#CHILDRENS DAY GREETINGS MESSAGE
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falesten-iw · 2 months ago
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When I first joined Tumblr, I had no idea what I was walking into. There’s no manual for navigating this wild, untamed corner of the internet. My first moment here? I was greeted by an image completely naked, no warning, no explanation. It was just there, bold and unapologetic. That’s when I realized: Tumblr is a place where anything can happen.
But for all its chaos, Tumblr has become something far greater than I ever expected. For us Palestinians, this platform isn’t just a space to scroll through memes or vent about life. It’s a lifeline, a place where we’ve taken the raw, messy energy of this site and turned it into a battleground for survival. Here, we tell our stories, raise funds, and fight for our lives.
I’ve seen campaigns soar past their goals, bringing hope to families barely holding on. But I’ve also seen campaigns like mine, ones that fight tooth and nail for every single dollar, every reblog, every addition, and every ounce of hope. My family’s lives depend on this.
It hasn’t been easy. Zionists flood all Palestinian words with hate, twisting truths and spreading lies. They aim to discredit us, to make people doubt us. It’s exhausting. Some nights, I sit with my phone in my hands, wondering if this fight is too big for me. But then something beautiful happens: a donation comes through, a kind message appears, or someone I’ve never met reblogs my story with words that feel like a warm embrace.
And through it all, people are starting to see the truth. The hate doesn’t drown us; it sharpens our voices. Every day, more people step forward to stand with us, to say, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m with you.” It’s those moments that keep me going.
To everyone who has already helped, whether through verification, donating, wrting post , reblogging, or simply sharing a kind word: thank you. You’ve done more for my family than I could ever put into words. But the reality is, we’re not there yet. My family is still waiting for a chance to breathe, to live without fear, to fill their empty stomachs with warm food, and to wrap themselves in clothes thick enough to keep out the bitter cold. They’re hungry, they’re freezing, and I can’t do this alone.
This fight is hard, but it’s not hopeless. Strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Some of you have shown up in ways I never imagined, treating my family’s survival as if it were your own. That kind of solidarity? It’s powerful.
Tumblr might be chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright bizarre, but it’s also the place where we’ve built something extraordinary: a community that refuses to look away from injustice. With your help, we can take this fight all the way. My family’s lives are within reach, and together, I know we’ll get there.
This campaign isn’t just about me. It supports 26 people, including two orphaned children and an injured family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. Surgery is desperately needed to replace the infected and failing plates. The needs are urgent, and the future of 26 lives depends on your support.
The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.
Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
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rumisgf · 7 months ago
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❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI
✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you
✮ always hugs you by your lower waist
✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”
✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way
✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”
✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”
✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own
✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby
✮ bites you just because he can
✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude
✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you
✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time
TODOROKI SHOTO
✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes
✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.
✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel
✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands
✮ loves giving earlobe kisses
✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”
✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you
✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks
✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”
✮ him whispering in your ear.
✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages
KIRISHIMA EIJIROU
✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)
✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way
✮ constant forehead kisses
✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you
✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together
✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him
✮ him around kids. that’s all.
✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday
✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose
✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him
✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends
KAMINARI DENKI
✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice
✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”
✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you
✮ blows kisses at you from across the room
✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you
✮ his morning voice :)))
✮ lets you bite him and encourages it
✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap
✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts
✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children
✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”
✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day
HITOSHI SHINSOU
✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions
✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact
✮ “say please”
✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face
✮ has a habit of biting his lip
✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.
✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist
✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you
✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself
✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous
✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you
✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”
IIDA TENYA
✮ always opens every door for you
✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways
✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you
✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”
✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning
✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time
✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead
✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying
✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye
✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his heart swells at imagining you as a mother
✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest
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© rumisgf
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lokischocolatefountain · 7 months ago
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home in three days, do not wash
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Fandom: Gladiator II Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: age gap, mild choking, mentions of child death, hurt comfort, breeding kink, lactation, reader has children, taboo for the time oral sex, talk of war. Word count: 3.6k words Summary: Your General returns home ravenous for you and you cannot decline him, even if any exposure of his act would bring him great shame. A/N: Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the awesome graphics. Napoleon said 'be home in three days, do not wash' and what was I supposed to do? Not use it for our big thicc roman general returning home from war to fuck us? I did research and shit and came to know that eating pussy was a big no no back in the day. dj Khaled would love to be an ancient roman ig. also learned that rich ladies didn't breastfeed and used a wet nurse but they knew that breastfeeding could help and some women did it. Outside all that research, it's just depravity, baby. Anyway, validate my depravity with some comments pls.
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Laughter echoed through the hallways of your palatial home and you stood at a balcony with the best view from atop the hill. The campaign that had taken your husband away had finally come to an end with victory for Rome. Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, you were always one of the last people to receive the latest news of importance. This time was an exception to the rule. 
Home in three days. Do not wash.
All you wanted when you received the message was to run in the direction of the roads that would bring your beloved home. Three days were too long. You wanted to curtail the long wait, run to him so you would be in one another’s arms in a day and a half. 
But you chose the more realistic path and prepared the home for his arrival. The servants polished every surface, your handmaiden ensured you had all your most preferred clothing— that which he loved to see on your body. The kitchen was busy preparing every meal that the master loved. Your two older children with your general busied themselves recollecting everything they learned from their private tutor to impress their father. 
Your youngest, your first son, was still so young he had never met his father. He was the child your dearest had longed to have for so long. For all the luck the gods had given him in the battlefield, they had given very little in the way of children to carry his legacy. In his heart, he was father to seven daughters and six sons. The gods had only allowed four daughters to live. Two of his sons passed in infancy, one passed in birth, taking his mother with him. One other was taken by disease and another killed in battle. 
He now had only one son and he hadn’t yet the joy of holding him in his arms. Everyday that Marcus was in the battlefield was torture. Babe on your breast and fear in your heart over whether his father would live to see him. Fear sometimes subsided for anger to have its way. That very anger remained in your chest, prepared to unleash on him the moment he stepped into the home. 
When the sun dimmed, night crept in and so did Marcus. You refused to greet him at the door. A warm welcome was reserved for men who told their wives where they were going before they left. You had half a mind to ask for a bath to be prepared. To wash yourself with milk and fragrant oils in front of him so he could see your defiance in action. 
But you remained in the balcony, eyes set on the moon who served as your companion when he left you. For all the fury you had for him, there was also an ache of sympathy. You wouldn’t sour his mood the moment he entered. He must see his son first. Then you would see to that he groveled at your feet for his cruelty. 
Just as you thought, you had a long time to relax on the settee. He always went to his children first. Be it after months away on the battlefield or a mere day in the city. You asked for your son’s crib to be moved to your daughters’ room so he would be able to see them all at once, saving him the battle of choosing between his great loves. You’d sent word to him on the battlefield after you gave birth, sent him the name of his son so he would know to include him in his prayers. 
You heard whispers of his voice conversing with a servant. Your heart quickened its pace, each thud against your ribs matching the thuds of his feet against the floor. Oh how you wanted to turn around. It had been so long since your eyes were blessed with him. His towering height, broad frame, the pink of his lips and the curls you so loved to comb through with your fingers. You trembled, the cold breeze reminding you how devoid you’d been of his warmth. Yet you were resolved to not give yourself up to him so soon. You stayed in place and closed your eyes.
He stopped behind you and your name spilled from his lips like honey. It had been so long since anyone spoke your name so… The servants called you mistress and your children called you mother. Your birth family only wrote your name in their many letters. He was the only one who spoke your name, leaving you without hearing your own name since his departure. But you stayed, did not turn, did not open your eyes. He spoke it again, his voice gentle but louder as he stopped at your side. 
“Open your eyes, dearest.” 
“Where have you come, General?” You asked, your voice cold enough to be the envy of the winter breeze. 
“General?” He asked, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. 
“Are you not a General?” You taunted, finally opening your eyes. He looked weary from battle and travel. You longed to take him to your chambers and strip him of his armor to count his wounds, kiss each one be it new or old. His hair was grayer than when he left, his skin duller, but his eyes were still the soft brown that gave you peace when you first saw him as his young bride. 
“Your General,” he said with a small smile as though his words were supposed to make you forgive him at once and shower him with kisses. It only strengthened your resolve. If he wouldn’t treat you as a wife, you wouldn’t give him the respect of a husband. 
“You have a son,” you said, stretching your legs out in the settee just as he made to take his seat there. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked it off, daring him to make another attempt at moving your legs so he could sit. He smiled softly, conceding as he moved to stand by your head. 
“He is beautiful, mellilla,” he said, caressing your cheek. You slapped his hand away. All of Rome may fall at his feet and welcome him back with praises of his victory. He was deserving of course, not only for his achievements but for his undying loyalty to Rome. If Rome were a woman, she would be his principal wife and you— you would only be a tavern whore he fucked and left in the dead of night. 
“You block the moonlight, General Acacius.” 
“Marcus,” he said, moving to allow you sight of the moon once again. He sat in the little remaining space on the settee and looked down at you. Despite the toll war had taken on him, he was incredibly handsome. Bold nose, pink lips and graying curls that only made him look ever so slightly more distinguished. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You did not return the kiss, but you did not push him away. There was an limit even to your anger. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the act of denying yourself the joy of your lover weighing heavy in your heart.
“I’m afraid I haven’t such an honor.” You bit down on your lip, annoyed at yourself for the trembling of your voice as you spoke. Your anger for him had a foundation of pain after all. 
His face fell and he sighed. He looked down at his lap and you hoped it was from shame.
“If you have nothing to say, you may leave. If you need it, you may summon the servants for your meal. But I am sure the emperor did not send his best general hungering for food or cunt,” you spat, rising to sit up on the settee. Hand as strong as iron wrapped around your wrist, coupling with his strong torso that trapped you in place to keep you from getting up. You squirmed in his grasp, but he did not budge.
“Listen to me.” 
“Is that an order?” 
He wrapped an arm around you and held your cheek in his hand. You looked up at him, giving him biting fury to his firm yet gentle gaze. “If it is the only way I will have your obedience, then yes. It is an order.” 
“You may speak, but you cannot make me listen and you most certainly cannot make me respond.” 
“I am your husband.” 
“A husband doesn’t leave for a year long war at the dead of night with no explanation to the woman swelling with his child,” you screamed, fist slamming against his chest. It didn’t affect Marcus. Nothing affected the great General Acacius, you thought with derision. You hit him in the chest again, tears brimming in your eyes and clouding your vision.
“Forgive me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You ceased your attacks as his apology coupled with the pain in his eyes reduced you to tears. You’d kept everything in for so long, put on a brave face for your daughters and hid your heart in your letter to your father. It was only with Marcus that you didn’t need to hide. He always tore your fears down and pulled you into the safety of his arms.
“I wouldn’t have been able to leave had I said goodbye.” 
“I was so afraid,” you confessed, leaning into his chest. Every pretense of strength and composure left your body as you let him hold you to his chest. The gold earrings you wore to please his eyes pressed cold against your skin under his hand. He moved next to your hair and then you neck, the hand that held swords and spilled blood only to return home to love you. 
“Carissima…You were all I could think of after I left. Forgive me,” he begged, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to each finger. 
“Later. I have missed you. Marcus,” you whispered, craning your neck to kiss him. He returned your kiss in an instant, arms cradling you as you devoured each other. He smelled of war— blood, soil, sweat, and leather. It was far more pleasing to your senses than any fragrant oils and flowers. Your Marcus and his distinctly masculine scent was above all but the fragrance of your newborn. 
You whined as he retreated. He laughed and returned to scatter kisses along your jawline like Rome scattered rose petals along the steps of the Colosseum for his feet. He reached under your layers of silk and linen, making you tremble and press yourself closer to his chest. 
“So soft…” 
“I need you, please.” It was all he needed to hear before he walked up to the doors of the balcony and slammed them shut. What he did with you, for you, wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes but your own. 
He unlatched the gold clips that held your palla to your shoulders and set them aside. Your stola and tunic followed, piling up on the marble floor. Cold air caressed your bare breasts, bigger and fuller now as you nursed your son yourself. You traced your hand up his arm, feeling his vambrace before finding his muscular arms. You whimpered from just how big he was in your hands. You squeezed, feeling the hard muscle and rough skin. 
Your General knelt before you and you sat up straight, confused by his action. He couldn’t be… You sought his apologies and regret, but by no means would you ask him to humiliate himself for you. Such a man, superior to you in every way. 
“Dominus!” You shrieked, reminding him who he was even when he came home. 
“Shh…” 
“Are you going to—?”
“Lick you cunt? Yes. Sit back, now,” he said as he guided you to lean back on the settee. You shook your head from side to side, appalled by the circumstances and confused as to how you were supposed to stop him. He spread your legs wide, planting your feet upon the seat. He licked his plush lips and looked up at you, his eyes those of a ravenous beast. 
“You cannot. I only want you to understand the torture you put me through, not debase yourself in front of me. It’s not right.”  
A corner of his lips curled up slightly. He spat on his hand and rubbed it into your cunt. You arched into his palm, your cunt chasing any contact you could have with your beloved. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” 
“You.”
“Speak fully and speak my name.” 
“I belong to you, Marcus.” 
“Correct. Why do you think then, that you can tell me what I can and cannot do with you?” 
He parted your cunt lips and slid a finger inside you. “You belong to me. All of you. This cunt belongs to me. Does it not?” You nodded as he pumped his thick finger in and out of you. It had been so long since you’d been touched that even his finger felt a little much for you to take. You shuddered as you thought of his cock, promising the virility that came with such a size. 
“Speak,” he commanded, every bit the fearsome General who led men into battle. When even warriors couldn’t defy him, how could you? 
“It belongs to you, Marcus.” 
“Mmm,” he rumbled, curling his finger inside you, making you whimper. “If I want to lick this cunt then, do you have any right to stop me?” 
“N-no,” you cried, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to slow down for you couldn’t take such intoxicating pleasure. “If peo— Marcus! If someone knew—”
Then he dove into your core and licked the nub above your cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. He looked up at you from between your legs, tongue still licking you as he smirked. It was sinful, the sight and the act of a man serving a woman. You shook your head, your senses already addled from being so close to him after a long year. It was wrong. Wrong. But oh gods, he made all the wrongs feel right and who were you to deny him? 
Tears rolled down your cheeks, no longer from the agony of separation from your dearest but from the building pressure in your core. 
“Marcus…” you said, unable to say anything else. You reached your hand towards him, needing to be anchored to the Earth as he flew you to the heavens. He enveloped your hand in his and gave a small squeeze. His other hand and his lips were unrelenting, giving him new ways to torment you. 
How did anyone deem it submissive for a man to kneel and lick cunt? Your Marcus still looked as majestic as ever. The picture of victory that Rome worshiped. The Marcus Acacius who slew and killed was home and ruthless in his conquest of you. Even as he licked your core, he was the one with all the power in hand. This was but a new way for him to take you. 
You gasped inaudibly as he inserted another finger in your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his cock. You felt your unraveling come closer. He pulled you deeper into whatever spell he had you under whenever he touched your cunt. You squeezed his hand tighter, saying everything your lips couldn’t. Hold me, keep me safe, never let me go.
The waves crashed against the rocks on the shores of the beach as you came crashing down from the heavens. Marcus kept his wordless promise. You tightened your legs around his head yet he held you in place and kept you safe. 
When you came to, you found your fingers tangled in between his dark curls. You loosened your grip on him but did not let go, needing to feel him even if it was just his hair. 
“I should not have liked that.” 
He laughed and gave your cunt another lick, smirking as he watched you shudder. 
“But you did,” he said, getting up at last. “I knew you tasted divine, but having you directly from your cunt is something else, melilla.” 
“I have not washed in days because of you. I am sure I taste horrendous.” 
“Good girl, following orders well. But you are wrong. You taste and smell like a woman. Not a perfumed woman. This,” he said in a low voice as the tip of his nose traced up your neck. He inhaled your scent and moaned. “This is nothing you can find in a vial. This is your true scent,” he said, stopping at your ear and placing a kiss. 
“I would recognize it anywhere.” He reached under his pteruges and toga and retrieved his cock. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of him. 
He was far too covered. As much as you loved to see your General in his armor, you loved more to see him bare. You needed to run your fingers over his bare chest and dig your fingernails into his shoulders as he wrung his pleasure out of you.  You found the ties that held his armor in place and began to undo them. 
“Impatient girl,” he chided as he aligned himself with your cunt. 
“Help me out then,” you snapped back as you struggled with the knots. He ignored your request and continued on his path of destroying you, plunging his length inside you much too quickly. You cried from the pain and pleasure of being stretched out by him once again. 
“Marcus!” 
He bent forward and whispered your name against your lips before claiming them. You moaned into the kiss as you rubbed yourself against him for friction. You were loath to pull away from his cock even the slightest as you ached for him too much to part from him. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your heels down on his back, pulling him deeper inside you. 
He wrapped a hand around your throat, tightening and loosening every now and then. “Day and night, I longed for you,” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. “Dreamt of the day I would be inside you again.” 
You echoed the sentiment, but he quickly silenced you with a hard thrust that you felt in the deepest part of your core. He wasn’t the gentle Marcus who treated you like you did your fine silks but the General who conquered every land he set foot on. He rammed in and out of you, reclaiming you as his. Your cunt opened up to take its master, molded itself around him like it did each time since your wedding night. He had taken you, his young bride, and shown you a world only he could. He’d taken and taken, made you a woman by showing you what your body could do for you. 
He licked up your neck, growling like he was tasting the finest delicacies from the emperors’ table after being starved for months. “You smell sweet, Carisimma.” 
“You lived in tents with men for a year. I’m sure a pig would smell sweet to you now,” you said, making him laugh even as he wrecked you. He reached down to your breasts and grabbed one in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers and tugged, making you cry out in pain. 
“Marcus!” Drops of milk trickled from your breasts and he swiped it with him thumb before licking it. 
“I only regret that I could not see you grow bigger with my seed.” 
“You ha- you have seen it before.” 
“Yet I am not satisfied. I need more, I need to fill you up with my seed, keep you full with my children in perpetuity.” 
“Marcus! Please…” 
“What do you beg for, girl?” 
“Give me sons, Marcus. Let me give you heirs,” you cried, overcome by the need to become his in that primal way. It was more than just your duty as his wife. It was an innate desire. As frightening as pregnancy was, you wanted it again and again at the hands of your husband. To give him sons carry his name and daughters who would control the great General with their laughter. 
“Give me sons,” he repeated, the hand around your neck squeezing tight. This time, he did not relax, holding your air hostage as he used your cunt for his carnal desires. You gasped for breath. Your cunt squeezed around him, keeping him in so he would give you his seed and refusing to let go even for a moment. 
Every thrust after sent delicious ripples of pain. You knew that you would wake the next morning unable to walk as usual. You would hear your servant girls giggle when they thought you couldn’t hear. He would wreck you day and night, make you scream for all the house to hear. He would take you to high places in the city, an arrogant smile on his lips as he showed you off, rounded again with his child. 
As though he could read your thoughts, he spilled inside you with a cry of your name. You held him close, afraid he would part from your body and rob you of his warmth. 
He showered you with kisses, beginning as a downpour and ending with a drizzle. You melted into his arms, the tension in your muscles leaving now that you had your Marcus home. You were no longer alone, he was here and he would take care of everything. 
“Am I forgiven now?” 
You smiled, burrowing into his chest as draped your discarded silk over you and picked you up in his arms. “I will consider it if you make sure I don’t bleed this cycle.” 
You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. A kiss on the top of your head.
“As you say, melilla.”
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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Yandere! Android x Reader (I)
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It is the future and you have been tasked to solve a mysterious murder that could jeopardize political ties. Your assigned partner is the newest android model meant to assimilate human customs. You must keep his identity a secret and teach him the ways of earthlings, although his curiosity seems to be reaching inappropriate extents.
Yes, this is based on Asimov’s “Caves of Steel” because Daneel Olivaw was my first ever robot crush. I also wanted a protagonist that embraces technology. :)
Content: female reader, AI yandere, 50's futurism
[Part 2] | [More original works]
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You follow after the little assistant robot, a rudimentary machine invested with basic dialogue and spatial navigation. It had caused quite the ruckus when first introduced. One intern - well liked despite being somewhat clumsy at his job - was sadly let go as a result. Not even the Police is safe from the threat of AI, is what they chanted outside the premises.
"The Commissioner has summoned you, (Y/N)." 
That's how it greeted you earlier, clacking its appendage against the open door in an attempt to simulate a knock. 
"Do you know why my presence is needed?" You inquire and wait for the miniature AI to scan the audio message. 
"I am not allowed to mention anything right now." It finally responds after agonizing seconds.
 It's an alright performance. You might've been more impressed by it, had you not witnessed first hand the Spacer technology that could put any modern invention here on Earth to shame. Sadly the people down here are very much against artificial intelligence. There have been multiple protests recently, like the one in front of your building, condemning the latest government suggestion regarding automation. People fear for their jobs and safety and you don't necessarily blame them for having self preservation. On the other hand, you've always been a supporter of progress. As a child you devoured any science fiction book you could get your hands on, and now, as a high ranked police detective you still manage to sneak away and scan over articles and news involving the race for a most efficient computer.
You close the door behind you and the Commissioner puts his fat cigarette out, twisting the remains into the ashtray with monotonous movements as if searching for the right words.
 "There's been a murder." Is all he settles on saying, throwing a heavy folder in your direction. A hologram or tablet might've been easier to catch, but the man, like many of his coworkers, shares a deep nostalgia for the old days. 
 You flip through the pages and eventually furrow your eyebrows. 
"This would be a disaster if it made it to the news." You mumble and look up at the older man. "Shouldn't this go to someone more experienced?" 
He twiddles with his grey mustache and glances out the fake window. 
"It's a sensitive case. The Spacers are sending their own agent to collaborate with us. What stands out to you?" 
You narrow your eyes and focus on the personnel sheet. What's there to cause such controversy? Right before giving up, departing from the page, you finally notice it: next to the Spacer officer's name, printed clearly in black ink, is a little "R." which is a commonly used abbreviation to indicate something is a robot. The chief must've noticed your startled reaction and continues, satisfied: 
"You understand, yes? They're sending an android. Supposedly it replicates a human perfectly in terms of appearance, but it does not possess enough observational data. Their request is that whoever partners up with him will also house him and let him follow along for the entirety of the mission. You're the only one here openly supporting those tin boxes. I can't possibly ask one of your higher ups, men with wives and children, to...you know...bring that thing in their house."
You're still not sure whether to be offended by the fact that your comfort seems to be of less priority compared to other officers. Regardless of the semantics, you're presently standing at the border between Earth and the Spacer colony, awaiting your case partner. A man emerges from behind a security gate. He's tall, with handsome features and an elegant walk. He approaches you and you reach for a handshake. 
"Is the android with you?" You ask, a little confused. 
"Is this your first time seeing a Spacer model?" He responds, relaxed. "I am the agent in your care. There is no one else." 
You take a moment to process the information, similar to the primitive machine back at your office. Could it be? You've always known that Spacer technology is years ahead, but this surpasses your wildest dreams. There is not a single detail hinting at his mechanical fundament. The movement is fluid, the speech is natural, the design is impenetrable. He lifts the warm hand he'd used for the handshake and gently presses a finger against your chin in an upwards motion. You find yourself involuntarily blushing. 
"Your mouth was open. I assumed you'd want it discreetly corrected." He states, factually, with a faint smile on his lips. Is he amused? Is such a feeling even possible? You try your best to regain some composure, adjusting the collar of your shirt and clearing your throat. 
"Thank you and please excuse my rudeness. I was not expecting such a flawless replica. Our assistants are...easily recognizable as AI."
"So I've been told." His smile widens and he checks his watch. You follow his gesture, still mesmerized, trying to find a single indicator that the man standing before you is indeed a machine, a synthetic product.
Nothing.
"Shall we?" He eyes the exit path and you quickly lead him outside and towards public transport. 
He patiently waits for your fingerprint scan to be complete. You almost turn around and apologize for the old, lagging device. As a senior detective, you have the privilege of living in the more spacious, secured quarters of the city. And, since you don't have a family, the apartment intended for multiple people looks more like a luxury adobe. Still, compared to the advanced way of the Spacers, this must feel like poverty to the android.
At last, the scanner beeps and the door unlocks. 
"Heh...It's a finicky model." You mumble and invite him in.
"Yes, I'm familiar with these systems." He agrees with you and steps inside, unbuttoning his coat.
"Oh, you've seen this before?"
"In history books."
You scratch your cheek and laugh awkwardly, wondering how much of his knowledge about the current life on Earth is presented as a museum exhibit when compared to Spacer society. 
"I'm going to need a coffee. I guess you don't...?" Your words trail as you await confirmation. 
"I would enjoy one as well, if it is not too much to ask. I've been told it's a social custom to 'get coffee' as a way to have small talk." The synthetic straightens his shirt and looks at you expectantly. 
"Of course. I somehow assumed you can't drink, but if you're meant to blend in with humans...it does make sense you'd have all the obvious requirements built in."
He drags a chair out and sits at the small table, legs crossed.
"Indeed. I have been constructed to have all the functions of a human, down to every detail." 
You chuckle lightly. Well, not like you can verify it firsthand. The engineers back at the Spacer colony most likely didn't prepare him for matters considered unnecessary. 
"I do mean every detail." He adds, as if reading your mind. "You are free to see for yourself."
You nearly drop the cup in your flustered state. You hurry to wipe the coffee that spilled onto the counter and glance back at the android, noticing a smirk on his face. What the hell? Are they playing a prank on you and this is actually a regular guy? Some sort of social experiment? 
"I can see they included a sense of humor." You manage to blurt out, glaring at him suspiciously. 
"I apologize if I offended you in any way. I'm still adjusting to different contexts." The android concludes, a hint of mischief remaining on his face. "Aren't rowdy jokes common in your field of work?"
"Uh huh. Spot on." You hesitantly place the hot drink before him.
Robots on Earth have always been built for the purpose of efficiency. Whether or not a computer passes the Turing Test is irrelevant as long as it performs its task in the most optimal, rational way. There have been attempts, naturally, to create something indistinguishable from a human, but utility has always taken precedence. It seems that Spacers think differently. Or perhaps they have reached their desired level of performance a long time ago, and all that was left was fiddling with aesthetics. Whatever the case is, you're struggling not to gawk in amazement at the man sitting in your kitchen, stirring his coffee with a bored expression.
"I always thought - if you don't mind my honesty - that human emotions would be something to avoid when building AI. Hard to implement, even harder to control and it doesn't bring much use."
"I can understand your concerns. However, let me reassure you, I have a strict code of ethics installed in my neural networks and thus my emotions will never lead to any destructive behavior. All safety concerns have been taken into consideration.
As for why...How familiar are you with our colony?" The android takes a sip of his coffee and nods, expressing his satisfaction. "Perhaps you might be aware, Spacers have a declining population. Automated assistants have been part of our society for a long time now. What's lacking is humans. If the issue isn't fixed, artificial humans will have to do."
You scoff.
"What, us Earth men aren't good enough to fix the birth rates? They need robots?"
You suddenly remember the recipient of your complaint and mutter an apology. 
"Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine contender. Sadly I can't speak for everyone else on Earth." The man smiles in amusement upon seeing the pale red that's now dusting your cheeks, then continues: "But the issue lies somewhere else. Spacers have left Earth a long time ago and lived in isolation until now. Once an organism has lost its immune responses to otherwise common pathogens, it cannot be reintegrated."
