to drop you home?”

just the mention of getting in a car had you feeling nauseous. his home was even further from your place than the bar had been. and now that you know that min yoongi is rich rich, you can’t risk it. god, what if i threw up on his, like, hand-crafted leather seats or something?

the elevator dinged and slid open to reveal yoongi’s floor.

you followed him quietly down the long, marble hallway to the very last door. yoongi’s apartment. he glanced at you as he tapped the numbers into the electronic lock. you looked away sharply at the plant outside his neighbour’s house instead. you hadn’t seen the code, so why did you feel so guilty?

“sorry to intrude.” you said as you enter his home. yoongi didn’t reply, just nudged the pair of guest slippers towards you with his foot. you took off your shoes, watching yoongi with a bit of awe as he strode into the house and turned on the lights. was his back always that broad?

“what did you do today?” you asked, cringing at how it sounds like a question a partner would ask.

the sound of the fridge opening and closing answered you. a second later, yoongi appeared behind you. he lightly tapped your elbow as he came around you to sit on the large sofa. you followed, sitting down at the edge of your seat.

“i worked in the studio today. we’re preparing for our new album.” yoongi answered in short but polite sentences. he opened a can of beer in his hand. “how was yours? you mentioned you had a presentation today.”

you flushed. you couldn’t believe he remembered that, you had told the deadline for your project that weeks ago. “it was good. we went for drinks afterwards.” you explained, your leg bouncing at your side. “what do you usually do when you get home?”

yoongi set the can on the coffee table. he leaned into the sofa, facing you. “depends on the schedule we had that day. if i’m tired i’ll just eat, wash up, and go to bed. if i’m feeling good, i do all of that plus a drink or two.”

“you feel good today?” you asked, your heart jumping to your throat when he smiled against the cushion.

“yes.” yoongi answered, eyes not leaving yours. “i do.”

you cleared your throat. a notification popped up and you glanced down at your phone, happy for a split second away from yoongi’s eyes that make you feel hot inside. your roommate was asking where you were. “my roommate can come get me soon.”

“i’ll order us something to eat. text her once we’re done eating.”

you nodded numbly, looking at the can of beer on the table rather than at yoongi. alcohol really was the bane of your existence. you were so embarrassed to look this way in front of yoongi.

you and yoongi engaged in some more small talk once he ordered food. he asked you what you would like to watch on netflix and handed you the remote to put it on. in the meantime, he said he would go get your food. you felt embarrassed when he said your food. it was a reminder that you showed up uninvited and that he was probably just too nice to kick you out.

your sadness seemed to amplify the tiredness. without knowing, you drifted off in the few minutes between when you put the show on and yoongi’s return.

when you woke, there was something soft but firm in your face like a pillow. it smelled like laundry detergent and feels warm and cozy. you buried your face into it, sighing in comfort. a moment later, you felt fingertips gently card through your hair. was that your roommate pulling you in for one of her random cuddle sessions?

you adjusted again, pushing yourself up against your pillow. you were about to drift back asleep when a deep voice filled your ears. “do you want to eat yet?” yoongi asked.

you startled, sitting up as fast as you could. you looked down, horrified. you were laying on top of yoongi’s chest, your head having been tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. yoongi, who had been scrolling on his phone until now, turned his phone off at your worried expression. “what is it, y/n-ssi?”

you grabbed your own phone off the coffee table to check the time. it’s 10:30 now. your roommate was probably asleep by now. and here you were, still drunk and laying on top of a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend yet. shit, shit, shit.

“i’m sorry. i really need to leave.” you said, climbing off yoongi. your eyes catch on an unopened pizza box on the armchair next to the sofa, feeling extremely guilty. this was terrible. you ruined everything.

yoongi was kind, too kind for you. he took you in despite the risk of cameras catching you outside his apartment. he bought you dinner just for you to fall asleep and not let him eat it. your own place was too far from here, a taxi would cost a ton. and on top of it all, you weren’t even dating. what the hell were you supposed to do now?

“i’ll drop you.” yoongi’s voice was back to normal, no longer sleepy. as expected, he didn’t try to make you stay. whether that was out of courtesy or just because you were annoying to him, it burned. “but aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

on cue, your stomach grumbled.

yoongi laughed. “sit down, i’ll warm some up for us.”

the two of you ate quietly, awkwardly.

when you were done, you stood up. fuck it, you would have to pay the big taxi fare and endure the nausea. you couldn’t bother yoongi anymore. so you said a quick thanks for dinner without looking him in the eye, ready to run for it.

“y/n.” yoongi’s voice stopped you. “are you sure you want to go home?”

yoongi’s cheeks were pink when he looked at you. he scratched the back of his neck. “you can spend the night here, if you like.” when your eyes widened, his did, too. “i have a guest room. a guest room with a bathroom and everything.”

still drunk and crushing too hard on min yoongi, you smiled. “okay.”

but as you took a step towards him, you nearly slipped on the polished surface of the hallway. you groaned as he caught you, embarrassed. you were going to kill your boss for making you drink this much.

steadily, yoongi guided you to the guest bedroom and sat you on the bed. you wait for him to return and when he does, it’s with a packet of makeup wipes and a brand-new toothbrush still in its pack. purple. you noticed as he set the latter on the duvet. interesting.

you startled when his hand cupped your face, guiding you back to look at him. “close your eyes.” he whispered, face only a few inches from yours. you let him wipe off the light makeup you wore every day to work. when you opened your eyes, yoongi was giving you that same look from earlier. like you were something special, something whose true value only he knows. like you were made of gold.

your eyes fell to his lips. you inhaled, ready to take your chances.

yoongi closed the space, kissing you sweetly. his hands cupped your face, and yours wound around his broad back. it felt perfect.

when you separated, the two of you were breathless. seeing each other’s flushed faces, you laughed together.

when you come back from borrowing yoongi’s shower, the lights in the house were off except for yoongi’s room. he smiled as you slid into bed beside him. he reached over you to turn the lights off, then pulled you in against his side. your heart fluttered when you felt him tuck the duvet in around you.

“yoongi?” you asked. under your ear, his heartrate got a little faster. he must’ve thought you were asleep. “we’re—we’re a thing right?” you ventured, hoping all of this was real. that min yoongi wasn’t the kind of guy who could do this for every fling.

yoongi laughed under his breath. “obviously, baby.” he replied, kissing the top of your head. you smiled as you fall asleep beside him.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound IV”

Taylor opens her eyes, just once, then closes them immediately. The entire room is spinning again. Her eyes are glued together, her vision blurry. She should’ve taken an Advil before bed. She should’ve prevented this. With a loud groan, she turns around in bed, the blanket only covering one half of her body. She swallows once, can obviously feel how dry her throat is. Taylor wants to move, wants to get up and tell herself that this is a new day, a new beginning, a new chance. All of these positive affirmations that she’s been growing up with. But today, she can’t. Maybe it was the late night whiskey while being all alone that was a bad idea. Maybe it was taking step closer to Joe and his family, which truly has been a bad idea after all. 

Taylor takes another deep breath, holds her hand. She’s tired. Emotionally even more than physically. She slowly sits up. A stinging pain in her head keeping her from moving further. She looks to the side, could’ve sworn that she ensured to have a water bottle next to her bed. But the only thing she finds on the nightstand next to her is the whiskey glass. Almost empty. Disgusted at herself, Taylor moves her legs to dangle down the left side of the bed. She just sits upright, feels how dizzy she still is. When she was twenty- three and the world was against her, Taylor would always feel a sense of direction deep within her. As bad as it was, and as destructive as her dealing mechanisms may have been - she always knew this was just a phase. Just a bad month, a bad occurrence. A bad relationship. But now, at age 32, she doesn’t feel a sense of direction anymore. Even more so, she feels like she’s been on the right path. For a long time. Until she decided to leave it. Decided to go so incredibly wrong. All of that, while being a mother. Taylor swallows, stands up on the soft carpet on her bedroom floor. Barefoot and with nothing but her oversized sleeping shirt, Taylor makes her way down the stairs. Her eyes immediately fall onto the big window fronts. With swollen eyes and dried mascara on her cheek, she can’t help but smile tiredly. The world is white. Taylor can already see Eleanor before her eyes, having woken up hours ago and excitedly jumping around the Christmas tree. She’s happy it has snowed. She’s happy Eleanor is with Joe and his family. Where there’s more happiness. Where she can make these happy childhood Christmas memories that Taylor always wanted for her little girl. Even before she was born. 

Taylor reaches for the blue coffee mug on the top shelf in the kitchen. She quickly turns on the coffee machine and waits silently for the warm brew to enter her cup. Maybe, just maybe, Eleanor is happier staying with Joe and Naomi, and Elizabeth and Richard. Not with her, right now, on this day. She doesn’t know how to be a mother when deep inside, she’s the lost teenage girl again. She’s never gone through this scenario when becoming a mother. She’s never been prepared that something might hit her that would absolutely numb her from being Eleanor’s mommy. From putting on a fake smile, just to be there for Eleanor. Taylor swallows the hot beverage, knows even without looking into the mirror how horrible she looks. Her shoulder long hair curly and in all directions, mascara under her eyes, bangs all messed up. She slowly grabs her phone, tabs two times to open the chat with Joe. She stares at their last exchanged messages for a few seconds. And she swallows again. 

I can’t wait to have you two here, see you soon. 

How ironic, that she actually felt like he had other reasons to invite her over. Other reasons than to finally move on from her. 

Hey, Merry Christmas. I woke up not feeling great and don’t want to risk anything, so I think I’ll be staying home today. I’ll call later to speak to E. Merry Christmas to your family, give E a kiss from me. 

