#Seriously this moment of him pressing his tummy made me feel all kinds of funny when I was younger.
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Not to bring P//ain and P//anic up again (sorry not sorry) but I just remembered that while I do love them now, I didn't as a little kid. In fact, I hated them. I mean, that was how you were supposed to feel about bad guys, right? You're not supposed to like them - you're supposed to root against them, so that's what I did.
Yet despite this, little bitty me still couldn't help but wonder what P//ain's ample belly felt like in my hands. Was it anywhere near as warm and soft as I imagined? What about his skin? Was it silky smooth or rough to the touch? Would he have liked it?
#🍞Bread Talks🍞#TXT#GIF#Belly kink#Seriously this moment of him pressing his tummy made me feel all kinds of funny when I was younger.#Poor little Bread had no idea what she was feeling in that moment LOL.#But then again did any of us really have any idea? At least until we were much older?
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I didn’t mean to fall in love with you
Chapter Three.
Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)
Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)
Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)
Rating: Anyone can read it, really
I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...
This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)
Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors
CHAPTERS
The beginning
Chapter one
Chapter two
ONE-SHOTS
Just a dance (Zoey x MC)
——————————————————————
A truce.
That’s what she said she wanted and for a moment, all their fears disappeared.
“I really hate to admit this, but I personally asked for you to be my partner on this project. I'm familiar with your music, and I actually wanted to work with you.”
She also said. Beck didn't know how to feel, really. Poppy Min-Sinclair heard their songs, or, at least, she saw their videos.
And she liked them.
Or not? They never knew with her. She has been acting pretty weird these days. Giving them a “compliment”, smiling at them, asking for Beck to be project partners…
Open up with them.
That was beyond weird.
Beck couldn't stop thinking about what they saw back at the “Alpha-Zeta deluxe cabin” or whatever it’s called. Poppy really looked hurt… sad… like…
Like she has feelings.
“I don’t know, Beck. I don’t think is a good idea letting you guard down.” Zoey said, playing with their hair, both of them resting on the couch, Beck’s head laying on her thighs.
“Yeah, I get it. But…” Beck took a moment, remembering the sadness in her voice, the betrayal in her eyes… Did she really care about Chloe? “I wish you had been there to see it, Zo. It was so real my head exploded… Like... She was really hurt.”
“Babe, I know what you’re trying to say. And I believe you that she was in pain. But you have to remember she's still Poppy. And even if she’s a… uhm… human who feels, it doesn't mean she's not a bitch.”
Beck stood up, sitting properly while scratching their neck.
“Yeah, I know that.” They replied. Zoey had a point they couldn’t forget. From all people, Beck understood what it felt like to be judge by a cover, but as Megamind's Roxanne said once: Checking the content was what matters, and the inside of Poppy´s book was not so good.
The time on the wall clock pointed it was the moment to go, it was Saturday and Poppy and Beck agreed to meet her in front of an Animal Rescue from downtown around noon. He didn't want to be late, after all, Poppy was capable of start the project without them and argue that they didn't show up.
“Anyway, I have to go now. The sooner we end this, the better.” Beck put on their shoes and leather jacket, ready to impress thanks to Zoey fashion sense.
“I want you far~ away from trouble, Beck Hughes. Do you hear me?” The protector side of Zoey appeared and, again, they were confused by it.
Zoey always had that effect on Beck, she could warm their chest, sculpt a smile on their face. Honestly, after all these years in a toxic environment, bullying and harm, having Zoey´s concern on them was something new, something welcomed, something that made them happy. Laugh a little if Beck thought about it closely.
“I can take care of myself.” They said. After all of those fake friends, after all of the pain they went through, it was still hard to trust completely. However… Beck looked at Zoey, the only one who Beck felt relaxed with. Their best friend, the first one to treat them as what they were even after knowing the truth. Beck didn’t miss Farmsville at all. “See ya later, beautiful.”
“I´ll be waiting right here”
~~X~~
They won’t ever admit it, but after they heard Poppy saying that the project was in the Downtown Animal Rescue Beck was excited. Puppies, kitty cats, animals! Beck love them greatly, wholeheartedly. They were their weakness; their adoration was so much so Beck considered seriously taking the vet path almost all their life, if having not found music, their story would´ve been completely different right now. That´s why they couldn’t refrain themselves of stopping at each enclosure to coo over the animals, losing all sense of self-respect over them. Especially after a pup ugly, dummy looking like showed up with the most adorable face they ever seen.
“Oh boy, you’re so ugly I luv ya Tushie-face! Who’s a precious ugly-boy? Uhm? Who’s a precious ugly-boy~” The little pug barked happily, enjoying the attention. “You’re perfect! You’re…”
“… nice to see so many new additions.” Beck heard, stopping them at the moment. Beck was sure it was Poppy, but she sounded… “I guess that means a lot of these little guys are being adopted?” … different. Again.
“Yes, Ms. Min-Sinclair.” A young voice answered, without fear, with respect. A good kind of respect. “We have a ten percent higher adoption rate than last year” Uhh, that sounded good. For some random reason, Beck showed the thumbs up to the ugly pug, flashing him a stupid smile at which the pup moved his tail as if he understand what it meant and agreed.
But then… Poppy laughed.
A real laugh. A nice, non-threatening, actually kind of cute laugh. So honest that they felt terrible attracted to it.
“No… Oh, no, no, no… No. Don't you even think about…”
As if their body was its own person, Beck rounded the corner, wanted so badly to see how a laughter so sincere looked like in Poppy´s face, like some weird kind of siren song they had to see with their own eyes. Instead, Beck saw her talking to one of the shelter’s employees, hugging and stroking a bichon frise puppy´s tummy softly, lovingly. Their heart stopped just a second, running wild immediately after.
“God… she’s so…”
“DON´T!” And they slapped their self. Hard. Beck deserved it. They couldn't… they won’t… They refused to…
The sound where so loud it called the attention of both Poppy and the other guy, while Beck felt the stinging and burning on his now red cheek. Ok, maybe~ they didn't have to do that, actually, the expression on Poppy´s face the moment she saw them, a sour, angry one, was the only thing they needed to feel normal again towards her.
“You're late” Why, hello to you too.
“I´m sorry, it's just that I was playing with Tushie face and…”
“Tushie face?” Beck couldn’t tell if she was amused or making fun of how stupid they were. “That´s how you pet-name?” Poppy added, raising an eyebrow. Beck shrugged.
“If you have a tushie face, then you are a tushie face. Simple as that” Based on Poppy's smirk, they should’ve stay quiet.
“Uhm… Alright, tushie face.” Damn it! “Come with me.” She then gave them a wink, smiling as if they both had now a new secret, before walking toward the back of the kennels.
Fuck.
“So… how do you knew about this place?” Beck asked, very willing to replace the topic to literally anything.
“If you must know, my parents bought me this shelter when I was eight.”
“What?”
“Really? Why?”
“I wanted a dog. Mommy and Daddy didn't want pets in the house… Et, voila”
Beck looked around, the place had now a new light after what they just learned. All this place was Poppy's, just because her parents didn’t approve animals at home. Unintentionally, Beck chuckled, feeling Poppy’s gaze on them almost immediately.
“What’s so funny?” She asked, irritated.
“We’re really very different but the same at once” They said. “Ever since I was a kid, my parents taught me to work with every single farm animal. Cleaning them, feed them, love them… I even helped bring life into this world.” Beck told her, twisting their lips. “I had a lot of different pets back at home. So do you right here. You see?”
“You’re forgetting about the fact the whole point of a place like this isn't for the animals to stay forever…” She said, vulnerable. Beck did actually get that, the hollow feeling that comes after something like that.
“Well… at least they’re not dinner”
Surprisingly, that comment made her chuckle just a little and Beck felt so good to be the one to take away that fragile expression in Poppy’s face. She was definitely more beautiful when she was happy. When she was laughing.
“You are right, that's even worse.”
They both looked at each other for a moment, some complicity in their own way, as if they both shared something, a sentiment that almost nobody felt, both understood each other, at least in one little but significant thing: They both learned very young what it's like to love innocently and truly, to have an unconditional companion, just to lose it to the “greater purpose” again and again. Both learned to never get really attached to anyone.
“But whatever, it gets the humanitarians off our back.” Just as if the conversation never happened, Poppy went back to the factory mode. “Which is why we’re really here. I’m fully aware of your popularity in YouTube, especially after your little performance, so hopefully this project we’re doing will get some good press for us to get the adoption rate it to, at least, 20 percent this year.”
“So this is why you wanted to work with me…” Beck didn't know why, but a little part of themselves felt disappointed… what was them expecting anyway?
Soon they both reach the back of the room, and while Poppy walked in as if it was completely routine, Beck had to stop for a second. A whole crew was already set up, cameras, microphones, lights, everything. A lot of cute pups and cats of all ages were also there looking adorable, sure they were the real stars of all this, but Beck couldn't help but feeling intimidated.
However, it was Poppy’s attitude the one thing that took all Beck’s attention though all the day.
She was kind, professional, caring… making sure of one thing above it all: to have the best commercial of all times for an animal shelter. The way she treated the employees, the animals, people around her… it was like a completely different side of her they never seen before. Poppy even, against all odds, treated Beck as what they were: her project partner. Giving them a fair share of lines, taking care of capturing their best angle, how happy they looked between all those cute little animals. Directing Beck to make sure every detail was perfect, being polite and respectful while doing so.
She was acting as a selfless but powerful leader, and Beck couldn’t take her eyes off of her the whole time. She even managed to convince them to adopt that tushi faced puppy, pointed out that they both had choose each other right at the moment they meet.
“Just look at the way he's watching you!” She said playfully. “You two are really connected.”
“Do you really think so?” Beck asked, playing with the pup. They really wanted to take the little guy home, be able to give him a good life, having another friend in their life. One not farm related at least. Beck felt Poppy coming closer, resting her hand on Beck's shoulder while watching little tushi face with a soft smile.
“I know so. But the real question is: what do you think?”
And now, Beck had a dog named Pepes.
~~X~~
Once they knew every detail was taken care of, and the adoption paperwork were all right, Poppy, Beck and little Pepes walked out the shelter. Personally, they felt drained out, because although they were used to cameras, it was always under their own terms and time, their own edition, their own personal rhythm, but after that day, Beck was seriously considering the idea of being backstage musician, unlike Poppy, who actually looked as fresh as a cucumber.
“Damn, Pops. I have to admit it: you were awesome there.” They said, Pepes barking enthusiastic, agreeing.
“Were you expecting something less?” She said, some mischievous sparkle in her eyes Beck couldn't quite place. “Now, take me to lunch.”
“I'm sorry? Why would I do that?”
“Because…” She started to say, sassiness taking over her. “… I acted, arranged, produce and direct a fully perfect commercial to our project while you just played around with puppies and looked cute. The very least you can do is buy me lunch. I'm starving.”
“Oh, so you think I'm cute?” Beck flirted. It was impossible to let it pass by.
“Like it was a secret” Poppy smirked.
“… What?”
“I’m not blind, Hughes. You are actually very good-looking. It´s not a secret.” Beck was shocked, did they really just heard a compliment from the one Poppy Min-Sinclair that wasn’t commercial related? They looked at her, expecting some irony or double meaning, maybe some hint of a trap, but no… She was being completely sincere. Beck snorted, it was cool they guessed.