True. Very few Earth citizens are allowed to enter the colony, and only do so after thorough disinfection stages, proving they are disease free as to not endanger the fragile health of the Spacers living in a sterile environment. You can only imagine the disastrous outcome if the two species were to abruptly mingle. In that case, equally sterile machinery might be their only hope.
Your mind wanders to the idea. Dating a robot...How's that? You sheepishly gaze at the android and study his features. His neatly combed copper hair, the washed out blue eyes, the pale skin. Probably meant to resemble the Spacers. You shake your head.
"A-anyways, I'll go and gather all the case files I have. Then we can discuss our first steps. Do feel at home."
You rush out and head for your office. Focus, you tell yourself mildly annoyed.
While you search for the required paperwork - what a funny thing to say in this day and age - he will certainly take up on your generous offer to make himself comfortable. The redhaired man enters the living room, scanning everything with curious eyes. He stops in front of a digital frame and slides through the photos. Ah, this must be your Police Academy graduation. The year matches with the data he's received on you. Data files he might've read one too many times in his unexplained enthusiasm. This should be you and the Commissioner; Doesn't match the description of your father, and he seems too old to be a spouse or boyfriend. Additionally, the android distinctly recalls the empty 'Relationship' field.
"Old photos are always a tad embarrassing. I suppose you skipped that stage."
He jolts almost imperceptibly and faces you. You have returned with a thin stack of papers and a hologram projector.
"I've digitalized most files I received, so you don't have to shuffle a bunch of paper around." You explain.
"That is very useful, thank you." He gently retrieves the small device from your hand, but takes a moment before removing his fingers from yours. "I predict this will be a successful partnership."
You flash him a friendly smile and gesture towards the seating area.
"Let's get to work, then. Unless you want to go through more boring albums." You joke as you lower yourself onto the plush sofa. 
The synthetic human joins you at an unexpectedly close proximity. You wonder if proper distance differs among Spacers or if he has received slightly erroneous information about what makes a comfortable rapport. 
"Nothing boring about it. In fact, I'd say you and I are very similar from this point of view." He tells you, placing the projector on the table.
"Oh?"
"Your interest in technology and artificial intelligence is rather easy to infer." The man continues, pointing vaguely towards the opposing library. "Aside from the briefing I've already received about you, that is."
"And that is similar to...the interest in humans you've been programmed to have?" You interject, unsure where this conversation is meant to lead. 
"Almost."
His head turns fully towards you and you stare back into his eyes. From this distance you can finally discern the first hints of his nature: the thin disks shading the iris - possibly CCD sensors - are moving in a jagged, mechanical manner. Actively analyzing and processing the environment. 
"I wouldn't go as far as to generalize it to all humans. 
Just you."
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months ago
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Jacaerys returns to Dragonstone after spending some time in Winterfell. He comes back looking differently…and has learned some new things 😏👅🐱
Request: 9 for Jacee ‘’Where have you learned to do that?’’
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), slight fingering, assumption of cheating
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Months have gone by since the prince Jacaerys left for Winterfell to gain House Stark and the North for the cause of his mother, Queen Rhaenyra. His visit should have been a short one, but Cregan Stark insisted he spent more time in the North. According to his letter, Lord Stark had taken a liking to him and wanted Jacaerys to get a true experience of the North. He said that getting closer to the northmen would help gain their support. 
Life on Dragonstone was lonely without him. A part of yourself was missing. 
You spent time with Baela and Rhaena, helped Lucerys get more confident with his dragon, played with Joffrey when no one would. You were in the early stages of a civil war, the adults didn’t have much time for the young boy. The Queen was grateful for your help. 
A few days ago, after you got back from riding your dragon, a raven came from Winterfell — a new message from Jacaerys saying he should be expected to return in the late afternoon. 
Excitement bubbled in your stomach. 
Rushing to your chamber, you didn't want to greet him smelling of dragon. You shed your riding clothes as a handmaid helped you fill your tub with hot water. She added rose oil to make your skin soft and you made sure to scrub extra hard with the brush. You wanted to look nice for Jacaerys. 
After bathing, you put on a clean dress and asked Baela for help with your hair. She was the best at braiding. 
‘’Do you think he missed me while he was away?’’ 
Behind you, Baela chuckled as she twisted your braids and pinned them. ‘’I wouldn't doubt it, Lady Y/N.’’ 
Hearing a dragon's roar, you jumped and went to your window. The air was gloomy, making it difficult to see through the horizon. You bit your lip, searching for an olive green shape. Although he was a small dragon, Vermax’s red wings were easy to discern in the skies.
You glanced over your shoulder to Baela. ‘’They’re here.’’ 
She finished your hair, ensuring every strand fell perfectly in place, and you descended the stairs with Baela on your tracks. 
As you reached the great hall, you saw the Queen and her children standing near the painted table, accompanied by a hubbub of voices. Lucerys talked animatedly about sword practice while a very excited Joffrey was jumping on his feet, excited to see his big brother. Rhaenyra told them to quiet down and give Jacaerys some air, which made you laugh. 
The sound caught their attention, and Jacaerys' eyes shifted to you. 
He had grown since he left — his shoulders broader, his stature more commanding. His once pin-straight hair now cascaded in soft curls that framed his face perfectly. He looked nothing like a Targaryen anymore. 
‘’Jace,’’ you whispered, a smile lighting up your face as you approached him.
For supper, a small feast was held in his honor. Daemon and Rhaena joined you for the meal, raising their cup to Jacaerys’ return. 
When the hour started to get late, you and Jacaerys retired to your chamber. Half-way there up the stairs, he pulled you into a corner of the staircase and kissed you the way he had been dying to since he got back. You pulled a moan out of him when your teeth glided against his bottom lip, and circled your arms around his neck as his hands were gripping your hips with a strength that was new. 
A voice came from the staircase below — probably one of the servants —, prying the two of you apart. You giggled against Jacaerys' shoulder. 
Once you reached the privacy of your chamber, Jacaerys shut the door and drew you to him again as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. You moaned under the touch of his mouth, melting against him as your fingers worked on each other’s clothes, pulling at the laces and buckles until they fell off your bodies and onto the floor.
You tried to not step on your dress as you walked back to the bed, then let your shift slip down your shoulders and pool at your feet, leaving you fully naked. 
‘’Gods.’’ 
You blushed as Jacaerys followed down your neck to between your legs, taking his time to admire your body. You had never felt truly desired before him. Only objectified — as were all women in Westeros.  
‘’Do you like what you see, my Prince?’’ you asked, his eyes finding their way back to yours. 
Jacaerys didn’t respond. All he did was gently push you down into the bed. 
You expected him to get on the bed too, but to your surprise, he kneeled at the end of it and pulled you close to the edge. A frown drew between your eyebrows as you looked down. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing on the floor, but the words got caught in your throat as Jacaerys kissed the inside of your thighs. 
It was something new, but not disagreeable.  
Then, he pushed your thighs further apart and pressed the sweetest kiss right over your slit, causing you to squirm. 
‘’Jace, what are you—’’
Your question died on your tongue as he peaked out and flicked your clit, sending a jolting sensation up your core. Jacaerys didn't stop there — he was far from finished with you. He laid his tongue flat and licked a fat strip up your entrance to your clit, stirring a gasp from your lips. 
Your reaction made him smile, encouraging him to pursue. He took a second lick of your cunt, then captured your clit between his lips to suckle at. You let out a mewl of pleasure, your hand traveling down your body to clutch at Jacaerys's soft hair. He alternated between sucking and licking at you, the room filling with obscene noises as your legs tightened on each side of his face, caging him. 
Releasing your clit, Jacaerys slid his tongue between your folds, tasting your arousal on his tongue. You've had his fingers inside you, but never his tongue. Arching your back, you pushed against his face, asking for more. And Jacaerys was happy to give it to you, adding a finger to the mix and pushing deeper inside you.
With your free hand, you clutched the sheets, biting your lips and holding back the moans that wanted to slip out. Had Lucerys’s bedchamber not been so close to yours, you would not have held them back. But y0u didn’t wish to scar his young ears. The poor boy would not be able to look you in the eyes again. 
Jacaerys withdrew his tongue and added a second finger, moving the former back to your clit and making a slobbering mess all over you. 
The rush of pleasure filling your body intensified and you rolled your hips into his face with abandon as your orgasm snapped. Your husband’s name left your lips in a delicate whimper, throwing your head back as he lapped at you, taking everything you were giving him. 
Easing your hands off his hair, you slowed your hips down. 
Jacaerys took the cue and left your pussy alone. 
‘’Where did you learn that?’’ you asked, looking down between your legs as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 
He rose to his feet and fell back on the bed with you. ‘’The North.’’ 
Your heart sank, and a knot formed in your stomach. Thoughts raced through your mind, thinking he had bedded another woman. You would have never thought that he would commit infidelity.
Seeing the concern etched across your face, Jacaerys reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. ‘’No,’’ he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding. ‘’Not…’’ He shook his head. ‘’Never.’’ 
His words washed over you like a wave of relief.
‘’Northmen, when they get drunk, they talk a lot. About their hunts, about their horses, about the things they do to their women in bed. I didn’t know women could be kissed there, but I wanted to try it. Did you…did you enjoy it?’’ 
A smile curled on your lips as you looked at him. His physique may have changed while he was in the North, but inside, he was the same nervous boy you wed in the spring. 
You nodded slowly. ‘’Can you do it again?’’
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versairic · 9 months ago
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Paddock guests | MV1
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In which you and your class visited Max at the track in Zandvoort.
warning : This is the second part of 'special guest' and you don't have to read the first part first, but it might make it easier for you because of the connections in this part. You can also find 'special guest' on my profile :)
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ALL EYES are on you and your class as you enter the paddock in a row of ducks.
Until now, it has never happened that countless six-year-olds in Red Bull merchandise and paddock passes around their necks have entered the paddock together with their teacher.
But that changes today. Having plucked up the courage a few days ago to save Max's number and thank the Dutchman for a great day in the lion class, you didn't expect the three-time world champion to invite the whole class into the paddock as a thank you.
"It's important that we all stay together. As you can see, the paddock is quite large and spacious, so we all have to stay very close together to get to the Red Bull Garage, okay? ", you look at your pupils one by one with a smile.
You can clearly see the beaming faces of your protégés and the anticipation of the day ahead.
Today is Friday, so there won't be too much happening at the track this weekend, so this is the perfect day for Max to show the six-year-olds where he works.
In a video message sent directly to the Lion class, he thanked them for the great day at school and invited all the students to his garage to take a look behind the scenes.
You're also looking forward to seeing everything up close, so you can hardly wait to walk over to Red Bull and marvel at everything up close.
"Then let's get going," you indicate to your charges with a smile.
As it is impossible to keep an eye on all the children alone in this spacious paddock, you are accompanied by a nice Red Bull employee who introduced himself as Mason a few minutes ago.
You're grateful to Mason not only for helping you keep the kids together, but also for guiding you through the paddock and getting you to your destination.
Because if you're honest, you wouldn't find this way on your own. The paddock already looks pretty big and expansive from the TV, but in real life it looks twice as big, so if you didn't have a clue, you'd be one hundred per cent lost.
Mason starts to run off in front, while the rows of two that the children have formed follow the Red Bull employee and you bring up the rear so as not to lose any children in the hustle and bustle.
Every now and then, a few employees or even drivers cross your path, who give you a big smile and greet and wave to your protégés in a friendly manner.
It doesn't take long before Mason comes to a halt in front of the Red Bull Hospitality and all the children gather in a semi-circle around Mason.
"We've reached our first destination. This is the Red Bull Hospitality. This is where we stay from time to time when Formula 1 is on a break..." While Mason begins to explain a little to the children, you start to take a few photos with your mobile phone to capture today's event not only for you, but also for the children.
"Max has another appointment, so it will be a while before he can show you all round. But I see you've all got rucksacks with you, which must contain your breakfast, right? " the Red Bull employee adds as you walk up the small ramp to the hospitality centre and shortly afterwards the sliding doors open to reveal a large room with countless tables and chairs.
A loud chorus of 'yes' answers Mason, who indicates to the children that they should find a place to have a snack to tide them over while Max has something to do.
You smile gratefully at Mason when the dark-haired man presses a coffee into your hand a few seconds later.
"The little ones are really adorable, " Mason enthuses as he sits down at a table opposite you.
Your students are sitting around you, talking excitedly and eating their breakfast.
" Yes, isn't it? " you smile and wrap your hands around the cup before taking a sip of the hot liquid. " It's really great of Max to make this possible for you. "
"Max is a really warm person, " Mason smiles and shortly afterwards starts to engage you in conversation, which you're really grateful for.
Because it's not just your class that's pretty excited and nervous about what's going to happen in the next few lessons. You are also really nervous and excited, but you try your best not to let it show.
"I hope the garage has room for you all," Mason turns to you and your class with a grin as he continues walking backwards.
You all sat in the hospitality centre for about an hour, where you ate breakfast in the back and then the children were allowed to ask Mason a few questions about the team and his duties.
Mason is part of the mechanic crew who look after the car before and after the sessions.
The children have listened attentively to his stories during the last lesson.
But now, the closer you get to the actual destination, you clearly realise how excited your charges actually are.
A smile plays around your lips as Mason starts to walk down the dark blue corridor towards the garage and begins to tell the children that Max and Sergio Perez always walk along this path to get to their cars.
A few seconds later, you finally reached your actual destination. The garage.
The six-year-olds fill the garage with amazement as they see the two blue cars for the first time.
A broad grin appears on your lips as you realise where you actually are. So far you've only ever seen this view from the sofa on your television and now you're actually standing here.
Apart from a few mechanics who have gathered at the front wing and seem to be making a few preparations, the garage is empty.
"As you can see, Max's car is on the left and Checo's car is on the right. Can anyone tell me what makes the two cars different? " Mason looks round with a smile, from which countless index fingers shoot up.
" Max' is faster! " Milan shouts formally after Mason takes his turn. Loud children's laughter from the class fills the garage.
"Milan..." you almost admonish the blond-haired man. Not because it's true, but because it makes you a little uncomfortable that Milan is more or less rubbing salt in the wound, because everyone knows that things aren't going as well for 'Checo' as they are for Max at the moment.
The Red Bull employee begins to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment and seems to be struggling with the words. However, he can't seem to think of a suitable answer, so he looks relieved when Max suddenly appears.
The children happily start shouting the Dutchman's name, who gives each child a high five and then gives you a friendly smile, which you return.
" I'm glad you all came! " Max begins as he stands in front of the children and Mason disappears from the centre of attention and goes back to work. "As you probably already know, you're now in the place where I spend a lot of time. How about we take a closer look at my car? "
With a wave of his hand, Max gestures for everyone to come a little closer so that he can show the children his car in more detail and answer a few questions.
Excited, everyone moves a little closer to the car.
"Make sure you don't get too close to the car, will you? You remember what I told you this morning, don't you? " you ask the group.
"Don't touch other people's things!" your class shouts back in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips and Max looks over at you.
His lips form a wordless 'thank you' before he crouches down to be a little more at eye level with the children and shortly afterwards he begins to explain everything about the car and answer questions.
" Thank you very much for your efforts, " you thank Max as the Dutchman comes over to you.
A few minutes ago, you stood a little apart in the box so that you weren't in the way but also didn't lose sight of your class.
"Always a pleasure," Max smiles as he leans against the wall next to you and you look over at your class and Checo.
During Max's detailed explanations of his car, Checo joins in later and now the Mexican takes over to explain the steering wheel to the children in detail.
Sergio sits on a folding chair with the steering wheel in his hand, while the class sits in a semicircle around him on the floor and listens attentively to his words.
" It's really not a matter of course that you invited us all here. That really wouldn't have been necessary," you begin. You are really grateful for what Max does for you and especially for your class.
"It's nice to see the little lions again. And so I also have a reason to see your great teacher again. " Max winks slightly at you, causing the warmth to start shooting up your cheek.
Embarrassed, you brush a strand of hair out of your face and then slowly raise your eyes to look at the Dutchman.
Max's blue eyes are fixed on your face as his lips curve into a smile.
" I mean that seriously, " he adds.
" U-uh... thank you?" you stammer, almost caught off guard. Max's words were so surprising that you didn't even come close to having a perfect answer.
But that 'Uhm, thank you' didn't even make it any better in your mind.
The Dutchman, however, seemed to take this quite calmly, as a grin appeared on his lips.
"I didn't think I would succeed in making you so embarrassed. " Max takes a step closer to you so that you can clearly smell his aftershave.
Without meaning to, warmth begins to gather in your body, causing a warm feeling to spread through your whole body.
"But you succeeded. " Your voice almost sounds like a whisper, so you're not sure whether Max has understood your words at all, as children's laughter can be heard in the background.
" Max! Come here, you have to take over again," Checo calls out just as the Dutchman opens his mouth and starts talking.
"We'll talk later, " Max says in your direction, before he runs over to Checo and, together with Checo, begins to explain the racing gear to the children and, shortly afterwards, one or two of the children put on Max's and Checo's helmets.
And while Max sinks back into his element and makes sure that the children have an unforgettable day, your thoughts are permanently with Max and his words, which you won't be able to get out of your head any time soon.
Countless new impressions and information and a completed first free practice session, which you and your class followed live, the day of your visit to the paddock at Zandvoort slowly comes to an end.
A satisfied but also exhausted smile is on your lips as you watch Max hug each child goodbye and have a few kind words for each of them.
You’ve been impressed all day today by how well the Dutchman has dealt with the children and how much time he has really taken for each of them, even though he has a tight schedule and is certainly quite exhausted.
It's sweet to see how some children wrap their arms tightly around the Dutchman and don't want to let him go.
Even for these children, he takes extra time to talk to them quietly and whisper a few words that you don't understand.
And then the Dutchman is suddenly standing in front of you, while all the children are already waiting with Mason at the exit of the paddock.
"Thanks again, Max. Not just for today but also for the visit to the class. That really meant a lot to us, especially the children," you thank the Dutchman again.
"I was happy to do that," he replies with a smile and pulls you into his strong arms to say goodbye, which takes you rather by surprise.
It takes you a few seconds to break out of your little stupor and carefully wrap your arms around his middle.
"I hope we meet again. You've got my number," he whispers in your ear as he hugs you a little closer.
"We will," you assure him.
A tingling sensation begins to awaken in your body and your whole body is slightly electrified.
But before you can really savour the feeling, the Dutchman has already pulled out of the embrace.
"Then I hope you won't say no to that. "
Confused, you look at Max, who pulls something out of the back pocket of his trousers and shortly afterwards presses another Paddock Pass into your hand.
You frown in confusion. The Paddock Pass in Max's hand looks exactly like the one you already have around your neck. What is he trying to say?
Max must clearly see your confusion, because the Dutchman begins to grin slightly before he starts to speak.
" I'd like to see you in the paddock for the next two days so that we can spend some more time together. But only if you want to, of course. "
He starts to scratch the back of his neck nervously while he waits for your answer.
" I'd love to! " you say quickly as you take off your paddock pass and hang it around your neck.
And if someone had told you back then that it was the beginning of a relationship, you certainly wouldn't have believed a word they said.
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promenadewithme · 2 months ago
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Twelve days of Christmas - Chapter 1
paring: bucky barnes x fem! reader word count: 733 words warnings: marriage, children, slight angst, christmas. let me know if there is anything else :)
part 1 part 2 part 3
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He was late. Again. Bucky had promised he would make an effort, as he did every time, but Stark always had him busy with one thing or another. You guessed men were all the same. Once they had the girl, they stopped trying. You never expected that from your husband, though. Closed off as he might seem, James had a good heart, one that did all he could for your family. All except actually show up recently.
Unlocking your phone for the millionth time, you were greeted by your string of unseen messages sent over the past two hours.
Liv and I are already at the school.
I saved you a seat, third row to the left.
James, are you coming?
It’s about to start soon, are you still at work?
I can’t believe you’re doing this again.
James?
At any moment, your daughter would be going up on stage, adorably dressed as a sugar plum fairy for her school’s Christmas performance. And he wasn’t there. You could clearly picture Olivia’s face as she stepped into the spotlight, searching for her dad in the crowd, only to find his absence. The purse that sat where he was supposed to be served as a reminder of every seat you saved him that her never occupied. Every time it got harder. Both to place the bag as you sat and to remove it when he didn’t show.
“Where the hell are you, James?” you muttered under your breath.
During your relationship and beginning of your marriage, your husband was the most caring and present man that ever existed. Then Liv was born, and rent was due. Money made the world spin and the lack of it made your husband seek more work. You knew he was overworked. You knew he did it for your family. The thing is, you had already gotten a raise and so did he, a significant one at that. You were comfortable, there was enough money saved for months if not more than a year. That did not make James slow down.
You knew he did not care about the money. He wasn’t the kind of guy to delight in the luxuries this world had to offer. Practical to a fault, he would even wear the same ragged clothes until you secretly replaced them. So why did he do it? Work until 3am, miss birthdays and special occasions, pull away from your family. From you.
It made you wonder if all those late nights were truly spent working. Maybe he was slowly forgetting your family because he found himself in someone else. Maybe your worst fear, that you would never be enough no matter how hard you tried, was the harsh reality. Maybe he was better off without you.
“Hey, is this seat taken?” one of the mothers you usually saw during drop-off asked, steering you from your thoughts.
Was it? You gazed at the auditorium doors one last time, hoping to see your husband’s face as he searched for you. But there was no one. People were already settled down and the lights started to dim. He wasn’t coming. A fact you already knew but had not found in yourself to believe.
“All yours.” You replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
As the woman sat down, something settled in your chest. Something you already knew you had to do, that you lacked the courage to. For your daughter, but mostly for yourself. You were tired of being the only one showing up, the only one fighting for a relationship that felt one-sided.
No. No more. You would rather be single again and truly be alone than to feel so lonely with someone by your side. So much for better or worse. He couldn’t even stay home for long enough to know if times were good or bad, to know you were falling apart.
Tears welled up in your eyes as the play began and you were grateful for the dark. Falling into its embrace, you wished one last time that your husband would show up. You wished he would realize that he was losing you. With all your heart, you wished he would do something, say something. Change. As much as you loved James, you wished he would change. By the time the lights turned on again, you realized that not all Christmas wishes come true.
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coldilikeit · 1 month ago
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Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)
Female reader
Chapter 7- the true princess of Wayne Manor
Short chapter*
_____________________________
"(Name)... I noticed something from you" Dick says "When you try something new, you stop pursuing it if you're not immediately good at it"
A reincarnated and two vigilantes go rock climbing, sounds like the start of an awful joke huh?
After the continued event of you encountering the villains and school shooters, they decided to teach you some stuff, Karate, Muay Thai, Taekwondo, jujitsu, painting, swimming, Camping, Ziplining, trying the scary roller coaster rides-
Huh?
This is slowly starting to feel like family outings
You jump further up "What do you mean?", He looks up at you "I mean... When we went swimming and Damian dived you wanted to try it out too, but when you realized you couldn't do it you just stopped, but when we tried archery and you could do it, you wanted to stay there longer"
"I just don't want to keep on trying on a lost cause, I hate feeling helpless and disappointed" you say, as you three reached the top, you rest for a bit and Jason hands you a bottle of water "what kind of helpless?" He asked
"When mom was sick, we had one problem, and it was money, I thought to myself that it'll be okay since I know how to make money, just give me a couple of months and we'll have what we need, turns out we didn't have a couple of months, I worked really hard and I was just disappointed that I couldn't save her, there I promised myself I wouldn't try on a lost cause" you drank the whole bottle and even burped after"Excuse me"
"I mean" you stated "Why didn't you think I never even tried to get along with you guys, first meeting Damian calls me an 'it', who'd expect family after that" you laugh
Nevermind the fact that you know you're in a world where they're not supposed to love you
After losing your family the first time, and your mom the second time, knowing you'll have no one after that was depressing, you wanted to at least defy the system, you told yourself that if you tried to get along with them, maybe they'll accept you
The system quickly shut that thought down by telling you that "In any of the fics you've read, were any of the readers successful?"
Basically telling you that if in the fiction you've read no main character succeeded, you trying to gain their love would do nothing, you'd just set yourself up for failure
Reader... I'm sorry but you are on the verge of failing, at this rate, you won't get the special reward...
You look up at the screen in curiosity, their hatred meter was on 2%, but the past few days that the new vigilante Protagonist has been fighting with the bat family, it went up again to 15%, and whenever they spend time with you it goes down again, when they spend time with protagonist it goes up again, you honestly have no idea what's going on
Bruce's hatred meter is already in the negatives, if all of them go to the negatives you've failed
Dick hugs you "Let's go shopping" he smiles
____________________________
And you find yourself at the mall, you find some books you think you'll like and Jason pays for you, you find some clothes you think you'll like and Dick pays for you
They both drag you to a dress store, and to be honest you feel like you're forgetting something really important
You open your phone to find no messages, not from your friends or anyone
They settle you with a black dress you like, of course they'd pick something in their color, and you ride the taxi home
The Manor is eerie and quiet, Alfred isn't there to greet your return and frankly you're worried, he's always there to greet us, did something happen?
The Joker attacked? But you didn't see any bat patrolling? And why would Dick and Jason be with you?
You open the doors of the manor and-
"Happy birthday (Name)!" They yell, there you see Alfred, your friends, children from the orphanage you visit, the children you tutor, and some paparazzi, some rich looking people you don't know, and holy fuck- is that the justice league in civilian form!?!? oh and also your family is here
Right.
It's your 16th birthday...
And this... Is your first official Wayne Gala
You totally forgot.
You rarely celebrate your birthday... Because sometimes, the system tells you to celebrate it alone, sometimes it doesn't, you only remember your birthday when the system makes a mission surrounding it
Shit.
You can't get out of this one
Bruce smiles at you and he takes your hand the music starts
Another shit.
Is this a father-daughter dance?
It is.
Everyone is eager to see it, the paparazzi has cameras pointed at the both of you, your friends are smiling enjoying the party, and the kids are laughing
"(Name) Looks like a princess!" A kid says
You laugh uncomfortably "I don't know how to dance" you whisper to your father (that's a lie, you're amazing), he then places your feet to step on his "that's fine" he says
Then you he dances, his feet guide yours and it becomes this adorable moment where dad doesn't mind that his daughter doesn't know how to dance and is just happy that your in his arms
You are screaming on the inside.
How could you forget about something like this!?!?
You see his hatred meter drop even more, then you see the others, from 15% it goes to 10% then 5% then-
The dance finishes, the crowd claps and cheers, the dance showing you and your father's closeness...
Then a girl speaks "Excuse me?" She says, Everyone's attention is on her and she smiles, she runs to your father "I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She holds his hands pushing you away
Bruce pulls away from her "What are you doing!?" He glared
She looked flustered but smiled either way, she pulled out some documents and gave it to Bruce
"I thought it would be the right moment to tell you since everyone is here... I'm your long lost daughter Viviana!"
_____________________________
EHEHEHEHEHHEHE MANHWA READERS YALL PROLLY KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING
____________________________
@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator
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desi2go · 4 months ago
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First times
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pairing: Channie x reader
warning: fluff
summary: How were your first times with him?
author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHANNIE!!!!! I love you so much and I hope you have a great day <3<3<3<3<3
𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤
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You never thought that you would meet the love of your life on the beach. You and your friends were on vacation in Australia, enjoying the beautiful beach in the warmth of the sun. There were so many people, laying next to each other due to the limited space but it still was relaxing.