Taylor drops her phone on the marble counter, doesn’t even care if the fall was a bit too harsh. She then grabs her coffee mug and wanders up the stairs again. This time though, she doesn’t go back to her messed up bed and the empty whiskey glass that is waiting for her like a cloud of guilt, in the middle of her house. Instead, she walks straight to the piano room. With bare legs, she slowly sits down on the little chair right in front of the massive piano. For a second, she just sits there, then lifts the piano lid slowly. She doesn’t even move, just takes a last sip of her coffee before placing the mug right on top of the piano. Her fingers slowly brush each key, low undefined sounds coming from the instrument. She’s never been good at life. But this was all she’s had. All she could really get right. All she will ever understand. 

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? 

Taylor begins to follow this voice inside of her. Without thinking too much, she lets her hands do the work. Wanders from key to key, until there’s a melody that speaks for her.

 ____________________

“Mommy, I also got the new tonniebox that I wanted. And daddy and me also read me the note that Santa left for me. Santa wrote a note, just for me!” the little girl babbles into her mother’s ears. Taylor, who’s still just in her PJs, sits on the sofa now. Coffee number three in her hands, her hair still as messed up as before. She laughs quietly on the phone, can see her daughter’s excited little face in front of her eyes. “Of course he did. You’re such a good person, and you know that Santa always has an eye on that. And he’s so proud of you, same as me.” Taylor says, consciously didn’t tell her that she’s been a ‘good girl’, this year. She’s learned the difference between society telling you you’re a ‘good girl’ and actually being a good person. There’s worlds between these two things. Taylor can hear the background noises, Elizabeth probably rushing to prepare breakfast for everyone. Just when Eleanor was done telling Taylor about her presents, she can hear Joe in the background. Asking her if ‘mummy’s still on the phone’. Taylor swallows. It takes less than five seconds and she can hear Joe’s voice. He sounds careful, almost worried, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Her text this morning was probably too obvious. He knows her too well, probably can tell already that she’s been to overwhelmed by last night. Too overwhelmed meeting Naomi. Too overwhelmed seeing Joe with another woman. For the first time in a decade. For the first time ever. 

He asks her if she’s feeling better, if she can make it to join them for lunch. How important it would be for Eleanor to have her mum there. Taylor feels sick, just hearing his voice again. Maybe it’s the coffee on her empty stomach, or it’s the warmth in his deep voice, that has captured her from the first time he opened his mouth, ages ago, through all the noise, on a warm LA summer night. 

“I don’t know if it’s safe for me to come over, especially with covid and.. I do feel a scratch in my throat. So I think it’s better if…”

“We all got tested yesterday. It’s impossible that…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like crap,” she says, hoping he would finally stop. Taylor hears his silence on the end of the phone line. He knows. She knows that he knows. 

“Of course, I’m sorry for pressuring you. It’s just… it’s Christmas Day and…”

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me.” She then says, still feels sad whenever he does. She needs to stop doing this. Needs to stop subconsciously mirroring him. Caring so much and so deeply about his happiness that she adjusts whenever he’s feeling some type of way. Suddenly, Taylor can hear Eleanor in the background. She is asking about mommy. Asking when mommy is coming over. Taylor feels this pressure on her chest again. Is she abandoning her daughter right now? Because she can’t get over her own feelings? 

“Eleanor wants to.. wants to speak to you again.” He says then and Taylor can hear him handing over the phone. It takes one whiny “mommy” and Taylor knows she needs to get up, get freshened up, get over herself. She’s not twenty- three anymore. She can’t just care solely for herself anymore. She can’t just stay right here. 

____________________

With a bad tummy ache, Taylor stares out of the window, watching all the naked trees in the dim light. 

You left me no choice but to stay here forever. 

For whatever reason, these lyrics are stuck in her head and she knows that she needs to write them down tonight. Just when the car stops, Taylor feels a rush of nausea overcome her. She unbuckles her seatbelt and nods at her driver. She thanks him underneath her mask, swallows hard as she sees the family home just meters away from her, behind the glass of the car where she’s still sitting in the backseat. She feels unable to move, but does it anyways. After a few seconds, she’s left the car, wearing black jeans and boots and nothing but a plaid blouse underneath her coat. She slowly takes off the mask, remains there in front of the house. She’s doing this for Eleanor. She’s doing this because she’s got a responsibility. Because she’s an adult now. Taylor slowly takes a few steps up to the entry through the thin layer of snow on the ground, can already smell Elizabeth’s cherry pie through the open window that leads right to the hallway. Taylor knows she looks better than a few hours ago. Her hair and face clean. Mascara where it’s supposed to be. Blush on her lips and cheeks. Almost as if nothing had happened to her. Nothing at all. With a slight nauseous feeling, Taylor was about to ring the doorbell but stopped in the last second, as the big door opened by itself already. A bit surprised and startled, Taylor looks at Elizabeth. And the fifty- year old woman looks back at her. It’s this uncomfortable and insecure silence between them for a few seconds. But even before Taylor can say anything, Elizabeth’s face changes into a warm smile. A relief that has run through Taylor’s veins immediately. 

“Oh hi there, I knew I heard a car pull up.” 

Taylor nods, was just about to answer as Elizabeth already pulls her inside the house and inside her arms. This is still new to her. This is still overwhelming. Taylor closes her eyes and feels Elizabeth’s hands on her back, stroking her back up and down. She immediately feels tears building up, swallows them down in the last second, just when the brown haired woman pulls back and smiles at her. 

“Are you feeling better?” She asks, a well- knowing look on her face, as she already takes Taylor’s coat from her. Taylor, who feels welcomed but trapped at the same time, just nods quietly. She doesn’t really want to talk about it. 

“Yeah I felt a bit off this morning.” she mumbles. Elizabeth places a hand on her back as soon as she’s put the coat away and walks with Taylor into the kitchen. Like a wildcat in fight mode, Taylor hectically looks through the living room but nobody’s there. That’s not quite what she expected to find. 

“Where..”

“Oh they’re all upstairs on the attic looking through Joe’s old theatre costumes.” Elizabeth laughs, begins to stir the sauce she’s preparing on the stove. Taylor just nods, doesn’t really know how to act or move. She just takes a deep breath standing there. An old Christmas CD from the 90s is playing. The lights on the Christmas tree are lid. The cooker hood making dump noises. Elizabeth looks up at Taylor again, can see her awkwardly standing there, leaning against the counter next to her. 

“We’re very happy to have you here, you know.” She says then and Taylor feels how she blushes. She never thought Elizabeth would ever say something like this to her ever again. Not after she and Eleanor left her son. Not after the last Christmas. 

“I’m happy to be here as well.” Taylor then answers and Elizabeth steals her another look, then giggles quietly. 

“Are you really?” 

Taylor feels like she’s freezing for a while. She doesn’t know what to do with this answer. 

“Of course, I.. I’m so thankful we’re speaking again and..”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She says and Taylor knows what she knows. It must be written all over her face. A face that says ‘he’s moved on, I haven’t’. Taylor doesn’t say anything, as Elizabeth turns down the temperature of the stove and turns around at her. 

“We should go for a walk soon. Catch up a bit.” 

Taylor immediately smiles and nods a few times. Even if she feels like hell is loose, this offer definitely made her smile a bit more. It took exactly seven seconds to pass, as multiple steps come down the stairs and Eleanor screams excitedly, let’s go off her grandfather’s hand to run towards her mom. 

“Mommy!” She screams and Taylor laughs for the first time really today, lifts up the small girl and holds her on her hip smiling. “Monkey, hello.” Taylor smiles, Eleanor and her automatically leaning in for a kiss on the lips which is followed by Taylor stealing her cheek another kiss. Just as she wished Eleanor another merry Christmas, is when she notices Naomi’s warm smile facing them. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor feels irritated again, holds onto the little girl on her arm as if she’s holding onto her life. 

“Oh darling, are you so happy your mummy’s joined too?” Elizabeth strokes over Eleanor’s curls after having watched the scene between Eleanor and Taylor with a smile. She knows that after all, Taylor’s an incredible mother. A quality that she knew she’s got from the very first day they met. Right in this house. A decade ago. “Yes.” Eleanor mumbles into Taylor’s neck and they all laugh quietly. Just in that second, Joe also joins the family kitchen and smiles warmly at Taylor. He’s glad she’s made it. 

“Someone’s glad her mum’s here, huh?” he then laughs at his daughter. Taylor was about to answer him, but his hand that casually lands on Naomi’s shoulder keeps her from opening her mouth.“Ellie, are you so happy you can show mummy your presents now?” the petite woman says, looking at Eleanor who’s still on Taylor’s arm. Ellie. Just in that moment, Eleanor turns her head grumpily, and goes “My name is Eleanor”. Taylor tries her hardest not to smile, but her mini- me seems to have hit the nail in the head here. Joe immediately laughs, both hands on Naomi’s shoulders now. “Darling, why don’t you show your mum what Santa Claus left under the tree this morning for her?” He says with a grin, obviously wanted to change topics to make sure that the awkward mood in the room diminishes. In that second, Eleanor moves on Taylor’s arm quickly and signals her that she wants to get down. 

Together with Eleanor, Taylor now walks into the living room, knees down in front of Eleanor’s presents. 

“Look, this one’s from Santa for mummy.” She says with a bright smile and Taylor decides to sit down on the carpet while opening her present. 