“Now, that's a compliment.” Poppy rolled her eyes evidently, pretending to be irked, but that little smile on her lips proved to be the opposite.
“Hello? My lunch?” Beck laughed, how can she be so rude and yet so cute at the same time? Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.
Maybe.
“Whatever you want, bossy-ass”
----
Next
#queen b choices#choices#trans#ftm#poppy x mc#malemc#poppy min sinclair#bea hughes#Beck Hughes#choices stories you play#choices poppy#choices queen b mc#mc x poppy
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Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (10/11)
Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.
Ao3 Link Here!
Alfred was the one to come in and rouse them that morning. They hadn’t managed to get much sleep, instead quite content to just lay holding each other and talking. It was only when they heard Bruce return from patrol, did Tim finally push for them to at least catch a couple of hours rest. When Alfred came in, Stephanie, a little embarrassed at being caught, buried herself under the sheets, whilst Tim kept his head above to speak to the Butler.
“Hi, Alfred.”
“Good morning to you both. Ready for the day?”
“Serious question?”
Alfred smiled. “I’ve brought your breakfasts up, then Ms Andrews is arriving in two hours. I thought it would be best to put the bride in Miss Cassandra’s room. I have had it tidied to a presentable state.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Stephanie hummed from under the sheets.
“You are welcome.” Alfred paused as he left the tray next to Tim on the dresser. If he noticed the scattered clothes from last night laying around the bed, he did not comment. “Best of luck today.” He added, mirth gone for just a moment.
Tim nodded an acknowledgement, and then Alfred left the room.
Tim got up, Stephanie poking her head out from under the sheets to watch as he put on underwear.
“You’re staring.” He joked.
“Can’t I?”
He pulled out a threadbare t-shirt, the kind which was oversized and what he used to wear when he was a teenager, and flung it at her. Still awkwardly trying to preserve her modesty, she wriggled it on like a worm, then got up to join him eating a slice of toast and a small bowl of fruit yoghurt.
She hugged him from behind. Tim was thin and lean, with not much soft skin to grab. That didn’t really matter to her though, because it meant he ended up being something solid to cling to. Always there when she needed him. He reached down and held her forearms and she pressed kiss after kiss to his shoulder.
“Okay?” He said.
“Mm. Let me ask you that.”
She felt his chest heave, and he took her question seriously. “I envy you. How you can just bounce back.”
“We’re not our worst moments. I forget sometimes. But I always remember. Thanks to you and Bruce and Babs…”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You do a lot of the hard work too.”
“Hmm. Do you believe that though?”
“Believe what?”
“That we’re not our worst moments.”
He held her hand which was holding his tummy. “For you? Yes. For Dick? Yes. For me and Bruce…”
“Why?”
“It’s hard… to let go of everything. Really hard. Some days I still open my eyes and I, like, want more than anything for my mom to be the one to wake me up. She didn’t get the chance to very often and now on today of all days… She and my dad should be here. I can’t let that go.”
“Of all days? Tim… this isn’t for real.”
Tim stared at his closet, thinking of the one ring that remained to be gifted to Stephanie. “No.” He said. “But, maybe…”
Whatever Tim was going to say, he didn’t get the chance to as Dick kicked in the door.
“Morning! Ready to –”
Dick paused as he realized Tim was in his underwear and Steph was wearing his t-shirt. Both turned around, looking like deer caught in car headlights. If Tim was expecting Dick to start teasing him again, Dick surprised him, and he just smiled brightly.
“Cass says to hurry up, Steph.”
She let go of Tim. “Right. Okay.” She ducked around Tim to grab some toast and the glass of juice. “See you in a few, then?”
He kissed her, not bothering to hide it anymore, though the kiss was not as firm as he would have liked considering her hands were full, and said his goodbye. She padded away, and Tim would not see her again until she joined him at the Cathedral. When she shut the door behind her, Dick turned back to Tim, eyes bright and curious.
“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed since Bishop Sherborne’s death.” Tim answered before the question could be asked. Dick’s cheeks blew up like a pufferfish.
“What? No, no! How could you not tell me?”
“You would make fun of me!”
“I would never! So, have you…”
Tim burned red and Dick laughed so loudly and exuberantly it reminded Tim of one of Harley Quinn’s hyenas. “Ah! No! I could’ve given you advice!”
“I am not discussing this!”
“No, no,” said Dick, quickly making Tim’s bed and piling up the abandoned clothes in Tim’s laundry basket. As if it were the correct place for clothes that expensive. As he had done the night before, he sat on the bed, though Tim noticed he sat at the very foot, perched as little as possible on the mattress. “Before Damian gets here though... It was good?”
Something about the innocuous nature of the question set Tim off. “It was perfect. And it was with the girl I love more than anything and...”
Dick looked so happy at his brother’s breathless excitement that Tim just smiled back. He sat next to Dick, positively glowing.
“Worth the wait?” Dick asked.
“Yeah.” Tim sighed, and flopped back. “We promised, that no matter what happens after today, we’ll stay together for the aftermath. Bruce can go take a running jump.”
Dick squeezed Tim’s shoulder. “Don’t think you have to worry about Bruce’s approval for you two going forward.”
“Huh?”
Dick jerked his jaw over to the door. “Go have a shower and brush your teeth. Got a wedding to go to.”
Once again, after getting ready, Tim spent an uncomfortably long time fixing his hair. Damian had come in and out repeatedly, his boredom making him fidgety. When Tim had heard that the designer had arrived, he poked his head out the door, curious, but saw nothing particularly of interest about the woman. He didn’t really want to speak to her, for he knew he would have nothing to say.
Thanks very much for doing the job you’re being paid huge amounts of money to do. Or, Hey, you’re not a serial killer, are you? Both seemed a little blasé.
Cassandra also seemed to click something was off about Stephanie, and watched as the girl got ready for a shower.
“You’re walking funny.”
Stephanie dropped the towel in a spasm of panic. As she scrambled to pick it up, her brain conjured an excuse. “Oh my God. Cassandra.” She glared. “My leg is a little sore today. I spent a lot of yesterday on my feet.”
Cassandra would have accepted this, but when Stephanie came out of the shower in a towel, she saw the hickeys along Steph’s shoulders.
“Oh!”
Stephanie frantically put her finger up to her lip, begging Cassandra to be quiet. Cass bit her lip and pressed both hands to her face. She looked like a child at Christmas.
“Tim?” Cass breathlessly asked.
“Yes.” Stephanie hissed.
If she was expecting Cassandra to insist on Stephanie baring her heart and what had happened the past two months, she was surprised when instead Cass zeroed in on another facet. Still pressing her cheeks into a fish puckered look, Cassandra exclaimed,
“I didn’t know he bites!”
“Cassandra! God, can this wait until it’s all over, yeah?”
Cassandra narrowed her eyes but did not push.
“I’m going to get your makeup ready. I found a tutorial which looks good.” She said instead.
When Rebecca arrived, Cassandra did not hide how she wanted to be the one to help Stephanie get dressed, and made Rebecca sit to the side.
Stephanie had done her own makeup and Cass had helped with the hair. She had practiced on Stephanie over and over when given the chance, and as a result Stephanie had her hair braided into a crown, bangs and stray hairs curled to make her look softer. Cassandra had grown up practicing something until it became second nature, and so doing Stephanie’s hair was no different. It was when Stephanie looked to Cassandra, and asked what Cass was doing with her own hair, that they ran into difficulty. Cass had blinked, like the thought had never occurred to her, and Stephanie made her sit, so she could flat iron curl Cass’s raggedy mop, pinning in the white cherry and orange blossoms that Stephanie would also wear. It was the girliest moment the two of them had ever shared, but Stephanie thought Cassandra was enjoying the pampering.
Rebecca did some finishing hand stitches whilst Stephanie spent the longest time doing eyeliner and applying false lashes. She tended not to bother with most of this stuff. Concealer, mascara, out the door. She had escaped teenage acne (she tried not to think about the impact having a baby so young had done to her body), but she had bags under her eyes that on her worst mornings took up most of her eye sockets. Cassandra sat, peering over the woman’s shoulder, all dressed in her golden gown. She was not so subtly also watching Rebecca watch Stephanie, who was trying very hard to remain focused on her face.
Tim, meanwhile, was still fussing with his hair. Damian was lying on the floor, the cats and dogs smothering him in his boredom, whilst Dick annoyingly tapped his fingers on a dresser.
“…Do you want advice?”
“On?”
“Weddings. Since I’ve been to a few more of them than Damian or Bruce here.”
The joke was both a needle at Bruce’s non-presence and Dick’s strange running gag of making it to the altar, and Tim laughed.
“Sure.”
Dick grew frustrated watching Tim mess up his hair, so walked over and pulled his shoulders back.
“Let me do it, Tim.”
Feeling more than a little like a monkey being groomed, Tim let Dick fuss, especially after he saw Damian’s eyes glinting with jealousy that Tim was the centre of attention.
“You’re probably gonna feel like smiling or crying. That’s totally fine. Don’t try to act all stoic. You end up just looking constipated and your tummy will hurt.”
“Right.”
“Nothing is ever perfect. Something is going to go wrong. Don’t freak. Just take a breath, let it go, keep moving forward.”
“Right...”
Tim got the feeling the advice was less to do with weddings and more to do with life in general. Dick finished fixing Tim’s hair, then looked so deeply sad for a moment that Tim didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Just don’t waste your time with her.” Dick concluded.
“…Right.” Tim’s phone buzzed. “Time to go.”
Dick nodded. “Hold on. Damian, there’s a lint roller on the mantelpiece. You’re not going anywhere covered in cat and dog hair.”
Damian grumbled, but did as he was bid. Dick when he was in mother hen mode was a veritable hurricane of bossiness, and it was best indulged.
For the girls, Stephanie watched as the car drove away, being nosy and peaking at Tim in his black suit as they rolled down the gravel lane. She didn’t think anyone saw her through the window.
Alfred came in holding two boxes.
“The veil, which Master Bruce’s great-grandmother wore, and the earrings, which were…”
He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Rebecca watched, eyes flittering between the trio, tugging a little too harshly on her stitches.
“Thank you, Alfred.”
“You are welcome. I must say Mrs van Rijk has arrived with her flock of workers. I have half the mind to stay behind and make sure she behaves.”
Stephanie smiled, lips stretched as she was putting on her lipstick.
“No, you can’t! How else are Cassandra and I to get to the church?”
“Oh, I am sure you would find a way.” If there was one thing Stephanie had learned the past few weeks, it was that Alfred was as much of a control freak as Bruce and Tim, albeit his areas of expertise differed to the vigilantes.
“We’d run if we had to.” Cassandra said, not entirely joking.
Rebecca snipped the last of the thread and sighed, her eyes admiring her own work. “Right. That’s it. Anymore and I’m just fiddling. Let’s get you dressed.”
Stephanie blotted her lips, then did as she was told. Alfred remained present as an extra pair of hands, though Stephanie wasn’t particularly embarrassed of him watching her get dressed. Alfred was Alfred.
He handed her Martha’s earrings and pulled out the veil. They had practiced a few times how and where it would be kept in place, and sure enough, with Alfred doing the job, she soon had the front thrown over her, clouding up her sight.
It was a mid-length veil, as her dress train was already long enough without one extra layer making her look like a moving cloud. Handing Stephanie her bouquet, Cassandra bounced up and down.