You were just reading a book while sunbathing and trying to get a good tan, your friends swam in the warm water, leaving you alone on your towel. Suddenly, a ball hit you, bouncing over you onto your friend's towel. You looked around for the culprit, expecting it to be a child but instead, three men stood a few metres away. They pushed each other forward and when they caught your staring, they pointed at each other, claiming that it was the other ones fault.
You rolled amused with your eyes, not believing that grown up men could act like children. Two of them, one with long blonde and the one with short black hair, pushed their friend forward with force, letting him stumble.
The message was clear, he should get the ball back from you. You fished it from your friend's towel and waited for him to step up to you.
He was beautiful, his black hair hidden by a black base cap but his face was gorgeous. Those brown eyes looked like delicious chocolate and the smile that formed on his face made you blush.
You held the ball out while he stood in front of you, rubbing his back.
"Thank you" he exclaimed, taking the ball and already turning.
"You're welcome" you responded. But the good looking man stopped in his tracks when he saw his friends making signals with their hands. You figured out that the blonde was signing phone and the other acted like he wrote something, pointing to you.
The man with the base cap sighned. "I hate you guys sometimes" he mumbled, heading towards you again while blushing and hiding his face under the cap.
"Already back?" you asked amused, watching him with a smirk. "Yes. Can I have your number perhaps?" he questioned, becoming a blushing mess.
You chuckled. "Did your friends tell you that?"
He laughed. "No, they just encouraged me. I'm Chan by the way"
𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊
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You texted on a daily basis, getting to know him very well and you found out that he was an idol. Since you were from south korea too, you didn't think that this would be an obstacle for your relationship. Before he would go back to korea, he wanted to show you Sydney on a personal trip.
The whole day, he showed you around, poiting to the hidden spots and attractions that a normal tourist wouldn't see. It was fun to spend time with him, easy and without uncomfortable silences.
He was a true gentlemen, opening doors for you and even paying your ice cream. You laughed a lot and you must admit that you already adored his. His gentle gaze would always be on you, letting you feel safe and secure in his proximity.
When the sun was replaced by the moon and stars, he lead you to a small restaurant. You sat down in front of it, the soft light of fairylights luminated his face, emphazising all his beautiful features.
Chan told you that this was his favourite restaurant and he couldn't even deny it anymore when the waiter greeted him with his name, making you laugh. He recommended you some things and after getting your order, he even let you try his meal. You couldn't even remember if a man before him had fed you once, but he did, blowing on his fork to cool it down and then placing it in your mouth carefully.
His ears were red but the smile on his face was hypnoticing. You could watch this man for your entire life.
𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉
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As soon as you were back in south korea, he took you out on more dates and you were sure that he was the person you wanted to spend your life with.
It was just that you feared for asking him if he wanted to be your boyfriend. You were just insecure how to approach this, afraid that it might be too soon for his liking but all your doubt were destroyed when he asked you instead.
It was on one of your dates. He had picked you up at your apartment and brought you to the park a little outside from Seoul where you could be alone. You both had planned to do a picknick to enjoy one of the last summer days before the cold winter would come.
You spread the blanket and placed the food down, talking about everything. While you laid down, he fed you some strawberries that were dipped into chocolate, reminding you of his eye colour.
You had noticed from the beginning that he acted different than usual, he seemed nervous. But you trusted him to tell you what was on his mind.
His hand caressed your cheek and you closed your eyes, eating the strawberries from time to time. He cleared his throat, not responding to a question you had asked.
"Okay Channie, tell me what is up with you today. You seem nervous" you expressed, opening your eyes to take his form in.
"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" He spoke fastly, leaving you speachless. You definitely didn't expected that.
You chuckled. "That bothered you so much?" He nodded hesitantly, clearly panicking that you would say no.
"Of course Channie, I love you" you pushed yourself up from his lap, pressing your lips on his own.
𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗
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Saying that you weren't nervous at all was wrong, completely wrong. You knew that it was just Channie, your Channie, and you didn't need to be so tense but this felt like a big step in your relationship.
You were officially together now and even if it sounded unbelievable, you hadn't spend a night together yet. You didn't mind since both of you wanted to take things slow.
Now, you stood in front of his apartment with a bag in hand, pressing his doorbell. He opened immeadiatly as if he had waited impatiently for you on the other side. He pressed a loving kiss on your lips and taking the bag from you in the same moment.
"Hello love" he greeted, pulling you out of the cold hallway. It wasn't the first time being in his apartment and you liked his way of decorating from the first moment.
"Hey Channie" you responded, getting rid of your shoes and jacket while he placed the bag into his bedroom. "I just started cooking" he told you, leading you into the kitchen where the food was already cooking.
You laughed a lot while you observed your boyfriend since he forced you to sit down instead of letting you help.
After dinner, you two layed down on his couch to watch a movie, your head an his shoulder while he played with a strand of your hair. You felt him pressing his nose into your hair and you laughed when you heard him inhale deeply. "What? I love your smell" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around you.
Afterwards, you headed to bed after getting ready together. He didn't even give you the chance to bring some sort of distance between you or letting you even lay down for a second before he was already pulling you into his arms again, leaving you squealing and giggling.
"Come here! I need my cuddles!" he demanded, giving you a light bite on your shoulder. "As if you weren't cuddling me all the time" you stated, brushing a few hair strands out of his face.
"They are never enough, never"
𝖜𝖊𝖉𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌
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Chan's proposal was something you hadn't expected. Well, yes at some point in the future yes but you were surprised when the love of your life suddenly kneeled in front of you, a beautiful and well-chosen ring in his hand. Of course you said yes! I mean how could you not?
The preparation of the wedding let the time pass so fast. You chose the perfect venue in Australia on the beach you had met years ago and your wedding dress was breathtaking and you couldn't wait to see Chan's reaction.
When you walked down the aisle, you were so nervous but yet so excited. With a beautiful bouquet in hand, you headed to your future, to your beloved husband. He looked absolutely gorgeous in his black suit and as soon as his eyes found yours, a stunning smile decorated his face.
Your farther gave you into Chan's arms and got back to his seat. During the whole ceremony, your lover's eyes never left yours and his fingers caressed your hands. Soon, you both said yes and exchanged your rings that you had chosen. Your wedding band was silver with a white stone and on the inside, hidden from the outside, were your initials engraved.
Chan gently pressed his lips on yours, your hands finding its way in his hair.
𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉
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You and Chan were married for over a year now and you knew that he wanted kids and you must admit that you imagined being a mother too. And after settling into marriage you felt that it was the right time to try for a baby.
Chan was excited and couldn't wait until you were pregnant. Just some months later, you found out that you were indeed with child and on the first doctor's appointment, Chan cried as soon as he saw the cell that is your baby.
During the whole pregnancy, he was so nervous and affectionate. Whenever he found time, he would caress your bump or lay on your stomach to tell you and your baby about his day.
As your bump grew, he was cautious about everything. You couldn't even do laundry without him jumping up and taking over, claiming that you needed to rest.
When you went into labour, he stayed by your side during the whole process. His hand never left yours and he drove to the hospital, even when you tightened your hold with each contraction.
After hours of labour, you heard your baby's first cries and it felt like all the pain faded away. The only thing you could concentrate on, was to hold your baby. Chan kissed your forehead in joy, complimenting you how great you did this. In his own eyes were tears as they laid the beautiful baby girl in your arms.
Tenderly, he caressed his finger over the smooth skin and oh lord - he was smitten. He felt nervous when you suggested to hold his girl but he agreed and listened to the instructions the nurse gave him. He undressed his chest because newborns liked the skin to skin contact to hold their temperature and to control their breathing.
He laughed in joy as he held his little one finally after months of waiting, the smile never left his lips again.
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rasha-ahmed2002 · 1 month ago
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On the morning of October 7th
Gaza woke up to the sound of bombings and explosions, as if the sky had opened to rain fire that would never stop. In a small neighborhood filled with simple dreams, lived Ahmed, a hardworking man trying to provide for his family, his loving and patient wife Rasha, their one-year-old daughter Mariam, and their newborn baby Suleiman, just a month old. 🏠💔
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As the bombings intensified and houses collapsed around them, Ahmed realized their home, the place where they built their memories, was no longer safe. In a moment of panic, he grabbed his two children—Mariam, who clung to him crying, and baby Suleiman, too small to understand the chaos. Rasha, her hands trembling, tried to pack whatever she could—diapers, a milk bottle, and some warm clothes. Everything happened so fast, as if they were racing against death itself. 🏃‍♂️👩‍🍼
They fled south, where they were told there might be temporary safety. But the journey was a nightmare. Ahmed walked with a heavy heart, every step feeling like a piece of his soul was being torn away. 💔 Mariam sobbed in fear and hunger, while Suleiman whimpered weakly in his arms. Rasha followed closely, carrying a small bag, her eyes filled with tears, terrified of losing everything.
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After hours of walking, they arrived at what was described as a "safe place." It was nothing more than an open field crowded with families who had also lost their homes. They found shelter under a tree 🌳, feeling like their world had collapsed. With only a thin blanket to protect them from the cold, Mariam fell asleep in her mother's arms, while Suleiman cried out of hunger—there was no more milk left. 🍼❌
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Ahmed sat at a distance, staring at his family with helplessness. He remembered his small shop, the place where he worked every day, and how Mariam used to run to greet him with a smile when he came home. Now, he had nothing left—no home, no job, not even hope. 😔
Rasha, despite her pain, tried to stay strong. But every night, she cried silently as she looked at her two children, wondering how she would feed them or keep them safe. The days dragged on, each one heavier than the last, bringing more despair with it.
One day, Ahmed received news that the shop where he worked had been completely destroyed. It felt like another knife had pierced his heart. He didn’t know how he could start over again or rebuild his life in a world shattered by war. 🏚️💔
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As time passed, all they had left were memories. Memories of their small home that once held them together, Mariam’s first laughter, and the sweet scent of newborn Suleiman. These memories became their only treasure as they faced an uncertain future.💔💔
The war had stolen everything from them, but it couldn’t steal their love for one another. ❤️ Every night, Ahmed would tell Rasha, “We will rebuild everything one day. Not just for us, but for Mariam and Suleiman. They are our only hope.”
But even that hope seemed like a distant mirage, a glimmer of light in a desert of pain. ✨
Amidst this suffering, we need your support, whether through donations or by sharing this message to reach as many people as possible who can help.
Every contribution, no matter how small, helps make this hope a tangible reality.
Even with just a 5€ contribution, you can help build hope for a family in desperate need.
Let’s work together to ease the pain and light the way for those who need it. Share, donate, and be part of this change.
Please help my family🙏🏻🥺🥺
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wolverigrl · 5 months ago
Text
The talk
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Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)
Previous Part
A/N: Enjoy this part 3! I hope you like it! In this story, Blake and Ryan have been married since 2010 and therefore had their children earlier. I changed the age of the children to make it fit.
Warnings: maybe some swearing here and there, a bit angsty and fluff, mentions of alcohol
---------------------------------------------------
I couldn’t sleep last night. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, staring at the digital clock that blinked back at me relentlessly. When 6 a.m. finally rolled around, I gave up, threw back the covers, and dragged myself out of bed. I needed something to ground me, to keep my mind from spiraling, so I rolled out my yoga mat in front of the massive window that looked out over the New York skyline. The city was still half-asleep, but I could already feel its energy buzzing in the distance.
After a quick, but calming, yoga session, I snapped a selfie. I sat on the mat in my sports bra and leggings, my hair a messy bun, and the sunrise just starting to peek through the buildings behind me. My face looked peaceful, but inside, my stomach was a knot of nerves. Still, I posted it on Instagram, hoping the positivity from my followers might lift me a bit.
Within minutes, comments flooded in. Mostly love and support, people saying how they wished they could be as dedicated to early morning yoga as I was. But some of them worried about me. There were a few messages asking if I was okay, mentioning the paparazzi photos of yesterday. Apparently, walking through the city with Blake after the premiere turned into a full-on hangover spectacle, and people noticed. They always notice everything.
I sighed and decided to call Blake.
“Heyyy!” she greeted cheerfully, her voice always so full of life.
“Hey, Blake!"I replied, trying to sound less anxious than I felt.
I hesitated. I didn’t really want to unload on her again.
“I, uh, I’ve got Hugh coming over soon. I… I don’t know, I’m kinda nervous about it. We need to talk, and I just—I don’t know how it’s going to go.”
I heard in her voice that she was smiling. “Listen, you and Hugh will be fine. He’s a great guy. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t be flirting with you so much in public. Trust me, I’ve known him for years—he doesn’t do that unless he means it.”
I bit my lip, feeling my anxiety twist and turn. “But what if… ahh.. nevermind. I’m just so confused.”
“That’s okay. As I already told you, you don’t have to figure it all out in one day. Just talk to him, be honest, and see where it goes. You’ve got this.”
Her words helped, if only a little. I thanked her, and after hanging up, I busied myself around the apartment, waiting for the knock on the door.
When it finally came, I almost jumped out of my skin. I opened the door to find Hugh standing there with a bag of bagels in one hand and two coffees in the other.
“Good morning. I brought us breakfast." he said with that charming smile of his.
We exchanged small talk as we sat down at the kitchen counter, nibbling on our food. He complimented the view, asked about my morning, and I tried to stay calm, but the tension between us was impossible to ignore. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dancing around the subject, I took a deep breath and started the conversation I’d been dreading.
“Hugh,” I began softly, setting my half-eaten bagel down. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling. About us, I mean.”
He nodded slowly, looking at me with that warm, steady gaze that always seemed to calm me, even when I was a mess inside.
“I like you, y/n. A lot. And I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. But I’d like to figure it out together if that’s something you want to.”
My chest tightened. “But the age thing… your kids… Hugh, it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’m ready for something so complicated.”
Hugh leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ve already talked to my son about it, actually. Oscar asked me about you, and I told him the truth—that I’m happy when I’m with you. And he said that as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters to him. Ava feels the same way, I’m sure.”
I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. The relief I felt, knowing that he’d already had that conversation with his son, was overwhelming. But at the same time, the weight of everything else crashed over me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wiping at my eyes as the tears fell.
Hugh got up and pulled me up from the chair so that I stood in front of him. His arms wrapped me in a soft hug, and his fingers tilted my chin up slightly so he could kiss the tip of my nose. It was a soft, sweet gesture that made my heart skip.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time. We don’t need to rush anything.”
I nodded, sniffling a bit. “Slow sounds good. Maybe we could… you know, go on real dates? But keep things quiet for now.”
He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, Blake and Ryan can know, but no one else. At least for now.”
We finished breakfast and cleaned up, and soon we found ourselves on the couch. Hugh wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. For a while, we just sat there, the silence comforting, our worries temporarily pushed to the side.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Did you… did you mean it? That kiss in the gym?”
Hugh chuckled, glancing down at me with that familiar playful spark in his eyes. “Was that not obvious?”
I felt my face heat up, a slow blush spreading across my cheeks. I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me. “I had other things on my mind.”
He laughed softly, the sound warm and infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the butterflies in my stomach. There was something so disarming about him, the way he could make me feel at ease even when my heart was racing. His gaze held mine, the tension between us thickening, and suddenly, I couldn’t resist any longer.
Without thinking, I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, everything else faded away. His lips were soft and warm, moving gently against mine, and the kiss quickly deepened, growing more intense with each passing second.
My heart pounded in my chest, the heat between us rising as my hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. Hugh’s arms circled my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically sitting on his lap. His hands were firm yet tender, one resting on the small of my back, the other moving up to cradle the side of my face as the kiss continued to build in intensity.
I felt my breath hitch as his lips trailed from mine to the corner of my mouth, then along my jawline, his stubble grazing my skin in the most delicious way. My pulse quickened as I let out a soft sigh, my fingers tangling in his short, soft hair. The sensation of his lips on my neck sent shivers down my spine, my entire body humming with anticipation.
Hugh's hand slid down to my back, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, and it sent my mind spinning. His touch was gentle but sure, his fingers tracing small circles on my lower back, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
His mouth returned to mine, the kiss now slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. His tongue teased my lips, and I opened up to him, the kiss deepening as our breaths mingled, the air between us growing hotter. Every nerve in my body was on fire, the warmth of his touch, the weight of his hands, the way he held me, as if I were something precious. I felt safe and reckless all at once, the thrill of being so close to him coursing through me like electricity.
Hugh’s grip tightened on my waist, his hands sliding down to my hips, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, a heady mix of desire and disbelief that this was actually happening. His lips parted from mine just long enough for me to catch a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering open to meet his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with the same want that was swirling inside me.
I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned back in, kissing him with more urgency this time, my hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my fingertips. His body was firm under my touch, and the sensation sent another rush of heat through me. I pressed closer to him, my lips hungry for more, and he responded in kind, his hands roaming over my back.
My pulse raced, and I felt the world narrowing down to just the two of us—the heat of our bodies, the taste of his lips, the way his hands moved over me, every touch igniting something deeper, something I couldn’t control.
Then, out of nowhere, his phone buzzed.
We both froze, breathless, still tangled together. I pulled back just slightly, still feeling the heat of his breath on my lips. "You should get that," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my ears.
Hugh let out a low groan of frustration but reluctantly reached for his phone. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s Ryan.”
I smirked, trying to catch my breath. Of course, it was Ryan.
Hugh answered, still holding me close as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Hey, mate.” he greeted casually, though I could hear the slight edge of impatience in his voice.
Ryan’s voice was loud enough that I could hear him through the phone. “So, dinner at our place today? You and y/n should come by.”
Hugh blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “How do you know y/n's with me?”
Ryan’s laugh was almost smug. “Call it a hunch.”
Hugh shook his head, glancing at me with a playful smile. “You in?”
I nodded, still a bit breathless, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “Sure.”
He confirmed with Ryan and then hung up, looking back at me with a soft smile. “Let’s go for a walk before dinner.”
I grinned. The idea of sneaking through the streets with him was somehow exciting. But then reality hit. “You should probably… go get changed." I suggested, glancing down at the clothes he was wearing. "Something more undercover."
Hugh nodded, gently setting me next to him and standing up. "I'll swing by my place and change. Give me a few minutes, and I'll come back for you."
He pressed one more quick kiss to my forehead before heading out the door, leaving me sitting there, my heart still racing from the kiss. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to calm the fire that was still burning inside me. It was impossible to believe that just a few moments ago, I had been straddling Hugh Jackman in my living room, kissing him like my life depended on it.
True to his word, Hugh returned not long after, dressed down in a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a hoodie, looking like a celebrity who's trying to avoid attention. I slipped on a casual jacket and sunglasses, and we headed out, blending into the afternoon crowds as we walked through the streets of New York.
As we wandered, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about work—how his latest project was going, how I was handling mine. We shared stories and joked about the craziness of the industry, but somewhere along the way, the conversation grew more personal. Hugh asked me about my childhood, about the things that made me who I was, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I hadn’t expected.
He told me stories about his kids, about how Oscar was so curious about everything, how Ava was growing into her own person, full of ideas and opinions. Hearing him talk about them made me see another side of him—so caring, so deeply connected to his family. It only made me like him more.
We asked each other questions that weren’t surface level, diving into the things that really mattered, like what we wanted in life, what we were afraid of. The more we talked, the more I realized again how easy it was to be with him, how natural it felt.
Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. We made our way back to my apartment, where Hugh dropped me off so I could get ready for dinner at Blake and Ryan’s. He gave me one short peck before heading back to his place to change.
As I stood in front of my mirror, touching up my makeup and fixing my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, about how right it had felt. Today had been full of surprises, but for the first time, I wasn’t scared of where this might lead. Hugh and I were taking it slow, figuring things out as we went, and somehow, that was enough for now.
When Hugh came back to pick me up, we were both ready for whatever the rest of the day had in store. We were in this together.
The moment we stepped through the door at Blake and Ryan’s, the familiar sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor reached my ears. Before I knew it, all three of their daughters—James, Betty, and Inez—came running toward us, their faces lighting up in excitement.
“Y/n! Hugh!” they squealed in unison, their voices high-pitched with joy.
I couldn’t help but grin as I bent down to greet them, enveloping each one of them in a warm hug. Hugh followed suit, gently embracing them, his face soft with affection. Ryan stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on his face.
“I swear, they get more excited when you two show up than when Blake and I come home." Ryan quipped, shaking his head as if the betrayal was real.
I chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair as she beamed up at me. “Well, I mean, we are the fun ones.”
Blake walked up behind him, smirking as she shrugged her shoulders. “Can you really blame them?” she said, giving Ryan a teasing nudge.
Before I could respond, the seven-year-old James grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the living room. “Come on, y/n! I want to show you something!”
I let her guide me into the cozy room, where Penny and Baxter, the two dogs, were lounging lazily on the floor. James hurried over to a corner piled high with toys and grabbed two Barbie dolls, her excitement radiating off her.
“Look!” she said, holding up the first Barbie. “This one looks just like you!” The doll was dressed in sporty clothes that reminded me of what I’d worn in my recent Instagram post. “And this one." she added, grabbing the second doll, “looks like Mommy.”
I laughed softly, touched by her creativity. “Wow, you nailed it! I can totally see the resemblance.”
As I sat down with her to admire her Barbie collection, I noticed Hugh standing in the doorway, his smile widening as he watched us. But before he could come over, Betty and Inez had already ambushed him, grabbing onto his legs and giggling uncontrollably.
“Hugh! Hugh!” Inez exclaimed, her arms wrapped tightly around one of his legs. “Can we watch the Minions again? Please? Pleeease?”
Betty chimed in, nodding with equal enthusiasm. “Yeah, can we?”
Ryan strolled into the room, laughing as he leaned against the doorframe. “Again? How many times have you guys watched that now? Fifty? Sixty?”
Hugh chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair. “Maybe after dinner, alright? You two might know it better than I do at this point.”
Just then, Blake called out from the dining room, “Okay, everyone, dinner’s ready! Let’s give Hugh a break and get some food in your bellies first.”
We all made our way to the dining room, and as I sat down at the beautifully set table, I couldn’t help but admire the spread. Blake had outdone herself again.
“This looks incredible!" I commented as I took my seat, glancing appreciatively at the dishes laid out before us.
Blake smiled, waving off the compliment. “Ah, it’s nothing. Ryan helped, too.”
Ryan straightened in his chair, pretending to be the world’s greatest chef. “Yeah, I practically made the entire thing,” he boasted, earning a playful elbow to the side from Blake.
While we ate and talked about today's events, I noticed that James, Betty, and Inez had already finished their meals. The three of them looked up at Blake and Ryan with wide, pleading eyes.
"Mom, Dad, can we go play with Penny and Baxter now? Please?" James asked, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.
Ryan exchanged a glance with Blake before nodding. "Alright, you three can go. Just don’t feed the dogs under the table again." he added with a mock sternness that made the girls giggle.
The kids squealed and scrambled out of their chairs, racing back toward the living room where the dogs were waiting for them. Blake shook her head fondly as she watched them go, and we all settled back into the conversation.
I was right in the middle of talking about something funny that had happened at work when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I excused myself, stepping outside to take the call. When I saw Chris Evans’ name on the screen, I smiled.
“Hey, Chris!” I greeted, leaning against the side of the house.
“Y/n!" Chris’s voice came through with its usual warmth. “I’m heading down to New York tomorrow. Wanna grab a beer?”
I smiled. “Absolutely! Let’s meet at the pub we always go to. How’s 7 p.m.?”
“Perfect!" Chris replied. “Looking forward to catching up.”
We wrapped up the conversation, and I headed back inside. As I slipped into my seat, Hugh gave me a gentle smile and placed his hand on my leg under the table, his touch grounding me.
“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking my thigh in a way that sent a small wave of comfort through me.
I nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, all good. Just Chris Evans. He’s coming to New York tomorrow, so we’re grabbing a drink.”
Ryan’s ears perked up immediately, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, Captain America, huh? Should Hugh be worried?”
Blake chuckled beside him, clearly in on the joke. I rolled my eyes, laughing. “No, no need to worry. Chris is like an older brother to me.”
Hugh looked intrigued, glancing between Ryan and me. “You and Chris go way back?”
I nodded, leaning back in my chair as I began to explain. “Yeah, Chris, Scarlett Johansson, and I studied together in New York when we were both starting out. They were a few years ahead of me, but we ended up in the same acting workshops. We hit it off and became good friends.”
Blake leaned forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Oh, you never told me your stories of university! You must have some great ones.”
Ryan grinned. “Come on, spill! Any embarrassing moments with Captain America and Black Widow?”
I laughed. “Oh, tons. Like the time they got lost in Central Park for two hours and missed class. Scarlett shook it off, but Chris was so mortified, and we all gave him a hard time for it.”
Ryan cracked up at the image, and Hugh smiled, though I could tell he was focused on every word. “That sounds like him." Ryan said. “Always such a big goof.”
Blake leaned closer, clearly digging for more. “Didn’t you two do a movie together a few years back? Weren’t there some pretty steamy scenes in that one?”
I felt my cheeks warm slightly at the memory. “Yeah, we did." I admitted, chuckling. “It was a bit... awkward, though, because by then, Chris really did feel more like a brother to me.”
Ryan, however, wasn’t about to let me off the hook that easily. “Wait, so it wasn’t always that way?”
I hesitated for a beat, then shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well.. back when we were in school, we might’ve had a little... thing. You know, one of those fleeting ‘we’re young and in New York’ flings. But it didn’t last long. Now, he’s definitely more of a brother figure.”
Blake’s eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as she burst out laughing. “Y/n! You never told me you and Chris had a fling!”
Ryan nearly doubled over in laughter, slapping the table. “Oh my god, Hugh, you hearing this? Captain America and y/n!”
Hugh laughed, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, glancing at me with a mix of amusement and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.
Blake continued to laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you kept that from me!”
I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed but laughing along with them. “It was a long time ago! And honestly, when we filmed that movie, it just felt... weird. I mean, trying to be sexy with someone who you now see as a brother? Not the easiest thing.”
Ryan wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “I bet those scenes were really uncomfortable to shoot.”
“They were." I admitted, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “But Chris was a total professional about it.”
Hugh remained quiet for a moment, still smiling, but I could tell something about the story didn’t sit quite right with him.
“So, what was it like studying here in New York? It sounds like it was a pretty wild time.” Blake wiggled with her eyebrows.
I grinned, thinking back to those chaotic, exciting days. “It definitely had its moments. The city was also back then a constant whirlwind. We were all broke, doing odd jobs between auditions, but somehow, it was the best time of my life.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. Was it all method acting and deep emotional discovery, or were you guys just trying to out-party each other?”
I laughed. “A little bit of both, honestly. There were definitely nights when we all showed up to class with way too little sleep.”
Ryan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And Captain America was part of those late-night adventures?”
I rolled my eyes. “Chris was usually the responsible one, believe it or not. He’d be the guy dragging everyone out of some dive bar at 2 a.m., telling us we had early classes. Of course, he wasn’t always that responsible...”
Hugh’s interest was piqued, his eyes twinkling. “You and Chris really went through it together, huh?”
I nodded, smiling at the memories. “Yeah, we had a lot of fun. We’d rehearse scenes together, mess around in the park, just being broke, and ambitious kids trying to make it.”