“Mhm what could that be?” She says, swallows hard as she finally takes a good look at what’s in her hands. A colored polaroid of Joe and Eleanor, smiling into the camera is placed in the middle of the green card. Surrounded by little Christmas stickers and drawn Christmas trees with glitter hearts on them, both Eleanor and Joe have their heads stuck together, smiling the purest smiles into the camera. She can see Joe’s arm holding the camera. Of course she’s had some help with this present. Right underneath the picture, Eleanor has placed a smiling heart sticker and wrote “from Eleanor and daddy” in her messy handwriting, just the way a first grader would do. Taylor looks at the card, tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t want to get emotional now. Doesn’t want to get emotional here in this room. But the two humans, who are so innocently smiling in this picture, still mean the world to her. 

“I love it so much.” She says then quietly, hopes that no one else has seen her get teary. Eleanor looks confused at her mum, but Taylor just laughs, wipes away the tears on her cheeks and immediately hugs her. “This is so beautiful that I got super emotional, honey.” She laughs, soothing Eleanor a bit. And the little girl nods, seems to accept Taylor’s answer. 

“I made the card, but Santa wrapped it up and put it under the tree.” 

Taylor laughs and nods before getting up. Especially, because to Eleanor - it actually makes a lot of sense.

“That’s so nice of him. I’m so happy Santa brought me this beautiful card.” She says, takes Eleanor’s hand before joining the others around the table. 

____________________

It’s been an hour now since Taylor consciously made the decision to have a conversation with the left side of the big table - Patrick and his girlfriend Jess. It’s been so wonderful reconnecting with him, hearing about his plans for after his masters degree. Hearing Jess talk about how they met, their struggles to find an affordable flat in northwest London and how excited they are to drive up to Denmark together once this coronavirus situation is over. Taylor has made the conscious effort to ignore Naomi, Joe and Tom who are seated on the other half of the table. Taylor knows she can’t block the new woman on this table out, but she clearly is taking every chance she’s got to engage in other conversations. Just when Eleanor is tapping attentively on her shoulder is when Taylor looks up and finds Naomi, Joe and Eleanor all dressed up. Apparently ready to go for a walk. A bit confused, Taylor looks at Joe and then back at Eleanor. 

“We’re going out for a walk with Flint, do you want to join us?” 

Taylor immediately shakes her head, an answer that came a bit too fast. 

“Oh thanks for asking but I think you should go without me.” she mumbles, the last thing she wants to do right now is go for a walk with Naomi and Joe. Eleanor however continues to pull her hand, seems to have made up her mind that her mum has to join them today. Just when Taylor was about to talk to Eleanor is when Joe already speaks up. His voice in the same gentle tone that he’s always put on when they had a serious conversation. 

“Actually, it would be fantastic if we could just... talk a bit? Who knows when’s the next time that we can all get together?” he says, Naomi just standing next to him, smiling hopefully and nodding with big eyes. Taylor knows that she’s being unreasonable but she would wish that Naomi wasn’t a petite and small woman, who’s got huge eyes, seems a bit shy and radiates this incredible kindness that sickens her whenever she enters the room. She wants Naomi to be someone she can passionately hate. Someone who’s toxic and mean, who gives off bad energy. But instead, she seems to be a kind, ordinary, bi- racial woman. Someone who Taylor would want to be friends with. The last person who Taylor would have wanted as her replacement. The better choice. The easier choice.

“Yeah it would be fun to.. catch up!” Naomi then says to Taylor in her British accent, sounding a bit unsure whether she’s been taking it too far. Taylor swallows. She’s got no arguments left. If she still decides to not go with them, then she would be the bad cop. A decision she doesn’t want to have to take. Taylor slowly gets up, nods and puts on a fake smile as Eleanor already cheers on her. She seems to be way more excited than Taylor is. 

“Alright, it’s fine.” Taylor mumbles, can feel Elizabeth’s stare in her neck. She knows that it’s not fine. Not at all. 

A bit insecure, just like she was back then, Taylor slowly puts in her boots that were left in the hallway. Joe watches her and he knows this isn’t easy for her. But knowing Taylor, he also is aware that things will feel way easier once she gets to know Naomi. Once she sees that she’s so respected by someone who doesn’t even know her. Once she sees that he wants her in his life. Forever. No matter what the circumstances are. 

Joe remains standing in the hallway, watches Eleanor and Naomi with Flint leave the doorway already. Joe remains standing there, looks down at Taylor who’s still fixing her boots. Once she gets up, she exchanges a look with him and he smiles. Taylor is rolling her eyes. 

I can’t believe you make me do this.

Thank you for doing this.

With her hands in her coat, Taylor slowly starts walking next to Joe. She feels awkward to say the least. Going for a walk with Joe, their child and his new girlfriend. Naomi carefully slows down to walk right next to Joe, and seems to be more than interested to start a conversation with Taylor. 

“It’s such a beautiful weather isn’t it? I can’t believe it started snowing last night.” Naomi says and Taylor nods, can see in the corner of her eye that Joe is holding hands with her. And Taylor feels sick. To say the least. 

“Eleanor was so sad these past weeks cause it hadn’t snowed yet, so she’s ecstatic today.” Joe laughs and everyone reacts except for Taylor. She usually is excellent in smalltalk, and Joe knows that. But seeing her so quiet makes him think that it’s not even a statement she’s giving him - she probably really is at a loss for words. 

“Are you feeling better?” Joe asks her and Taylor slowly looks up, looks straight at Eleanor who’s holding Flint in her hands while walking down the street. 

“Yeah definitely.” She says, doesn’t even try to sound like she’s okay with it. Slowly but surely, she feels rage develop in her chest. She cannot believe he’s making her do this. She cannot believe after everything they’ve been though, he can just go for a walk with Eleanor and her and his new girlfriend. 

“Are you usually based in London or in America, Taylor?” Naomi then asks and Taylor can feel immediately that she’s been desperate to start a conversation with her. Taylor feels her staring at her. But she can’t face her just yet.

“Well Eleanor’s pre- school is based in London so we’re mainly here. But before covid we would travel a lot between Nashville and London.” she answers, feels actually kind of proud that she’s grown up enough to not become mean or sarcastic towards Naomi. And she can feel Joe do the same. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s proud how civil she can be. 

“Wow must be nice to have homes all over the world.” Naomi says and Joe laughs quietly. She cannot believe he’s laughing at her. Cannot believe he would be with someone who’s from an entirely different world. But then again, wasn’t that what Joe was to her back then? A sweet escape from the crowded and abnormal world she’s been living in. Taylor dares to look to her left and she can see Naomi looking at her steps carefully. Maybe, Naomi is Joe’s escape from her. The most painful thought she’s had for a while.

“Well, I’m sure Joe already told you that living in two different countries at the same time isn’t as exciting as you may think.” Naomi laughs quickly, and anyone who would witness this conversation could tell immediately that Naomi is nervous. Taylor hates it. Taylor hates how nice she is. 

“Well, I was raised in southwest London and my family never could afford to travel. So to me, all of that sounds lovely.” Taylor says nothing.

“Daddy, can you help me with Flint’s collar?” Eleanor suddenly yells, already is a good six hundred meters in front of them. Joe immediately nods, starts jogging towards his daughter. Taylor and Naomi are now left behind, slowly continue walking down the street. And without taking a closer look at Naomi, Taylor can feel how happy the other woman seems to be that she has some alone time with Taylor now. 

“It sounds ridiculous, I’m sure, but you have no idea how scared I was to meet you.” Naomi then says and Taylor wishes she never would’ve started this topic. She doesn’t know anything about Naomi and she wants things to stay this way. “When I was younger I had all of your albums at my house and... I really admire you a lot.”

“Thanks.” Taylor answers, as emotionless as possible. And she can sense that Naomi feels the cold that she radiates right now. How can Joe expect her to bond with his new girlfriend on Christmas? How can he think that her love for him has ever diminished? It never could. And he used to know that. The silence between the tall blonde woman in the big black coat and the smaller woman in the red puff jacket gets louder. Taylor feels uncomfortable and she for sure knows that Naomi feels the same. 

“I know you hate me.” Naomi then says and Taylor sighs. Her anger gets more with every single word she says. 

“I don’t hate you.”

“No, I mean.. I get it. And I feel so sorry for...”

“What do you feel sorry for?” Taylor asks, a bit too aggressive for her usual self. 

“I’m sorry that Joe is making us meet over Christmas. It wasn’t my idea. I hope you know that. But I think he just... he wants things to become easier. With us. With you and your daughter. I think he just wants to finally have some peace.”

Naomi’s last sentence rips Taylor’s insides apart. She knows that she’s right. That she just said what Taylor sang years ago. Joe just wants to have peace in his life. With a partner who can give him that. With her as an ex- girlfriend and with his child. That’s all he wants. Taylor and Naomi just keep walking down the street, nothing but the gravel under their soles can be heard. 

“You know, I will never become someone for him like you were.” Naomi then says and Taylor starts to feel sick. She can’t believe that this woman won’t stop talking. It almost feels painful hearing her voice in her ears. “You... you were his first real love. Whenever we talk about these things...” she sighs, then looks back up at Tay. “He speaks a lot about you and I think there’s just so many things he’s still digesting. Please don’t ever think that..”

“Naomi...” Taylor then interrupts her because she feels like throwing up. She can’t believe that the little person next to her is opening up to her if it she was an old friend. And maybe, exactly that kindness is what drives her insane. Because deep down, Taylor knows that Joe deserves someone as caring as that. Someone who helps him heal the wounds that she created. “I don’t hate you, Naomi. But I also need you to respect that I need time. Can we not talk about Joe anymore?”