“You look beautiful!”
Stephanie smiled genuinely. Rebecca watched with a pinched face, then finally she smiled.
“Okay, I’m off to the Cathedral now. I’ll see you there.”
“Thank you, Rebecca. I can’t say that enough.”
She turned around, staring at Stephanie by the window. She looked like she was about to cry.
“You’re welcome. Definitely one of my more beautiful brides!”
Stephanie looked at her feet hidden under the tulle skirt, looking ever so modest.
The lace of the bodice was a modern pattern which avoided looking like a doily. As Rebecca had promised, she had given Stephanie a high bateau neckline that plummeted in a v-shape down her spine to her lower waist. The sleeves went all the way past her thumb, creating an illusion that her arms were slimmer and longer than reality. Her already small waist had the skirt structured in such a way that it jutted almost horizontally out before cascading down and back. As the train was nearly seven feet long, it was an almighty skirt. With the flowers in her hair, earrings as her only jewellery, and a veil which left her hands free and covered her back, she looked fey and not entirely belonging of this world (or at the very least, Gotham).
“Indeed!” Alfred agreed. “Certainly, in my top three.”
Stephanie laughed as Alfred showed Rebecca the way out, and Cassandra tutted.
“She’s terrified.”
“Rebecca? Of what? Another death or getting caught?”
“Don’t know. And Bruce wouldn’t say.”
“But why? And where is he anyway? He’s supposed to be coming with me to the cathedral. I haven’t seen him all morning.”
Under normal circumstances, Stephanie would have been pacing and gesticulating, but as she was, hair arranged just so, dress so expertly tailored that she felt one dramatic turn would rip a seam, Stephanie remained static, fingers trying very hard to not start ripping off the flower heads of her bouquet.
Unhelpfully, Cassandra shrugged.
Alfred returned, and abruptly shame ran through Stephanie. Alfred sighed very happily at the sight of her, and tugged on his driving gloves.
“I am very much looking forward to this. Haven’t attended a wedding in decades.”
Cassandra left to grab a camera, hoisting up the skirt of her long dress so she could skip down the steps quicker. Alfred held out an arm, Stephanie reached for him, and they made their way out and down the stairs. Cassandra took several shots as they walked. The photos were never going to see the light of day, so Stephanie wasn’t sure for what purpose Cassandra was taking them.
When they reached the car, Cassandra and Alfred helped Stephanie get in, carefully piling the skirt around her so she wasn’t too uncomfortable for the drive over. Cassandra sat next to her with little fuss, her dress more streamlined and form hugging. It was bright yellow, as was decreed by the colour scheme, with a jewelled neckline and long sleeves. It was by far the most feminine Cass had ever been. Stephanie had asked if she was okay with this. If shit hit the fan on the day, if a fight were to ensue, Cassandra would have been hindered by the clothes. Cassandra had simply shrugged. It’s just a dress, she’d said. And fabric can be torn.
Stephanie conceded that Cass had a point. The girl would probably just flat out strip in the Cathedral if it meant she could fight easier. A complete disinterest in societal norms gave her a certain leverage someone like Stephanie or Tim could not as easily reach.
Alfred went to shut the door, but Stephanie reached out for him before he could do so.
“Alfred… Bruce can’t be happy with me wearing his family’s stuff like this. You can’t be happy.”
Alfred knelt with only the slightest of grunts, and took her hand.
“They are Master Bruce’s to give, and he insisted. And I agree. They are not going to get any use from Miss Cassandra, and I do not think that is a controversial statement.”
“It’s not.” Cass said, holding the bouquet and taking Steph’s other hand. Alfred nodded approvingly.
“So, as is the way with these things, it instead goes to the significant others of the male children. Just as Janet Drake’s items have passed to you. This is no different. This is all a means to a good end. Rather extravagant means if you ask me, but, alas, it’s been fun to pretend regardless. And I do not know what will happen five or ten years down the road. Maybe you’ll be gifted them again.”
“Alfred…”
“Mustn’t delay!” He stood up and got in the driver’s seat. “It is acceptable for the bride to be late, but it is not a habit we want to encourage.”
It had yet to start raining, but the air was muggy, and the clouds were dark. A few workers were coming in and out of the manor, setting up for the reception that, if all went to plan, would never be held. One or two people waved at the car, and Steph found herself waving back. One lady was jumping up and down she seemed so excited for Stephanie.
As they drove in, Cassandra asked, “Alfred, is Bruce already at the Cathedral?”
“Possibly,” Alfred answered, smoothly making his way across the island. “He came back very early this morning almost to immediately leave again.
“He told me if he was late, to start without him.” Stephanie said.
“Did he?” Alfred did not sound amused. “Oh, that’s no good. He must have a card up his sleeve.”
Stephanie made a little grunt and watched the streets as they drove through town. Cassandra’s hand was still in hers, and they were holding tightly onto each other.
She could hear the Cathedral bells before she could see the building. Bright, joyous ringing of bells indicative of a celebration. Her throat began to tighten, and Cassandra’s hands fidgeted in response.
“Oh wow!” Cassandra exclaimed. “They did have to put barriers up then?”
“So, it seems.”
“Huh?” Stephanie leaned forward as they slowed down and parked, looking over Cassandra’s shoulder. Behind the makeshift metal fencing, was a not insignificant number of people who looked like they had been waiting all morning for her arrival. When she caught their eyes, they began to cheer and wave.
“Oh.”
Alfred got out, first letting Cassandra out her side. Cass gleefully waved to the spectators, enjoying the positive attention, before making her way around to Stephanie’s door.
“People always like a high society wedding.” Alfred explained. “And we are the first family of Gotham, after all.”
Stephanie took Alfred’s hand and pulled herself out of the car. Cassandra dragged the rest of her skirt out, and Alfred got back in the car to drive it away. He would return quickly, before the ceremony started, and once the car was removed from blocking the view, Stephanie tried not to jump at the borderline hysterical screams that seemed to be coming from across the road.
Cassandra was fiddling, straightening her train and veil but Stephanie didn’t miss her whisper of, “Wave to them! They came to see you.”
Slowly, stiffly, Stephanie rotated at her hips, looking over her shoulder, to see a lot of very happy faces, all waving and smiling and cheering.
Gotham had its name for a reason. The city was oftentimes unendurably grim. People stayed here for one of three reasons: they had no viable option of selling up shop and leaving, they actively profited over the misfortune of its residents, or they tried desperately hard to prove there was something in this city worth staying for. The Wayne family, for all its flaws and scandals, were the highest profile example that the city had of the latter, and it had endeared them to the rest of the city’s residents. No-one with that much money would willingly spend that much time and effort into the city’s improvement, especially for someone like Bruce, who’s childhood had been ruined by the city’s worst inhabitants, unless they truly believed there was something worth salvaging.
It had been one of the things Tim and Bruce had put out in their statement, all those weeks ago. This was supposed to be a celebration for all of Gotham. Stephanie was somebody to project onto, Tim was somebody to admire. Staring at the crowds who were pressed against the fence, Stephanie also suspected that maybe it was also just because people were happy for a young pretty couple getting married.
She smiled and waved back, and the people cheered louder.
Cassandra handed Stephanie the bouquet then moved behind her to ensure the dress behaved. Stephanie did have to lift the skirt a little to get up the steps, but once she reached the top, she was met by the Dean, who was dressed to the gills in formal clothing, and Damian, looking adorable in a sharp suit and gelled hair. Stephanie didn’t miss the way his eyes widened at the sight of her.
The Dean stepped forward as Stephanie gave one last wave to the crowds.
“Welcome back.” He said.
“Thank you.” She said sincerely. “Don’t suppose Bruce is here, is he?”
“He is not with you?”
Stephanie sighed. “No.”
“He was out last night.” Damian improvised, “I have tried calling him but there is no answer.”
“Is he okay?” Cassandra asked.
“Probably.” Damian replied, a little unhelpfully.
“He told me, yesterday, that he might be late.”
The Dean nodded. “I can hold off for a little bit more then. Fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.”
He nodded at the door behind her. “Come in a little more so we can shut the doors. When the music starts, you must start your walk down, regardless of whether he is here. I can’t stop the entire Cathedral, not even for him.”
Stephanie nodded, whilst Damian saw Alfred coming in.
“Pennyworth, you have to keep phoning father. This is ridiculous.”
“Damian it’s alright.” Stephanie said soothingly, trying not to let her own worry seep in.
“It’s very much not alright.”
Cassandra sniggered, then continued to fuss. Alfred simply nodded.
“I will keep trying. I will go inform the groom.”
Dick was leaning on a pulpit, looking up at the stained-glass windows. Tim was next to him, but shoved behind, so he could not see Stephanie. Alfred approached the pair, looking a little frazzled.
“Okay?” Dick asked.
“Master Bruce said he would be late, did he?”
“Apparently. Is he not here with you?”
“No, Master Dick.”
“Great.” Dick tutted, leaning over to see Stephanie at the far end of the aisle. “Wowza.”
“Wow what?” Tim tried to look over Dick’s shoulder, but he received a nudge from Dick’s left knee for his effort.
“No peaking. Not until she makes her way down.” Dick continued to stare. “She looks good though.”
“Of course, she does.” Tim snapped. Dick looked back with a raised eyebrow, and Tim corrected his tone. “Of course, she does.”
“Hmm.” Dick looked back up at the rose window. Tim’s eyeline followed his, but Tim could not see anything that would make his brother glare so intently at the stained glass.
Minutes passed, and Bruce did not arrive. Stephanie, who was feeling more and more sick, gripped the flowers tighter.
The woosh of the doors opening and shutting quickly made Stephanie’s veil billow up and out, and when it settled, she very quietly swore to herself at the sight of four people who had snuck into the cathedral.
Kara pressed her hands to her cheeks, Bart waved, and Conner and Cassie stared.
“Wow.” Conner finally broke the silence.
Cassandra hissed like a cat, stepping forward like an overprotective bodyguard. “No! You four can’t be here!”
“Why not?” Kara complained.
Damian had also taken the defensive. “Because you were not invited! Don’t they teach manners in the mud pits you all grew up in?”
“Woah. Harsh little dude.” Conner dismissed Damian with a wave of his hand. “Listen, we just thought it was super rude to get ghosted the way we were, so as Tim’s rightful best man –”
“Well no, that’s me.”
“Shut up, Bart. As Tim’s closest friends, we just thought we had the right –”
She had never much patience for Conner’s posturing, finding his bravado a cover for how insecure he could be at times deeply frustrating. She liked Connor, she really did, when he was being genuine, so in that moment, when her stress levels were starting to peak, she cut in, asking,
“Can you sense Batman nearby?”
It caught Conner off guard, and he stopped and listened. She imagined if he were a dog his ears would be pricked up. “Urrr. No. Kara?”
“No.” She shook her head, making less of a show about it. “Why? Is he supposed to be?”
Cassandra sighed and grabbed Conner and Cassie’s hands, intending to drag them to a corner of one of the wings. “I will find them a seat. You want in on this? Sit quiet and behave.”
Taken aback, Conner began to argue. Cassie on the other hand, went along willingly, but turned to look at Stephanie.
“Good luck!” She chirped. “You look beautiful Stephanie.”
“Thanks.” Steph choked out. Kara noticed her friend’s growing distress and moved in close.