Ryan, never missing a beat, chimed in again. “So what you’re saying is, if Chris wasn’t Captain America, he could’ve been, I dunno, some Shakespearean actor, dragging everyone through intense rehearsals and then buying them all hot dogs afterward?”
I laughed. “Exactly! The perfect balance of intense and laid-back.”
"What other stories do you have up your sleeve?" Ryan grinned and put his arm around his wife.
“Well.. while studying, I also worked as a barista, and believe me, I was a terrible barista.” I started, chuckling at the memory.
Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you worked at a coffee shop?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I needed to pay rent somehow, so I got a job at this little café near campus. It was my first day, and I was already a nervous wreck. The owner was this sweet, older man—kind of like a grandpa figure to everyone. But I was so jittery that when he came over to check how I was doing, I somehow managed to spill an entire tray of coffee and raspberry cake all over him.”
Everyone at the table burst into laughter, especially Ryan, who wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s priceless. What did he do?”
I grinned at the memory. “He just stood there for a second, covered in coffee, and then he started laughing. He looked at me and said, ‘Well, at least you didn’t burn me.’ From then on, he teased me about it every single shift. He’d walk past me and say, ‘Careful, y/n, hot beverages on the loose!’ It was actually really sweet.”
Blake smiled, shaking her head. “Sounds like he was a good guy.”
“Yeah, he was the best." I agreed. “Honestly, he was one of the reasons I stuck around for so long.”
Hugh, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a small smile. “Well, since we’re sharing job stories… the ladies might not know this, but before I became an actor, I was a P.E. teacher in England.”
I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? You were a teacher? That’s crazy!”
Ryan immediately jumped in with a wide grin. “Oh man, y/n, can you imagine if Hugh had been your teacher back then? You would’ve been the star student in P.E., right?”
I felt my cheeks flush, laughing at the absurd thought. “Honestly, if Hugh had been my teacher, I think I would’ve suddenly developed an intense love for sports.”
Blake burst out laughing while Hugh chuckled, shaking his head at our comments. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that would’ve been appropriate,” Hugh said, still smiling, though his ears were a little pink.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, still grinning. “Hey, you never know. Maybe you’d have inspired her to get into, I don’t know, gymnastics or something.”
Blake swatted Ryan on the arm, but she was laughing just as hard. “Leave them alone! Besides, I bet Hugh was an amazing teacher.”
Hugh shrugged modestly. “It was a good job, honestly. I loved working with the kids, but eventually, I realized my passion was acting.”
I turned to him, still amazed. “That’s so cool, though. I would’ve never guessed. You’ve had quite the journey.”
He smiled warmly at me, and I could see a glimmer of pride in his eyes, as if the memories of his teaching days still meant something to him. “It was definitely a unique chapter in my life. But hey, everything leads you somewhere, right?”
Ryan couldn’t resist one more joke, leaning in with a sly grin. “Yeah, and luckily, it led you to us, huh?”
The conversation slowed down after that, everyone quietly soaking in the warmth of the room and each other’s company. Blake glanced around the table, then clapped her hands together.
“Well, how about we clear the table and grab some wine?”
Hugh and I immediately stood up, ready to help, but Blake waved us off. “Oh no, you two relax. Ryan and I have it covered.”
Ryan was already stacking plates and giving us a wink. “Yeah, sit tight, lovebirds.”
As we sat back down, Hugh placed his hand gently on my thigh, his touch making me feel all warm and cozy inside. He smiled at me, that tender look in his eyes that always made my heart skip a beat.
Feeling a bit giddy, I leaned in closer to him and whispered. “Do you think we should tell them about us now? Or wait until another time?”
Hugh’s thumb rubbed small circles against my leg as he considered it. “Yeah, let’s tell them. They’re our best friends—they should know we’re giving this a shot.”
His quiet confidence soothed the last of my nerves, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, just as the door to the dining room swung open, and Ryan strutted back in, carrying wine glasses.
“Ohohoh! What’s this? What did I just miss?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock shock. “And don’t forget, there are children in this house!”
Blake followed right behind him, her eyes darting between us, a curious smile playing on her lips. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, setting down a bottle of wine.
Hugh chuckled softly and glanced at me before addressing them both. “Actually, we wanted to tell you guys something. Y/n and I... well, we’re trying this thing out. We’re seeing where it goes.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Blake and Ryan exchanged looks, their expressions quickly morphing into wide grins. Blake let out a little squeal of excitement.
“Oh my god! You talked!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You two are adorable!”
Ryan set down the glasses with a loud clink, looking between Hugh and me with that signature playful grin of his. “Well, it’s about damn time! You guys have been giving off major will-they-won’t-they vibes for ages.”
Blake nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so happy for you guys.���
Their support and enthusiasm washed over me, easing any lingering uncertainty I had. Hugh squeezed my hand under the table, and I couldn’t help but smile up at him, grateful for how effortlessly everything seemed to fall into place.
Ryan, never one to miss a joke, raised his glass toward us. “Here’s to y/n and Hugh—and to all the future awkward family dinners where we can tease you both relentlessly.”
Blake snorted with laughter, pouring everyone a glass of wine. “Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you. Sometimes.”
We all raised our glasses, clinking them together in a toast to new beginnings.
The conversation flowed easily as we all continued to drink our wine, sharing more stories and laughing until our glasses were empty. Eventually, we decided to join the kids in the living room. As soon as we walked in, Inez grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her pile of Barbies, while Penny and Baxter trotted over to greet us.
I sat on the floor with one hand helping Inez arrange her Barbies while my other hand stroked Baxter, who had curled up next to me. The rest of the group settled on the couches, chatting and laughing as the kids played around us.
We spent a while there enjoying the comfortable, laid-back atmosphere, but eventually, I felt a yawn escape me. Ryan noticed it immediately and pointed dramatically.
“Alright, I think it’s official—time for all the kids to head to bed!” he teased, earning a laugh from Blake and a chorus of giggles from the actual children.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I guess I walked right into that one.”
Blake stood up and stretched, signaling that the evening was winding down. “Yeah, we should probably wrap things up before we have to carry anyone out of here.”
We all said our goodbyes, exchanging hugs and thanking each other for the great night. As we stepped outside, Hugh and I found ourselves standing by our cars, lingering in the cool night air.
I smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening still lingering between us. “So, what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”
Hugh shrugged lightly. “Not too exciting, honestly. I’m helping a friend with some work on his house in the morning, then I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and after that, I’m calling my brother to talk about my visit in Sydney to catch up with my family.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a busy day. Hometown huh?"
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone." he said softly, then smiled at me. “What about you? Plans with Chris?”
I grinned, the thought of seeing Chris again making me feel both nostalgic and excited. “Yeah, but we’re not meeting until the evening for a drink. Until then I'll call my parents because I promised them last week and after that I'll meet up with my management."
For a moment, we stood there, the air between us feeling charged in a quiet, tender way. After a small pause, we leaned into each other at the same time. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other hand found its way to my cheek. Our lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.
When we pulled away, there was a comfortable silence between us, our eyes lingering on each other as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye just yet. I gently stroked my hands over his shoulders down to his chest.
“Well." I said, my voice a little softer than usual. "I guess I’ll see you soon. Good night."
Hugh nodded, his smile warm and easy. “Yeah, good night y/n. Text me when you're home."
"Will do." I smiled.
With that, we each got into our cars, and as I drove home, my mind wandered back to the evening—Blake and Ryan’s support, the kids, the laughter, the stories, and of course, the kisses. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time, and I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about tomorrow’s meeting with Chris.
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Tags: @spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris
Next part
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coco-loco-nut · 10 months ago
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Revelations - part 2
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Summary: bringing the kids to a gp
A/n: whoooo double drop day! Enjoy!!!!
requests open masterlist part one
——————————————
“You know the drill, stay with me or your dad,” you remind your son and daughter as Daniel parks. Oscar immediately came to visit your home when you got back to Australia, wanting to catch up on the hidden parts of his fellow Aussies lives. The exchange? Free babysitting.
Daniel is such a girl dad, it almost pains you that your daughter likes him more than you, but your son is a mama’s boy so it balances out.
“Florence, keep a tight hold of me,” Daniel says, carrying the four year old on his him. She dozes on his shoulder halfway to the paddock entrance. Your son, Sidney, had a tight grip of your hand. You decided to get here early, before media, so there was a less stressful entrance. Even the video that Red Bull posts of Daniel walking through the paddock blurs out your children’s faces.
“Uncle Maxie,” your daughter stretches her arms out to the Dutchman. He carefully takes her and walks off, chatting away. If it were anyone but Max, you might be concerned.
“Hi Uncle Christian,” Sidney greets his godfather excitedly, the older man equally happy to see his godson. Christian gives you and Daniel the go ahead to walk away and grab breakfast at Hospitality.
“Will you be okay watching them the whole race while being my engineer?” Daniel asks as you both pick at your plates.
“Kelly is going to keep an eye on them, they will be with her in the garage. I think your Mom is coming in for the race tomorrow,” you tell Daniel. You decided to test out their F1 tolerance during FP3 and Qualis instead of just the race.
They do well enough that you feel comfortable with having them in the garage for the race. You do your race engineer work from the garage instead of the pit wall, preferring to be closer with the mechanics and other engineers. Halfway through the race, your mother-in-law carefully hands you a fussy and tired Florence. You let her sit on your lap as you work, holding her close, something that F1TV caught. She notices you talking to her father.
Daniel, overtake is available at the next DRS
Copy, DRS is enabled
Nice overtake, continue to defend. Daddy?
Is that Flo? Tell her I said hi and to let you work.
Copy, focus on your race, please.
Florence is happy to know her dad heard her and quickly falls asleep on your shoulder.
Daniel, box, fresh set of hards are ready for you.
Copy. How are the kids?
Flo is sleeping and Sid is watching with P. Please focus on the race, Danny. Box, box.
Alright Mrs Ricciardo, I see how it is, all business no fun
Someone has to keep you focused, Daniel.
You honestly don’t know how no one had picked up on Daniel’s radio messages to you before your relationship was revealed. He does focus on the race, it’s his job, but every once in a while he does make comments that aren’t racing related. As the last few laps are underway, Florence wakes up from her nap. You point out her dad on one of the screens and decide to surprise him by letting her talk to him.
“Okay Flo, just like I told you,” you gently remove the headphones covering her ears and put the far too big headset on her. Christian is the one who suggested that you do that.
Great race Daddy, P5
Hi Baby Girl, did you help your mama out this race?
I did, just like you told me to.
Good job, I’m so proud of you. Now, let me talk to your mama, she has some special things to tell me. I’ll see you soon sweetheart.
Hey Daniel, great race. Team’s proud of you. Pull in for weigh ins and media. We will have a quick debrief but we are happy with the race.
Copy. Couldn’t have done it without you and the team. Thanks guys.
Kelly and Daniel’s mom entertain the kids while you and Daniel have post-race meetings, but when you get to his drivers room after your last meeting with the engineers, you find him passed out on the couch with your kids sleeping on him. You snap a picture, sending it to one of your Red Bull group chats as well as directly to Max and Oscar.
Social media was loving the radio clips of you and Daniel talking, as well as Florence congratulating her father. Pair that with the videos of her sleeping on your shoulder mid race and every other clip of you and Daniel with the kids, it’s no wonder why your family is trending.
“Dan,” you whisper, gently shaking your husband’s shoulder.
“Hm? Have I been asleep long?” He whispers, trying not to disturb the kids.
“Probably not. Let’s get back to the hotel,” you smile softly, gently picking up Florence so he can get up. He carries Sidney, who is still asleep, while you carry Florence. Thankfully for the both of you, you were ready to leave.
“No more races for them until they are older,” Daniel proposes.
“Unless it’s here, I think I will agree to that,” you nod, brushing hair off of Florence’s head. You realistically know Daniel only has a couple seasons left in him, and that Florence wants to race just like her dad, so it might be better to wait until one of you is available to be with them the whole time. Sidney stirs as you get closer to your car.
“That was fun, when are we going again?”
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bumblesimagines · 7 months ago
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Ride or Die, Remember?
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Part 2
Request: Yes or No
Summary: Despite what happened between Karen and Frank, Lip can't let her go and (Y/N) begins growing tired of it. Another Gallagher sees an opportunity.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
TW/CW: Mentions of teen-adult relationships (Kash-Ian, Karen-Jody), typical Shameless warnings, brothers best friend trope, some sexual content dontlookatme, minor violence at the end
Plot was too juicy to abandon
~~~
What was it about Karen fucking Jackson that had every guy losing their mind over her?
(Y/N) hardly understood why Lip tripped over himself chasing after a girl who looked like half the rest of the city's population. There were petite, skinny, blonde girls with raging daddy issues everywhere, and yet all he ever spoke about was her. Karen this, Karen that, Karen, Karen, Karen. He missed the old days before she sprung up in their lives, the days when they'd make a quick buck off struggling students and hang out with people apart from the whiny blonde.
Exhaling smoke from his lungs, he pressed the cigarette into the wooden railing of the porch and flicked it in a random direction, the distant sound of honking mixed with the muffled sound of children inside the house filling the air. He checked his phone for the sixth time and still found no new message from Lip. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and pushed himself off the railing, considering finding something better to do than standing around like a fool waiting for him. 
"Hey, (Y/N)," Ian's voice greeted him, sweat dripping off his pale face from the sweltering heat of summer. Parts of his shirt had darkened in color from the sweat accumulated across his body, and (Y/N) had long discarded his own in favor of not walking around stinking like shit. Ian's eyes jumped down from (Y/N)'s face to not-so-subtly eye him before he mustered a polite smile. "Waiting for Lip?"
"Apparently." (Y/N) huffed. "He called and when I got here all I found was Debs with like forty kids and Fiona sleeping upstairs."
"You, uh... wanna wait in the pool? It's better than waiting inside with the kids or out here in the heat." Ian offered with a tilt of his head, his smile widening when (Y/N) nodded. Lounging around in water certainly sounded more appealing than melting on a porch waiting for Lip to show up. 
Ian opened the front door and they stepped inside, maneuvering around the playing children while Debbie and Ethel tried keeping everyone in check. Ian shed his soaked shirt and tossed it aside into the laundry basket by the washing machine, briefly poking his head into the bathroom by the second staircase to grab two towels before he led (Y/N) outside into the backyard. (Y/N) slipped his shorts off, kicking off his shoes and socks as Ian did similarly. 
The water had long been warmed by the sun but it still felt heavenly against his heated skin. Ian laughed at the sigh of relief that left him and hopped into the pool, the splash from his body colliding with the surface spraying over (Y/N). Ian resurfaced and grinned at him mischievously, wiggling his brows in a silent challenge. Arching one of his own, (Y/N) snatched one of the pool noodles floating about and snickered when Ian hurriedly paddled away to get the other one. 
It felt nice being able to act like a child instead of having to scramble around pickpocketing or fighting to stay alive. It also felt nice to have someone to be a kid with instead of being dragged around by a pussy-whipped genius who only ever spoke or cared about one single topic. Splashing around and beating each other up with foam toys made (Y/N) reconsider if perhaps he'd chosen the wrong Gallagher to befriend. 
Dipping one end of his pool noodle into the water, Ian waited a moment before he lifted it and pointed the end at (Y/N), pressing his lips to the other end and blowing into it to spurt water at him. (Y/N) turned away with a laugh and felt the water land along his back, his arm making a sweeping motion along the surface of the rocking water to return the gesture.
Immediately, another water fight began but it ended just as quickly when Ian grabbed his wrist and held them, a wide grin toying at his lips. 
"Looks like all that wannabe soldier shit paid off." (Y/N) said as he wiggled his hands free from Ian's hold. West Point, or so he'd heard, was Ian's goal for the summer. Lip whined about it whenever Karen miraculously wasn't on his mind. 
Ian's eyes lit up and he raised his arm out of the water to flex his developing bicep, droplets of water dripping off the muscle. "You think so?" He asked, teeth digging into his bottom lip.
"Yeah," (Y/N) snorted and smacked the back of his hand against Ian's stomach. "You've got abs now, kid. Congrats."
"Can't call me kid if you're only a year older, (Y/N)," Ian told him, dropping his arm back into the water and moving closer to press against the pool's wall. He placed his arms along the top and hooked his chin over one to watch him with those dark green eyes. The sun lightened them enough for (Y/N) to spot the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at him. 
"Whatever, Carrot Top." (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the ginger and focused on the rippling water. "Are you seriously going to apply? If you do Lip's probably going to end up going with you. He's worried about you. He thinks you're going to get yourself killed and shipped back in a coffin."
"Is that what you think, too?" Ian questioned quietly, a hint of disappointment in his tone. Lip had no doubt made his opinion of West Point and being a soldier loud and clear to his brother, likely numerous times. Lip never gained the ability to take a hint. 
"I don't think about you as much as you think about me." (Y/N) flashed him a grin and chuckled when Ian scoffed at his words, his pale cheeks undeniably burning hot. He looked away from him for a moment and then something sparked in his eyes. 
"I bet after today you'll think about me more often." Ian cooed, slipping one arm back into the water and reaching out to trace his fingertip over the waistband of (Y/N)'s briefs. A chill jolted down (Y/N)'s spine and he pushed Ian's hand away with an eye roll, some heat rushing to his face. "If you've known I liked you, why haven't you ever done anything about it?" Ian asked, shuffling closer.
"Because until a few months ago you had the face of a twelve-year-old. All cheeks and big eyes." (Y/N) grinned and pinched Ian's cheek, chuckling when he swatted at his hand and gave a soft huff. "Besides, you're Lip's brother, and the siblings of friends are always off-limits. Too much drama. It's not worth fighting or arguing over a quick fuck." 
"I could be more than that," Ian argued softly.
(Y/N) hummed forcibly, feeling his body tense and heart squeeze in a less-than-comfortable way. The heat flooding his face and neck felt unbearable and every part of him wanted to snap at Ian to replace the feelings bubbling inside with something familiar. He glanced at the blazing sun over his shoulder, noticing the blue in the sky beginning to turn orange.
"I should get going. I'm not going to sit around waiting for Lip forever." (Y/N) forced out and propelled himself toward the ladder, quickly climbing out and grabbing one of the towels. 
"Hey, wait, you can- you can stay for dinner if you want? You should take a shower, too. Nobody should be using it right now." Lip sputtered out, following him out of the pool and hopping down onto the grass beneath. He took the second towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, his brows slightly knitting. 
"Fine, I'll take a shower but I don't want to hear shit about the water bill." (Y/N) said and retrieved the clothes on the ground, following Ian back inside where Debbie, Ethel, and Fiona were cleaning up the mess left behind by the children they babysat.
Fiona greeted him with a sweet smile and friendly shoulder squeeze before she returned to the living room and continued cleaning. They took the stairs by the kitchen and Ian checked the bathroom, giving a small nod. (Y/N) muttered a small 'thanks' and stepped inside, setting his clothes aside and turning the shower on. Before he could close the door, Ian pressed his hand against it. 
"We, uh... we could save water by showering together, you know. It's a tight squeeze but we could make it work. It'd help with the bill, too." Ian's face reddened, almost matching the shade of his hair. (Y/N) blinked at him, unable to resist the amused smile from appearing on his face. He snorted and brought a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose and tilting his body so Ian could step inside the bathroom. 
Ian's features comically brightened and he eagerly slipped inside, shutting the door behind him and letting out an airy, almost surprised laugh. (Y/N) rolled his soaked briefs off himself and tossed them aside, one hand reaching into the shower to feel the warmth of the water before he stepped inside, a sprinkle of smugness slipping through his veins when Ian's eyes tracked him. 
The water felt nice against his cool skin and he dipped his head under the running water, feeling the water trickle down his face and chest. He almost flinched when the soap bar was pressed against his back, a gentle hand rubbing the soap against his skin and helping rinse it off with water.
(Y/N) smiled to himself and stepped forward slightly, turning around and tugging Ian under the water. He raised his hands to the short soft hair on his head and trekked his fingers through it, thoroughly washing his hair with a small grin. 
"It's nice, right?" Ian asked, stepping back and wiping water off his face. His soapy hands reached down, rubbing along (Y/N)'s sides before his fingers dug into the muscles of his hips. (Y/N) arched a brow, managing to keep his attention focused on Ian's face despite the temptation to glance downward. 
"What is?"
"Being taken care of," Ian answered, pulling him forward with ease and pressing his lips into the side of (Y/N)'s neck when their chests pressed together. (Y/N)'s fingers curled around whatever hair he could grasp, a soft sigh leaving him followed by a small chuckle. He felt Ian's arms coil around him, pressing him as close as possible and making both their breaths hitch briefly. 
"Ian." (Y/N) murmured warningly, his free hand grabbing the ginger's shoulder and pushing on it weakly. "Lip will be pissed-"
"I don't care." Ian exhaled against his neck, pressing his lips against it again and suckling a light marking on it that made (Y/N) shudder and Ian grin. He trailed quick yet sweet kisses up his neck and jawline until he reached (Y/N)'s lips, lingering over them briefly before kissing him with need. (Y/N) let out a muffled grunt, unused to the feeling of being wanted outside of drunken hookups at parties, but he savored it. Ian knew how to keep a secret, anyway.
There was a mutual giddiness to it; kissing under the shower, touching new uncharted territory, whining and grunting in each other's mouths when one of them grounded their hips together. Ian gave in first, pulling away from (Y/N) with almost swollen lips and a trail of saliva connecting them. (Y/N) gaped at him when Ian lowered himself down onto the floor of the tub, the spray of the water mostly blocked by (Y/N)'s body. A rush of heat shot down to his lower belly and he felt himself flush again, his hand continuing to grip Ian's hair while the other planted itself against the cold tile wall. 
Ian's hands roamed his thighs, the water slipping between his fingers as he squeezed whatever fat and muscle he could. He brushed his lips teasingly over his skin, leaving gentle nips behind that had goosebumps rising along his body.
A sharp curse left (Y/N) when Ian's soft lips wrapped around him, pleasure shooting up his spine and spreading through his veins like a wildfire threatening to consume his mind. Ian's eyes jumped up to his face, big and wide and full of mischief and desire. (Y/N) could hardly look at him, unusual for a guy used to things like hookups, but everything felt different with Ian. Too personal. Too emotional. 
Part of (Y/N) wanted to reel away, to push Ian away despite the fact his hand pushed against the back of Ian's head and drew him closer. Ian's grip on his thighs tightened, his cheeks burning once again with a fiery red and eyes slowly turning glassy with tears. (Y/N) breathlessly chuckled at the sight and Ian's eyes narrowed, his tongue suddenly pressing flat against him and making (Y/N) curse again.
It was odd, (Y/N) had to admit, having Ian before him in such a state when he spent so much of his alone time with Lip lightheartedly poking fun at the boy's crush. 
"How-" (Y/N) swallowed roughly when Ian drew his head back, only to move forward again faster than last time. "How many times have you dreamt about this, huh?" 
Ian dug his fingertips into his skin hard enough to leave indents from his blunt nails in response before his hands continued exploring, squeezing and digging into everything they could find. Soft panting, cursing, and the occasional sound of gagging filled the small bathroom, mixing in with the sound of water; soft enough for the house to remain unaware but loud enough for Fiona to grab the door handle then jerk her hand back as if it'd burned her when the noise reached her ears. 
It didn't take a while for (Y/N) to fall apart, his legs trembling slightly and his hand tearing itself from Ian's head to slam against the wall before he could topple over. Ian took him as well as he could, nose brushing against the fuzzy hairs growing at the base and eyes crinkled with pride and delight.
He remained there until satisfied and drew back fully, grinning widely at the string connecting his lips to (Y/N)'s most intimate body part. His tongue swiped over his lips and he used the edge of the tub to stand back up on wobbly legs, his knees red from his time kneeling. 
"Jesus, Ian," (Y/N) murmured, watching Ian swallow happily before his mouth parted to catch the spraying water, using it to rinse his mouth. He tilted his head away and spat it back out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning in to kiss him again. (Y/N) weakly returned it, one hand removing itself from the wall to grab Ian's hip. 
His hazy mind slowly cleared, air properly returning to his lungs and allowing him to steady himself. Ian watched his face with a wide smile, one that disappeared when the hand on his hip cupped him. Ian's head dropped onto (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hips stuttering when fingers wrapped around him.
"Asshole," Ian hissed when (Y/N) gave him a teasing, experimental squeeze. 
"Don't bite the hand that feeds." (Y/N) breathed in his ear and felt Ian twitch at his words, his whole body shuddering. 
Ian clamped his teeth lightly on (Y/N)'s shoulder, his hands fumbling around the older teen's body desperate to find something to hold onto when (Y/N)'s hand slowly moved. He hardly had any of Ian's kindness; slowly taking his time and watching Ian easily crumble. Ian was surprisingly well-endowed, though he supposed the whole skinny guy joke held some truth to it. Ian's teeth dug harder into his skin when the pace quickened, his hips bucking along with the movements and a trickle of saliva escaping the corner of his mouth.
"Easy, Ian." (Y/N) cooed as Ian practically humped his hand, slowing down his pace and arching his brows at him.
"God, you're a dick." The ginger whined, finally releasing (Y/N)'s shoulder and instead burying his face into his neck, lips mouthing different curses as more whines and sighs escaped him. Once Ian's desperation subsided, (Y/N) returned to the quick pace abruptly and slung his other arm around Ian's waist to keep him from actually crumbling onto the tub. Whether Ian was sensitive to touch or simply sensitive to his touch, (Y/N) enjoyed watching him turn into a breathy, almost blabbering mess.
Ian pulled away from his neck to slam their lips together, teeth nearly clacking together from the force. He let a low, whiny-ish groan against him, his release coating (Y/N)'s thigh and slowly washing away with the water sliding down his body. (Y/N) laughed breathlessly and kept an arm around Ian until he grew steady again before he properly washed himself off and stepped out of the tub.
Tying the towel around his hips, he grabbed his clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, making brief eye contact with an amused Fiona down the hall before turning and entering the boys' shared bedroom. He rummaged through the underwear drawer until he found one of his old pairs and slipped them on, followed by his shorts and the shirt he'd previously tossed aside when he'd first arrived.
Ian slipped inside a moment later, drying himself off before sorting through his clothes and throwing them on while (Y/N) collapsed on his warm bed.��
"We should hang out more often." Ian said with a grin, plopping down on the mattress beside him and leaning down to kiss him. "Especially without Lip." 
As if on cue, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. "(Y/N)? You here? I got caught up with somethin', I swear." Lip called out into the house, his voice also echoing and bouncing off the walls. 
"Speaking of," (Y/N) sighed heavily and peeled himself from the bed, throwing the bedroom door open and making a sharp turn down the staircase into the kitchen.
Ian followed him, taking a sandwich Carl went to bite into and giving his little brother a grin right as he shoved half of it into his mouth and offered it back. (Y/N) snorted at the interaction and shook his head, peering into the living room to find the teen waiting by the first staircase. 
"Yo!" Lip greeted without a speck of guilt on his face. It grinded (Y/N)'s gears. "I was thinkin' we should run a background check on Jody to see if any sketchy shit pops up. You know a guy who can do that, right? Anything we find, we show to Karen. He's got to have a couple arrests, maybe we'll get lucky with a restraining order- why are you looking at me like that?"