Naomi looks at Taylor with big eyes, immediately nods. She seems intimidated by the tall blonde woman and Taylor can feel how guilty she feels. Naomi shakes her head, then turns to Taylor. “God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought maybe it would be the right way to just.. be really honest with you, but you’re so right, it was super insensible, and...”

“It’s fine.” Taylor then says, enjoys the sudden silence between them more than she expected. Taylor slowly looks up, can see Joe walking hand in hand with Eleanor. His hand lands on Eleanor’s head, and even from far away, Taylor can hear that she’s singing her favorite Christmas song. Taylor can’t help but smile for a second. Maybe, just maybe, it was all meant to be this way. Taylor still remembers ten years ago, when she first moved to New York and discovered slowly that with the lifestyle she chose, having a family and a committed relationship would be impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she was right back then. Taylor sees Joe jogging backwards, making Eleanor laugh. He seems so happy today. Playing with Eleanor, knowing he’s found someone who can give him the kind of life he was always used to, before her. The kind of life he craves. Taylor suddenly feels a new feeling in her chest. It’s a feeling she read about multiple times but never had experienced herself before, in the truest form she could imagine. She just wants him to be happy. Even if it means that she’s not part of his life anymore. At least not in the way she used to be. And she wants him to ‘digest’ whatever she did to him. Wants someone to help him heal the scars that she gave him. 

“Look at that house, baby, oh my god.” Taylor squeaks for the fifteenth time in the past hour, stops in the middle of the street again. Joe grins, takes a step back to see what she’s looking at. A tiny house in brick stone with a French balcony right on the canal. He looks down at the blonde woman and laughs. She quickly reaches for her crossbody bag, takes out her phone and takes a picture. He can’t help but laugh. 

“We’ll  go home on Sunday and you have two hundred pictures of dutch houses on your phone.” Taylor grins, but doesn’t let him stop her. She just continues to take pictures, then buries her phone in her bag again and reaches for his hand once more. In nothing but her jeans shorts, white sneakers and huge sweatshirt, Taylor walks next to Joe. It’s a lukewarm summer night. With both hands now clinging onto Joe’s, they just continue to walk down the small street somewhere here in Amsterdam. 

“I’m just in awe that there’s people living here, in this.. dream city. It’s so cozy and gorgeous. I just… Joe, I could cry how romantic this is.” Joe, who’s still walking hand in hand next to her just looks down at her with a big smile. His blonde hair a bit too long. His beard grown for his upcoming movie role. He just smiles, gets closer to her and presses a gentle kiss onto her lips. She tastes like the rose chapstick she applied earlier. 

“I’m glad you like it.” he then says, continues walking down this lane. Taylor’s eyes are everywhere right now. She’s smitten by the city, smitten by the fact that she’s experiencing this. A weekend in a beautiful European city with the love of her life. No big black cars. No security around her. She feels so free with him, so safe, so… alive.

“Thanks for taking me here and organizing everything.” She mumbles. The sun is slowly setting and she’s glad she put on her sweater. “You’re very welcome. We’re almost there.” Joe says, keeps looking at his phone to make sure they’re not missing the right lane. “I think we need to go that way.” He says, points to a tiny alley on the left. Taylor looks at him and then back at the tiny street and just laughs. “God, I fucking love Europe” she laughs, holds onto his hand a bit tighter as they make their way through the alley. Joe looks back at her and she’s amused, carefully watches her steps on the cobblestones to not trip or fall. 

“Where are you taking me? Do I have to be scared?” She asks, and Joe laughs. 

“I’m taking you out to dinner, I already told you that.” he says all smart and Taylor just shakes her head. 

“I’m really hungry. Where are we...”, within a few seconds Taylor gets quieter because she’s speechless. Just as they left the  tiny street, a massive canal with a beautiful bridge that fully lid up by small lights is right in front of them. And Taylor feels like she’s in a movie. “Beautiful here, huh?” he smiles and Taylor remains speechless. 

“Do you see this restaurant?” he asks, points to three small tables that are located right on the bridge next to the canal. Taylor just looks up at him, can’t believe he picked this romantic little restaurant for the two. 

“Are you kidding me? This is... oh my god.” With a proud smile, Joe starts walking closer to the small restaurant. Just as they stand in front, Joe starts speaking to the waiter who then accompanies Taylor and Joe to their outside table - a tiny round table on the small bridge right over the Amsterdam canal. Taylor, who truly seems to be at a loss for words just sits down together with Joe. And the blonde haired man has to laugh at her reaction. Her eyes as big as the eyes of a child and her jaw still dropped. 

“Do you like it?” he asks laughing, knows the answer himself. Taylor still looks around, unable to process how beautiful her surrounding is. She’s used to big city lights and massive crowds. But what Joe is presenting her here is quiet and calm beauty. The sunset over the old Dutch roofs. The view over the canal right from this little bridge. People who pass the street on the other side with their bikes. It’s quiet and small and beautiful. 

“Joe, this is... this is by far the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever been at. How did you... how did you find this?” she asks, her phone already in her hand, taking pictures of everything around her. And Joe can’t help but smile. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to make this special, wanted to show her some of the most beautiful places in the world he knows. He wants to take her to all of them. The special ones and the common ones. 

Just when he was about to open the menu, Taylor tells him to smile at her and he does so. The picture she just took of him makes her smile. He seems so happy, his eyes radiating in this picture right in the centre of this beautiful scenery right here at this restaurant. Taylor looks at this picture for a minute too long. 

This is it. This is her entire happiness. 

With a happy smile, Taylor puts her phone back into her small YSL purse and opens the menu like he just did. “What are you going to eat?” Taylor asks him and Joe smiles slightly, then looks back up at her. 

“Well I’m not sure yet but I already know what you’re gonna get.” Taylor laughs, 

“Okay and what is that?”

“Number 21 - truffle pasta with side salad. Dressing on the side.” Taylor looks back up at him and laughs in surprise again. He just knows her too well.

“Why the fuck do you read me like a book?” she jokes, and Joe can’t help but stare at her for a bit longer. She really does look incredible in this light. Her bangs a bit messy, her hair in a bun. She looks cozy in her sweater. But most of all she looks... happy. 

“I guess I just know you very well.” he says, and Taylor closes the menu and looks back up at him. It’s a loving look, an intimate one. She slowly reaches for his hand across the table and Joe also puts the menu aside. 

“You do. You really do.” she just mumbles and he feels like drowning in her eyes. Just when Joe was about to open his mouth, the waiter had already made his way to them and Joe orders - both main menus and two glasses of the Chardonnay. Taylor’s favorite. 

“Do you ever think about what our lives could be like, living here in one of these tiny houses.” Taylor then says, her eyes on her surroundings. She sounds so dreamy as so often. Her heart is the heart of a little romantic. Joe still holds her hand on the table, strokes the back of it slowly. His eyes are just on her. “Maybe you would be working at the Amsterdam theatre of arts. I would be a writer. We’d both may struggle financially but live in a tiny old flat. You would get me tulips every weekend. We would eat a lot of cheese.” Joe starts laughing then, still looking at Taylor. 

“I don’t think that’s what actual Dutch people  do on the daily, babe.” he laughs, as the waiter already approaches their table and serves them two glasses of wine. Not even for a split second, Taylor lets go off Joe’s hand. With her other hand she’s reaching for the wine glass. 

“Cheers baby. To us. Two years.” she smiles and he does the same.

“Two years. Almost.” he says and she laughs slowly.

“Oh come on, do you really think I’m breaking up with you two weeks before our anniversary?” she laughs and he just shrugs his shoulders. 

“You never know.” Taylor just shakes her head. He is silly at times. 

“But for real now, what if we quit our lives and move to Amsterdam and become ordinary people?” she asks him and Joe has to laugh once more. She really seems to be obsessed with this idea . 

“I don’t know, I like our lives.” he says, feels a sudden nervousness overcome him. It’s the first time since this weekend. The first time that it comes boiling up and scaring him a bit. 

“I mean... our lives are not normal or easy. I would like normal and easy for a while.” Taylor says, looks around herself once more. She can’t wait to send pictures of this beautiful location to her family and friends. They won’t even believe how lucky she’s been. 

“I think normal and easy is not for us. We’re not normal or easy and I love that.” he says, takes a sip off his wine glass. Taylor laughs and looks at him then. 

“No I am not normal or easy. You are though.” she jokes but Joe doesn’t react to her. She knows that it’s one of her weaknesses. Laughing when she’s nervous. Turning things that scare or worry her into a joke. Joe, who still hasn’t replied yet, just keeps staring at her. She’s so uncomfortable all of the sudden. And she never is, especially not when she’s with Joe. 

“You are normal and you are easy too. And I love you.” he says then and Taylor looks back at him. She can see so much in his eyes, in these moments. So much love and kindness, but there’s also something else. He’s holding something back. Deep down, she can feel that. 

“I know you still think you’re a burden and your life’s all complicated and all that..” he then says and Taylor freezes. There’s not been many times where he’s blurted something like this out. Without thinking twice. Just like that. Taylor swallows. Why is it that he can read her mind like that. As If she was an open book to him. “But have you ever thought for a second that you’re the only one out there I ever want to be with? I.. I don’t care about anything like that. All the.. all the complications or the not easiness or the abnormal things about your life. It’s not like that for me. I can’t ever see myself loving someone else again.” He says, ends his little speech with a smile. And Taylor just sits there, at the restaurant, holding his hand. She looks at his face but his words feel too overwhelming for her to process them. She’s had relationships before. But she’s never heard words quite like these. 

“Do you understand me?” he jokes at her speechlessness then, “I can’t be with anyone else ever again. You changed me.” 

“I changed you?” 