“We’ll keep quiet. Don’t worry. Think of us as an extra two bodyguards each for you and Tim. We won’t let anything happen to either of you.”
Hearing those words and seeing Bart’s emphatic nodding quietened Stephanie’s frantic heart. She realised that the idea of Bruce not catching the bad guy in time would lead to Tim being injured (or worst of all dying) was making her panic. She tried to make herself trust Bruce. And she tried to make herself trust the Titans. No way would Conner, Cassie or Bart let anything happen to Tim, and Kara would look out for her as much as Dick, Cassandra and Damian would.
Kara smiled as slowly Stephanie relaxed. When Cassandra returned for her and Bart, Kara gave Stephanie a hug, then tugged on Damian’s earlobe, who protested loudly at the physical contact. Bart waved goodbye, and then they were gone. Stephanie wondered if Tim had seen them, but as far as she could see through the fine mesh of the veil, Tim was hiding behind Dick far in the distance.
Cassandra returned once more, and the music started.
“No.” Stephanie whispered.
“You can walk alone. Damian and I are right behind you.”
“No.” Stephanie desperately wanted Bruce next to her, but for all she knew he was in trouble. He wouldn’t just flake on them. Well, Bruce Wayne might have. Batman? No way.
But she didn’t really have any other choice but to start walking.
She took one last unsteady breath, raised her chin, then began to walk down the aisle, Cassandra and Damian behind her.
She saw Tim jump out from behind Dick and take his place halfway down the aisle, where initially Bruce was supposed to hand her over, and she saw how handsome he looked, and she saw how happy he was. She smiled back, incredibly embarrassed, but also – strangely only to herself – very happy.
She didn’t pay attention to her college and high school friends sat with their phones out recording her, she didn’t look at the countless other rich folk she had been forced to make pleasantries with, she didn’t look at Mrs van Rijks endlessly judgemental eye, and she didn’t look at Rebecca Andrews once.
Babs and her dad would be somewhere in the pews, but Leslie was not, as far as she knew. Something had come up very last minute, as was a Doctor’s life, and she could no longer attend.
When she reached Tim, she curtsied a little so he could throw her veil back over her head. He was grinning so widely and did not seem one bit bashful about it.
“You seem happy.” She whispered, taking his arm as they finished the rest of the trek together.
“God knows why.”
She laughed, and they stopped in front of the Dean, who had a very serious expression on.
Stephanie felt Cassandra do last minute fixes, ensuring not a fold or curl was ill placed, took Stephanie’s bouquet from her, then went to sit down. Damian placed the rings on the Dean’s paper on the stand, then went to sit next to his sister. There was a very conspicuous gap between Damian and Alfred, but neither of them tried to think too hard about it. Dick seemed distracted, still looking up at the rose window, though no matter what angle Tim looked at it, he couldn’t see what his brother saw. It had finally started to rain. Some of the saints from the large stained-glass windows looked like they were sobbing as the water dripped down.
The music ended, and the Dean began the service in a booming tone that made Stephanie jump a little. She grabbed Tim’s hand tight and tried to focus on the service. She heard her mother sniff, and when she turned around, she saw Crystal looking very torn up. Stephanie smiled at her mother, trying to be encouraging, and Crystal mouthed back the word beautiful.
“…brings husband and wife together in the delight and tenderness of sexual union…” Stephanie whirled her head back around and tried very hard not to blush. Tim on the other hand, had turned as red as a tomato. “…in which each member of the family, in good times and in bad, may find strength, companionship and comfort, and grow to maturity in love.”
Tim squeezed her fingers, and the embarrassment faded. The Dean continued the opening monologue, and the pair pretended not to take anything too much to heart, Stephanie especially at the little bit about marriage being something “no-one should enter into it lightly or selfishly, but reverently and responsibly”.
Yes. Stephanie thought. Much responsible.
The Dean took a breath, then looked up at the congregation. “I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.” Stephanie and Tim waited for someone to stand up, to yell or jeer, for a gun shot to ring out, but nothing happened, and the moment of silence passed. Shakily, Tim exhaled. The Dean looked to the pair, and over his glasses, asked, “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”
Tim saw out the corner of his eye Stephanie shake her head, and his smile returned. The Dean nodded at the two, and then begun the declarations.
“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, will you take Stephanie Brown to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.”
There was no pause in his reply, and he did not look away from her as he said it. It echoed from the acoustics of the cathedral, and distantly, Stephanie heard applauding from the outside. People had stuck around, despite the worsening weather, to cheer them on.
“Stephanie Brown, will you take Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”
Her voice was quieter, and much more emotional, but no less lacking in conviction, when she replied with, “I will.”
More cheers came from outside, and Stephanie looked down, at her hidden feet.
“Take her right hand now.”
Tim did as he was told. They were already angled towards each other, but they shifted a little more, ensuring that the rest of the family and congregation faded from sight and mind. The Dean adjusted his glasses and peered at his notes. “Repeat after me then. I, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, take thee, Stephanie Brown…”
Tim steeled himself and began to repeat after the Dean.
“I, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, take thee, Stephanie Brown… to be my wife… to have and to hold… from this day forward… for better for worse… for richer for poorer… in sickness and in health… to love and to cherish… till death us do part...”
Stephanie did not look away from him as he made the vow, and he was forever grateful she did not. She was smiling in that beautiful way of hers, where her cheeks grew pink, her eyes were half shut in their arc, and if she were any happier she was going to start laughing, and with her laughter came the snorting. Not the most dignified, but it was more contagious than Joker Venom.
Or at least Tim thought that.
Stephanie took his right hand, then repeated the same vow back to Tim. When he was finally passed her wedding band, he watched her eyes bulge a little at how sparkly hers was, but she didn’t look too displeased as he slid it on, making the final vow of the session,
“…With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you.”
Stephanie had nice hands, like Tim. Long fingers that were well suited to playing the piano she rarely touched anymore. As a matter of fact, had she even looked at the piano in the apartment since she’d moved in?
She did have knuckles that would cause her arthritic issues in forty years’ time, as various injuries had left her with swollen knuckles. However, the worst it meant in that moment was the slight awkward pause as he fought to get the ring past her middle joint. She laughed, a bright giggle, as he screwed up his nose in concentration. He was trying very hard not to hurt her, and she stepped closer, as if it would make it easier for him.
It slid on, after a little bit of elbow grease, and sat comfortably around her left ring finger.
She repeated the same vow, then slid his own ring on.
There. Done.
Married?
Again, the pair waited for some commotion to happen. For Bruce to burst through the doors saying, So sorry I missed the start where are we at? For a bad guy to come crashing down, Batman high above, to bring the ceremony to an abrupt close.
But nothing of the sort happened, and the ceremony continued.
Tim realised that they were nearly at the end of the service. They were probably legally man and wife by this point… At what point were a couple legally married? Was it only valid until after they signed the register? Tim suddenly gawked at the fact he had overlooked this important factor.
It was soon forgotten though, when Stephanie leaned forward for a kiss, which he gave, mind going blank as it tended to do when kissing her. He forgot that his parents probably weren’t watching from on high, he forgot that Bruce was missing in action, he forgot Dick and Cassandra’s teasing smirks, Alfred’s English poker face, and Crystal and Damian’s reluctant happiness. He didn’t hear the church bells start to ring, the applause of the congregation, nor the final proclamation of the Dean.
He forgot about Rebecca Andrews pursed lips and expectant face.
Stephanie broke away first, and Tim slowly, reluctantly, took a step back. That was it right? They were married? Stephanie was his wife? For real?
It seemed Stephanie had a similar realization, and she looked to Tim. To his sinking stomach, it looked like she did not enjoy the thought.
Tim suddenly felt like he was going to burst into tears.
The Dean took their hands and joined them together. His voice giving one last boom, he announced,
“Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.”
A gun shot sounded, and Stephanie, acting on pure instinct, grabbed Tim and tugged him down on top of her. She didn’t know where the shot landed, but wherever it was, it hadn’t hit anybody. There was commotion, as people slowly realized what had just happened.
Abruptly, Dick’s eyes flittered upwards, and very sharply, very loudly, he exclaimed, “Shit.”
The rose window shattered, and two figures came crashing through. One of them was Batman, and he very gracefully landed on the font, balanced perfectly.
Glass rained down, Tim instinctively pressing down on Steph to protect her face from any shards.
Batman stood up, cape falling over the font, looking positively demonic in the Cathedral.
God, he really had wanted a spectacle, hadn’t he?
The other figure was a man all in black and he hit the floor hard. It took a moment, but everyone soon registered the number of guns he had attached to his person. He grunted, the shock of the impact too much for a moment, then he went limp, unconscious.
Instantly there was chaos, and the congregation erupted in shrieks and yells and shouts. People got to their feet and tried to flee. It took a moment, but Stephanie was still on the floor, Tim pressed on top of her, and she craned her neck, looking for Rebecca. There was another woosh of air, and suddenly her and Tim were surrounded by their family and the Titans. Dick moved away, towards the shooter, as Batman apprehended the man. Commissioner Gordon, quick to shift from happy family friend to police commissioner, also quickly joined the pair.
“We need the designer!” Batman emphasized to them.
“You both okay?” Conner asked, tugging Tim upwards. Tim looked a little winded, but was otherwise absolutely fine. Connor was having to yell over the commotion, and Stephanie, still on the floor, caught sight of Rebecca.
She was trying to leave the cathedral.
“No!” She cried out, jumping up.
“Steph!” Steph vaguely recognized the voice as Babs, but she was already gone, up and into the crowd.
She couldn’t run, even with the crowds that refused to part ways for her, as her dress was just too heavy and long to run effectively in, but that did not stop her from trying.
She apologized the entire time, shoving her way past people and allowing her train to be ripped to shreds as people stood on it. Rebecca had noticed her chasing after her, and had begun to try to escape faster.
Stephanie was the more experienced runner, so as soon as Rebecca managed to leave the Cathedral, Stephanie was immediately on her, throwing her down the stone steps and holding her tight. The rain was coming down as hard as ever, soiling her dress with the grime of Gotham. Her veil had come off when she ran, leaving her back prickling at the cold raindrops hitting her bare skin. The people who had so kindly been waiting for her and Tim to emerge for cheering were utterly baffled at the sight of the bride seemingly throwing a woman down the stairs.
The rain was so heavy that Stephanie felt herself becoming blind, knowing her makeup must have been running something terrible.
She became completely overwrought with emotion, and yelled out,
“Why were you killing all those brides and their husbands? Why did you kill Bishop Sherborne?”
She was screaming as if Rebecca had personally taken each shot, which was untrue, but Stephanie was surprised at how much the truth hurt. She’d still, in her gut, hoped this woman was innocent. Stephanie still didn’t even fully understand what involvement Rebecca had, but she was acting as if Rebecca had personally shot Tim.
People were pouring out of the Cathedral now, including Bart and Kara, who had managed with little trouble pushing to the front. They saw there was nothing to be done, and only watched.
Rebecca was in tears, shaking her head. “It isn’t me! It’s him! I swear, I’m a victim as much as you are! I didn’t have a choice! My career…”
Something about being called a victim set Stephanie off and she began to yell, “No! I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt, but seven people are dead! You had a choice!”