"'Cause I'm fucking exhausted of your bullshit, Lip." (Y/N) scoffed, shoving past Lip and slamming their shoulders together hard enough for Lip to stagger backward. Lip shot Ian a bewildered look and the two Gallaghers scrambled outside after him. 
"What- What are you talking about? Listen, I know I'm a little late but I'll make it up to you, I promise, alright? I just need this favor, okay?" Lip's words only made his eyes roll, his jaw ticking and teeth grinding together. Lip grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him before he could fully leave the front yard, holding onto the sleeve of his shirt. He stared at him, his chest slightly heaving before his jaw clenched. Ever the short fuse. They were birds of a feather, the both of 'em. "Why can't you do this one thing for me, (Y/N)? Is it because of Karen? Because I'm in love with her and not you?"
(Y/N) nearly went jaw-slacked at his words, brows raising and eyes slightly widening. He could only stare at him in silence, the sneer he'd said it with feeling like a stab to the gut. It seemed as if all at once, the love, care, and awe he'd once held for the teen since the third day of first grade evaporated, replaced with bitterness and hurt. His brows dropped back into place and his head leaned back, a hum escaping his throat. 
"Is that what it is? You're pissed I'll never like you like that? That- what? I'll never be the Kash to your Ian? I love Karen. It will always be Karen, and the second you get that through your fucking skull, shit will go back to normal." Lip released him roughly, regret seeping into his vibrant eyes already, but pride never allowed him to apologize, not to anyone. 
"You..." (Y/N) laughed, and it felt as if a fog had lifted and the rose-tinted glasses had slipped off. "You are pathetic, Lip. Jesus Christ, you're a fucking loser. How come I never realized that shit? You're just a pussy whipped dickhead who acts like a dog in heat whenever Karen's around. I mean, shit. That's... that's so fucking depressing. You follow her around like a little kicked puppy, lapping up whatever seconds the guys at school and Jody leave for you. You're Karen's little bitch and you don't even realize it." 
Lip's eyes lit ablaze. "And what the fuck does that make you, huh? Everyone already knows you're my bi-"
Before the words could leave his mouth, (Y/N)'s fist connected with his cheekbone, and he fell to the pavement with a groan. (Y/N)'s instincts told him to kick him next, to kick his stomach, his groin, his face. His genes begged for violence, urged him to get the job done by breaking a bone or leaving him bloody; and despite every part of him wanting to do so, he swallowed down the rage as best he could. He took a deep inhale and slammed his foot into Lip's side, the force pushing Lip back onto the grass and out of his way. It'd certainly leave a nasty bruise.
"Go fuck yourself, Phillip. You want to chase after some ran-through bitch for the rest of your life, be my guest. I don't need you fucking up my year and making me look like I give a shit about some pathetic little boy toy." (Y/N) spat down at him and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
"I'll see you around?" He stopped at the sound of Ian's voice, tilting his head over his shoulder to look at him as he crouched down by Lip's withering body. Lip coughed and clutched his side, his brows furrowing and eyes flickering between the two. (Y/N) felt a fluttery feeling develop in his stomach. 
"Yeah," He grinned. "Definitely."
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hanibalistic · 3 days ago
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HIT DOG HOLLER, HIT DOG'S COLLAR | JAKE SIM.
genre | fluff, angst / hurt comfort au
synopsis | when a dog was surrendered to the shelter you worked it, you had no other choice but to call your ex-boyfriend for help.  
word count | 4.2k+
warning | mention of abandoned pets, pet urine / dog is referred to as 'it' in narration / mention of insecurities
note | i kept telling myself i am allowed to finish this even though i can't find any point in the story.
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Jake bolted out of his dorm room when you texted him for the first time after six months.
The annoyed complaints of his half-asleep roommate were fleeting. Strings of curses bounced off his hurried figure as he scrambled to put on a pair of sweatpants. When he snatched the keys off his desk, he knocked over the water bottle on the edge and earned another earful before he slammed the door shut.
The roads were empty and dark so late at night, allowing him to speed without potential repercussions. He checked his phone repeatedly during the drive for new messages, but the only text you sent after finally unblocking him was ‘help. shelter.’ It was radio silence after, like it had been the past six months.
It had been a mistake.
Jake knew he wasn't the type of man to take a bet. During his university years, nonetheless! But the effect of alcohol, his aversion to confrontation, and his friends' rowdiness pushed him to keep at the lie.
One year ago, he drunkenly confessed to you at a party, and you gave him a chance. Twelve months into dating each other, his friends drunkenly told you the truth, and you cut him out of your life without so much as a tear.
Tonight was the first time you've voluntarily spoken to him. He didn't care that you only did it because you needed his help. He would have learned every skill under the sun if it meant you'd talk to him again—plumbing, repairing, installing, modifying, you name it.
Tires screeched over the white line and stopped. He turned off the engine and got out of the car, unfazed as the cold air hit him until he reached the door of the animal shelter you worked at.
The lights were on inside.
He breathed through his mouth because that was the only way to accommodate how much air he needed.
You were inside, waiting for him.
A moment passed after he knocked. You opened the door carefully, peeking over the door frame not because you were cautious of the visitor but because you weren’t ready to face Jake yet.
His hair was disheveled, and his small eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He did not wear enough for the cold weather, but the shelter was warm enough, so you tried to stop worrying about him.
Veins ran softly along his hands and arms, parts you’ve let touch you all over, inside and out. His limbs used to be confident and bashful, playfully reaching for your waist and shyly searching for your face.
Jake wouldn't dare to touch you now, not even to shake hands, not without your permission. He pulled at his fingers and watched you intently. His gaze traced your face, and his downturned eyes mimicked a dog on its death bed—timid, wishful, pleading.
"Hey," he greeted. "Is everything okay?"
You stared at him, subconsciously reminded of the first time you invited him to accompany you during a day shift at the shelter. Biting back a sob at the question, you shook your head and opened the door wider for him to enter.
“He’s back," you said. "Pluto is back."
Pluto was the golden retriever you and Jake fostered over the summer last year. He was adopted, returned, and adopted again after almost making it to his euthanasia day. It has been months since you last saw him so you thought he had found his forever home.
But, this afternoon, he surrendered again because the parents couldn’t handle having him and more than three children in the home.
You kept him company for most of your shift to ease his anxiety, but when it came time for you to close up and leave, he refused to enter the cage.
You attempted to lure him with toys and treats to no avail. It was as if he knew it would be over once he was locked up behind the metal bars.
“That’s...” Jake swallowed the frustration. He stopped hearing news about Pluto after you broke up. He had no idea it was given up once already. “That’s horrible.”
“I know. My coworker said she tried to convince the mother to bring Pluto home, but...” You trailed off in exhaustion. You rubbed your eyes and sunk your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you for help if I hadn’t run into a dead end. I don’t know what to do.”
"No, don't even–" he waved his hand dismissively with a soft chuckle– "don't even apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."
You smiled. He always told you that. You couldn't remember a time when he was mad at you and demanded an apology, even when some of your decisions had been questionable.
If he was ever upset, you remembered all it ever took were hugs and kisses to make him feel better, the things you give your pet dog to brighten your day and theirs.
Sometimes, you wondered if he was easy or if it only worked for you because he was in love with you.
He told you otherwise, though. After dumping him, he spent two months pestering you however possible with a variety of apologies and only ever one confession: I love you. I love you more than anything.
He stopped after you snapped at him in public, practically humiliating him for your subconscious fulfillment.
You had given him everything—all of your firsts, all of your mind, and all of your body. He had deserved it. He stopped bothering you afterward, which was understandable.
A dog beaten and bruised enough would never return.
“Let's see what I can do," Jake said.
You pursed your lips and gestured for him to follow you.
The shelter remained the way it had been since the last time he visited. White ceiling lights, disorganized papers on the reception table, stacked metal cages, dirty food trays, narrow spaces, a dirty whiff of air, and abandoned pets everywhere.
He didn’t expect otherwise. There were never enough donations or government funds to make it a better place. People wouldn’t even do that for other people, let alone animals.
Jake spoke to the animals along the way, ignoring the ones asleep and cooing at the ones who jumped to greet him. As you led him to the back of the shelter, a sullen mass of fur curled up in the corner came into view.
"Pluto!" he exclaimed with considerate joy as he crouched with open arms. "Do you remember me, sweet boy?"
Pluto remembered. It got up from the corner and pounced on Jake, scraping its paws on his shoulders for a hug and licking his face. He laughed and rubbed its back, letting the affection attacks continue as Pluto pleased.
It got distracted when you also neared. Barking once for good measure, it bounced between your feet and Jake’s embrace, reliving how it used to be when he was still living with you both.
“He looks healthy," Jake said.
“He wasn't abused, just abandoned," you clarified.
"Same difference."
You peered at him like a hit dog about to holler.
In the depths of your conscience, you admitted that you were the one who gave up. Maybe you were well within your right to, or maybe you didn't believe in clarification and second chances.
You tried not to think about it too much. It made you feel bad.
"Where is his cage?" Jake asked offhandedly.
You motioned your chin toward the corner without thinking. You’ve already placed a cartoon blanket inside as a makeshift bed, and the dog bowl was filled half way with dry food.
“Alright, buddy,” Jake said, hopping onto his feet. “Let’s get you inside so we can go home.”
Pluto jumped up to meet Jake’s knees. He played with the dog, swinging his hands around its peripheral vision and playing bitey. You discreetly reached for the cage to open it. When he noticed, he stopped to hold Pluto’s face in his hands before lifting it up by its paws.
Jake was always the good cop. You made Pluto wait for dinner, didn't let it jump on your bed, and never fed it food under the table. Jake was easier. He took it on morning jogs, ran with it when it had zoomies, and sometimes cooked it a small plate of steak.
A little affection and a wide-eyed gaze could go a long way for Jake, but not so much for you.
You always knew the dog liked him better than you. You didn’t realize it would be easy for Jake to pick it up. However, just as you thought your ex-boyfriend would succeed, Pluto dropped its whole weight onto the floor and refused to budge.
Jake yelped at the sudden pull. His feet stuttered to balance himself, forcing him to release Pluto onto the floor. Not giving up, he shook his hands and reached down to try and pull it up again. The dog still wouldn’t budge.
Deciding to try another approach, instead of pulling Pluto up by its torso, Jake thought he could begin with its front legs. Once he gets them through, the rest should follow.
"Come on, buddy," he encouraged. “I know it's scary, but you gotta sleep somewhere warmer than the shelter hallway."
Pluto began to whimper when its front legs reached inside the cage. It used them to support itself, weighing itself down onto them to avoid being pushed inside wholly.
You furrowed your brows as you listened to Jake’s fading encouragement. He was a mirror of who you were a few hours ago when your shift began. He wasn’t growing impatient, only frustrated that this was how it had to be for a beloved pet.
Your shoulders sunk in defeat when you noticed droplets on the floor. Jake paused when you curled a hand around his arm and gently pulled him away.
“Let’s stop. He’s scared,” you said. “He peed on the floor. I’ll go get the mop.”
He glanced at the floor, but he was trying to see if you touched him again. And then he looked up at you, nodding in grim agreement. When you released his arm to clean the floor, he rubbed the spot with invisible desperation, trying his best to somehow keep your hold
"What do we do?" he asked, pressing a firm hold over where you touched him. "Shit, I feel horrible."
"You and me both." you sighed as you watched Pluto shrink into a corner. “I'll stay over with him."
"At the shelter?"
“It's not any worse than my apartment," you said. “Actually, I might be safer here with all the animals around. They’ll look out for me."
He wanted to protest. This was less about safety and more about comfort.
You looked exhausted, and he knew why. Midterms were happening left and right before the winter break, so you must be burning the midnight oil already. You’ve also got a difficult job to juggle with your classes.
He used to have to pull you away from your desk and trap you in his arms to get you to sleep.
Regardless, you needed to sleep somewhere soft and warm, and the animal shelter didn't have anything remotely similar to that besides the furry babies.
The furry babies and him, he supposed.
“I'll stay with you," Jake said.
You shook your head. This would ruin your plan to get over him, which has been going on for over half a year yet has garnered no real progress.
You still thought about him day and night, seeing him in the shadows of your once-shared apartment and whispering his name into your pillow. You blocked and avoided him because you knew he could lure you back so quickly because you had unfortunately been in love with him the entire time.
“It’s fine. You should go home,” you said. “I’m sorry I called you up so late.”
"No, I don't mind," he protested. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway."
He visibly gulped, swallowing any sentiment because you’ve rescinded his right to love you. And you bit your tongue to keep the fight and the cries in because it wasn’t easy to look at him and not do something.
You couldn't kiss him, you couldn't fight him, and you didn't want to hurt him.
"Do whatever you want," you muttered.
Jake watched you leave the room. He heard cabinet doors opening, and he moved against the wall to sit down. He reached a hand out, his palm facing skyward, and he gently lured Pluto onto his lap. When you returned, it was with two thin blankets, one for yourself and one for them.
You reached for the cage to take the food bowl out and closed the door, locking it. You sat next to Jake, across from his side, and wrapped the blanket around you.
"What are we going to do now?” You eyed the dog.
"What are the protocols?" he asked.
"We hold and look for housing," you said. "But–" you reached out to rub Pluto’s head–"he's getting old. It took long enough to find a family who's willing to adopt him, so there's no guarantee we will be able to find anything before he's put on the euthanasia list."
As Jake ran over what you said in his head, you took a small handful of dry food to feed Pluto, who released itself from pressing on Jake’s chest to eat. You smiled at its eagerness, but your brows were furrowed with unspoken sorrow.
It seemed you could already predict Pluto’s fate, but you needed to device a course of action for good measure. Anything to make sure you didn't give up immediately, even when there was nothing you could do.
There was nothing worse than being at the bottom. Knowing that after taking so many turns, you ended up at the dead end you were meant to reach anyway. Looking at you was almost like looking at himself—both of you have exhausted all your resources.
But Jake was known for going above and beyond. At least for you, he would.
“I can adopt him."
You perked up slowly in bewilderment. The reason why you two decided to foster Pluto back then was because of a dual income. If it was so affordable to own an old dog, you would have done it already.
"You live on campus. The dorms don't allow pets," you said. "You also don't have money. What are you gonna do if he gets sick?"
“I’ll move out. I’ll get a second job and pick up more shifts at the current one,” he said with a shrug. “There are cheap places to live, and I’m sure Jay will be willing to help me if it comes down to it.”
"Jake–"
“If push comes to shove, I’ll move back home,” he said, his voice slightly louder to drown out your worries with his optimism. “Let this be the last disappointing thing I do to my mom!”
You wanted to hold his face and talk him out of it. His optimism was both a friend and a foe. Sometimes, it pushes him to do amazing things, but mostly, he ends up embarrassing himself.
No, your coworker wouldn’t want to talk to you after being denied their vacation time over yours. No, your mother already thinks you buy enough unnecessary things; she won’t appreciate this. No, that won’t help anyone like you think it would.
You’ve often had to be his voice of reason for the most trivial things. It usually worked. His brain fries and he turns all putty when he’s being held, but he’s extra impressionable in your hands. He’d agree to anything just to keep you talking.
“You’re going to struggle," you warned.
“I'd rather that than have you feel guilty that you couldn't do more for our dog."
“You don’t know that I will,” you scoffed with a brief glare.
His eyes were on you. It has been on your since the moment you saw each other.
“I know you will. I know you," he retorted.
He was right. No matter how much you played up the role of a bad cop, or the nonchalant pet owner, ultimately, you cared. Maybe not as much as he did, maybe not as much as he could, and definitely not as openly as he could. But you loved the dog. 
It was your dog. It was you and Jake’s dog.
Pluto stayed with you for a few of the happiest months of your life. The months when you woke up seeing Jake and went to sleep talking to him. Losing the dog is a significant progression to an end.
"This isn't about me." You shook your head. “Don't do this for me.”
“I can’t not,” he said. “I want to."
“Why?" It came out before you knew it. It was a trap.
The room went quiet, accompanied only by the sound of chewing and the impossible thoughts of escaping such silence. You focused on the food disappearing from the metal bowl, doing your best to keep away the tremors from knowing his eyes were on you, from already knowing his answer to your question. 
Something has to happen when the food is gone. 
A distraction, an apology, a reconciliation, a blackout.
"Because I love you."
A confession.
You dropped the bowl and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. Heat released from all corners of your body, traveling to the base of your neck where it pulled at your nerves, souring all the way up to your tear ducts. He kept saying that; it was the last thing you wanted to hear from him. 
His breathing quickened at your dismay, and the corners of his lips arched down in shame. He looked away from you at Pluto’s head, wondering what about his affection was so genuinely sickening that you had to reject it with so much force.
If it was about his bet with his friends, he had already attempted to explain that multiple times.
“I'm sorry I kept the bet from you. I really am. I will never deny that it was a terrible decision, that I was drunk when I first confessed to you," he said defensively, a whimper catching in his voice. 
“Won’t you just–“ you rolled your eyes– “just stop. Stop explaining it to me.”
“No! I need you to understand that I never lied about how I felt after!” he exclaimed.
It never changed. His story wouldn’t have a contradiction even if he tried to rip it apart on purpose. He lied to you because he was drunk, he pretended to be your boyfriend, and then he ended up becoming it. His friends told the same story, and he repeated it multiple times. You’ve heard it all.
A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it with intention. When he realized his eyes had begun to cry, his voice and movement followed. Looking down at the floor helplessly, his shoulders hunched up as if to shrink small. 
You blew air into your cheeks and bit the inside of your lip. Seeing him cry made you cry. You never wanted to hurt him again. You didn't think that you could, and oh, how you were proven wrong. 
“How come you don’t believe me?” he asked, his voice timid as a child wronged by his parents. “I fell in love with you. You have no right to take that from me.”
Feeling a sob come up, you dropped your head and stared at the floor. Goosebumps lined around your heart, suppressing its beating with unease. That was the problem. He told the truth, which was the problem because you couldn’t handle it.
"Do you know how I felt when I found out?" you asked. "I wasn't angry, or frustrated, or even sad. I was just disappointed that it made sense."
Jake wasn’t a man of your caliber. Even when he first confessed to you, you mistook it as an act of aggression. Hence, you double-checked with him the next day through text; surprisingly, he didn’t deny it.
He was a great boyfriend. He was kind and supportive, handsome and strong, charming and considerate. The whole nine yards. He stumbled once in a while, but he never did anything wrong.
It was both agony and relief when you discovered that he initially stayed for a bet. While it was hurtful to know you and him would have never happened otherwise, it fulfilled your growing itch that needed a reason to feel bad. While you lost the love of your life, the loss helped you make sense of a greatness you didn’t think you deserved, all by forcing you to let go of it.
Jake didn’t do anything wrong. He couldn’t if he tried. It was just easier when he didn’t love you back. Because then you wouldn’t feel like you were taking up too much space, and your inferiority has a reason to exist. 
“It was hell to hate myself,” you said. “If I made it seem like you never loved me at all, then all the pain wouldn’t be for nothing.”
“I don’t understand.” His voice was tearful, and he played with Pluto’s fur so his hands wouldn’t claw at his skin to peel himself to death, knowing that you felt like hell when you were with him. “Did you always feel like that?”
You went around the answer but remained truthful. Yes, you felt like that all the time. No, it had nothing to do with him. 
You told him how great he was, how you appreciated everything about him. The fact that he remembers every little thing, how his voice is soft, and his willingness to always be the bigger person. 
Self-hate was an accumulated skill that can never be unlearned and only worsens. He was in the wrong position when it decided to show itself. 
You simply didn't love yourself enough to have him. That was it. 
Irregular drops of tears rolled down his face. He began to hiccup away the knots of air stuck in his throat that were supposed to be violent sobs. He looked everywhere but at you, and his hands curled and uncurled to catch pressure in the air.
He suffocated with every word you said. It didn’t matter that you admitted he wasn’t the reason; he was horrified that you thought his love would be better stored anywhere else than with you, his keeper.
For six months, he stayed cooped up inside himself, uncomfortable but unwilling to burst just in case you would come back to drain his soul out of him. He would return to where he belonged, through your mouth into your skin.
The dog on his lap had become a nuisance, but he kept it there. 
Jake pushes nothing away. He stretches and pulls until someone snaps him in half to stop him.
"Please don't be upset," you whispered after cutting yourself short. “I'm sorry for everything. It wasn't your fault.”
“It’s not yours, either,” he said. “The mind is–is a weird thing. It’s a weird thing. Sometimes you can’t help it. I understand. It’s not your fault, either. I don’t want–“ he pursed his lips, his hair shaking with his head– “I don’t want you to blame yourself. It hurts knowing you did something–something bad. I don’t want you to–uh,” his voice became smaller, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”
Scooting to sit next to him, you took off his glasses and set them on the floor next to you. You pulled at the hem of your sweater to wipe the tears around his tired eyes. You cleaned him and yourself, wetting your sleeve with mutual suffering.
“What do I do?” he asked, leaning his head against the wall with a faint shake. “I miss you.”
“I'm sorry," you said, disarming your mind. 
“I won’t say anything. You don’t have to believe I love you. We can just be friends,” he bargained. “I just want to be around. Please let me.”
Pulling your knees up to your chest, you pressed closer against his side and smiled bitterly at the notion that you’ll never find someone like him again. That was why you gave him a chance a year ago, but instead of his dashing looks and fit physique, it was his extraordinary affection this time. 
Who else would love you enough to pretend he doesn’t love you at all? It’s just him.
“I should probably go see a doctor, huh?” you joked, wiping under his eye with your thumb. “They can help me come around.”
Jake raised his hand. It shakily hovered around your wrist, waiting for permission.
You pushed the back of your palm toward it, allowing him to engulf your hand with his, and then you brought it to his face, holding him gently. He smiled a little; he couldn’t help it upon the familiar, long-awaited touch.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
You glanced at his lips. Stained with tears, like it was rained on. You nudged his nose with yours, and you kissed him. He shuddered. His mouth was metallic and sour; you realized there was a canker sore in his mouth. It must be painful. He kissed you anyway, resting his whole life on your lips. 
Pulling away, he bumped his forehead against yours, his features softening in relief. 
It was always the same confession. He never deviated from it.
I love you. I love you more than anything. I love you more than me.
“Do you want to take care of Pluto together?”
And that was your version of it.
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formylovetodaryldixon · 1 month ago
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"Marley's stickers." Daryl Dixon Imagine.
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After returning from a supply run with stickers for his daughter, Daryl is no longer sure if giving them to Marley was a good idea when he finds his crossbow covered in them, especially when he has to leave again with his group.
@eline720: Allright. I see you write with a daughter. Can i please have a one shot when the daughter of Daryl have find stickers. And Daryl searches for his crossbow. Only to find it full of stickers on it. And then the daughter comes in with even more stickers but didn't see Daryl. I find it cute. But i can't write. So thank you so much if ur gonna do it :)
A/N: Hey, Love! Thank you for your request. I didn't have internet when I wrote it and I only read your request once, so it's not exactly how you asked :( but I REALLY hope you like it! Thanks♥
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The first airs of spring enter the house the moment Daryl closes the door of his home.
He had been out of Alexandria for 3 days on the almost last supply run: there was one more on the south and that would be it. Sitting in the living room next to her mom, Marley jumps off the couch the moment her blue eyes meet her daddy's, a smile growing on her little face that her dad returns. She is about to be 5 years old, and is easy for Daryl to pick her up in his arms the second she reaches him. Marley practically presses her entire little body against her daddy's, her arms around his neck in a tight hug. For a moment, they stay like that in silence, letting the warmth of their embrace speak for them first, before telling each other how much they had missed each other.
When Marley finally pulls away a little bit to look at Daryl, he smiles the second she kisses his nose, something he did all the time as Marley grew up.
“I missed ya so much, angel.” Daryl uses one hand to push back an obstinate strand of his daughter's hair which almost always fell towards her face, looking into her eyes. “Did ya miss daddy?”
“I missed you so much, daddy.” Marley nods, pouting in her brave attempt not to cry when two nights ago, a nightmare woke her up and he wasn't there. “You will have to leave again?”
Daryl can see the sadness on his daughter's face as he walks to sit on the couch next to you, leaving on the floor his backpack and the crossbow that he held in one of the straps before sitting his daughter on his lap.
"Jus’ one more time, okay, angel? Then ya, me and Mommy can stay home all day. I'll finally let her teach me how to make those brownies ya love so much."
"But you'll have to wear the apron and everything." You try not to smile too much, but you love the way Marley's face lights up at his words. "You know, so you can get the full experience."
“Fine.” Daryl says with a slight hint of false annoyance, but he leans forward to kiss your cheek in greeting before turning his attention back to Marley. "I found some things for ya, angel. I even found some books without pictures for mommy, too."
“Boring!” She says giggling, but making a face she learned from her daddy.
In response, you wrinkle your nose.
"I gave birth to you but sometimes I don't recognize you as my daughter, baby."
Marley laughs, and it is a sweet and a warm sound that makes Daryl smile as he uses one hand to open his backpack and grab the things he found at a paper store. It is a book with pictures for children, some boxes of colors and sheets of stickers of cartoon animals, some with positive little messages, and when Daryl hands them to her, Marley smiles, her lips curling upward.
“I love them!” She has to tilt her head back a little to look him in the eyes, earning a kiss on the cheek that makes her giggle again. “Thank you, daddy. You are the best!”
She slides off his lap to go to the dining table behind the couch, leaving the two of you for a moment, but when your eyes meet, you chuckle.
“When we met, you swore you didn't love anyone and look at you now: you are a big softie for your daughter.”
Daryl chuckles, too.
“Don’ get jealous, woman. Ya know I love ya too.” His fingers catch your chin in a gentle grip as he leans forward. Daryl presses a kiss on your lips, resting his forehead against yours for a moment. “I missed ya too a lot, Mrs. Dixon. All of ya.”
You let out a soft giggle, loving the fact that you are a Dixon too.
“I missed you too, love.” You pull away slowly. "I'll get the food ready, okay? Marley didn't want to eat dinner until you arrived."
Daryl nods as you get up, getting up as well to walk towards his daughter. Marley is painting, with some colors scattered close to her, and she giggles when he picks her up again, sitting in the chair with her on his legs because Daryl knows she loves when he paints with her. And after a while when they finish the first picture, Marley pulls off a sticker of a yellow fox holding a sign: you did it! and sticks it on his vest at the height of his heart.
Daryl hides his smile, frowning playfully.
“You did it, Daryl Dixon.” She smiles. “You did a very good job.”
“Did he?” You joke the moment you put two plates on the table. “It seems a bit messy to me.”
"What? Ya’re crazy, woman, this is a masterpiece." Daryl looks at you as if you've gone really crazy or don't know how to appreciate art. "We should replace Marley’s drawin’ on the fridge and put mine up."
“No!” Marley frowns too. "Now I don't think you deserve the sticker, daddy."
“Hey!” Daryl covers it with his hand when she tries to take it back. “Ya gave it to me, young lady. S’daddy’s now.”
Marley giggles, forgetting the matter quickly.
When dinner is over, Daryl holds his daughter’s hand as they walk up the stairs towards the second floor to get Marley ready for bed. He does it alone to make up for the days and nights he had lost with her, finally tucking her in before telling her one of those stories about he and Uncle Merle playing when they were kids. Marley grew up loving Uncle Merle, and although she didn't know he was a jerk most of the time, Daryl knew his brother would have loved his niece.