“You did.” Joe looks back in her eyes and he can see how deeply emotional she is. This is it, he thinks.

“You changed me, Joe. In so many ways.” He smiles, takes a deep breath, holds her little hand a bit tighter. 

“I know we never spoke about this in all seriousness, but…” he stops again, looks at her hands, before looking back up at her again. He feels shaky all of the sudden. His hands become a bit more sweaty than usually. “But.. how would you feel about.. things getting more serious in the future.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“How would you feel if I asked you to marry me?” Taylor sits there, a soothing evening breeze passing her face. She just smiles at him, doesn’t say anything. Then, without her controlling it, Taylor starts laughing. Loudly. Joe swallows. This was not quite the reaction he was hoping for. 

“Baby, are you proposing to me? Or what is this?” Joe takes a breath, then laughs with her. He’s a bit insecure, but he’s shaking it off quite well. Acting school seems to have paid off.

“I’m not, I just wanted to speak to you about it. I mean… do you ever want to get married and have kids, or what are your plans in like… years down the road.” 

“Of course I want to marry you. And I want us to have tall blonde weird ass kids.” she smiles across the table, “but.. we’re not there yet. I mean, we’re not even thirty yet. I just.. I definitely need a bit longer.” She laughs and Joe nods. He also takes a sip of his wine glass now. He definitely needs that. 

“Do you feel differently?” She asks him then and he shakes his head. 

“No, no I fully agree with you. I mean.. I’m 27. Way too young.” he mumbles, and Taylor reaches his hand again. 

“Hey, look at me.” she says then, almost whispering because she knows he will hear her. “It’s you and me until the day I die. No matter if you love someone else or.. if you hate me. I will always love you, even when you don’t love me anymore.”

A dog barks at the end of the road. The soft snow underneath her boots creak slightly. For the first time since minutes, Taylor looks up in front of her again. Joe and Eleanor are still a good three hundred meters in front of them, have now started to pick a snowball fight. Just the two of them. And the tall man seems unlucky, seems to have taught his daughter very well. Every now and then, he acts as if Eleanor’s snowball hit him very hard. Harder than humanly possible. And Eleanor loves it, giggles excitedly while speaking to Flint about her next move. 

You left me. You left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

Taylor feels her body vibrating. She immediately stops, turns around at the woman next to her. “Uhm Naomi, can you.. can you walk up to Joe and tell him I need to finish something really quick. He.. he’ll know. See you later.” Naomi nods a bit confused, and it’s only then that Taylor notices how insecure the woman seems. She’s looking at Taylor, trying hard to understand her. Trying hard to read her. It’s this moment, in which Taylor understands that it’s also not easy being in her position. She’s the one who wasn’t there. Who hasn’t lived through the past years. 

But Joe and her did. Every second. 

More determined than before, she then turns around, already picks her phone as soon as she’s a few meters away from her. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor opens her recording app, stares at her phone for a few seconds and closes the app again. She then goes back to her picture folder, scrolls up for a few seconds. Right until she’s found it. Found something she didn’t want to see for a long time. 

07.54pm, Amsterdam, Netherlands, September 4th, 2018. 

Her phone still reminds her. Taylor stares at this picture for a while. Joe indeed, looked so happy. Sitting in the small restaurant by the canal. Holding her hand. Believing that they were forever. Having his mum’s ring in his pocket. Little did he know then that this evening would be the first time she would refuse his proposal. Taylor touches his face on the screen for a few seconds, then closes the app again. She goes back into her recordings, holds the phone close to her and begins to sing quietly. She doesn’t want anyone to notice her. To notice her singing nonsense into her phone - which has been the only dealing mechanism she’s ever known. She closes her eyes, right on this snowy winter day, and she’s back. Back in Amsterdam. Back in summer. 

“Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right..”

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 6

Adam Boqvist: I’m Sure Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7K

Taglist: @flowery-mess​ @musiclove-12​

I sit in the lobby of the gynecologist’s office, flipping mindlessly through a parenting magazine. These magazines are so stupid- they’re meant to make parenting look easy and flawless, like nothing could go wrong- spoiler note, they’re wrong.

Your partner could leave you at any moment.

Your child could lie to you.

You could end up unexpectedly pregnant multiple times.

Children aren’t as easy as people like to think that they are. I sigh, throwing the magazine onto the coffee table in front of me and peak at my watch. It’s a minute until the time that my appointment is actually scheduled for. I was hoping to get in earlier to get out earlier. I want to pick Holden up from school and take him to an arcade to relax, since everything has been so hectic lately.

The slow, casual opening of the sliding doors are a sharp contrast to the frazzled, out-of-breath man that runs through them. He pants, looking around frantically at all of the couples staring back at him before locating me.

“Oh good, you haven’t gone in yet,” he gasps, practically throwing himself into the chair next to me and turning his hat around on his head so it’s backwards.

“I thought you were a professional athlete, how are you so out of breath?” I point out, ignoring his comment.

“I’ve been missing my workouts to hang out with you and the boys,” he gives me a flirty smile.

I roll my eyes. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

His smile fades as he looks at me. “Hey, that’s not what I-“”Y/N Y/L/N?” The nurse calls my name at the perfect time.

I jump out of the chair, different from the past couple of weeks where I’ve had to ease myself up due to my growing belly.

“How are you doing today?” The nurse asks as she leads the way down the hallway.

“I’m good, how about you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Adam trails behind us as we enter a small exam room. He hovers awkwardly in the doorway as the nurse brings me over to the scale, weighing me and taking down my height. I motion to one of the empty chairs beside the computer and he quickly sits down, an apologetic look on his face.

I can’t help but feel annoyed.

I know he’s new to this and uncomfortable and I should just appreciate him being here in the first place, but holy hell I can’t hold his hand through everything. If he can’t even sit down in a fucking chair by himself, how can I trust him to change a diaper? Or God forbid, if he had to be with the baby by himself?

I’m doubting the man next to me as I take the chair beside him, updating the nurse on my personal information.

“Any concerns?” The nurse asks, typing furiously on the keyboard.

“My back is hurting really bad. With my last pregnancy, I don’t remember it hurting this bad,” I confess, rubbing my lower back as the shooting pain makes its way through my back.

“I will write a note for the doctor. Alright, she’ll be in shortly,” she smiles before leaving.

I feel like I’m practically begging her with my eyes to stay. I don’t want to be left alone with Adam, I know I should get used to it because he sounds like he wants to be involved in the boys lives now, but there’s something preventing me from feeling fully comfortable around him.

“What was it like with Holden?”

His question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn my head towards him, making eye contact with him. I feel taken aback every time we make eye contact- it’s like I’m seeing his blue eyes for the first time all over again.

“What was what like with Holden?” You’ve missed out on a lot of moments, you’re going to have to be specific here, buddy.

“Your pregnancy,” he shifts awkwardly. “You said you have more backaches this, uh, time, than you did when you were, um-“”You can say the word pregnant, Adam.”

He clenches his jaw. “Fine. You said you have more backaches this pregnancy than when you were pregnant with Holden, so what else is different? There, are you happy I said it? Pregnant.”

“Whatever,” I cross my arms over my chest, excitement for this appointment ruined by Adam’s shitty attitude. He’s shown me time and time again that he’s still selfish, so tell me again, why am I allowing him to be here?

“Well?”

“Well what?” I question, looking at him in disbelief.

“What’s different?” He asks like I’m the stupid one.

“Oh my God, Adam, I still get nauseous at the smell of scrambled eggs, my feet hurt more when I was pregnant with Holden than with this baby, but this baby makes my back hurt more, and this baby loves to kick way, way, way fucking more than Holden did. There, are you happy I said it?” I repeat his question. “Do you feel like asking about my pregnancy with Holden makes up for you not being there?”

He’s quiet. We sit in this sharp tension for a good five minutes before the doctor arrives, neither of wanting to say anything. Or maybe it’s that we just don’t know what to say.

“Hi, how are we feeling today?” Dr. Rocht questions as she enters the room.

“Hungry,” I respond, dreaming about the local sub shop down the street from the women’s clinic.

Adam gives me a look of disbelief, like he can’t believe that I would even be thinking about food after the fight we just had. But hey, the baby’s hungry.

“Why don’t we have you climb on the exam table so we can get you an ultrasound of this growing baby, huh?” She requests.

I nod, standing up and climbing onto the table, lifting my shirt so that my small bump is in view.

I see Adam’s eyes widen at the sight of it, like he didn’t actually realize that I was pregnant, but I ignore him.

“So did you open the envelope to see what you’re having?” She makes small talk as she preps the equipment.

“It’s a boy,” I smile with the news.

“A boy,” Dr. Rocht repeats with a smile of her own, “Is your son excited to have a younger brother?”

“He is! I think he would’ve been excited either way, but I think he’s really looking forward to having a baby brother.”

She rubs the gel on my lower stomach and I’m silent as I stare anxiously at the ultrasound screen, waiting for the picture of my baby boy to show up.

There he is. With his little button nose, tiny lips, and the outline of his body, I cherish it every time I get to see him. He’s really there- he’s really inside of me. Using my body and the nutrients that I give him, he’s growing.

A wide, cheesy grin spreads across my face as I see him.

“Are you okay there, dad?” Dr. Rocht’s voice snaps me out of the moment I’m having with myself.

I turn to look at Adam, seeing him ball his hands into fists and rub at his eyes, sniffling along with the motion. “Yeah, it’s just, uh, the first time that. I’ve seen this.”

A pane of guilt hits my chest with the way I’ve been treating Adam. He’s been out of his kids’ lives for the past thirteen years, yes, but he’s trying now. And shouldn’t he get some credit for that?