Commissioner Gordon came outside, ready to arrest Rebecca. Stephanie stood up and backed away, emotions running too high for her to think clearly, and turned to Bart and Kara. The rest of the family soon followed. Tim was soon enough pushing to the front and she instantly was in his arms. It was a ridiculous spectacle, they both knew, but they had done their job. Crystal quickly found her daughter, white faced and more than a little frantic, and needed more attending to then the couple who were shot at.
They would have to stay behind, offer an excuse of how they knew Rebecca was suspected of being complicit in murder (Batman had contacted Bruce after the engagement announcement, convenient as the man funded him after all, who had then asked if Tim and Steph were willing for their engagement to be put at risk the way it was, to which they had said yes, wanting to help). They were also informed of where Bruce was – officially (crashed his car on the way over and had gone straight to Leslie’s. Thank goodness it was nothing serious. Dick had gotten a look in his eye showing that he was already thinking of how to wreck another one of Bruce’s old cars) and they were told that, despite not getting to sign the register, the two were still – for all intents and purposes according the Church – married. Signing the register was just the civil, legal notice confirming it so.
Tim had seen the sick look on Stephanie’s face, and had gone with the “can we get back to you once we’ve calmed down” excuse.
The Dean, quite ready to be rid of the Wayne’s for another thirty years, agreed.
Left standing in the rain, knowing that this was going to be an absolute disaster come the following morning, and surrounded by frightened and confused wedding attendees, Tim went to bury himself in a hug with Stephanie. She granted it immediately and held on tight, her makeup completely ruining his perfect black suit.
“I’m not leaving.” She whispered, for his ears alone, and Tim’s heartbeat grew steady once more.
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A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 6
Today’s musical program will be varied once more. So much music will be going on! I do not know how many of you are participating in the musical adventure, and which service you are using, YouTube or Spotify. Since several of the pieces I wish to use are only available on YouTube, I will use that platform exclusively this chapter. If anyone has an objection, please let me know...but there is only one chapter following this one, Symphony ticket holders, and then the coda...Like the previous chapter, I will insert the selection at the appropriate scene, and you can simply loop it until the next piece is indicated. I hope you enjoy today’s musical arrangement.
Trigger warning: Leukemia
First selection: https://youtu.be/UfWT_7dTAtI
*** *** *** ***
Kelly did not hesitate to begin. Merry was hooked up to a machine within hours to begin having her blood drawn, her T cells filtered out, and have the remaining blood returned. The process did not take long, simply a few hours. Once completed, Kelly leaned against Merry’s bed and cocked her head to the side.
“Well now darlin’, before we infuse you with the new an’ improved T cells, we’re gonna hit you with another blast of chemo, to clean out as much garbage out of your veins as we can.”
Merry did not look happy at the thought of another round of chemo, but she didn’t argue, just nodded her head as she stared out the window. Kelly leaned towards and took her hand.
“Honey, you’re gonna have to be here for a couple of weeks. I know it’s gonna be rough, and no one can get in your skin and take it for you, but I am going to work overtime to make it as easy as I can...and you have people who love you and will support you as much as you will let them. The question is, are you going to let them? I seem to have heard you giving Aiden a lot of push back in the past.”
“Aiden had Liam. Liam was all that mattered,” Merry replied, a touch of defiance in her voice.
“Maybe so, but now Tom has Merry, so now Merry is all that matters,” Tom responded, his voice gentle, but with the same touch of firmness he used with Liam. Merry’s eyes shot towards him, her expression challenging.
Tom leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. “Hello, Missouri Mule. Meet Tom Hiddleston, bane of Luke Windsor’s patience and scourge of his peace of mind.”
Merry smiled. She couldn’t resist.
Liam was unhappy to hear Mama was going to be in the hospital for almost a month at least, probably longer. He knew she would try to video call him frequently, but he also knew there would be a lot of days she would be so sick and sleepy she would barely be able to speak with him. When he stopped to think about this, his tummy felt funny, it hurt a lot and he felt like he might throw up and cry all at the same time. Both Mama and Aiden were always telling him to talk about how he felt, but it didn’t make the feelings go away.
When Papa came home without Mama, he looked tired, sad, and worried. Supper was quiet, and everyone went to bed early. Aiden read him his story, but his voices weren’t as fun as they usually were. Liam understood.
“Hey, kiddo.” Liam looked up into Aiden’s eyes. He had been looking down at his two bears, one Mama had given him, and one Papa had. “Your Mama has done this a lot, she’s a virtuosa, you could say. You shouldn’t worry about her. She’s more worried about you, did you know that?”
Liam squinted up at Aiden. “Why’s Mama worryin’ about me? You’re taking care of me like you always do, and we’re gonna do the same things we always do. We’re going to be ok...but I’m gonna miss Mama...” and his bottom lip started to tremble as his voice wobbled.
Aiden gathered him into a hug. “And it’s that, right there, that has your Mama worrying. She loves you so much, she hates to think of you being sad. She wants you to be happy, always.”
Liam pulled away, his usually cheerful countenance marred with a scowl. “Can’t be happy without Mama here, how can I be happy when Mama’s stuck in that ol’ hospital and she can’t be home with us? Stupid medicine! Stupid leuk...leuk...I hate Mama being sick all the time, I want her to get better!”
Liam burst into tears borne of grief, anger, frustration, and fear.
Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted Liam to cry it out. So much had happened, and Liam was just a little boy...he heard Tom’s door opening with a crash, and his feet, oh dear...
If Merry was a virtuosa in this wretched treatment, Tom had barely had his first few lessons.
As soon as Tom came in the door, Aiden made a calming gesture with his hand. “Softly, softly,” he mouthed, as he continued to gently soothe Liam’s impassioned sobbing.
Tom had been lying in bed, his arm flung over his eyes, remembering his conversation with Merry before he left:
“Tom, it’s going to be hard, in fact I will go so far as to say it’s going to suck. But I’ve played this concerto before, I daresay I’ve even conducted this orchestra before. I’ve got this. I have my bag of tricks, I know how to get around the worst of it. Please, please, be there for Liam. Knowing he’s well and happy will do so much for me...”
He reached out and stroked her face. “Merry, do you mean to forbid me to see you? Are you planning on going through this alone? Tell me, sweetheart, who was with you all the other times? It wasn’t Aiden, it couldn’t have been. It wasn’t your family. No one has mentioned any other friends. Did you go through chemotherapy alone, each and every time...? Merry...”
She looked at him, smiled and shrugged. “Alone, not alone...there were always nurses, and I could always close my eyes, and escape into my head, I have my headphones, my music, my imagination...come, Tom, you know how easily I can slip into my head, and how difficult it is for me to get out of it sometimes! I would practice, even if I didn’t have an instrument, I could conduct, even if I was completely alone, I could compose, even if I never remembered note from note.”
“Not this time, Meredith,” he vowed. “I will be there for Liam, but I will be there for you as well. I will talk with Aiden, and see what he advises, so you can’t fret, Mama Bear.”
She was already falling asleep, but she grinned. “We’ll see, Papa Bear, we’ll see...”
When Tom heard Liam’s crying, it was if he had been jolted with a live current. He’d never heard Liam cry before, and the boy sounded heartbroken. Tom launched from his bed, completely forgetting Aiden was two steps away, and had been with Liam since the little boy drew his first breath. His son was crying. This being a father thing was so new, he scarcely knew what he was doing moment to moment, but right now, he knew his son was crying.
Seeing Liam caught in Aiden’s arms, he froze. Tom felt superfluous, and shattered. His heart was aching so profoundly, there was a part of him that wanted to weep as openly as Liam. Aiden was advising him to calm down, and he wasn’t sure if he could.
Aiden beckoned him to sit besides him, and that is how Liam found himself transferred into another pair of arms, as he hiccuped and trembled as a child does in the aftermath of hard sobbing. Aiden was still rubbing his back, but Liam looked up and saw his Papa was now holding him close. This was new. The crying when Mama left for the hospital, that happened, but Papa being here...
“’m glad you’re here,” Liam mumbled, scrubbing his eyes with his fists.
“I’m glad I’m here, as well,” Papa answered, and kissed Liam’s hair, which was definitely curly now. Mama would have gotten him a haircut by this point.
“Papa, did you know Mama was sick?”
“No, Liam. I didn’t. It makes me so sad, knowing she was sick and I wasn’t there to help her.”
Liam looked up into Papa’s face and saw that yes, Papa’s face still looked just as sad, tired, and worried as it did when he came back earlier, maybe even more so. He reached up and touched it, shyly. Papa looked down into Liam’s eyes, and gave him a special smile...Liam was reminded of the way Mama would smile at him sometimes. It made him start to feel a little better.
“You know, Papa...we have a secret, Aiden and I. Mama doesn’t know about it.”
“Oh, is that so?” Papa looked at Aiden, his lips twitching. “And what could this secret be? If it is about licking the bowl after you make cakes...”
“You told?” Aiden teased Liam, ticking his feet lightly.
“No, just Papa...but Mama was there, uh-oh...”
“It’s fine, Liam,” Papa laughed, his voice low and warm. “If that isn’t the secret, then what could it be?”
“Aiden, can we tell Papa?”
“Oh, I think we must,” Aiden answered him seriously. “Because your Papa is going be a part of it, as well...”
Papa leaned back against Liam’s headboard to give Liam his undivided attention as Liam explained. “When Mama is away at the hospital like she is sometimes, and we miss her a lot, we watch The Secret Mama Movie.”
“The Secret Mama Movie? Your Mama never told me she was a movie star, although it’s true I did meet her...” Tom stopped himself abruptly, and cursed himself as ten different kinds of a fool. Clumsy, stupid, foolish...he had no idea if Merry had ever told Liam how they had first met, or what Tom did for a living, or anything, and Liam was far too bright to miss a thing...
Liam, true to form, lit up like a Christmas tree. “You met Mama because she was a movie star?!”
“No, no...” Tom looked to Aiden for help, but as usual, Aiden had his arms folded, and was grinning at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Um, I met your mother because of a movie...but please, tell me more about The Secret Mama Movie, I am very interested.”
“Oh...” Liam looked disappointed. “That would have been neat, if Mama had been in a movie for real.” Tom shifted uneasily on the bed, while keeping Liam tucked in his arms, pressed against his chest as he did so. Liam pulled away, tears forgotten so he could look into his father’s face. “Aiden’s known Mama for a real long time, and they went to school together, and he used to see her when she would practice to have recitals...did you ever see any of Mama’s recitals?”
Tom looked at Liam, and gently cupped his son’s face. “Only one,” he whispered softly. “Only one...”
Liam didn’t understand why Papa was looking at him so tenderly, he just babbled on, “Well, he used to record her. She knew he was doing it, so that isn’t the secret. Sometimes she was even talking to him while he was doing it. Then after I was born, he would record her while she was playing lullabies for me! And then, sometimes she would learn pieces because she was tired of the pieces she had to learn for school, and she would learn them just for funsies, and he thought she was so good, he would record those too...he thought she was really good, and she didn’t, and he wanted her to see just how good she was...and then she had a big big recital right before she graduated, and the school recorded that...”
Aiden interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise you, Tom, Merry know about these, I’m no stalker,” he spoke quickly, his face uncomfortably red. “That’s not the secret, either!”
Liam rolled his eyes as expressively as a four year old can. “Nooo, the secret is that Liam got all of these together from all the different places and put it together into one big movie. The Secret Mama Movie. She doesn’t know he did it. But we can watch it and see her and listen to her, every night she isn’t here. It isn’t the same, but...”