Waking up the next morning, the sunlight in that warm season of the year bathes the place and the white walls, and finding himself alone, Daryl rubs his face with one hand, pushing some strands of his brown and long hair out of his face in the way. But the moment he stretches out his arm, Daryl can feel something sticky against his bare chest: and when he raises his head to look down, he frowns as he sees a lot of stickers around his tattoo. Then, he just chuckles, putting his head back in the pillow.
And when Daryl walks into the kitchen; you're eating a strawberry while making breakfast as he finishes buttoning his shirt up.
“I think I’m gettin’ old, peach.” His voice is deeper in the morning, and you chuckle as he passes you by, kissing you first.
“Why?”
“I used to be a light sleeper ‘fore we had Marley, and now I can't feel when our daughter decides to put stickers on ma body while I'm sleepin’.”
You laugh.
“Where?”
“Around the tattoo on ma chest. Had to check that she didn't put ‘em on ma back too.”
You're smiling, loving the situation too much.
“But you pulled them off, right?”
Daryl clears his throat, watching the kitchen clock.
“I’m gotta get ma stuff from the garage. Told Rick we’re leavin’ ‘fore 10.” He walks the other way, leaving the room towards the garage that is behind the dining room. The hallway the connects the two parts of the house is empty until Marley walks from the other side, hiding her hands behind her back. "Whatcha doin’ in the garage, lil’ mouse?"
Her hair is a little bit messy in the mornings, and Daryl smiles as he watches it.
“Nothin’, daddy.” Marley smiles back, surrounding him without turning her back on him. “Love you!”
The moment she reaches the door, she runs back to her mom, leaving Daryl alone as he walks into the room. He learned to put his stuff on the highest shelves when Marley was a baby, and although you two never left her alone in that place, now she had learned not to go near the tools, but when Daryl finally gets to the place where he had put his crossbow last night, not so high this time, he has to close his eyes for a moment.
He's not upset, just... embarrassed.
Daryl takes the crossbow, putting one of his backpack’s strap around his shoulder before walking back into the living room. The moment he takes a step into the room, he can see Marley sitting on the chair next to the table, but when you look up, you have to cover your mouth with one hand, eyes slightly open in surprise: the crossbow is full of colorful stickers, all over it.
“Marley Rose Dixon, care to explain this?”
His voice is always deep, and even though that is the first time Daryl has used his daughter's full name, she looks back at him, eyes smiling because she is not even the slightest bit afraid of her daddy, no matter how serious he gets.
"Last night you said that when an object has only one color it was okay for me to color it, daddy."
Daryl sighs.
“I meant the pictures on yer book, Marley. Not daddy’s stuff.”
Marley looks confused, and you rub your face with one hand, trying to kill a laugh.
“I can take them off. It will only be a few minutes.”
Daryl scratches his forehead, not ready to face the jokes and laughter that were to come from Rick and Glenn as he comes closer to you.
“S’okay. I’m runnin’ late anyways.” He holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Ya can laugh after I’m gone.”
You nod, closing your mouth when he dares to slap your butt playfully, kneeling next in front of Marley to look into her eyes.
“Ya can put all the stickers ya want on daddy’s chest, but not on his stuff. Okay, ma lil’ angel?” He says softly, smiling when she smiles back. “Good. Now give me a hug.”
Marley wraps her arms around his neck, his free hand hugging her small body.
"Please take care, daddy. I love you."
“Love ya too, baby.”
Daryl kisses her cheek, getting up to leave his home once last time. The sun is warm on the exposed skin from his sleeveless shirt, but the moment he reaches Alexandria gate where one member of his family is waiting next to the passenger door of the truck, Glenn has to cover his mouth in shock, trying really hard not to laugh.
“Shut up.” Daryl says, almost threatening like when they met in Atlanta.
Glenn bites his lips, raising hands in a sign of peace.
“Now I love my little Marley even more.” He says after a few seconds, but hearing his niece’s name, Rick walks around the truck, laughing in surprise, so loudly when he sees Daryl's crossbow in his hand, so much so that he has to put his hands on his knees. “Wait! How is it that Rick can laugh?”
Daryl narrows his eyes at Rick, hating him for a moment. But ignoring the laughter, Daryl opens the passenger door and puts his things on the floor before climbing in, closing it with a little more force than necessary.
“Are ya done? I got a lil’ girl at home, ya dickfaces. Now let’s go ‘fore I shoot an arrow at ya.”
Rick has to put a hand on his chest to calm down, walking around the truck to get inside while Glenn does the same thing on the seat behind them. A man in charge of the gate opens it for the small group, and as the truck moves down the road, Daryl looks outside the window, waiting for the moment when he could return to his girls, no matter what jokes he had to endure first.
@fluffy-dixon
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sweetestcaptainhughes · 1 month ago
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First Last Christmas
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Word Count - 17.3k
Summary - Jack is starting to think this isn't his best idea, and Idris is starting to maybe regret her choice. Maybe agreeing so quickly to spend the holidays with her baby daddy who she broke up with 3 months isn't the best idea.
Warnings - none. just some family drama but who doesn't have family drama during the hoildays.
Author's Note: It is finally complete. Thank you for everyone who reads this AU and has been excited for this to come out. Thank you Allie for being my beta reader for a good 75 percent of this fic even though she's on vacation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻 This is the longest fic I have ever written so be kind. Consider this my Christmas present from me to you even if it's a little past midnight. 😂
Till Forever Falls Apart Masterlist
Roughly 2 weeks before Christmas…
Idris could physically feel her hand shaking as she rode up the elevator to her old condo - now known as only Jack’s and Luke’s - and it wasn’t anxiety that also made her cheeks feel flushed, it was anger. Idris was so angry with Jack that she could feel her jaw starting to hurt from how tight she clenched her teeth. She looked down at her phone to see if he thought to answer any of her messages about Christmas only to see a text from him asking her to text him when she was leaving her place with the kids. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she exited the elevator making the sharp right turn to walk down the hall to knock on her - she still couldn’t bring herself to think of Jack as anything other than Jack, the word ex made her stomach turn and she couldn’t call him her fiance anymore, she could say baby daddy but that only described the relation he had to their children not the impact he had on her, her heart, her life, so he was just - Jack. 
Taking a deep breath she stood in front of apartment 725, trying to make herself calm down even just a little before she faced him, she knocked heavily on the door. Jack answered almost immediately, it’s expected he was expecting her to drop the kids off to him on his day off. But the kids are still over at her little cozy apartment spending time with their Uncle Luke and Uncle Nico, because she needed time to talk to Jack about how he’s been avoiding all of her calls and texts about Christmas. 
“Hey guy-” He didn’t finish his greeting that was meant for his children and his smile dropped as his eyebrows frowned ever so slightly when he realized the kids weren’t with her. Idris isn’t sure if it was a conscious act or not, as he slightly boxed himself into the doorway more as if to not let her into his space. Even if it was a place that she decorated herself with him years ago, before Luke even joined the NHL and lived with them, before they ever even fell into their friends with benefits situation, back when Jack was just her guy best friend who she just so happened to meet due to a one night stand. Back when he was 19 and just got his first apartment and Jill was still stocking his fridge when he was due to come back from long roadies. “Where are the kids?” he sighed as he questioned her, as if he didn't have time for whatever she was planning. ‘Too bad’ Idris thought to herself, ‘Christmas is two weeks away and we have two children who believe in Santa. Time to act like an adult.’ 
“At my place with Luke and Nico. I needed to talk to you and I didn’t want listenin’ ears.” she explained, but she didn’t miss the way that Jack crossed his arms and looked annoyed. 
“So that’s why Luke was up so early this morning. Course he just had to run off to help you.” he snapped bitterly and Idris was finding it hard not to yell at him. ‘This is about the kids. Christmas. Kids. Christmas.’ she kept repeating to herself trying to get herself not to be roped into another useless fight with the man in front of her. 
“Jack, we both know he’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it because he loves his niece and nephew.” Idris tried reasoning with him. “But that’s not why I came here. Can you let me in? I really don’t want to do this in the hall.” Jack flashed an unreadable expression on his face, something unmistakingly softer than earlier, almost looking like the old Jack for a millisecond and then it was gone as quick as it came, as he stepped aside giving Idris room to step into the apartment. 
Idris couldn’t stop herself from word vomiting as she noticed that no decorations were out for Christmas, not even the children’s stockings were hung. “Where is the tree?” she asks as she slips her scarf and gloves, gently placing them in her coat pocket as she places it on the back of the chair, her heeled booties already off by the door looking like they never left beside her children’s and Jack’s array of shoes. 
“Didn’t feel like decorating.” he mumbled as he walked past her and sat down on the coach in the living room. “What do you want, Idris?” he asks as he picks back up his controller, Idris was fully prepared to scream thinking he was going to resume his game but was surprised and maybe even a little grateful when she realized he was just turning it off. 
“Well even if you don’t you “feel like it.” Zander is old enough to notice Jack.” she tries to speak softly, so it doesn’t come off as judgmental as she wants to be. Although her words still have a sharpness to them. “We need to talk about Christmas. You haven’t answered a single of the hundreds of texts I’ve sent trying to plan with you.” Idris adds, as she is reminded of the reason she came over in the first place, ‘the kids. Christmas.’ 
“Well maybe I didn’t feel like decorating this year.” he snaps, it isn’t harsh, kind of like how he snaps at the media when they repeat a question or ask something that isn’t logical, like the time they said ‘Quinn was like a brother to Jack.’ when he is in fact Jack’s older brother. But still, even if it wasn’t harsh, a little over a year ago, he would never even think to give her attitude when she’s just trying to be a good mom to their kids. “Also I liked the message Iddy. I got the toy alright.” he huffs, and it takes everything in Idris not to scream at the man sitting in front of her, manspreading, arms crossed, as if she is wasting his time.
“That’s not the point and you know it. Cool you got a toy off the internet congrats on doing the absolute bare minimum. For god sakes you haven’t even decorated Jack! Christmas is literally 2 weeks away! What the hell! I thought we agreed that the kids' happiness came first! And that includes Christmas. Do you think I wanted to decorate by my fucking self this year! No. Do you think I want to be standing here begging for you to look at me so we can talk about where our children are spending Christmas! No. I much rather be curled in bed with Luna doing nothing but here I am. Here I am! I am trying to co-parent with you! But how can I when you don’t answer any of my texts or calls trying to talk about what we're gonna do!” Idris yells, she doesn’t feel better, she feels like shit, she always does when she’s fighting with Jack, as if he is a vacuum that sucks all the energy out of her. She’s also close to tears, but Idris has always been one of those people that cry when she’s so angry she can barely think coherently. She looks at Jack from across the room and waits, waits for him to care enough to answer her. 
“I’m off for Christmas break, I thought the answer was obvious. I’m taking ‘em home to the lakehouse.” Whether it’s because Jack is speaking softly or the drumming in Idris’ ears is too loud from the anger she feels, she looks at him with disbelief. 
“What?” she breaths out. 
“Imma take ‘em home, Idris. You had them for Thanksgiving. It’s only fair I have them for Christmas.” Jack is standing now as if he’s preparing for a fight with her, but she can’t bring herself to fight, her body is in shock. Jack might have been an asshole and maybe that’s why she left, but he was never cruel and taking her children away from her on Christmas was cruel. 
“I took them to Ann Arbour for the long weekend to spend time with my family. I drove to the lakehouse 2 ½ hours away both ways so they could see their Uncle Quinn, your brother Jack. Then not even 30 hours later, I made the drive again so they could see you and Luke on Sunday. And spend time with you on the day you were free from hockey. Then I drove home alone” her voice cracked, she wished it hadn’t but it did and a dam of tears started streaming down her face like a hurricane banging on a screen door in the summer night. Suddenly Jack’s stomach started to hurt and his socks looked much more interesting than Iddy’s face.  “I drove home alone. Crying because of you! Because your words you had with me about not being there sooner with them! About how I was trying to ruin the holidays. So no.” Idris took a deep breath using her hands to speak as she made air quotes as she spoke “ I didn’t ‘get them for thanksgiving’ I shared them with you, and your family even if you weren’t there. I tried to be fair, and mind you I did it without talking to you because you refused to just like you are now. I know that you hate me for leaving, and I can live with that. But what I can’t live with is battling against me every goddamn fucking day because you’re not adult enough to have a fucking conversation about what’s best the kids. Because you know who you’re hurting when you do that Jack?” she asks him and Jack glances up from his feet feeling like he’s being scolded by his mother, deciding that it was probably a rhetorical question. “You might think it’s me, but it’s our kids. Zander doesn't understand why his mama and daddy live apart now. Zola who adores her father and who still is her favorite person, and she might be little but she isn’t stupid, she can feel the tension when we’re in the same room. If you want to spend your Christmas break at home fine but I am not spending Christmas without my kids.” Idris’ feels a migraine starting to brew with the amount of stress she is having, as she glances at the family room clock and realizes she’s been here for 10 minutes and nothing productive has been done. She runs her hands through her hair, its shorter now since she cut it, shaking it out and pulling at it,  as if pulling on her scalp will lessen the stress.
“So you wanna stay here?” the confusion is clear in his voice, she doesn’t have to look at him to know that. 
“No.” She exhales, looking up making eye-contact with him, his blue eyes boring into hers, it doesn’t matter the history when he looks at her at that all dumbfounded and confused like only she can bring him out of it, it makes her knees go weak. “We’re always home for Christmas. It’s just harder now.” 
“Because you left.” He mumbles to himself. 
“Actually not what I was thinking, more like Zander believes in Santa and all gifts for everyone and the kids have been shipped here. And how are we gonna get all the kids gifts in 2 checked bags, plus their strollers, and diapers and everything else they need for traveling. Let alone the fact we have Apollo and Luna now, and checking them into the animal hotel was fine for Thanksgiving but the kiddos missed them and cried about it all week.” 
The more Idris talks, the more it’s obvious how much thought she has actually put into this, and Jack feels guilty for causing her so much anxiety knowing that if he just wasn’t so stubborn they could have figured this out around Thanksgiving and not waited till 2 weeks before. Plus, if Jack was being honest with himself, he would have procrastinated even longer having this conversation with Iddy if she didn’t just show up on his doorstep and force him to talk. He was still so mad at her for leaving, he knew they were in a bad place, but he didn’t know it was that bad. Idris settles on the couch opposite of Jack and puts her hands on her head, leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees and Jack flinches; she only does that when she’s starting to get a migraine which she only gets because of stress. Stress that Jack caused and that doesn’t sit right with him. 
Jack's mouth slightly twitches, his palms getting slightly sweaty as he squeezes his knees with them and fights internally with himself. If this was even 10 weeks ago, he would walk over to her and hold her and tell her everything was gonna be okay. But that was before, and even though he knew he was only lying to himself to make himself feel better, he hasn’t done that in almost a year, holding her when she got too stressed out. Most of the time he just blamed her for working too much, or putting herself in the position she was in. “Fuck it” he mumbles to himself as he gets up and goes in front of Iddy, sitting on his knees as softly calls her name grabbing her hands as they are in little balls now and he knows she’s using her nails to put pressure on them, sighing when he sees all the little bright red  half moon imprints. “Idz.” he whispers, a nickname only he uses, he hasn’t used it in months but he hopes it helps bring her out of her head and back to him.
 “Idz, I’m sorry,” he speaks softly, and he grins when she finally looks at him. “You’re right I haven’t been good at communicating when it comes to the kids and it is selfish of me. And I knew it was stressing you out and I didn’t care. I’m sorry Idz.” His hand twitched in hers, he wanted to bring her palms up to his lips and softly kiss each mark she inflicted on herself but he didn’t wanna push it. She was letting him hold her hand, after he was a dick for weeks to her, simply for choosing herself. He settled on rubbing small circles with his thumbs into her hands. “Comeon’ Idz let’s look at a calendar ya?” He asks he still won’t speak above a whisper, he doesn’t want to shout anymore, he’s tired and he wants to finish planning so he can go pick up his kids and play with them before he has to drop them back off at Iddys because he has a 6 am morning skate time tomorrow due to being a game day. 
“Why that still doesn’t answer the question of where?” She squeaks out, and his heart hurts that she doesn’t get that they can go to Michigan and be home. 
“Iddy we’ve always gone home and that doesn’t have to change okay? I’ll drive up with all the presents if I have to alright?” 
“What about Apollo and Luna, you know she doesn’t like car rides or the plane but I don’t wanna leave her.” Jack resists the urge to take his thumb and pull at her bottom lip she’s chewing on, he hates when she chews on her lip as cute as it might look, because she never stops until it chewed raw, usually bleeding. 
“We can take Luna to the vet to get medicine to help with the car ride alright? And I can take them in the car. okay?” He’s not really asking if he can take them more if she has any questions about his plan so far. 
“Okay but where in Michigan.” 
“At home Idz.” He doesn’t have to say it, she knows there are only two places he calls home in Michigan, his moms and dads house he spent a few teenage years in, and the lakehouse he owned with Quinn. They have always hosted Christmas at the lakehouse for as long as they’ve owned it. 
“That doesn’t answer where I will stay? I don’t want to be away from the kids when they wake up on Christmas Day. This is the first year Zander is starting to understand the concept of Santa, I don’t wanna miss his face when he sees all the presents under the tree and all the cookies he laid out gone.” 
Jack chuckles, not because of her reasoning but because he can see Zander screaming his head off Christmas morning. It takes everything in him not to let his pet name for her slip, his heart aches, its moments like this he wishes they were still together, but if they were together they wouldn’t be debating where to spend Christmas. “You can stay at the house, Iddy, it’s as much yours as it is mine or Quinn’s. I mean you were there when we picked it out, there when we signed for it, definitely was the one in charge of furnishing it.” 
She made a face as she asked “isn’t that weird?” 
“Who cares if it’s weird? When have we ever been normal?” he chuckles trying to break the tension that was still left in the air. 
“What most people don’t have two kids with a one night stand?” Iddy asks sarcastically and they both laugh, the mood finally lightening up for the first time since she arrived. 
So it was settled Idris would be spending Christmas week at the lakehouse, she would fly in with the kids the Friday before Christmas out of Newark airport where Jack dropped them off. She will first drive to her parents and spend the night hanging out there so they can see their grandchildren they don’t see enough of. Idris and the kiddos will spend the night at her sister's little townhouse, because she didn’t think she would want to drive the 2 ½ hours to the lakehouse that late. If she was by herself she wouldn’t care, but she really tried hard to keep the kids on their routine when they were with her and that included bathed and in bed by 7. The next day they’ll drive up to the lake house where they will spend a few days alone before Jack arrives Monday night with Apollo and Luna with him. Luke and the rest of the family already decided not to arrive until Christmas Eve, Luke even brought his plane ticket already and they will spend Christmas together. It seemed simple enough, what could go wrong? At least they had a plan now. 
After talking everything out, Idris felt much better, they even talked about the kids' gifts and who was getting what, what was Santa’s and what was from them. They both agreed the kids were too little and it was too petty to separate the gifts they gave their children ‘from daddy’ or ‘from mama.’ Everything that wasn’t Santa came from them as a unit, even if they didn’t work together all that well.
“Wait.” she gasps as Jack starts to stand, but if Idris says wait he will, even if his body is in an awkward position half standing, half bent over. Jack can’t help but think that this position probably isn’t good for his shoulder since he’s putting all his weight on it. But he didn’t care, if it earned him brownie points with Idris. She softly pulled him down to the position he was before and he was grateful he didn’t have to feel the tension in his shoulder anymore. “I don’t want to get to the house 3 days before Christmas and have to decorate yet another house for Christmas.” Usually they decorated together the weekend after Thanksgiving. If they were up there, his mom would always come and help Iddy since Jack never had much time in the mist of the season. But at least that way they never had to stress over it when they were only up there for Christmas break for a few days. 
“Why don’t I ask my mom for help?” he asks, normally he would just tell her he was going to ask his mom. But now with the separation, everything felt off on its axis like he needed permission before he offered a solution. She didn’t reject it right away so Jack took it as an invitation to keep going, “she loves decorating for Christmas Idz, I’m sure her and dad can run up and put the tree together and everything before you and the kids get there.” 
“That’s a lot to ask of them.” She’s biting her lip again and Jack bites his as a response, ‘please stop baby, you're gonna make yourself bleed.’ But it’s not his place anymore to say that even if it makes him sick watching her do it and not saying anything. 
Jack sighs, he knows they wouldn’t mind, they would be happy to help. But he also knows the way Iddy grew up wasn’t the way he did, and every favor even if it was a family member came at a price to her. Jack, no matter how hard he tried over the years could never get that out of her head. “You know they would do anything for you.” He says as he looks into her eyes, grateful she’s finally making eye-contact with him. He could have said ‘for the kids’ or ‘for me’ but he knew it held more weight if he said the truth. Decorating was going to ease Iddys to-do list, not his and the kids honestly probably wouldn’t care they are still so little. But it matters to Idris for some reason to make this Christmas perfect, so he was gonna try his damn hardest to help her. She nods a ‘okay’ and Jack smiles, probably for the first time in days except after he scored a goal last night and had a celly on the ice.
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Friday December 20,2024
It should be easy enough, flying with the kids by herself. Idris didn’t think it would be difficult, it’s not the first time either of them have been on a plane. She has flown with both of them with Jack plenty of times, even all the way to Vancouver once to visit Quinn. She even flew without him with the kids over Thanksgiving and that is the busiest time of year to travel. Thankfully, she didn’t have to lug too much around just enough stuff for them for night and a few winter items for the kids that she knew weren't in the lakehouse due to their fast growing bodies. It was fine in the beginning, Zander was in that phase where he loved being a helper, but it made a turn for the worse quickly. Jack had decided that he didn’t want to just drop them at the door, but help her check in, even though she had carried even more by herself less than a month ago. But she didn’t want to bicker when he was trying to be nice. Zander wanted to help so Jack let him ‘push’ one of the suitcases, really Jack was pushing it with his foot, sometimes grabbing it to steer. Zander didn’t seem to notice, focused on the task at hand, pushing the suitcase across the parking garage floor. It was cute how happy her son was at his father’s compliments. “Good job Z. Keep going buddy.” Idris was busy wearing the diaper backpack bag, holding Zola, and the carrier in her other hand that she decided she didn’t need to wear yet. She was pushing her carry-on suitcase with her hand following behind Jack who had both car seats (because all though it isn’t a rule, Idris will be damned if her kids aren’t secure 35,000 feet in the air.) 
At one point Zander got distracted by the sound of a car coming down the ramp, it was a loud high pitch sound, he never did like loud sounds, he jumped he would have hit his hand on the handle of the suitcase if Jack’s hand wasn’t there. “I scared.” Zander mumbled, as he looked up at his dad and decided to hang on to his leg. Idris could tell that he was pulling at Jack, trying to get him to open his legs more so Zander could attempt to hide himself in them. The car skeeted past them and it took everything in Jack not to yell at them for being an asshole and scaring his kid. “Daddy?” Zander whined, and it hurt him. He hated seeing his kids upset even if it was something as simple as getting spooked by a loud sound. He could hear Idris behind him, trying to calm a fussy Zola who also didn’t appreciate the unexpected noise. 
Jack squatted to the ground to be eye-level with his son, gently putting each car seat down, using his knee to keep the giant suitcase from rolling away. Zander didn’t wait to be comforted, he jumped into his arms and Jack embraced him cooing in his ear that it was alright. Idris was suddenly grateful that Jack insisted on dropping them off three hours ahead of time instead of the normal two, because they haven’t even made it out of the parking garage and they’ve been here almost 20 minutes. Zander wanted his mom to carry him once he was calm and as much as she wanted to explain she couldn’t, she didn’t. Instead she handed Zola to Jack and stripped herself of the backpack and her winter coat momentarily to put to strap her carrier on. Then she put back on her winter coat, grabbed Zola and set her inside. Then gently, bending down she put the backpack on and picked Zander up and balanced him on her hip. Jack stared at her, as if this was the hottest thing she had ever done in front of him. He knew no one else probably found it attractive, but watching Idris be a mom always made the pit of his stomach warm, at least he wasn’t sporting a semi in public due to his baby-mama he wasn’t even with he thought to himself. 
“Ready?” she breathes out. Jack knows it’s directed at her, but his throat feels dry with where his mind was going as he was watching her, so he just nods. Picking up both bulky car seats, he tries to push the carry-on suitcase with his leg which he is successful. But he can’t really steer as well as he thought he could. ‘Maybe it was good Zander was helping him’ he thought to himself. “J I got it.” grabbing the suitcase and rolling it on her side, Jack wasn’t sure how she was able to push both suitcases, and hold both kids. 
Somehow it was smooth sailing from there, Jack stayed until Idris was done checking in, bags checked. The bag she was originally going to use as a carry-on she decided to check because she didn’t want to lug another thing around if she didn’t have to. Zander decided he could stand now and wanted to be a helper so Idris let him hold her phone. He was honestly too little to carry a car-seat or wear the diaper bag, and although he has carried Zola before it wasn’t for long distances, they are practically the same size after all. 
Saying goodbye to Jack was weird, not for the kids, they were fine. But this was the first time they have really said a goodbye before one of them takes off in an airplane while they aren’t together. Both of them don’t seem to know what to do with that piece of information, Jack switching the weight back and forth between his feet to help ease his nerves. Iddy with her bottom lip between her teeth, it was finally Zander who broke the awkwardness with his question from below them. “Daddy, why not come?” he asks, he doesn’t seem upset more than anything curious. Jack bends down and explains he has a few more games, and then he promises he will come and he’s even gonna bring Apollo and Luna with him. Zander gasps at the news, a look of excitement in his eyes at the fact the family dog and cat were gonna be there for Christmas. “When?” he asks. 
“4 sleeps buddy.” As he pulls his son in for another hug, kissing the top of his head. Idris stomach twist, in a good way, she knew Jack was always good with kids. But seeing Jack being good with their kids, made something stir in her she hasn’t felt in a while. She takes a deep breath, pushing down whatever feelings were trying to crawl their way up. Jack puts his forehead against Zanders, like he always does before they are going to be separated. “Make sure you listen to Mama okay?”
“Okie daddy.” he stretches and moves away, his attention span has never been long even compared to other two-year olds. Zander holds onto Idris' hand as Jack stands and puts his hand on Zola’s head, leans down and gives her another kiss. 
“Bye-bye Zozo.” he coos. He smiles when she babbles back at him mixed in with “da-da” Finally he steps back and looks at Idris, he wants to step into her space, to hug her, kiss her goodbye even if it’s just on the cheek. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he stands back grasping the back of his neck, he can feel the slight sweat on his skin. “Uhh Iddy. Call me when you land okay." She steps forward and hugs him unprompted and he suddenly doesn’t have any breath in his lungs. He just closes his eyes and wraps an arm around her, the other reaching down to pet Zanders head. Jack could stand there all day despite having a game tonight, hell he could stand there forever if she’d let him. He breathed in finally, enjoying the scent of her shampoo, the smell of baby powder from Zola, he was holding his whole family for the first time in months and he will be damned if he ends it first. 
Jack isn’t sure how long they stood there, time always escapes him when Iddy is in his arms. Finally she looks at him “you’ll be doin’ your pre-game napping when we land.” It takes Jack a second for his brain to catch up, of course leave it to Iddy to go right back to conversation like that wasn’t the first time he had her in his arms in months. 