The gynecologist asks me a question, turning my attention back to her. She gives me some advice about how to deal with the backaches and prints out three pictures of the ultrasound. One for me, one for Adam, and one for Holden. I tuck two of them into my purse and give the other to Adam, heading to the front desk to make my next appointment right away.

The blonde man walks past me as I talk to the receptionist, out through the front doors and into the parking lot. My emotions have been all over the place all day- I’m aware of that- but walking away from me after asking me to be involved in your sons lives and crying at the ultrasound just seems downright disrespectful and inconsiderate.

His actions clearly aren’t matching up with his words.

I walk into the parking lot, unlocking my car.

“Y/N.” I look over to see Adam waiting on a bench outside of the building, looking back at me.

“What, Adam?” I question, just wanting to get my sub, eat it, and take a nap. I feel so drained from the last couple of days. Although this may be benefiting my children, this whole process with Adam is entirely exhausting to me.

“I’m looking for an apartment. Here, in Philadelphia. For the next three months,” he informs me.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, speaking slowly. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?” I can tell by his tone that he’s instantly defensive.

That’s why, I want to respond. Because you aren’t willing to listen or understand anything other than your opinion.

“Adam, I just,” I sigh, shifting my purse strap. “Holden still hasn’t decided whether he wants a relationship with you, and I don’t know when he will make a decision. And- and there’s nothing you can do for me or this baby right now.”

“I just came to an ultrasound with you,” he points out.

“And you started an argument with me while in there.” I wave my hands around for emphasis, probably looking like a crazy person but needing to get my point across. “You stress me out. And it’s not good for my health or the baby’s health. I’m sorry, but I think you should return to Chicago. I’ll send you weekly updates.”

I get into my car, knowing that his eyes are following me, but his mouth doesn’t move. He’s finally starting to understand what I’m saying.

~

One of the good things about having a baby bump, beside it meaning that the baby is growing healthily, is that you can balance things on it. Like right now, when I have three stacks of plastic cups resting on my stomach as I carry them from the back to the front.

I set the cups on the counter, bending over to put them away.

“Okay, Y/N, Rachel, Marcella, and I have been talking, and we really like Sebastian,” Lia informs me, sliding her phone into her back pocket.

Marcella asked for the day off and Rachel had to leave early to go to a doctor’s appointment, so it’s just me and Lia this afternoon. It’s fine, it’s a slow Wednesday anyways.

“Who’s Sebastian? Is that the boy you’re kind of dating?” I question. The three girls are texting each other all of the time so they’re always caught up on each other’s lives, but I’m a little slower when it comes to that.

“No, for the second baby,” she beams, “Sebastian is the name of our favorite character from Vampires Defending the Nation. Have you seen it?”

“Nope,” I respond, knowing it’s probably some rip off of The Vampire Diaries.

“It’s so good! You have to see it,” she gushes, “So, have you thought about other names for the baby yet?”

“Not really,” I confess. “I mean, I still have another four months to think about it.”

“Hey, Y/N,” a familiar voice interrupts my conversation with Lia.

I turn around to face the customer, sighing when I see Adam standing expectantly on the other side of the counter.

“What can I get for you, Adam?” I step up to the cash register.

“I found an apartment and paid the down payment today. Just thought you should know,” he tells me.

“So, one large caramel Frappuccino,” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice as I tap the order onto the cash register.

“And I wanted to invite you and Holden over for dinner tonight.”

“Extra whip, that’ll be an additional dollar.” My fingers jap the register harder now.

“Come on, Y/N, please. Just talk to him for me,” he pleads, pulling cash out of his wallet despite never ordering the Frappuccino.

“It is not my job to fix this for you,” I snap at him, lowering my voice once I notice other customers begin to look at us. “You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it. I’m sick of you fucking up and it all falling onto me, Boqvist.”

“Just tell him to respond to my texts, please.”

“It’s like you never hear a word I say,” I shake my head, exhausted from his attitude. “Your total is $5.47.”

He hands a fifty-dollar bill to me and I make sure to avoid contact with his hand, not wanting to end up in the same situation we ended up in last time we were in this café together.

“Keep the change.”

I hand him back two twenty-dollar bills, four singles, two quarters, and three pennies.

Keep the change my ass. Do you think throwing money at me will get me to change my mind?

“Coming right up,” I give him a fake smile, turning around to make his drink.

As I hand him the large cup, he leans in closer to me. I feel like I’m holding my breath, like if I release the oxygen from my lungs it’ll tangle with the oxygen from his lungs and we’ll be connected again.

“Just think about dinner, okay?” He gives me a soft smile before the front door chimes after him.

“Is that baby daddy?” Lia’s voice startles me out of my frozen state.

I nod, not trusting my voice to speak.

“Wow, he is hot,” she exclaims. When I give her a look of disapproval, she adds, “And an asshole. Total asshole.”

~

“Mom,” Holden hollers, stumbling down the steps. I pause Vampires Defending the Nation at the perfect time since Holden stops right in front of the TV.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Adam told me that he wants to buy me the new Halo game,” he states excitedly.

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. First he tries to pay me to talk to Holden for him at the café and now he’s buying Holden’s love by getting him a new video game.

Does this man think that money just fixes everything?

“That’s nice, honey,” I try to give him a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“And, uh,” he suddenly looks shy, making me wonder what Adam told him this time. I never know with Adam- I can never predict him. “And he told me that he, um, invited us over for dinner. And, uh, I would like to go, if, if you want to.”

I study him. He’s not fiddling with his fingers, he’s avoiding eye contact with me not because he’s lying, but because he’s unsure of my reaction, he’s not biting his lip. He’s not feeling pressured into doing this by Adam, it’s something that he really wants to do.

“Are you sure?” I question, giving him the chance to change his mind.

“I’m sure, mom.”

“Alright,” I pull out my phone slowly to text Adam that we’d be there in an hour, giving Holden the final chance to change his mind.

He doesn’t. And now I have to see Adam in less than an hour, something that I’m dreading, yet somehow deep inside, looking forward to.

~

Adam’s apartment is only twenty minutes away from our small townhouse, but it’s a stark difference to how we live. Whereas the brick outside of our townhouse is from the early 1900s and the paint is peeling (the landlord refuses to pay me back if I paint it myself- and I’m stubborn too, so I refuse to do it for free) while I remember Adam’s apartment building being built last year and there’s a security guard at the entrance who greets us.

I reach out to grab Holden’s hand. I’m not sure if it’s more for me or him, but I think we both need the comfort of each other.

The receptionist gets clearance from Adam to allow us up to his apartment and I hesitantly knock on the fake wood door, stepping back and waiting for it to open up.

It swings open, a beaming Adam Boqvist on the other side. “Glad you guys could make it, come on in.”

We walk into the apartment hesitantly, taking off our shoes.

“So, it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, I figured a room for me, a room for Holden, and a room for the new baby, and uh, I made spaghetti for dinner,” the hockey player rambles, hurrying over to the stove to stir the steaming pot.

“No room for you,” Holden murmurs, teasingly, nudging my arm with his.

I roll my eyes at that, but his father clearly hears his comment, because he responds, “Oh, I was thinking she would share a room with me.”

Just as I’m about to bite back with a sassy response, he takes the pot off of the stove to dump the boiling water out. I take the time to slyly check out the apartment.

The walls are a stark white- something that he’ll regret once this baby gets into his trouble-making-toddler phase, the appliances are all brand new, and the furniture looks very modern.

Truthfully, it doesn’t look comfortable to live in. It looks like something out of a magazine.

“Dinner’s ready,” Adam announces.

We pile our plates with food, and I take a seat at the table, Holden sitting across from me and Adam sitting next to me.

“A water for you and the baby, a water for Holden,” Adam states, setting a glass down beside each of our plates before taking a seat next to me. “So, Holden, how was school today?”

I zone out as my son answers.

In the seat next to Holden, a girl a couple of years younger than him would be smiling at me. Holden would reach over to pick up the piece of garlic bread that fell in her lap, setting it on her napkin on the table. A high chair would be at the end of the table next to Adam, and in between bites of his spaghetti, he would feed the waiting, hungry baby.

That baby would be an accident. But we would laugh and joke about half of our babies being accidents, not in the way we do now, but in a joking, loving way.

A way that would show, yes, this wasn’t planned, but we’re in this together. We’re always in this together.

It’s what could have been. We could have had a nice house that we designed together, three kids that were by both of us, hell, even a dog. We could have been together. We could have done this together.

“Mom?”

I look at Holden with questioning eyes. He gives me a look of concern, nodding towards Adam. “Adam asked you a question.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, meeting Adam’s eyes. He’s always been good at telling my emotions, and that’s why he can press my buttons so easily. But now he just looks like he wants to comfort me, wrap me in his arms and never let me go.

“Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Are you alright?” He mumbles like we’re the only people in the room, ignoring my question.

“I’m fine, um, the baby’s just kicking me really hard,” I lie, hoping that even if he doesn’t believe it, he’ll accept it.

He nods slowly, a tell-tale sign that he doesn’t believe my lie, but he’ll let it slide. “I asked you who you were working with today.”

“Oh, that’s Lia,” I answer. We make small talk for the rest of dinner, but I feel concern oozing both from the man beside me and the boy across from me.

I just need to get through this dinner, then I can go home and sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

I pull the shoe onto my foot, losing my balance and beginning to tumble forward. A hand shoots out to catch me, steadying me.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I rise to my full height, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

“Gotta be careful, there,” Adam mumbles back, arm still holding onto mine. We stand there in a comfortable silence for the first time in thirteen years. I don’t want it to end, but then I remember that Holden still has homework to do, and I have to do some things before work tomorrow.