Tom looked at Liam, at Aiden, and at Liam again. He spoke very, very quietly. “You get to see Mama play, every night?”
“Uh huh! And she had hair sometimes, and she was wasn’t always tired, and she was laughing, and sometimes she even sings!” Liam was both reverent and thrilled to be letting Papa in on this secret. “But we can’t let Mama know. She doesn’t like to see or hear herself on TV.”
“I can understand that,” Tom muttered, laughing to himself.
“E’scuse me?” Liam cocked his head to the side. Mama was very strict about his not saying just “what,” when he didn’t understand.
“I was trying to say that I can understand, even though your mother is so talented, she would not strike me as one to wish to see herself on the television.”
“But why not, Papa?”
“I imagine it is because she would only look at her performance and see the ways she could have improved, rather than all the ways she excelled...because she always wishes to learn more. Your mother is brilliant, and she loves music, loves playing her instruments, and being the moment. Seeing it captured, though...well, that’s something else,” Tom stopped, recognizing he was getting too philosophical, no matter how intelligent his son was, he was still only four. He wanted to get lost in a memory of himself and Merry, it was at the forefront of his mind, but this was not the time...he shook his head.
“We can watch it tomorrow, Papa,” Liam promised him, snuggling into his chest again. “That way we can all enjoy it together. Just us men.”
Tom closed his eyes and grinned broadly, thankful that Liam couldn’t see his face. “Sounds splendid, son. I am so thankful to hear that Aiden has done such hard work. Thank you, Aiden.”
Aiden had been beaming as well, but it faded. “I did it for a number of reasons,” he admitted, looking at Liam. “There was a point where I thought it might be...very necessary.”
Tom looked down at the little boy who was still curled up against him, and swallowed hard. He understood all too well why such a movie might have been required...as a memorial...a retrospective of a brilliant musician...but most importantly, a way for a boy to see a mother he might not have ever remembered. Thank God that was not the case.
Aiden added, “I also have some footage of her conducting, it isn’t just of her playing instruments. I thought it was very important that Liam see her at the pinnacle of her professional achievement. We’ve all seen her play, but God, Tom...her joy when she conducts...she all but self-illuminates. I can’t believe she doesn’t levitate.”
Tom was ruffling Liam’s hair, feeling him get heavier as he was slowly losing the fight against sleep. “Aiden, how long is this movie?”
“Longer than you would think. Take a guess.”
“Before you mentioned the conducting, I would have said, half an hour? That is quite a lot of time of playing...”
“Think again. Almost two hours,” Aiden snickered, proud of himself. “Almost two solid hours of Merry playing the cello...violin...piano...conducting. You know our Merry, never content unless she was...is...making music in one way or another. That’s how it was so easy when we were still in university. It’s how she managed to keep her mind off the nausea when she was carrying that one there.” Aiden nodded at Liam, who was now asleep against Tom’s chest, mouth open, and snuffling slightly. “I did my best to encourage her, and keep her laughing. Once everyone in the department was clued into her condition, they were right there with me. For all she was so intensely private with her personal affairs, she was still so...well, she’d murder me fo saying it...merry with others. A smile, a laugh, a little pick-me-up with someone she knew was struggling. When she turned up pregnant, no one could believe it, no one had ever seen her with anyone, she had never mentioned anyone, well, there were some unkind comments about virgin births all over again.”
Tom’s eyes flashed both in anger and shame. “I never attempted to keep her from meeting up with classmates, nor did I try to keep us a great secret.”
Aiden shook his head. “I know, Tom. Merry was all about reaching out but never taking back. I’ve known her longer than you, at least by name and face. But I didn’t really know her. No one did, except that she was wildly talented, deeply focused, and so private. So once there was an ‘in,’ a way people could actually gain access to her, even if it was to encourage those impromptu recitals in the halls, a way to make her laugh a bit while I could video her on my phone...it helped. But still, she never let anyone in, not really.”
Tom took a breath, then asked, “Aiden, may I watch the movie privately, so when I see it with Liam, it isn’t the first time?”
Aiden nodded. “You know, that’s a really good idea. Let’s get this one tucked in, and I’ll get it to you.”
Aiden handed a DVD to Tom, who was surprised to see that it looked professionally marketed, instead of just something handwritten in permanent marker. “Aiden...this is incredible.”
“I told you, I wasn’t sure what it was going to be used for when I made it, and I wanted it done right,” Aiden deflected. “It helps having friends in the right places. Um, if you want, I could watch it with you, and explain some things. Or maybe you just want to watch it yourself. It’s up to you.”
Tom deliberated for a moment, then replied, his voice husky, “Aiden, I think it’s best I just see this alone. But thank you.”
“Sure, I understand. You know there’s a TV and player in your room. Good night.” Aiden gave him a half smile and wave, and left.
Tom couldn’t set up the DVD fast enough.
Second selection: https://youtu.be/12r8LCI47WU
Despite the DVD’s appearance, the opening menu was simple, and yet it still took Tom’s breath away. He was so grateful he was watching this without Liam’s alert presence by his side. His screen was filled with a lovely candid photo of his beloved Merry smiling and looking off to the side. Her long hair was loosely pulled back in an ivory ribbon that matched the cable knit sweater she was wearing (he remembered that sweater), and her cello was resting against her jean clad knee as she sat in a chair. He didn’t recognize the haunting and lovely background music, but he had no doubt it was Merry who was performing it. But the puzzling aspect was at the bottom right corner of the screen, the simple words, “The Tom Edition.” Perhaps this is what Aiden wished to explain?
The only option he had was to press “PLAY.”
Third selection: https://youtu.be/lrE5CC1up3s
It began with Merry sitting at a piano and playing, her fingers rippling across the keys smoothly. Someone called, “Skye, are you ready, can we get started?” But she did not reply, she simply kept playing, her body moving as an extension of the notes, clearly caught up in the music. Another voice sighed, “Ah, we’ve lost her again.” A third voice retorted, “We never had her in the first place, once she starts, she’s gone, you know that. You can either let her finish, go shake her, or physically move her. I’d suggest waiting if I were you. Even if you interrupt her, her mind is just going to keep playing once she commits to it.” The unseen onlookers fell silent until Merry played the last note, and she sighed and leaned back. The first voice called out, “Skye! We’re waiting on you, c’mon already!” Tom could see her come back to herself, and she called back, “Sorry! Here I come!” She rose, and walked away from the piano. Tom could see a slight swell in her abdomen, but he was looking for it. Her face was paler than usual, and she looked tired.
Fourth selection: https://youtu.be/3wzZtuo3MHU (does not require looping)
The next video had her standing in a hallway, there was a lot of laughter, and someone finally shouted, “No way, Skye, I dare you.” She had her back to the camera and challenged, “You wanna go there? Really, McIntyre? You sure about that?”
A voice, apparently McIntyre, riposted, “Skye, you’re talented on the cello, I’ll give you that, but no way can you bring that kind of heat on the violin. You just don’t have it.”
Aiden’s voice at the camera level called out, “Ten bucks, McIntyre. Put up or shut up.”
Merry turned around, and she was looking just as tired, but fuller around the waistline. “Forget the ten bucks. McIntyre, if I pull this off, you owe me some fried chicken. This kiddo is calling for some fried chicken...and some pumpkin pie.”
“Pumpkin pie? Skye, you’re crazy, there’s no pumpkin pie this time of year!”
Merry was tuning her violin and sighed, “Okay, just fried chicken then...”
Tom whispered, his eyes already filling, “Darling, I would have found some for you, I swear I would have,” as Merry launched into the brightest, fastest tune he had ever heard. It was clearly a Celtic jig, Tom couldn’t identify it, and the hall filled with hoots and laughter as her notes, triumphant and commanding, wrapped around all present, someone began beating on their instrument case to add percussion, there was clapping, and Tom found himself longing for his spoons.
Merry put her violin and bow down and grinned. “Extra crispy, McIntyre. I prefer drumsticks, thighs, and wings. Hop to, Capriccio is hungry.”
A laughing voice teased, “Only you would call your unborn child ‘Capriccio.’”
“Well, I won’t call my child ‘Bagatelle,’ because by definition that can also mean ‘unimportant’. And my child is very, very important to me,” Merry replied seriously. “And my child is certainly encouraging improvisation, among other things...McIntyre, why the devil are you still here?!”
The scene faded, and Tom found himself laughing, and he spoke, “Merry, you damned well better have gotten your fried chicken, or else I will hunt this McIntyre down and call him out...”
There were then a dizzying array of clips where Merry was playing in recitals, master classes, where her skills with the cello left Tom lost in admiration. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. He longed to tell her, repeatedly, how awed he was by her talent, her passion, the way she immersed herself, completely, in her music. Tom would watch as the woman he loved would somehow willingly walk into another dimension, where she would speak another language with truth and honesty, and all the strength she possessed. Once she entered it, the music was all that mattered.
Fifth selection: https://youtu.be/bSWxjcAAPL8
After were the symphonies. These were clearly professionally recorded works. Tom couldn’t always see what he wanted, which was Merry’s face, but he could make out her small form. The lush curves of her figure he had loved so passionately were gone, he noted, and a sick feeling arose in his gut. Was she already ill at this point? Was she aware? But as the camera would show her face, Tom saw what Aiden had referred to: Merry was clearly transported. It was as though she was pulling the music out from each section of the orchestra, weaving the notes like tapestry on a loom only she could see, creating a masterpiece. This was what she had longed to do, this was what she had spoken of longingly when they were entwined on her small bed, as they compared their dreams and ambitions while the snow fell outside, leaving them cocooned in the warmth of blankets and each other.
Tom thought about how he felt when he performed Shakespeare, the otherworldly plane he stepped into each time he entered the stage and began to breathe life into his character, giving words and poetry action and meaning, the high he felt when the curtain closed...and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Merry was also able to animate what others would see as mere ink on a page. It was real. It was true. It was her dream. And it was her soul. Tears were running down her face as he saw her expression when the last note sounded.
She was incandescent.
If the movie had been fiction, made in Hollywood, it would have ended there, just for the look on her face.
Sixth selection: https://youtu.be/gCCmaOMo5k8
There were the lullabies. Tom never got to see infant Liam, only occasionally hear his gurgling. Merry’s face was a portrait of tender motherhood as she would play piece after piece, sometimes singing. The setting would change, as would her clothes, but the love on her face stayed the same. But eventually her hair was gone, and her face grew thinner, her clothes larger, and her movements slower.
There were clips of her playing for Liam, then with Liam, as he picked up his violin and scratched out very basic beginner pieces, or plunked away on the piano. Both Aiden and Merry cheered him on, and praised his efforts.
Merry was now playing different styles of pieces. She would play tunes from Disney films, music that would have Liam belly laughing, giggling, dancing. But on the whole, they were growing slower, and less vigorous.
Seventh Selection: Reader’s choice--Instrumental: https://youtu.be/ZyFyapc3q9g OR original vocals by Enya: https://youtu.be/DFHaGBSyPr4
The last clip began with a darkened room. Tom heard cello music playing but could see nothing.
“Merry?” Aiden’s voice. “What are you doing?”
“Can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t, Aiden...so tired...I’m so tired...”
Tom’s attention was riveted before, but now all of his synapses were firing. Merry’s voice was trembling. She sounded so weak, as though she was at the end of her tether...he had never heard Merry like this, ever. This was the most intensely personal piece yet, and he understood now, why this was “The Tom Edition.” Aiden would never allow Liam to hear his mother suffering like this.