“Doesn’t matter.” he doesn’t leave room for debate, but he knows she will have something to say so he adds, “you and our kids are about to be on a plane without me, I will be lucky if I can even get my heart to stop pounding so fast, so I could sleep before I know you’re safe Idz.” He doesn’t look away, and neither does she, both trying to read what the other person is thinking. Neither of them giving the other even a slight clue, ‘when did I stop being able to read her every thought’ he thought to himself. 
“Okay.” she nodded at him, putting the car seats on the shitty airport trolly an airline employee offered. Idris was busy,  making sure Zander was holding onto the side of the cart and then she turned and left. Jack stood there to see if she would turn around and wave before she got onto the escalator she didn’t. But at least Jack could be happy that his son did, waving bye to his dad as he yelled something Jack couldn’t hear but knew it was some sort of goodbye. 
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Sunday December 22nd: 
Jack had practice this morning but he didn’t care, just went through the motions. He missed his kids, he missed Iddy, but missing them isn’t new, being away from them due to his hockey schedule isn’t new. He missed most of Zander's firsts - from being a newborn baby to about 8 months old -  due to hockey. Jack knew the all too familiar feeling of missing his family, having fomo was his villain origin story at this point. The only thing that was new was the fact that he was home and they weren’t. It always fucked with him the most the nights where they were with Idris and not him. But at least for the most part they tried to switch off every other night. Jack knows that when he wakes up he’ll see his kids that morning or that afternoon picking them up from daycare. But this, them being home and him being in Jersey, it was torture, it felt like something was nawwing at his skin from the inside, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get the restless feeling out of his head or off his skin. 
The only good news he had was that tomorrow night right after the game he was gone. Jack would leave directly from the rock to the lakehouse if he could tomorrow. But he has to pick up Apollo and Luna from his place first. The little fact that he will be with his kids and Idris under the same roof after tomorrow night is the only thing keeping him from not screaming from the endless restlessness he was feeling. 
“You seem tense.” Nico observes and normally Jack would appreciate his captain and one of his best friends on the team checking on him. But right now he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to skip his shower and get dressed as quick as possible and go home. Jack wanted to pack the car so it was ready for tomorrow, he wanted to get gas so he didn’t have to stop tomorrow night, he wanted to FaceTime Idris and talk to her and his kids. Even though he knew she wasn’t going to talk to him, she would always answer though so he could talk to Zander and Zola. 
“I’m fine.” He mumbles, Jack didn’t even try to hide the little bit of annoyance in his voice. 
“Dude you don’t seem fine. Is everything okay at home?” Nico whispers the last part, he knows Jack doesn’t want people knowing about his life. Even though every single person on the team, coaches, medical staff and hell even the social media team knows Idris and him are living apart. But that doesn’t mean they know all the inner personal details of the day-to-day baby-mama drama. Even Nico doesn’t want their shit aired out for the gossip groups of the Rock. 
“Not in the mood to talk.” Jack mumbles as he throws a pair of sweats on. Jack knows he’s going to regret not showering as soon as he’s home, but at least if he’s home he can take a real shower, maybe if he stands under the hot water long enough - the water hot enough to feel like it’s slightly burning - he’ll be able to think about anything else besides Idris hugging him in the airport and how good it felt to have her in his arms again every time he closes his eyes. 
“Come on man. Keeping that shit in isn’t gonna help you.” Nico is poking, he wants Jack to talk, but Jack doesn’t wanna talk to him. 
He’s still pissed at Nico for babysitting his kids with his brother so Idris could come yell at him about Christmas. Nico also last week took his kids out for hot chocolate when Idris couldn’t pick them up on time from daycare on time due to a meeting running late. Jack can’t be pissed at Idris for not calling him, not trusting him enough to help her out when he was perfectly available. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the butterflies she gave him in his stomach when he wrapped her arms around him. Or the fact that he has been a dick to her since they separated, he made Luke their mediator in everything revolving around Idris for the first two weeks, including pick-up and drop-offs. But he can be pissed at Nico and he will be. Even if Jack knows Nico would never make a move on Idris, he knows they are like siblings, he also knows Idris would never go after one of his teammates even if they are separated. But the idea of Idris choosing another man over him, Jack’s always been the jealous type, ‘territorial like a pitbull’ is what his high school girlfriend called it. 
“I know you miss ‘em Jack, it’s normal you know. I miss my fam-” 
Jack cuts him off, he turns his head to Nico’s cubby and in a second he’s in his face screaming at him. “You don’t know shit Nico. This isn’t me missing my mommy or sister. I miss my kids who are 1000 miles away from me right now! You can’t even keep a girl long enough to have a kid. So you latch onto mine? How could you possibly know what I’m feelin’!” he yells. Luke and Jesper are pulling him away from Nico, Jack doesn’t know what happened, one second he was fine the next he was attacking. Jack really doesn’t know what happened, sure he might have been mad at Nico, but to try to attack him? He has always had a slight anger problem but usually it was just when shit didn’t go his way on the ice. The last couple weeks though he’s been snapping at everyone. 
“Bro chill.” he hears Luke in his ear, he tries to shove him off but Luke doesn’t let him, using his long arms to his advantage wrapping Jack in them as he pulls them to the other side of the locker room towards Luke’s bench. “You can be angry but you can’t take that shit out on anyone but yourself.” Luke mumbles softly, Jack knows if they were home he’d be louder, but Luke represents him too much as his older brother to air out his business out in the locker room. Or maybe it was Idris or the kids that made Luke stay quiet, whatever it was Jack was thanking the heavens as he felt himself calm down. Most of the people in the locker room had left to shower, or at least pretended to not listen and watch Jack’s breakdown in front of them.
Luke was holding him in his arms not letting him move until he forced his body to calm down. It must have taken longer than Jack thought to calm down because next time Jack looked up he noticed all the guys were gone, it was just Luke and himself in the room. He’s not sure where 10 men that are over 6 '0 ft tall and over 200 lbs went in 30 seconds but he’s grateful to be alone with his brother because he’s about to cry and at least Luke won’t think of him as pathetic as he felt for it. Luke lets go of his brother and Jack takes a step forward and then turns around so he’s facing Luke. Jack doesn’t wanna look up and see whatever emotion Luke is displaying on his face; disappointment, anger, sympathy. Although Jack doubts Luke feels any sympathy for Jack, he’s seen most of the shit go down between Idris and himself. Jack wouldn’t feel sympathy if he was in Luke’s shoes. Jack stares at his shoes, his dirty white sneakers he keeps here to wear before games. He must have slipped on the wrong pair of shoes when he was too in his head earlier. “It’s just eh” he tries to start, he clears his throat before he tries again. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my kids unless I was on a roadie.” 
“I know.” he says, Luke’s tone is neutral, but his voice sounds annoyed. Jack knows his brother isn’t annoyed, he really has no emotion behind his words, and that’s how Jack knows he’s getting fed up with his shit. 
“And Apollo all he does is cry at the door waiting for them to come home, and Luna won’t even glance my way like I’ve personally wounded her by taking her back to our place for a few days. It’s one thing to miss them, it’s another thing to have to watch how even our pets miss them.” Jack sniffles, he didn’t want to cry in front of Luke. He’s done a lot of that lately but he can’t help it, he misses them so much his chest physically hurts. 
“You are going to see them tomorrow night Jacky.” Luke tried to reason as he took a step towards his brother. 
“Yeah but by the time I get there, the kids will be asleep and probably Idris too. Plus I’ll have to crawl into a cold bed since Iddy’s stayin’ in the guest room.” he complains.
“Not to sound like a dick but who’s fault is it that you're even separated in the first place? And don’t say Iddy cause she’s the one who had the balls to leave cause maybe you don’t remember but I do live with you Jack. I know you're my big brother and I will always root for you, I will always look up to you in some way. But you can't seriously be mad at anyone else for where you’re standing.” 
Jack didn’t have a response for his little brother, but he’s never felt like a shitter older brother. Big brothers were supposed to set examples, be a role model, they were supposed to give the “get your shit together” talk to their little brothers, not the other way around. Jack is tired of Luke calling him out lately, but he doesn’t say it, he just sighs and glances up finally. Jack thinks he might be even more tired of seeing that expression on Luke’s face. The one where he’s disappointed but also looks like someone who has no shock in their body, like it was expected for Jack to yell and try to fight Nico, as if it was expected for Luke to have pull him off, or even expected for Jack to try to reason his actions with shitty excuses he knew held no weight. 
Jack just wants it to be tomorrow night so at least he can block everything out and just drive, drive until he finally feels at ease for the first time in days because he will be with his family, his kids, his Idz. 
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday, December 23 ~ 2 days till Christmas: 
Idris was tired, she loved her kids, but not talking to another adult since Saturday morning when she left her sister’s was starting to weigh on her. Of course, she’s messaged Jack here and there when he’s asked for updates, texted her sister off and on. But an actual conversation, not since Saturday and she was starting to go a little stir crazy because of it. 
“MAMA.” Zander screamed from the family room, thankfully because of the open floorplan she didn’t have to move from the stove to answer his calls. 
“Yeah Z baby” she calls. “I’m in the kitchen bubs.” she calls out to him. Immediately she hears the pitter patter of his feet hitting the floor as he runs to her. 
“When's daddy comin’?” he asks as he slams his entire body weight into her legs, immediately trying to climb up her legs while he waits for an answer.. Thankfully she is normal for him constantly running into her and climbing her or Jack, it’s like his body constantly has to be in movement. Ellen swears that Jack was the same way, - and although she always wished to have a ‘mini - Jack’ when she was pregnant with Zander, she wishes she was more specific with the universe, she meant looks and not his restless energy and sass - Idris hopes that he starts to calm as he gets older and not more energetic because she doesn't know how she will survive the ‘horrible threes’ if he is even more of a ball of energy. 
“Honey I’m cooking lunch, do you want up?” she asks her son, glancing away from the grilled cheese she’s making for Zander and Zola to share. Zander continues to pull on the side of her hoodie, the bottoms of his feet pushing her calves trying to continue to climb her. 
“Yeah.” he finally huffs, Iddy barely bends down as she scoops her son up and sits him on the counter next to the stove so he can watch as she cooks. 
“It’s hot, Zander. No touching anything or you’ll have to get down." She gently reminds her son, but she’s not sure if he even knows that she is talking to him. Immediately jumping back into why he came to find his mom anyway. 
“When's daddy comin?” Frowning his eyebrows as he has to repeat his question from earlier. 
“Soon baby. Tomorrow. Daddy has one more game he has to play sweetheart.” Iddy says gently, not sure how he will respond, as she removes the pan from the hot burner and turns the stovetop off. 
“I wanna watch,” he says, although ‘watch’ comes out more as ‘wash.’ Iddy can’t help but smile at how he pronounces some words, still learning how to perfect some of his sounds. 
“Okay. It starts in about an hour I think. First lunch, then we can watch Daddy.” Idris starts to silently pray to the powers above that no one slams into Jack today, like they did the last time Idris let Zander watch one of his dads games a few weeks ago. She really doesn’t want Zander to get scared again like last time, he was so scared until he saw Jack and with him driving here tonight, she couldn’t imagine having an anxious Zander until the middle of the night. 
“FaceTime Daddy and ukle ‘uky.” he asks, Idris grins Zander also hasn’t perfected his ‘L’ sound yet. Idris turns to the 2 kid plates behind her that have some fruit on them and cuts the grilled cheese into 4 pieces and gives Zander 2 pieces and Zola’s plate one to start. 
“I’ll have to see if he’s available honey”, as she microwaves the leftover broccoli in the microwave from the night before she planned to add it to the kids lunch to make it a little more balanced. 
Pulling out her phone, as she walks back over to Zander texting Jack to ask if he has time before the game for a FaceTime. Glancing at the clock she knows the players are probably getting dressed for warm-ups right now or even on the ice for warmups already. Iddy helps her son get down from the counter and helps him settle into a chair at the kitchen table with his food. She sits Zola’s plate in front of her, as she drags Zola and her high-chair closer to the table. 
“Daddy first.” Zander demands, and Idris sighs as she is about to tell her son Jack hasn’t answered her yet but she’s saved by her phone ringing. 
Idris answers the phone, setting it up so it’s promoted in front of Zander. The first thing Jack hears as it finally connects is “Zander you still have to eat while talking to daddy.” Jack grins as he sees his son on the screen, head turned slightly no doubt pouting at Iddy. 
“I don’t wan’ broccoli.” he fusses. 
“Zander.” Jack calls his attention, it’s the first time Zander or Idris address that he’s on the phone. Idris is suddenly glad she’s off camera because she’s pretty sure her breath catches at the sight of Jack. He is sitting in his cubby, the phone titled so all you can see is the collar of his jersey and head, his hair damp and messy probably from him running his hands through it too much, his jawline perfectly on display. “Are you listening to Mama?” he asks. 
Zander looks like a deer caught in headlights, pouting slightly at the fact his dad is calling him out on his behavior. “Bb-but mama’s broccoli isn’t as good as yours.” he mumbles, arms crossed, looking down at his lap as he tells his dad why in his 2-year-old logic he is right. Iddy can’t help but roll her eyes because what her son really means is that she doesn’t smother it in butter and cheese. 
“I’m sure Mama made you more than broccoli Z.” he reasons. But Zander doesn’t respond verbally, just shoves a piece of grilled cheese in his mouth. 
“Daddy you comin’ soon?” he asks mouth full and all, shifting in his chair, suddenly on his knees so he can bend closer to the screen. 
“Yeah I’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up.” Jack answers. 
“Daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“You get a goal fa me.” Zander asks, Jack can hear Iddy chuckle close by in the background even if he can’t see her, and it makes his chest warm. 
“I’ll try bubs.” he promises. Jack looks off the camera and bites his lip, probably contemplating how to say bye to his son so quick. “I gotta go Z.” he softly says. 
“You always have to go.” Zander whines and his pout deepens. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say, he’s glad Idris is close by and can take over. “Z, he can’t score you a goal if he doesn’t go warm-up. Coach will be mad, Daddy might get in trouble and not be able to play.” Idris tries explaining, and although it’s a little dramatic Jack wouldn’t probably get benched if he skipped warm-ups he would definitely get chewed out by more than one person. 
“And how is he gonna score you a goal from the bench baby?” she asks their son. 
After another minute or so, Zander says “okie. Bye daddy. Good ‘uck.” he smiles at his dad. ‘Gosh toddlers and their big emotions,’ Jack thought to himself, as he told Zander bye and that he loves him and how he will see him soon. 
Iddy was able to finish feeding both kids and settle into the coach just in time to turn on the game. Zander is two so his attention span isn’t long enough to pay attention to a whole game. But when Jack gets the first goal 5 minutes into the game, Zander can’t help but scream jumping up and down, “Daddy scored! Daddy scored.” Idris shyly pulls out her phone to take a video of her son’s little celly in the family room, and sends it to Jack to see after the game.
It’s even more of a reaction when Jack gets a second goal, with an assist by Luke. Idris was never into hockey before she met Jack, but now her favorite part about watching hockey is watching her son react to it. They watched Jack get ‘star of the game’ and his interview after in the locker room. The one thing that stuck out to Idris about the interview was when he was asked about his celly. The reporter said he looked like he was trying to sign a ‘z’ in the air after both goals and wanted to know if he knew ASL. 
Jack has the biggest smile on his face, as he lightly chuckles, “no, not well. My kid Zander probably knows more than me.” Everyone laughs at that. “His name starts with a ‘z’ and before the game he asked if i could score him a goal so uh… I guess it was my way of saying hi.” Jack is slightly blushing now, he doesn’t talk about his kids often, he doesn’t post them, but everytime he does mention them he has nothing but adoration in his eyes. 
The reporter follows up with, “After the second you signed ‘z’ twice, why the difference, was it on purpose?” 
“Wow you were really watching me eh?” he jokes. “Do I need to file a report for a stalker?.” After a pause he laughs and goes “ I’m messing with you.Yeah it was on purpose, my second born is named Zola, and we call her Zozo a lot. So I guess it was my way of saying hi to her. Although she is under 2, she probably didn’t make the connection, despite also knowing more ASL than I do.” Everyone laughs after that, and Iddy loses focus as she is consumed in her thoughts about what Jack just revealed, 
Zander ends up FaceTiming with Jack one more time as Jack is sitting in the car in his apartment’s garage about to leave. Idris thinks it’s kind of cute watching how Zander can barely hold her phone as he marches around the house updating him on his thoughts of the Rangers game today. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bedtime was surprisingly easy at first, until Zander said he was scared to sleep in his big kid bed by himself. In a way, it can be understandable since they made the switch to a floor bed for him, she can’t remember if he ever actually has slept in it yet. Plus the one at both Jack’s and her place are the exact same, even the same frame, since originally one of them was brought for the lake house. But when they split they ended up using the frame for Idris’ apartment. Then, when she finally remembered they didn’t have one for the house in Michigan and she tried to go back and buy the same frame for a third time - because Zander has a very hard time with transition and change, she knew it was best if everything was the same - they were sold out. 
Then if she takes into account how this weekend went, Friday night they co-slept at her sisters, Saturday was a bad sleep for both Zander and Zola so they spent the whole night with Iddy in bed. Finally last night, Iddy was too tired from the night before. She didn’t care where they slept as long as they slept so she could sleep. 
She bends down so she’s on his level when she speaks to him. “Okay, I understand sleeping in a new place by yourself. It can be scary huh?” phrasing her statement as a question on purpose. Zander mumbles something as a sort of agreement, nodding his head as well. “Okay, well why don’t we lay down together for a little while?” she asks, with the plan of getting up and going to her own bed for the night once he’s asleep. 
As soon, Zola realized her mama was staying in the room and giving snuggles to her brother, she demanded attention. Standing up in her crib, babbling away, Iddy knows it doesn’t mean anything but also knows if she had the words she would be cursing Iddy out. This leads to all three of them cuddling in Zander’s bed. 
Jack arrived around 2 am, and he’s never been more grateful to be at his destination. Even with the medicine they got from the vet, Luna cried almost the entire twelve-hour car ride. Plus, anytime Apollo saw anything remotely interesting he barked, Jack didn’t know a dog could find so many interesting things. The worst part was that Jack couldn’t even drown them out with music, he tried but it only made them louder, around the eighth hour he gave up entirely. 
Jack didn’t want to park in the garage since he knew the sound would probably wake the kids up, which would wake up Idris. The last thing he wanted was a pissed off Idris because he was being “lazy about walking a couple more steps.” Jack shakes off the memory of her saying that last year to him, and steps out of the car stretching after so many hours. 
After letting Apollo use the bathroom, he grabs the cat carrier and the three of them start to make it inside. Jack kind of expected them to run off when they got inside, which they did. The part that kind of took him off guard after using the bathroom, and slowly making his way up the stairs to the kids room to check on them was to find Apollo and Luna already half sleep on the bed with all three of them; Zander, Zola, and Idris. Slowly he made his way out and stopped in the closet bedroom beside his own which happened to be Luke’s and grabbed the comforter. Quietly he made his way inside and laid the blanket on top of them, he was just about to leave when he heard his son, “daddy?” he calls out, and Jack silently curses that he woke up his kid. 
Turning around and getting on his knees again he whispers, “yeah buddy?” 
“Daddy home!” he says in his normal voice, which Jack hushes over. 
“Gotta be quiet Z. Mama and sissy are sleeping.” he whispers. “Plus Apollo and Luna.” glancing down at the end of the bed where Apollo is curled up, Luna not far from him. 
His son gasps in surprise, “ah, it’s like a sleepover.” Zander says, ‘sleepover’ it’s the word they use when they are trying to explain to their barely 2-year-old how cool it is to have a sleepover with ‘just mama’ or ‘just daddy.’ It definitely wasn’t the best explanation, and although Idris and Jack realize that in hindsight there isn’t much anyone can do. 
“Yeah, a big sleepover.” Jack whispers, a slight sad grin on his face as he pets his son’s hair, dipping down to forehead to give him a kiss. “Goodnight. Love you.” Jack goes to get up, but Zander grabs his arm and stops him. 
“Want daddy cuddles,” he whispers. 
“Z, you have mama cuddles right now we can cuddle tomorrow.” he promises. As much as he would love to go to sleep with his family, he doesn’t want Iddy to wake up uncomfortable. A part of him knows that’s pushing the limit too far, too fast, and he doesn’t want her pulling away even more than she already has. Hell, they didn’t even sleep in the same bed the last six months they were together, Jack definitely knows it’s some kind of crossed boundary if he crawls into bed. 
“Daddy. Sleepover too” Zander is doing that thing, what twitter calls “famous Hughes pout” Jack thinks. Jack really meant no, but he also knows if he says no again, Zander will probably stop whispering which will definitely wake Iddy and Zola up then Idris will definitely be mad at him. 
“Okay.” he says, pulling the comforter up and laying next to his son, thankfully they got a full size bed but as Jack lays down he’s thinking they should have gotten a queen. 
“One big sleepover.” Zander mumbles into his neck, content to be between both of his parents. Jack rationalizes his decision by telling himself that it’s the lesser of two evils. If he said ‘no’ Zander was going to wake up the entire house and Iddy would be pissed. But if he crawls into bed, Iddy might be upset that he crossed a boundary even if he was pressured into crossing it. Jack tells himself that either way Iddy will be upset, but dealing with an angry ‘got 8 hours of sleep Iddy is a lot easier to stomach, plus he gets to cuddle with his son, so basically it’s a no brainer to Jack. 
“Yeah bud, one big sleepover.” he mumbles as he drifts off to sleep. 
Tuesday December 24, 2024
Idris is the first one to wake up, she feels that Zola has moved she’s no longer laying down tucked into her side and immediately she’s up ‘mama bear’ fully activated. Thankfully she’s just at the end of the bed playing with Luna, and even if she wasn’t in the bed, the bed is on the ground so she wouldn’t get hurt if she climbed off of it. Realizing her daughter is safe, she takes a deep breath, her heart rate slowly coming back to a normal pace, until she turns her head and sees Jack and Zander curled up together. 
Idris truly doesn’t know what she feels except anger at the fact that Jack just decided to crawl into bed with them last night. But, she also reminds herself that it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to fight with him and ruin Christmas for her kids. Gently she removes the comforter that Jack must have brought in for them and climbs to the end of the bed where Zo is. “Good morning princess.” she coos, “why don’t we let the boys sleep and go make some breakfast? Are you hungry Zozo?” 
All Zola does in response is giggle and clap her hands. Iddy decides that’s good enough and scoops her up as she stands, both Apollo and Luna following them out hoping to get an early breakfast. Idris goes downstairs, lets Apollo out, and makes a morning milk for Zola. Idris goes ahead and puts Zola in the playpen in the family room while she moves around the kitchen feeding both animals, and making her morning cup of coffee. She’s happy she’s at the lakehouse and can indulge on Quinn’s fancy espresso machine. 
As she opens the fridge she hears baby feet stomping down the stairs and hears Zander walk slowly into the kitchen. He has his baby blanket in one hand, his hair an absolute mess as he nudges in Iddy’s leg who is still in front of the open fridge looking for what to make for breakfast. 
Iddy’s hand goes to the mess of curls on top of his head. “Morning Z.” She greets him still not looking at him yet. Zander makes some kind of groaning sound as an answer, never been a morning person just like Jack he needs to ease into his day. 
“I was gonna make breakfast, do you wanna stay in here or go lay down on the coach and watch cartoons with sissy?” she asks him softly, finally looking down at him. 
Zander seems to really think about the offer before he says “cartoons. but first morn’ kisses .” The sleep is still evident in his voice. She scoops him up and carries him to the family room, turning on the TV and putting some random cartoon on. Gently she goes to put Zander down the coach, kissing his cheeks super fast to give him his “morning kisses.”
By the time she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast and feeds both kiddos Zander has decided he’s wide awake and ready to go wake up Jack. Glancing at the clock and seeing it’s barely quarter after 7. “Z, you can’t go wake up Daddy, he came in late last night, he needs to sleep.” 
Before Zander can respond they hear rustling from upstairs, and Zander runs to the bottom of the stairs and even opens the baby gate before Idris can catch him. Thankfully he still likes to crawl up the stairs and he didn’t have to crawl far since Jack met him halfway. 
Jack picks him up and lightly tosses him in the air, Zander squeals in happiness as Jack walks them into the kitchen. 
“I didn’t make you breakfast, I didn’t think you would be awake yet.” Idris says standing at the kitchen island not even looking up from her phone. Idris knew she was being petty but she also couldn’t bring herself to care. Jack last night did what he always does ‘whatever he wants’ with no regard to how other people would feel about his actions. 
He sets Zander down, who immediately runs off to the family room to play with Zola. Jack walks around the counter to meet Idris, facing her he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry about last night.” Jack gently raises his hand from resting on the counter, as if he’s debating if he wants to reach out and touch Idris' arm. 
“We can talk about it later.” 
Jack started to explain himself anyway “It was Zander he-“ 
Idris snaps quietly at him, “That’s real rich Jack, always blaming someone else, even your 2-year-old son. And I said we can talk about it later when the kids aren’t 20 feet away.” 
No one else is set to arrive until around 5 tonight even Jack’s parents, as much as they love their son and adore their grandchildren and Idris. They all decided - more like Luke warned them about how bad it’s been with the bitterness and overall pettiness - it would be best if they came later because they know they are less likely to fight if they don’t have anyone to distract the kids, well they hoped. 
Thankfully both of the kiddos were pretty much on the same nap schedule so they both went down around 10 am. Jack gulped his body suddenly tense as he exited the kids room with Idris. He really wished it was one of those days where he joined the kiddos for naptime just so he didn’t have to go downstairs and fight with Idris. 
Idris grabbed the baby monitor on her way out of the room, slowly making her way down the hall and down the stairs. Jack followed behind like a child who knew he was about to get scolded or a dog with his tail between his legs looking down, nervous about what’s about to come next. He followed her all the way to the kitchen before she turned around and gave him a look as if to say ‘what the fuck Jack?’ 
“Idz, let me explain.” He speaks gently, raising his hands up as if he’s already surrounded by raising the white flag. Jack thinks if he goes on using her nickname, it will soften her, possibly maybe a little. 
It does not go the way Jack was hoping for, “Don’t Hughes.” she grits out of her teeth. ‘Fuck she’s more pissed than I thought’ Jack thinks to himself. “Don’t call me that when I’m pissed at you, it isn’t going to help you.”
“I’m sorry I am. But Zander woke up when I came to check with the kids, and he asked for snuggles. I told him that you were already cuddling with him. But he was insistent, okay? And I hadn’t seen them in a few days plus I knew if I said no he would probably throw a tantrum and he would wake you and Zo up. Okay. So I decided it was the best option. I know you probably think I crossed some kind of line with where we are at. But I’m not sorry for giving into Zander, even if it made you pissed at me.” Jack explains as he watches her expression soften which Jack is grateful for. 
“You did cross a boundary. I only accidentally fell asleep in Zanders bed with them. I was trying to get him to not co-sleep for the first time in days and I ended up falling asleep with them.” Iddy turns her head slightly, and stares off a little looking deep in thought. Jack really wants to step into her space, he wants to gently grab her chin and force her to look at him, he wants to force her to tell him what she’s thinking.Even though he knows it’s technically not his place anymore, he still wants to.  But he doesn't, he just chews the inside of his mouth giving his mind something else to concentrate on. After a minute or so, she turns to him, “let’s unpack the car while the kids are asleep.” 