“We should get going now,” I state, moving towards the door.

“Y/N, wait,” his voice stops me. I turn around to face him. “Um, I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying. And I know I’ve been saying that for a while and I haven’t really been acting like it, but I rented this apartment, and I cooked this dinner and I’m trying to be there for Holden because I haven’t been there for him.

“And I’m trying to be there for you, too. Not just because you’re carrying my child, but because you’ve been supermom for the past thirteen years. You stepped up when I couldn’t, for the both of us, and it’s just, you just,” he takes a deep breath. “You deserve the world.” I feel something tug at my heart.

“I’m really sorry. I’m sorry for not being there then, I’m sorry for not being here now when I have been here, I’m sorry for everything. And I’m going to do everything in my power to show you how sorry I am.”

I nod, soaking in his words. He’s apologizing. He’s realizing his actions- or lack thereof. And now we just need to see if his actions will match up with this grand speech he just gave me.

“You better,” I say quietly, walking out of his new apartment.

“What took you so long?” Holden asks from his spot in front of the elevator.

“I had to talk to your dad.”

“Was it- was it a good talk?” He questions, eyes asking an unasked question.

I nod. “It was a good talk, Holden.”

[catwatcha]

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2153

Warnings: 18+ smut & cursing & fainting

Authors note: shit goes down in this chapter so eeeeeekkkk

You’re too hard to forget.

It’s been one week without any dreams. I have moments where my eyes are closed and I see flashes of images that look like various hospital rooms. But none of them have Chan. I told Jasey what had happened, I think. Honestly my body felt numb and my head was ringing so I don’t know what exactly I said, but I said enough that she would leave me alone, because I don’t want to think about it.

Unfortunately, it’s all I can think about.

It’s Monday morning again. I walk into school and plaster a smile on my face, knowing that I can take off in just six hours. I can do that, right? Yes, I think. I walk over to Jasey as usual, but stop when I see a familiar face. It’s the boy who I saw outside the coffee shop a couple weeks ago. He seems to recognize me too, because he stares at me with wide eyes. “Uhhh,” I say when I look at him, and thankfully Jasey doesn’t seem to notice and interrupts me. “Y/n! You’re here! This is Minho,” she says, and I can see the blush spread across her cheeks. This is her secret. And apparently, mine too. “I’m Y/n,” I say to him, though I’m looking at my shoes. He hesitates, but introduces himself in a similar way. I silently thank him for not saying anything like, ‘I know you’, or, ‘wait you’re the weirdo who’s friends with my girlfriend?’ We shake hands. He smiles. I smile. And then I turn on my heels, because suddenly I feel dizzy and I’m having flashbacks and if I don’t run, my feet might stay grounded forever, in a state of confusion and shock. “Y/n!” Jasey yells after me, but I keep walking, because I don’t know what else to say. I hear a few whispers behind me, and then I feel a hand gently pulling my arm, stopping my escape plan. I don’t want to turn around in fear of explaining myself to Jasey, but this is worse. The person with a grip on my arm is Minho. I see Jasey on the other side of the courtyard, and she knows something because she’s staying put. Does she know what I told him? Does he even know the depth of what I told him? Right now I don’t care. Because no matter what I told them or told myself, the dreams are gone.

Minho lets go of my arm, but I know he wants to know what’s going on. I speak first. “Sorry, I’m running late and I have English and I’m happy for you and Jasey so anyways I’m gonna get going…” I said. “Y/n, yeah?” he says. I nod, and turn away but he reaches for my arm again. “Wait, I want to talk to you for a minute!” he nods over to a bench, inviting me to sit down. But before I can think, my head is spinning and Minho is there and Jasey is rushing over and there I am. I’m shaking, for reasons I don’t know, and there are so many voices yelling at me from reality as well as from my very own mind. My head hits the concrete, and I pass out.

“I’m okay love.” Chan is in a hospital bed. His hair lies flat, and his skin pale. But he still looks like Chan. My Chan. His eyes shine looking up at me, and his lips form into a smile. I hug him. “Why haven’t I been able to see you?” I ask. It’s been days of waiting, hoping, and wondering if he was okay. They wouldn’t let me in, but I knew I could’ve if he wanted me to. “Why didn’t you let me see you?” I asked as my eyes filled with familiar tears. “Because even though I was hurt, I knew that if you saw me it would hurt you too. And seeing you hurt causes me more pain than anything physical ever could.” I thought about his words, but only for a moment. Because the next thing I know, I’m consumed in a kiss that made my heart stop. I missed him. But he’s okay. It’s us against the world, and I knew nothing would change that. We were back. Chan was going to be okay, and so was I.

I woke up in the nurse’s office. I’ve only been here a few times, usually when I faked a cough to get out of class or when I get migraines. This time though it felt like I was in the middle of some depressing party, held just for me. To my right, Jasey and Minho are standing over me, talking in worried tones. About what, I don’t know. To my left, I see my mom, and that’s when I think this is serious. Then again, She was probably just obligated to be called because of the school phone call I’m sure she received. As if I had pushed some sort of button, the all look at me at the exact same time. Well, I think. This is awkward. Mrs. Amy, our school nurse, is the first to speak. “Y/n, can you hear me? You hit your head pretty hard. Do you want some water?” I shake my head. I don’t want water. I want to go back to bed. Because even though my head is actually pounding, and I’m still a bit nauseous, none of it matters right now. Chan is back. Why now? I look at Minho. He looks at me. When I shook his hand, something felt so familiar. Like he was connected somehow, but no matter. “Thank you.” I say, and I’m smiling like an idiot. He looks at me confused, but I get up and I walk out of the crowded office. And I’m running, because I have so much to do but I have only one place to go right now. I’m going to the coffee shop, and I’m not going to be scared to go in this time. It could be the beginning of the rest of my life if I would just take the extra three steps.

Minho’s P.O.V.

“Minho, I’m so confused right now,” Jasey says to me. “We literally just watched Y/n pass out hard, and then run away like she got a shot of adrenaline.” It was about 9 a.m.now, so I was very late to school. I decided to just skip today in general. This was far more interesting than world history. “I don’t know, Jae. I don’t even know her,” I say. Y/n and I hadn’t even really met that day at the coffee shop. Is this about what she said to me then? I barely remember. I just remember trying to comfort someone who looked a bit shaken up. I never thought she might be broken completely. Maybe this has something to do with that Chan kid? Maybe a breakup, who knows. I love Jasey, but do I have to deal with her friend now? It’s bad enough that Chris is already going through some breakup with a girl he won’t tell me about, and he’s slept at my house every night this week. We play music and he reads and I like that he makes me pizza (that boy can fucking cook, even if it’s just simple things), but I don’t know Y/n. I can’t handle this too. “You should talk to her,” I say to Jasey. “She’s just going through something right now,” she says back, and looks down at her shoes. I think. And then I have a stupid brilliant idea, that could help both me and Jae. We were both so caught up with our friends that we never got much time together. “You know,” I say. “If she’s going through a breakup, I may have an idea. Or even not a breakup, but just rough shit. I know it’s hard and stuff, but I think she should talk to one of my friends. Actually, I think they’d get along really well. They could keep each other company.” I mean, Chris and Y/n. I think they’d be cute. “Calum, that’s never going to happen. I’m sorry baby, but Y/n is taken. I mean, sorta.” She’s laughing, like what I said, it was the dumbest idea in the world. Ouch. “She’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her later,” she says. Oh well. Was worth a shot, if not for Y/n, for Chris at least. I apply her last words to him as well. He’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.

Y/n’s P.O.V.

I’m scared again. Five minutes ago, I told myself to take a deep breath and just walk in. That was after the twenty minutes of standing there, pretending to be on my phone and thinking. I did this so nobody would ask me what’s wrong, like Minho did. Big mistake. But now I’m here and I’m scared. Thinking about Chan always made me feel dizzy because I didn't know what was real and what was a dream. It felt like it had all just become one big blur, dragging myself to and from school, skipping my way to meet Chan and trudging my way to meet Jasey at her place. She knew about the shop, and she knew that I’d never gone in, even though I was there so often. After running out of school this afternoon, she deserved a call from me, at the least. So I called her and went over to her place, and here we are back at the same downtown corner with the smell of coffee and muffins drifting through the air. I was smiling like an idiot, and had told Jasey why I was so adamant about getting out of school. I left out the part about Minho. To me he was just another human on this earth who happened to be dating my best friend, but he had a weird effect on me. I definitely didn’t tell Jasey. She didn’t ask. “Are you ready? Let’s just grab something to go, I’m really thirsty anyways.” I knew I couldn’t stand there like an idiot for any longer. I almost lost Chan once, the worst had already happened. I knew I was ready for anything. I took one last deep breath before bracing myself, and I took my first steps into the nostalgic feeling cafe.

I took in this new feeling, both the physical and mental aspects of it. It was exactly the kind of place that I dreamed of spending hours in, reading books and writing poetry. It had dim lights and a few couches, and wooden tables were scattered around the room. It’s exactly what I knew it would be, aside from a few changes here and there, but I couldn’t help but take it all in with wide eyes. Jasey had left to go order a drink for her and myself, and I went to the table that faces the window, like I had known myself to do many times before, yet never before while conscious. This was a feeling that I was starting to like very fast. At first I couldn’t remember why I was even here, but that was only for a moment. I looked around me, but I saw no sign of a dark haired boy with the eyes that I drowned in every night. There was barely anyone here, actually. I still saw my best friends backside at the counter, waiting for our drinks and striking up a conversation with the barista. A few seats over was a boy who caught my eye.