“Then put the bow down. Just put the bow down and close your eyes for a little while.”
“Aiden, when I play these pieces, I don’t have to think...I can just, just be. I fall into the music and rest, so that’s what I’m doing, okay? Please don’t nag me.”
A sigh. “All right, but I’m going to sit and be with you then. I don’t want you collapsing again.”
“No...I don’t want that either.”
There was more gentle, soft music...but then, Merry began to sing, her voice soft, and haunting:
Night has gone without my tears
Now I walk alone
You're no longer here
The days turn to years
I could never say goodbye
To the sadness in my eyes
You know you are in my heart
But the miles keep us apart
Time moves slow
In the falling rain
I still dream of you
And whisper your name
Will I see you once again?
I could never say goodbye
To the sadness in my eyes
You know you are in my heart
But the miles keep us apart
I could never say goodbye
Aiden’s voice spoke in the darkness. “Honey, when are you going to get in touch with Tom? I think you should give the guy a chance. He seems like he’s good man from what I can tell...”
Her voice was filled with tears as she said, “I promised, Aiden. I promised him, no strings.”
Aiden’s voice, filled with sympathy and reproach. “Merry...”
She sighed. “You’re right, Aiden. I’m so tired...I guess it is finally time to...” Her voice broke. “It’s time.”
Eighth selection https://youtu.be/kcMaxo0OaZo (can be looped for as long as desired)
The last clip had no video, it was simply a list of acknowledgements and thanks, while another piece played. Tom was struggling to breathe, let alone read them.
He had no idea Merry had been grieving so keenly. Tom had missed Merry, and wished she was still a part of his life. He refused to allow himself to address his pain, and went on with the business of living. He knew Merry had, as well. But the voice he had just heard, wrapping itself around the cello notes in the absence of light...it went beyond simply acknowledging loss. It spoke of deep mourning.
“I didn’t know, Mozart,” Tom spoke aloud in the empty room. “You seemed so composed when I saw you again...but why should I be surprised? You always buttoned yourself up so tightly when you felt afraid, or threatened in any way.” After her parents had callously dismissed her from their lives, Merry closed off her soft, tender heart, determined never to let herself get hurt again.
After their first kiss that had begun almost tentatively, but quickly built in passion, Tom took both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “Merry, I don’t do things like this lightly...not without a great deal of caring, and commitment...but I can’t give you commitment like you deserve. I am going to leave in less than five months, probably closer to four. Once we’ve completed filming in this area, I am going to leave to complete the movie elsewhere, and from there I am going to be thrust into a huge worldwide press tour. I desperately want to be with you...but you are far too precious for me to treat you carelessly.”
Merry’s smile was bittersweet. “Tom, I care about you as well...I don’t do things like this either, hardly ever...and when I have, it was never anything but casual, because I do not let anyone close to me. At all. I’m not asking for commitment. I just want to be as close to you as I can possibly be.” Wistfully, she lightly placed her hand against his heart, tentatively curling her fingertips as though it was most she dared, the most she expected to be allowed to touch him. “...me, who never wants to be close to anyone. It’s strange, really...” She stepped away from him. “I understand if you want to leave now. No hard feelings.”
He looked at her intensely, as though he was trying to look into her past and her soul. “Who hurt you so badly, Merry? You are much too warm and giving to have closed yourself off so completely. Who hurt you, Meredith Skye?”
She looked away and replied dully, “Life did. Thank you for walking me home.”
Seeing the light extinguished in her eyes, the spirit stripped from her voice, was more than he could take. Tom closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her into a fiery kiss that not only rekindled the spark within her, but started a conflagration that didn’t stop until it consumed both of them, leaving only softly flickering embers in its wake sometime later.
Holding her body against his, softly stroking her hair, her face, her neck, Tom whispered, “I am going to find it so very, very hard to leave you. I already know this.”
Merry looked into his eyes and replied steadily. “But you will, Tom. You don’t have a choice. You have to leave, and I have to stay. We will have to enjoy the time we have together, cherish it for what it is, and then let each other go...no ties to keep you here...
“No strings.”
In the faint light of the bedroom, Tom pretended not to see the pain in Merry’s eyes as he repeated, “No strings.”
In the days that passed, Tom found that Merry was actually right: Yes, chemotherapy was awful. But she handled it well enough.
She knew which days were likely to be worse than others. She deeply appreciated Tom’s presence, but on bad days she seemed to slip into another headspace. All she wanted was her headphones, and for him to hold her hand. Even then, he would watch as she seemed to play the piano on her lap even if it appeared she was asleep. If she was going to vomit (which she did often) she did so calmly, and from another plane of existence. It was almost as if she wasn’t fully there...although when she would lie back down, she would still reach for his hand, and would occasionally welcome a cool cloth for her face.
One of the nurses took pity on Tom and told him, “Don’t take it personally. She is taking a lot of chemicals into her body, and it is not unusual for them to affect a patient’s personality, speech, memory...some even hallucinate. She’s actually taking this remarkably well.”
“I just want to be there for her,” he replied stubbornly.
“And you are. Just remember to give her what she needs, not what you want, or feel the need, to give her,” the woman advised gently.
Tom had to remind himself of those words frequently in the days to come.
It was the last week of filming, and they were behind schedule, mostly due to unseasonably foul weather that kept them from adhering to the proposed shooting schedule. While part of Tom was secretly overjoyed at the delays, this last week was turning into a hellshoot. Tempers were frayed and raw on all sides, and everyone was exhausted. Over half the crew were sick, and those that weren’t either were just coming down with or just recovering from a series of vicious viruses. So far, Tom had escaped what was being called “The Pestilence” (“plague” being found too passé), but he was almost sleepwalking at one point.
He was trying to spend as much time with Merry as possible, but his schedule was demanding, constantly changing, and hectic. He could never tell from day to day when he would have free time available. He knew better than to ask Merry to come to the set location, and he didn’t have time to track her down on campus. Merry made it a point to always have food waiting for Tom, day or night, along with the fresh fruit and vegetables he craved in order to keep sickness at bay. Sometimes she even shaved hours off her precious practice, class, and sleep hours to be there during the odd hours he was awake, or needing to rest to prepare for odd hour shoots: she found a sure-fire way to lull him to sleep was a certain combination of pieces, played on the cello and violin. He was stunned that she would give her time for this, but she would smile and stroke his hair, promising he was worth it.
He would float off, warm and utterly at peace, and would be completely unawares after he fell asleep (often faintly snoring), Merry would set her instrument down, and sit beside him, running her fingers through his hair, ensuring his sleep remained deep and even. She knew sometimes his dreams would become agitated when he was stressed, and he would begin tossing fitfully, even talking and crying out in his sleep. At the first sign of any disturbance, she would speak softly to him, soothing him with her words and touch. Within moments, she would ease him back into a peaceful place, and he could rest once more.
When it was the day before he was to leave, Merry slipped out of bed, murmuring she was going to start the kettle. He tried to ignore the pain raging in his heart, and nodded. He had barely set his feet on the floor when a crashing sound sent him running for the kitchen.
There he found Merry on her hands and knees, looking dazed and picking up shards of teacups. “Tom, stop, you’ll cut yourself!”
Oblivious, he knelt besides her. “Sweetheart, are you all right? What happened?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure...I must have stood up too quickly, I just felt so light headed, the cups, I was on the floor...I must have...”
Tom felt her forehead. “Merry, you’re ice cold and clammy...are you feeling ill?”
“No. No, Tom, I’m fine, just let me have another moment. I’ll clear this mess away and start making tea and...”
Tom looked at her face, and saw how pale she was. “I think not,” he decided, and picked her up carefully, bringing her to the sofa and wrapping them both in a blanket. “I think we shall just sit here for awhile until your color gets better, and you warm up. That’s it, rest your head on my shoulder, darling. I do hope you aren’t getting sick, darling, please, please don’t be getting sick, who will take care of you?” His forehead was creased with worry.
“You precious man,” she indulgently answered him. “The same person as usual, I can recommend her personally. She’s very capable. Quite good, actually. I’ve relied on her for countless years.”
He looked down at her quizzically. She pulled away from him, sensing his confusion.
“Oh, my sweet Tom.” She patted his cheek, and snuggled in with a smile.
It took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize she meant herself.
Kelly was a constant presence, encouraging Merry, supporting Tom.
“Tom, I know it must look bad when she’s throwing her guts up so much, but truly, she’s handling this like a champ,” Kelly told him emphatically. “Her labs are very promising. I was really concerned how she was going to take this, she was so frail when she came in, but she is hanging in there. The better she does now, the more hopeful I am about the way her body will respond the the T cell infusion.” She paused and eyed the way he was pulling his hair if not rubbing the back of his neck or jaw. “Okayyy...you, good sir, look like you either don’t believe me, or are very stressed out.”
“I don’t know how to help her,” Tom burst out at last, mindful of his volume, but his tone was quite clearly agitated. “I can’t hold her. She doesn’t even want to be touched. Tell me what I can do for her, she’s so miserable, and I don’t know what I can do. I would play the guitar for her, but honestly, I don’t think I’m of the quality that would be of any help...”
Kelly thought for a moment. “When she wasn’t playing for you, what did you do for her...and keep it G-rated, please,” she teased.
Tom felt his face heat as he mumbled, “I’m afraid to even touch her...”
Kelly looked at him and asked, “May I give you a hug?”
Tom nodded, and she wrapped her arms around him, her head coming right under his chin, her hands rubbing his back slowly. “You’re being put through the wringer, big guy. All I can say is you have to be patient. Which you have been. And trust her guidance. She’s been through this before. She doesn’t want to be touched, not because she doesn’t love you anymore, but because her body just hurts. Has she asked you to pack up and go home?”
He shook his head as he and Kelly parted.
“Then she wants you here. Believe me, I’ve heard about Meredith Skye’s temper. If she has something she wants to be said, she doesn’t leave room for doubt.”
Tom frowned. “She wasn’t your patient before now...I don’t understand.”
Kelly’s laugh was nostalgic. “When she informed Dr. Roths’ staff that she was flying out to see you...? He, ah, made the classic mistake, and forbade her to go. I don’t think anyone had ever heard the dressing down the likes she gave to him. I know he certainly hadn’t...they’re probably still replacing the paint she blistered off the walls...” Kelly sighed. “Ah, it was a beautiful thing. Dr. Roths is brilliant, but his people skills definitely need some work. When our Merry was through with him, there might have even been some applause. Might, I say. In a very discreet, surreptitious fashion.”
Tom looked down and laughed.
“She’s done, you know. With the actual chemo. She just has to recover from it, and we are going to keep a very close eye on her...and by then, it will be showtime. So try and relax. And once she is feeling better?” Kelly looked at him intently. “Do not be afraid to touch her. Are we clear on that? Don’t make that mistake. Love up on her as much as you want. What are you waiting for? Don’t waste time, Tom...we all make that mistake, don’t we?”
Ninth (and today’s final) selection: https://youtu.be/2iovXlPv52s
Merry’s fingers were moving, one hand was by her shoulder, and the other in her lap. Her bed was reclined at an angle, so she didn’t have to lift either arm. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint smile on her lips.
“Darling? It’s Tom, sweetheart...are you up for some company?”