They work in silence bringing everything in and hiding them in the basement closet they know the kids will never open. They even build the mini stick goal in complete silence, it would impress others watching two people work in that degree of harmony without speaking. Although, Jack thought to himself about how it was only like this because of everything that’s happened. For better or worse, they learned how to work in silence long before Idris left and it wasn’t because they were so comfortable with each other. It was because Jack was so angry that anytime he spoke to Idris they yelled, and Idris stopped trying to beg Jack to try, so they learned how to work together, raise two kids without even speaking for almost 10 months. 
—---------------------------------------------------------
Once the kids wake up from their naps the pair seems to be able to find their voices again as if nothing happened during the kids naps. They spend the rest of the day playing with the kids, letting Zander run the show in how they spent the day. From playing mini sticks, to playing outside on the playset or jumping on the ground level trampoline. 
Around 3 though Idris reminded Zander that they still needed to bake cookies to leave out for Santa tonight. Zander loves baking with his mom, so he was content with not playing outside anymore and instead drinking hot chocolate and baking cookies with his mom. Zola is a little young at 19 months to care about baking, so Jack and her play in the family room. 
The house is filled with giggles from both kids, Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the Christmas lights glowing from the tree and the smell of sugar cookies baking in the oven. While the cookies were baking they decided to throw a Christmas movie on and of course because Zander is Jack’s son he picked ‘Home Alone’ to watch. Jack reminds himself to enjoy this, enjoy that they are snuggled all together on the couch watching his favorite Christmas movie with no tension. While Idris is hoping that the lightness in the air can stay until after tomorrow night but she has a feeling in the back of her mind that it probably won’t. 
—--------------------------------------------------------
“Mama look.” Zander demands, as he displays one of his finished sugar cookie decorated with so many globs of icing and sprinkles, she already knows she’s going to make Jack eat that one tonight. 
“Wow baby. It’s beautiful.” she smiles wide at him.
She sees in the corner of her eye chuckling as Zola sits well more stands in his lap. Zola didn’t seem to understand the concept of decorating the cookie, as she had icing all of her hands and face giggling, she was signing for ‘more.’ 
“No.” Idris says, signing ‘no’ as well, to which Zola starts aggressively signing ‘more.’ Jack can’t help but laugh as Idris signs inresponse ‘no. all done. All done.” Idris doesn’t even speak because she knows she doesn’t have to for Zola to understand what she’s saying. Zola tries to reach for the plate to grab another cookie but Zander beats her. 
“Mama said all done Zola. These are for Santa” in the most serious voice a 2-year-old can have. Jack just laughs at the fact that not only did Zander also cut off his little sister, but how he did it,  even as Zola turns to him, grabbing onto him fussing thinking he will give into her. 
“Not this time Zozo. I know cookies taste good though.” she whispers as he rubs her back, and comforts her, even if he’s still laughing with Idris about Zander cutting her off. 
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------
As everyone arrives the house becomes a loud, energetic place. Zander convinced both his uncles and Grandpa to play mini sticks with him, which Idris didn’t even realize they had that many mini sticks at the lakehouse. Of course, none of them are the mini sticks Zander asked Santa for Christmas. Ever since he learned that his dad was getting a custom mini stick from Bauer Hockey, he asked Santa for his own which would have been easy for Jack to ask for. But no, Zander didn’t like that it said J.Hughes on it, since his nickname wasn’t ‘J’ it was ‘Z.’ So he wanted it to say Z.Hughes. Thankfully, Jack was able to convince them to make two custom mini sticks, and even put them in the black mystery paper for him, if he put it on his instagram story Christmas Day. 
While the boys were all busy playing mini sticks with the kids, Ellen and Idris were in the kitchen. As Idris pours both Ellen and herself a glass of wine, she hears Ellen ask her if she’s okay.
“What?” she asks in a daze, maybe she didn’t hear Ellen right. 
“Are you okay honey? I know I’m Jack’s mom but, you can still talk to me you know. Although, I was never a single mom per say, Jim was gone so much when the boys were little sometimes it felt like I was. I know you have your mom who was a single mom you can go to for advice but I just wanted-.” 
“Ellen.” Iddy cuts her off, gently setting both wine glasses down. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine really.” Ellen gives Idris a look as if she knows that Idris is full of it, but doesn’t push, just nods her head. Before either of them can speak they hear a high pitched cry and Apollo barking loudly from the family room and both of them take off. 
Idris runs into the family room to see Zander holding his arm, fully crying in Jack’s arms. As soon as he sees Idris, he no longer wants Jack, only his mom, a true mama's boy. As Idris kneels down to her son, he slams into her body. “Shh. it’s alright. What happened, love?” she asks her son as he forces himself as close as humanly possible to her his high pitch screaming not lessening. 
“What happened?” Ellen asks the men in the room in that voice you never want to hear from your mother no matter how old you are. 
“He got hit with a puck.” Luke mumbles as he picks up Zola so she doesn’t get too close to the young parents while they try to calm down their son. 
“A foam one right?” Ellen asks. 
“No.” Jim answers. 
“What?” Idris asks the adults around her, refusing to look at Jack. 
“We couldn’t find any foam ones, so we thought we would use an outside hockey puck. I told them to be careful but Zander is so jumpy, I guess when Quinn shot the puck, he moved at the last minute and it hit him.” Jim explains. 
“It was an accident.” Jack mumbles as Zander is finally just sniffling. “Hi lil’ man.” he whispers to his son, who has barely left the comfort of his mothers arms, ever so slightly tilting his head to see his dad. 
“The good news is that it can’t be broken, Quinn didn’t shot it that hard.” Luke comments, and then immediately shut up when he was met with glares from everyone else in the room. 
Quinn bends down to Zander, “hey buddy I’m so sorry.” Jack can tell that Quinn feels like shit for it, but he doesn’t care he hurt his son all he wants to do is punch Quinn in the face a couple times. 
“Iz otay.” Zander whispers and Quinn sadly smiles back at his nephew. After Idris and Jack both looked over Zander’s arm without his long sleeve shirt on in the bathroom, they knew he was just gonna have a nasty bruise but that was about it. 
The Hughes family has this tradition that Idris has just decided to roll with when it comes to Christmas Eve dinner. Idris grew up in a family where they had to dress up and all the aunties, uncles, and grandparents came over. The expectation for you to be on your best behavior in your best Sunday clothes which were also usually the mist itchy clothes. The Hughes were the complete opposite, every year they ordered pizza in and just bumped out on the coaches watching movies. 
So that’s what they did, Zander didn’t leave Idris’ arms and neither did Zola. Both of the babies are perfectly content in their moms arms and no one else's. It was kind of a pain for Idris to help both of the kiddos eat when they were so physically attached to her. But anytime Jack tried to help by peeling one of them off, they whined and batted his hand away. Everyone could tell it hurt Jack’s feelings, his dad slapping his shoulder almost trying to comfort him. 
Sometime during the movie, Zola fell asleep. It was somewhere in the middle of ‘The Elf’ where Buddy is decorating the apartment and eating maple syrup pasta for breakfast that Idris’ phone buzzes. Gently she grabs it out of her pocket and sees that it’s her boss calling her, immediately she gently removes the limbs of her Zander off of her getting up and handing a sleeping Zola to Ellen on her way out the family room. 
“Hello.” she answers the phone, standing in the hallway that leads to the stairs going upstairs. 
“Hey glad I caught you. Remember that client Samson that wanted that painting for his wife for Christmas?” he asks sounding rushed. 
“You mean for her birthday?” Idris asks kindly trying not to come out and tell her boss he’s wrong. 
“Yeah yeah same thing anyway, the artist finally agreed to the price today at 500k.” 
“Wow, that's great, I know Samson will be happy.” 
“Well that’s the problem,” after a pause her boss continues “that’s kind of why I’m calling.” 
“What?” she doesn’t try to hide her anxiety.
“Well Samson has apparently decided that it’s not worth 500k and the artist barely agreed to that price so I need you to convince Samson it’s worth it.” he explains as if it’s just a regular Tuesday morning in the office. 
“On Christmas Eve?” she asks. 
“Yeah. It’s one phone call " Iddy come on.” sounding like it’s not a big deal at all. 
“Okay.” 
“Perfect. But he can’t do it tonight, it’s going to be the day after tomorrow around 2 pm. I’ll tell Sarah, my new secretary, to email them to you.” 
Idris can’t help but joke, “what happened to Kennedy?” she chuckles, knowing it’s an on-going joke that the only woman who can stand working for him is her because he doesn’t hit on her. 
“Didn’t work out. Anyway Merry Christmas. Send the kiddos my love. Jack too.” 
“Haha, very funny William.” sounding as sarcastic as possible as she hangs up the phone. 
Before she can even put her phone back in her hoodie’s pocket, she jumps up at the sound of Jack behind her. “Seriously Idris. You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Jesus Jack you scared me. What are you even talking about?” Idris doesn’t bother hiding the tiredness in her voice, it’s been a long day and it will be an even longer.
 “You left watching a movie with your family on Christmas Eve to gossip with William.” his arms are crossed in that way where it’s not because he’s annoyed, his jaw slightly clenched. 
“Zola is asleep. Zander was half asleep when I left. So yes I stepped out to take a phone call when it’s a movie I have seen no less than a 100 times.” Idris was matching Jack’s annoyed expression not in the mood for whatever she knows he’s about to imply. 
“That’s not the point.” slightly raising his voice, it doesn’t go unnoticed to Idris that someone in the family room turns up the volume of the movie. 
“Then what is Jack?” she asks.
“The fucking point is that it’s always him. It’s like he has this power over you even if your kids aren’t above it!” He’s now screaming and any chance Idris had of not also raising her voice is over. 
“That’s not even close to the truth and you fucking know it! I’m not sure what the fuck you’re trying to imply Jack but it’s wrong!” 
“So you don’t care more about your career than you do us!” he yells at her. 
“No! I don’t. But the same argument could be made for you, Mr.hotshot hockey player!”
“You don’t seem to mind about my hockey player money.” he retorts back, he has that smirk on his face like when someone knows an insult they just spit out sticks. 
“Oh my god! Were not even together and were having the same fucking fight! It’s insane!” she yells storming out of the hall to climb the stairs two at a time, but Jack is apparently not done. 
“So that’s it?” he yells at her as they climb the stairs. 
“Yeah that’s fucking it Jack! You know I’m done, you know I love my job just like you do. You know I love being a mom. But you also know I was hesitant to come here, but I love being a mom so bad I decided to spend my first Christmas single in years with my ex-boyfriend and his family so my kids can have both their parents for Christmas. So don’t tell me I put anything above those babies again asshole.” Idris turns to walk down the hall to the guest room she’s been staying in. 
“Ex-fiance. Not boyfriend.” he can’t help but point out, it’s like a sickness, the way even when she hasn’t been his for almost 3 full months he still needs to stake his claim to her. 
“God of course that’s what you got out of that.” she mumbles as she slams the door behind her. 
Jack makes his way back downstairs, kind of surprised that Zola stayed asleep during that, she’s still snuggled up on his moms chest. Zander has since climbed into Quinn’s lap for cuddles, it doesn’t really surprise anyone he is becoming the favorite uncle whenever he’s around. “Don’t” he mumbles as he falls into the coach where Idris was sitting, Luke next to him. 
“Oh bro. I wasn’t planning on it. That’s what mom and dad are for.” he whispers as a response. 
“Daddy?” Zander asks from Quinn’s lap. 
“Yeah Z.” he asks, trying to hide how angry he is from his son. 
“Where's mama?” 
“She has a headache bubs, so she went to bed early.” 
“Oh” is all he responds with leaning back into his uncles chest. 
“You always have been a shit liar.” Luke mumbles which earns a slap in the back of his head from Jack. 
After a couple minutes, Jack can see that Zander and Quinn are whispering amongst themselves not really watching the ending of the movie. If Jack took an honest survey of the room no one was really watching the movie, as if everyone was on edge waiting for the next shoe to drop. 
Zander slowly shimmies his way off of his uncle's lap and goes to make his exit. “Where are ya headed Z?” Jack asks. 
“To give mama snuggles. Like she does to me when I feel sick.” he tells his dad before he’s off dragging the same baby blanket he left on the coach this morning back upstairs with him. 
“Well I think we're headed to bed as well.” Jim announces. 
“I can put Zola to bed Ma, hand her over” Jack offers but is waved off as she stands and they leave the room. 
After a couple minutes of the brothers sitting in silence Quinn’s the one to break it. “I know you guys are separated, but it must be a new low for your son to comfort Idris when you're the one who made her upset.” 
“Will you shut-up you hurt my kid tonight I outta kill you.” Jack grinds between his teeth.
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Idris hears a knock on her door and decides to ignore it knowing it’s probably Ellen or one of Jack’s brothers coming to check on her. “I’m fine” she groans back, turning away from the door. She can hear it click open and says “Luke I’m really not in the mood.” 
“Mama” she hears Zander say and suddenly she’s sitting fully up starring at her son at the side of the bed. 
“Hi honey. Is your arm feeling better?” she asks. 
“Yeah. Daddy said you your head hurts.” he mumbles softly as if not to speak too loud to hurt your imaginary headache anymore than it already would be and Idris heart melts at the gesture. 
“Yeah, just a little. I’ll be okay.” reaching out to gently push the baby curls out of his eyes, suddenly thinking about the fact he needs a haircut. 
“Want snuggles? Like when I’m hurt you give snuggles” he asks shyly looking up at his mom. 
“Always from you baby. Come ‘ere” As she picks him up and climbs under the covers with him enjoying her son cuddling with her. 
Jack went to check on the kids around 1 am when Idris and he agreed to meet downstairs to play Santa. When he peaked in he only saw Zola in her crib. ‘Z must still be with Idris.’ he thinks to himself. Idris doesn’t come down to help but who can blame her, he was kind of dick to her. So Jack carries up all the gifts by himself and puts them under the tree including the new goal and Zolas new walker toy. He eats all the cookies, even Zanders very very sugary ones and the carrots too, only leaving the stumps. 
Finally as he lays down he hears Zola crying. Sometimes she still needs a diaper changed in the middle of the night. Slowly he gets up and walks across the hall to the nursery to see Zola standing in her crib crying. “Hey Zozo.” he greets her as he flicks the light on and walks across the room. 
Zola did need a diaper changed, but once she did that she was still crying Jack wasn’t sure what was wrong and then signed for ‘mother.’ Idris was coming into the nursery anyway after hearing Zola not calming down. “Mama” she stretches, physically trying to get out of Jack’s arms and into hers. 
It hurt Jack more than he cared to admit, Zola was always a ‘daddy’s girl’ literally from the moment she came out of Idris. There were so many times when she was young that only he could calm her down, she really only ever wanted Idris if she was hungry as a newborn. 
“Hi honey.” she coos and immediately she stops crying. Idris walks over to her crib and grabs a pacifier. Zola glady takes it and leans her head on Idris’ shoulder. Jack stands off to the side feeling like chopped liver. As Idris tries to put her back in her crib she gets fussy again. 
“Okay okay. I get it. It must be scary sleeping alone. I don’t think you’ve ever done that before huh? Zander is already in my bed, wanna sleep with mama and brother tonight?” she asks in a soft voice that one would only use for a baby or small animal. 
Jack feels like shit still standing in the middle of the room, as Idris walks out the room carrying a very content Zola. All he can think about is how that’s the third time today his kids have picked Idris over him, and the second time tonight Zola specifically has. Jack never thought he would be jealous because his kids are giving more attention to Idris but he is, and that’s all he can think about as he attempts to fall asleep. 
—---------------------------------------------------------------------
Wednesday December 25, 2024 - Christmas Day
Idris woke up to Zander shaking her awake, Idris has never seen him so excited in the morning, she grabs her phone and looks at the time 5:45 AM. 
“Santa came! COME ON MA.” He screams physically trying to pull her up. A very big contrast to how be is every other day of the year, but Iddy finds it cute. 
“Zander. Shhh. People are sleeping.” As she helps Zola out of bed, and lets her walk just holding her hand. Idris thinks it’s kind of amazing how kids wobble and then all of a sudden one day they can walk and talk like it’s nothing. 
“Santa came Zo! Come on, move faster.” Zander starts pleading with his little sister to move faster. 
Iddy can see how flustered Zander is becoming at how ‘slow’ Zola is walking down the hall,scared he might try to drag her down the stairs himself soon.  So she suggests “Z honey why don’t you go wake up Daddy and we’ll meet you downstairs.” 
He doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting down the hall screaming for Jack to wake up. Idris can hear a yelp from Jack from the stairs and can only imagine where Zander jumped him awake. 
Idris makes it down the family room, at the exact moment she hears Zander running down the stairs. His yelling must have woken everyone up, because behind Jack are both his brothers and his parents and Apollo bringing up the rear. 
Everyone lets the kids open their gifts all at once from Santa, it’s kind of heartwarming seeing how happy they both are. Apollo has decided to bring the wrapping paper to Jim who’s holding the trash bag. 
“Apollo. Are the kids too messy for you?” Iddy jokes and all he does is use his nose to nudge her leg as he passes her with another ball of wrapping paper in his mouth. 
Quinn laughing asks “did you guys teach him to do that?” 
“No” Jack breathes out in between his own laughing fit. 
Once the kids were done everyone opened their gifts from everyone all at once. Except for the gifts that Zander and Zola (Zander to be honest) picked out for everyone. Zander loved passing out his gifts - some might have been homemade - but Jack’s and Iddy’s were not. He stood in front of his dad practically blocking the view as he opened his gift. Now when Idris took Zander out shopping for his dad, she did not stir him in any sort of direction; she truly gave him free range to pick whatever ‘he’ wanted his dad to have. This is how Jack ended up opening a bag of pretzels and a pink beanie. In his defense, pretzels are Jack’s favorite snack (might also be his, so there might be a conflict of interest but Iddy didn’t say anything). The bright pink beanie was because “daddy only wears boring colors and pink is a fun color.” The beanie also has a tacky flamingo stitched on the front but Jack loves it anyway and puts it on right away. 
Now when Jack took Zander out he did not go with the ‘free range method.’ Now Jack did let Zander  wrap it,  Idris is pretty sure he used at least 2 rolls of tape alone because she had to use scissors to cut out the box. When she opened the box she found a new pair of knee high leather boots to replace her old pair. Nothing was wrong with her old pair but when she had Zola her feet grew in size and never went back down. She loved her knee high boots and was really sad she had to donate them. Even over a year later she hadn’t really found the time to replace that exact pair of other boots she could wear instead. But to see the exact pair, down to the brand and even the little pattern stitched in the heel made her gasp. 
“Do you like them mommy?” Zander asked unsure since she hadn’t spoken immediately. 
“I love them, baby. Thank you.” she whispers and as she hugs Zander she makes eye-contact with Jack who's across the room sitting in a chair with that dumb pink beanie on. She mouths ‘thank you’ to him and he blushes, quickly looking away. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Surprisingly to everyone, the day was turning out to be pretty good. After presents, Idris, Quinn and Ellen made a huge breakfast for everyone. Everybody sat around the dining room table (the kitchen table not comfortable to fit everyone plus the kiddos) and ate. The meal was great, it was like the tension from last night was gone. After breakfast everyone sort of migrated to the family room, lounging around doing nothing, some Christmas movie on in the background no one was really watching. Quinn even made a comment to Luke about how he’s gonna win the fight since it was already 4 pm without Jack and Idris getting into a fight. All Luke said was “I don’t know about that big brother.” as he walked away stealing the last cinnamon roll on Quinn’s plate he had just warmed up as a snack, going to chase after Zander with his new nerf gun.
Idris was in the kitchen, finishing cleaning the dishes she was feeling too lazy to clean right after breakfast. Idris was enjoying the quiet around the loudness that was the Hughes family Christmas. As she was washing the last pan that had the cinnamon rolls in them she heard someone come behind her but didn’t think anything of it until she heard Jack’s voice. 
“Hey” he softly says. 
“Hey yourself.” she answers awkwardly, not really sure what Jack was looking for, maybe he wanted to hear thank you the present Idris thought to herself. Putting the pan in the drying rack and wiping her hands with a dish towel she turns“Thank you by the way for the boots.” 
Jack babbles out a quiet “yeah no problem.” his cheeks were just slightly more pink than they were when he came in. “Uh, can we talk?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck a nervous tic he’s never been able to grow out of. 
“About?” she asks confused about what Jack could possibly be thinking about. 
Somehow her answer must of satisfied Jack because he walks more into the kitchen standing directly in front of Idris leaning against the island, while she’s still in front of the sink. “Look about last night.” 
“What is there to talk about?” Idris doesn’t mean to sound as defensive as she does. But how many times can you have the same fight with someone before there is nothing left to add to the conversation. 
“Uh like about how you disappeared in the middle of the movie to talk to a precious boss who constantly calls you when he knows you are home spending time with the kids.” he might not have meant to scold her but that’s what it sounded like. 
“Oh my god Jack. I can’t believe you are coming in here and instead of apologizing you are just bringing up again how mad that I took one phone call about work. You act as if someone from the devils called you, you wouldn’t have taken it.”
“I wouldn’t.” 
Idris is nothing less than baffled at how Jack is acting right now. “That’s such bullshit and you know it.” Idris starts to walk around the kitchen as if she needed to give herself as much physical space from Jack as possible. 
“It’s not.” he defends himself before he adds, “Did you answer just because it was him?” The way he says ‘him’ Idris immediately knows what’s really bothering him, it’s not that she got up during the movie or even that she took a work call. No, Jack was mad because he was jealous. 
“Oh my god!” she sighs. “I can’t believe this. You’re mad at me because you're jealous.” she accuses Jack, but it comes out more as a statement - as if it was already confirmed as a fact - rather than an assumption. 
“I am not.” he snaps at her, his voice starting to get ever so slightly higher, as he walks around the island to be on the same side as her again. 
“You fucking are Jack! God I can’t believe this! We are literally again having the same fight and we are not even together anymore!” feeling so frustrated that she is starting to yell, running her hands through her hair as if it will ease some of the anger she is feeling inside. 
“God I am not. I’m mad that you prioritize work over our family!” 
“Bullshit. Fucking bullshit and you fucking know it!” she yells, not thinking about who else is in the house, or the fact that Zander and Zola are in the next room. “God that is so rich coming from you! How much of Zander's first 9 months of life did you miss? How much of me being pregant with Zola were you just.. gone Jack? Playing hockey?” 
“I was providing for this family!” he yells, his blue eyes as dark as the deep sea filled with his anger.
“I never said that you weren’t! What I am saying is that you can’t say that you also don’t work a lot of hours and are away a lot from the kids! You can’t sit there and point a finger at me when three are p[ointing back Jack! I’m done having this conversation with you. Whether you're jealous. Not jealous. I don’t care we’re broken up so there is no reason for you to feel some type of way. Or for you to come in here and yell at me.” Idris turns to walk away and leave the kitchen but stops at Jack's words. 
“Are you fucking him?” he asks. Idris is frozen and she is astonished at his accuration of her character.
“What?” she asks as she turns around, truly believing she heard him wrong because her Jack would never ask her such a thing or think that somehow she could be sleeping with her boss. 
“You heard me.” he snapped, stepping closer to her. “Are you dropping your panties anywhere you can for him like you use to for me?” his words spitting venom. 
“Fuck you.” Idris says she walks away just trying to get upstairs as far away from Jack as she possibly can because her watery eyes become full blown tears. 
Jack follows her, apparently not done with fighting with her. Dispute the fact that it feels like his words somehow felt worse than a bullet to the chest. “What no answer Iddy?” he asks. 
Idris was going to ignore him until she heard her son. “STOP.” he yells at Jack jumping in front of him kicking and punching him as hard as he could. “ALL YOU DO IS HURT MAMA. I HATE YOU.”
Idris can’t walk away from her son even if a tiny part of her loves him for it. She comes up behind him, picking him up from under his armpits and carrying him away somewhere. “Zander no. We do not hit people and we do not tell them you hate them.” Idris starts to talk carrying him up the stairs, still an angry ball of limbs yelling. 
“I DO HATE HIM. I DO” 
“We don’t use that word in this house.” they can hear Idris says before they hear a door shut upstairs.
Jack doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything he’s frozen in place. Jack doesn’t even know where Zander learned that word, and it breaks his heart. His own kid, the one thing he loves the most in this world hates him? Jack knew that he preferred Idris over him, which was fine. But to hate him, to want him to leave. Jack was gonna be sick, he felt this deep need to throw up. 
“I-I I need some air.” he chokes out to his family standing around the hall and family room. Jack runs out of room to the back deck, he doesn’t stop moving until he’s leaning over the railing emptying his stomach of everything he ate in the last 12 hours. 
“Here.” Quinn says to Luke, handing him a 100 dollar bill. 
“Keep it. I don’t want it.” Luke mumbles climbing up the stairs, whether to go hide his room or check on Idris and Zander no one is sure. 
“I’ll go check on him.” Quinn says it at the same time Jim says “Imma check on Jack.” But Ellen stops both of them, gently touching both of them on the shoulder. 
“No, I got it. Why don’t you guys finish the movie?” She doesn’t give them any room for debate; they settle back into the coach. 
Ellen slowly opens the sliding glass door now in her boots and winter coat, along with a blanket she must have grabbed on her way out. Jack turns around to the sound of the door, Ellen can see his red rimmed eyes from crying, his blue eyes the lightest of shades it always is when he cries. “I don’t wanna talk.” he mumbles turning back out to look at the lake, he can’t see much because it’s so dark out but he tries anyway. 
“Okay, that’s fine. I'll tell you to listen.” she says in that tone only mothers can use on their sons, as she drapes the blanket over his shoulders. “He doesn’t hate you, you know that right Jacky?” she asks gently. 
“Uff. Could have fooled me.” he mumbles. 
“Jack, he's two. He doesn’t even know how to spell his name, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.” she tries to gently let Jack see the truth. 
“I don’t know Ma, he never wants me anymore. Even when he’s at home with me he’s asking for Idris. I knew he was a mama’s boy and I was okay with that but he hates me. All he seems to do is fight me on every little thing. Honestly I’ve been a shit father, I would probably hate me too if I was him."He still hasn’t looked at his mom, he’s just word vomiting as he leans against the railing of the deck and  stares out to the land and the lake. 
“I’m gonna tell you a secret. It’s a secret every parent figures out at some point and no one tells anyone about parenthood. A child is their meanest self with the person they love the most. He loves you Jack, adores you even. All he does is want to be like you. And you know what you are?” she asks, he turns to her giving her look. “You are the biggest mama’s boy there is. Where do you think he learned how to be one? Or the fact that he wants to play center ‘cause my daddy does.’ The boy loves you. He just is little. And yeah kids bounce back, but you have to remember that you and Iddy being apart is also a very big change for Zander. And that boy doesn't like change. Kind of like someone else I know.” She gives him a pointed look. 
“Who me?” he jokes for the first time since she got out on the deck. 
As they turn to head back inside she says “just think of it this way.. It’s like a right of passage for your kid saying they hate you. Well except usually it’s during the teenage years..” She jokes as Jack wraps his arm around her side giving her a hug. 
“Can I just say one thing?” 
“What?” Ellen asks. 
“This is definitely the worst Christmas.” Jack admits. 
“Yeah well Christmas joy is overrated. Why do you think we did more to celebrate Hanukkah while you were growing up?” Both of them laugh and head inside, Jack does feel better after he talks with his mom. Maybe it is true what they say, you are never too old for a mom talk and a hug.
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