He had bright blonde hair that was down across his forehead. His shirt was tattered, but in a fashionable way, which he wore with black skinny jeans and dirty black converse. His eyes were piercing right into mine, a dark brown that I wish didn’t scare me as much as they did. I looked down at my hands to see them shaking the smallest bit. There was something about his presence that made me uncomfortable, but at the same time like I belonged even more. He looked out of place, but acted like it didn’t matter. Just like me. I looked up again, surprised to see that he was still staring at me with an unknown emotion in his eyes. He looked confused, almost. He stood up, and I unconsciously held my breath, not knowing why he was walking over to my table. The door was behind me, but he wasn’t looking at the door. He was looking right at me, almost as if he was looking through me. He stood 2 feet from me now at a dead stop. I studied his face, while I’m sure mine had “shock” written all over it.

“Allie?”

[dagoth-menthol]

Thinking in the rain

Marius sat in the workshop fidgeting with his pen, while trying to focus on the blueprint in front of him. He tried to work on this project since the finale of the tournament where Eliza and Jaimini had their big fight. Even a rock could see that everyone was more on edge these days, than ever before. 

This fight tore apart the whole team Rainbow. Everyone was now subconsciously sorted into seperate teams, each of them supporting either Eliza or Jaimini. It was natural that discussions would be happening and some of them would grow into more heated ones. Gustave and Harry had more work than ever. 

For the most part Marius was able to get around the conflicts, but it made him lonely in the process. A precaution he wasn't willing to take, but necessary.

His frustration grew by the minute and there was no way of stopping it.

And that was how time has been for the past month. He never imagined that he could work uninterrupted all by himself in the workshop. At first it was refreshing to work focused on everything, but after a week he grew sick of it.

He missed Dominic dropping by to discuss one of his creations or to just have a chat. And now the prankster wasn't really hanging out as much as he used to. 

Monika was also more or less doing her stuff alone. Most of the evenings he would drop by her room and they would discuss her own gadget improvements or her new stories. This reminded him about the last time she read a snippet to him. It ended with a cliffhanger. How will the story proceed further? But now she wasn’t feeling up to writing more.

Now he realised how stressed Elias was lately. Always trying his best to keep the Germans together. Their breaks were always spent together to eat in the mess hall, but now everyone just dropped by, when they felt like it. It was tiring to see how much Elias worked against his team falling apart slowly. He would just like to know the words to console everybody and to get everyone to work with each other as they did before. But how could he do that, when he didn't know how to help himself?

Marius was frustrated, these thoughts were circling in his head all the time when he started to work on his Magpies or on any other side project. They kept him from being productive. And many of the usual suspects in the workshop realized that this man had his head more in the clouds.

When he figured that it was impossible to concentrate on his project anymore, he got up from his chair in the workshop and decided to go for a walk. See what the others have been up to. So he walked around the workshop to look at the projects of the ones who were there at the moment. Only Shuhrat and Mark were, both of them focused on their work and not caring about Marius taking a look at their stuff. 

Since he didn't want to disturb their concentration, he silently got out of the workshop. 

As he got outside, it was as if he was finally coming out of the water. The air in the workshop was so heavy of all the metallic stenches from furious welding and soldering and any other chemicals that were used during their creative processes. Now the engineer was greeted by the smells of nature. 

Body stiff from all sitting in the wrong position while tinkering, made it crack at any movement. In order to get his body into a better shape, he decided to take a small walk outside. Also he befriended the idea of skipping his workshop projects in the evening, because he didn't want to exhaust himself because of the upcoming squad training the next morning. He knew himself so well that he could anticipate that if it weren't for the training, he'd stay there to tinker into the night.

It was a relief for him to finally be out of the tight space in the workshop, allowing himself some time to breath and settle his mind. So, he briefly went inside again to get himself a chair and a cold drink for sitting outside. Surely he seemed to be at peace for an outsider, but it was quite the contrary for him. The thought of their practice tomorrow made him a bit anxious. Who knows what they would be fighting over again? People are stressed and there was no way he could see to stop those tensions. His best option was to lay low, was it?

____________

The next morning came faster than anticipated. Being outside for so long, mulling over everything and nothing left him quite exhausted the following day. 

Tiredly he moved his body to get his morning coffee and decided to not eat, since stressing himself with sports and having a full stomach didn’t sit well with him. Also the engineer felt a bit nauseous when he woke up. 

The German quarters were already deserted, so he figured they had gone to eat breakfast in the mess hall. But they obviously chose to not wake him. Or maybe they tried, but he was still in a deep slumber. Yeah, that sounded more likely.

Still, or already exhausted, he walked to the mess hall by himself. As he finally reached the mess hall, it was already quite empty. What time was it anyways? 

The clock said 9 am sharp. He better hurry and eat his breakfast. After he wolfed it down, he left with the last ones to go to the training exercise. They had a rough day ahead that included many exercises and mock missions.

______________

Fuck them honestly. FUCK. THEM. Marius threw his helmet to the ground in anger, right beneath the feet of his team. He was so sick of everyone. Apparently it was his fault. Sure. His ADSs were the only gadgets that were protecting him, Dominic and Alexandr, who were the only three being "alive" to begin with. And if it wouldn't have been for Shuhrat who was the only one left on his team. Then they made the mistake of staying in the same room. And then they lost. Death by Matryoshka. 

Rookie mistake. Apparently one of Marius' Magpies had been destroyed already, so there was no way in hell that they could have protected them all at that moment. But sure. It was all his fault…

Dominic and Alexandr were now arguing loudly about how and why they had failed against one single opponent. Meanwhile Marius calmed a bit down from his outburst and collected his helmet. It didn't mean that he wasn't angry anymore, but not in the mood to jump at everyone's throats at least.

Angry because of the accusations against him, he went out of the training area by himself. On his way back to the facilities, he made a stop and went outside for a bit. He hadn't realized that it was already this dark out. Sadly the stars were covered by thick clouds, preventing even the moonlight from shining through. Time flies when you are not having fun and work endlessly without any long pauses to even get a glimpse of boredom.

The exhausted engineer put his helmet lazily under his arm and just looked at the sky. 

It was raining. Nothing unusual for England. The droplets were running down his face, cooling down his temper even more. Easing all the tension that was built up inside him.

He allowed his thoughts to drift away. 

Why was he here? What led up to it?

Easy to answer? No, not really.

But there was something else that dawned on him that his subconscious tried to tell him, it was only the right question that needed to be asked. 

Why was it here? What led up to it?

Easy to answer? Yes, with certainty.

First it started with a Big Bang and lots of dust began to expand through the universe. Masses formed that led to other masses forming around them. Like our own star system. The sun has the biggest mass and the planets have the smaller masses. The planets circle around the sun in an endless dance. 

As the planets formed, so did their surfaces. Earth's surface was rugged, dangerous and ever changing. Volcanoes spurt out their lava and caused the air to become toxic due to all the emitted smoke clouds from these eruptions. Over millions of years Earth stayed this angry and uninhabitable place.

For millions of years it rained and smoothed Earth's features. Only by cooling the surface, it was possible for the oceans to form. Calming Earth down was the inevitable step to create life and let it prosper. First it was the bacteria that could survive on its own, feeding from the Black Smoker. Later, the first bacteria came to life and made Earth like it is today. The air is breathable, not only for small bacteria, but also for bigger organisms that need air to breath. 

Countless species have formed and wander the Earth. 

One of them is Marius. 

The one who was standing outside of Hereford's training area, soaking wet from all the rain and thought about the miracle of life. 

A hand was placed onto his right shoulder. As adrenalin started to rush at lightning speed, he turned around quickly, almost losing his helmet already.

"I called out to you a few times. What were you thinking about for so long?" Asked Shuhrat. His voice sounded even more concerned than his worried eyes, the only part not being obscured by the balaclava he wore under his helmet.

"Uhm… the miracle of life. How life came to be on this rock that was flying through space."

There was silence. Both were standing next to each other, each of them back into their own minds, staring at the sky. Rain falling onto their clothes was the only sound they could hear. 

The wind picked up and it became quite uncomfortable in the now soaked clothing. 

"Why are you thinking about all that anyways?" Shuhrat asked after a while.

"I try to understand why it happened. I am not one to lose my cool that easily. Did you realize that everyone is more on edge than usual? You know, everything feels so connected."

"How so? Why think about the creation of the world, when your problems in that sense lie way more in the present?"

That made Marius think for a bit. Not because he didn't know the reason, but how to describe it to be understandable. In his mind it made all sense, but would it for his friend?

"You know. Earth in her beginnings was full of volcanoes. Like our problem. Imagine Team Rainbow as our many volcanoes. Each of them erupts at the slightest stress. And it is not even me, who snaps, but many others. And I don't know why and how to make it all like it used to be..." 

"Do you think there is something that could help?"

"The rain. Rain caused life to prosper, so when we get out of this kind of crisis, maybe we are able to be even greater and better than before?"

That got a thoughtful hum as an answer. Shuhrat being as engulfed in that thought as his friend. Both were standing there silently again, but now it felt like it could all be better again. The hope that they get over this was a pleasant and warming thought. It wasn't that cold now, since they stepped inside, so they remained there and enjoyed the light rain.

Note: 

This work is part of the for the writer artist pairup and based on Dorka's artwork that can find under this link: https://twitter.com/_freedert/status/1422107021785149440?s=20

It was a pleasure to work take part in the event and I hope that you enjoy what I wrote!

Speaking of writing, thank you very much @titan-wolfdog for beta-reading!!! (I am so sorry that this was quite a mess haha)