Her eyes opened readily, and her smile widened as her fingers ceased their movements. “Tom...how lovely to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been out of it for awhile, but I’m feeling more alert today.” She reached one hand out, and elated, he took it and brought it to his lips.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” he replied, his face aglow with genuine pleasure. “What were you playing when I came in, it looked like the cello...”
“‘Gabriel’s Oboe’...but it’s neither here nor there. Tell me everything going on at home, Papa Bear...”
Tom looked at her carefully, and saw she wasn’t tethered to a variety of apparatuses. Slowly, he lowered a side rail, asking, “May I?”
Merry blushed, and nodded, thinking he was simply going to sit besides her on the bed. She was surprised and delighted when he carefully scooped her up and lay back on the bed with her in his arms. She was even more amazed when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of her head.
No one—no one—had ever touched her bare head outside of medical personnel since she had lost her hair. The simple intimate touch of his lips caused something in her heart to crack, then shatter...an ice shelf around her heart that had formed years ago suddenly collapsed.
If Tom could have known this, he would have been insufferably pleased.
But he couldn’t tell. If he noticed anything, it was Merry seemed more inclined to touch him as he told her about the latest in the World of Liam: the ducks in the area were slightly less rude than London ducks, Tom was aggrieved to report; minor key was much more interesting sounding than major key; scales were boring but arpeggios were fun; he was reading at a frightening pace, so much so that he and Aiden found they needed to pay attention to advertisements and graffiti much more than they had in the past.
He looked down at her. Merry was so still, he was certain she had fallen asleep.
Her face peaceful and wreathed with a blissful smile...but when he fell silent, her eyelids flew open. “Why did you stop?”
Drowning in her blue eyes, he touched the tip of her nose lightly. “I thought you’d fallen asleep there.”
Merry reached up and patted his chest, over his heart, right next to where her head was resting. “Are you joking? I can hear your heart, your breathing, the vibrations of your voice as you are telling me all about our boy...I wouldn’t miss this for anything, Tom. I don’t want to miss a single word.”
Tom felt his heart actually skip a beat when Merry touched him so tenderly of her own volition, and reached up to capture her hand and press it closely to his body. “In that case, I won’t waste a single moment.”
He felt her smile as he continued, “Liam has decided that pigeons and squirrels must be mortal enemies of old, as they are clearly fighting over the same resources...the way he tells it, it sounds as though they could be Montagues against Capulets...”
“Vampires against lycans...”
“Liverpool against Manchester United...”
“First chair versus second chair. God save me.”
Tom laughed, and kissed her head again. “Just so...”
TAGGING: Lifetime Memberships @hopelessromanticspoonie @yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @winterisakiller @theheartofpenelope
Symphony Season Ticket Holders: @jessiejunebug @alexakeyloveloki @scorpionchild81 @tinchentitri @theoneanna @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @blacksuitofdoom @mishaandthebrits @wegingerangelican @rjohnson1280
#tom hiddleston#a symphony without strings#tom hiddleston rpf#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston angst#tom hiddleston x oc#look Christine I did a thing#Nonsensical Writes
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Stuck -- Chapter Six
Masterlist Previous Next
Word Count: 2534
“Damn it,” I groan, curling into a tighter ball on the bed. Cramps have been hitting hard this morning, and my pain pill is taking forever to kick in.
Haipeo whimpers, snuggling into my back. She’s only been with e a few days, and she already reacts like I raised her from a puppy.
Keyowo licks my face multiple times in an effort to cheer me up. She ends up lying down and just looking at me.
“Yes, she is in a lot of pain,” Taehyung says into his phone as he walks out of the bathroom. His hair still wet form the shower he finished just minutes ago, and shorts his only article of clothing.
I smile at the body of my boyfriend. He has a toned back with firm shoulders. His arms don’t really show it, but they are muscular. His chest is smooth and strong. It is his soft tummy that I love the most.
“Thank you,” Taehyung says before ending the call.
“Tae,” I call out.
“Hm?” He looks over at me. “Oh, jagi,” he rushes over to my side, placing his phone down on the bedside table.
“Who was that?” I tenderly smile.
“Just Mr. Son,” he smooths hair out of my face. “I wanted to let him know you won’t be coming in today.”
“Oh,” I pout. “This sucks.”
“I know,” he kisses my forehead. “You’ll be good tomorrow, but today won’t be terrible. A day home with our dogs. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
“I just want to be with you,” I sigh. “One day will be fine.”
“I’ll sing for you when I get back. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful,” I giggle as Haipeo and Keyowo perk up from my improved state. “Your tummy is my new favorite thing.”
Taehyung stands up, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Why? It’s soft and not fit.”
“That’s why I like it. It fits you better than abs. A cute tummy for a cute man.”
“I can be more than cute,” he trials his fingers lightly up my arm.
“Oh, I know. I have watched you on stage.”
“If you need anything today, remember, I am just a call away. Do not hesitate to call for my help.”
“I won’t,” I reach out to poke his stomach. “Tell the boys what’s up.”
“No worries, I’ve already sent out a text in our group chat.”
“Looks like you have your shit together,” I slowly sit up. “Can you get take-out on your way home?”
“Of course,” Taehyung leans in and gives me a kiss. “I need to finish getting ready, and then I’ll be off.”
“Am I a distraction?” I innocently bat my eyelashes.
“Hell yes you are,” he presses a hard kiss to my lips. “A good one. Helps me stay sane.”
“Get going, Tae,” I shove him away. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you get home.”
********
“Tae,” Jimin sits down next to the younger boy. “Are you okay?”
“What?” Taehyung snaps out of the thoughts of his hurting girlfriend.
“Seriously dude, what is on your mind that you can’t focus?” Jimin slings his arm around the shoulders of the other boy.
“Amber’s here to stay, there’s no need to worry about that,” Jungkook speaks up as he goes through some of the choreography again.
“I’m not worrying about that,” Taehyung waves the youngest boy off, “When I left this morning, she was curled into a ball as a wave of cramps was taking her. Here I am, having fun as I work, and I should be home taking care of her.”
“She’s been having periods for years, Taehyung,” Yoongi steps up to be right in front of Taehyung. “Little one is tough, and I know she’ll pull through this like she always does. She doesn’t need you to baby her. She knows what to do.”
Taehyung releases a frustrating sigh. “I won’t baby her. I just want to take care of my girlfriend when she’s in pain.”
“You’ll be able toa after practice, and the many more times she’s in pain. Not to mention the countless times you’ve already helped her.”
“Nari said Emily went over and checked on her,” Seokjin adds in as he hold the door into the practice room open for Hoseok and Namjoon. “She’s doing fine, Tae.”
“Amber has painkillers,” Namjoon adds. “So the pain will be masked until it fades away.”
“Kids tough,” Hoseok begins dancing with Jungkook. “She also knows how much she can take. If she were doing really bad, she’d call one of us. I know that for sure.”
Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, “I guess so. It just sucks.”
“I know it does, Tae,” Yoongi pats the younger boys shoulder. “I’d love to have her here as well. It’s just one day, so both of us can cheer up and make it through the day. Besides, I’m sure she’s lying around missing us too.”
********
“They call me, baepsae,” I shout out the lyrics as I dance around the apartment. The painkillers kicked in not too long after Taehyung, pushing the pain down to a dull pulse in my lower abdomen. I was able to get up and make myself a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. Then I look a long hot shower to relax my tense muscles. Emily stopped by to check in on my as well, and we talked for a bit which was nice.
Of course, I can’t just sit around while I wait for my boyfriend and take-out, so I’ve been playing a K-pop playlist. I have a lot of groups I need to look into, but that can wait.
“I’ve got a crow-tit’s legs, and you have a stork’s legs. They all say their legs are worth a million bucks. My legs are shorter, so how do you expect me to keep up? They say it shouldn’t matter since we’re coming from the same place,” I perfectly rap along with Yoongi. “Never, never, never.”
Haipeo rushes passed me into the kitchen with Keyowo hot on her tail. The two get along better than I could have ever hoped.
I fix my booty shorts as I walk over to the bookshelf holding my notebooks, mumbling the BTS song.
After I realized I was going to be home alone for most of the day, my confidence soared, and my outfit shows it. My blue booty shorts show everything, and that includes my big thigh. The cut-up t-shirt with puppies on it exposes my tummy and lower back. My feet are covered in socks with penguins on them.
The song switches as I pull a journal off the shelf. Instantly I recognize it as “Congratulations” by Day6.
“Yes, this song rocks,” I walk over to the couch, tossing the journal by my pencil.
The whole day hasn’t been filled with singing and dancing as it may seem. I made myself lunch while just listening to music. I’ve also been writing poems, anecdotes, and planning a new story. I also took some time to fix up my Instagram. The profile pictures is now of Taehyung and me, and starting now it will be used to give ARMY’s a better inside look of my life and the boys. They already seem to be liking the idea. A video of Haipeo and Keyowo was the first thing I put up and was so well received. No hate comments to be seen.
Haipeo lets out a bark as she rushes to the front door.
“Haipeo,” I scold. “Bad girl,” I shake my head, turning away to get back to playing air guitar.
It doesn’t click in my mind that the husky heard the rattling of keys signaling Taehyung’s return. The dog has rushed back into the room before the thought even flickers in my brain.
The smell of take-out makes my stomach growl, but I can’t take my focus off the music.
It’s not until two tan arms wrap around my middle that I realize I’m no longer home alone.
“Oh my gosh, Tae,” I jump in his grasp, scared for only a second.
“This is how I want to come home on the rare times you are here without me, princess,” Taehyung nuzzles his face into my neck, placing opened mouth kisses on the skin.
“Tae, why didn’t you call,” I pour. “I would have gotten dressed.”
The song changes again, this time to “Adore U” by Seventeen.
“But you aren’t naked,” he pulls his head away form my neck. “Plus, you look super sexy.”
“Really?” I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Yes, really. I love you when you are drowning in sweatshirts, and I love this showing of skin. You are beautiful, jagi.”
“I’m just insecure, you know that.”
“That’s why I am telling you just how amazing you look,” he places a kiss to my cheek. “I will do whatever it takes for you to always love your body.”
“I’ve come a long way.”
“I know you have, and I am so proud. Body positivity all the time. That’s how I try to be.”
I open my mouth to reply, but am cut off as my stomach growls.
Taehyung giggles, “That is too cute.” He gently pinches my stomach. “Are you hungry, princess?”
“Very. That food smells so good,” I turn my face to get the first glimpse of my boyfriend since he got home. “Good thing you remembered.”
“I’ve been thinking of you all day, so it would have been hard to forget,” he lovingly smiles.
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore,” I push my lips onto his for a quick kiss. “My man is here to protect me and make me feel better.”
He grins, “Let’s get our food so your stomach becomes happy, and you can tell me all about your home along adventures.”
I giggle, “That sounds wonderful, Tae. You have to tell me about your day too, though. It’s only fair.”
He presses a hard kiss to my lips, chuckling afterwards. “Of course. Now come on, I want to hear what you did all day without me.”
********
“I’m not as nervous as I was last time we took a train to see your family,” I smile as I tear my gaze from the window to look at Taehyung. “Not that I’m not a bit scared at how your extended family is going to react, because I am. I just feel better knowing your sister will be there.”
“She’s excited to see you again,” Taehyung grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. “My family missed you, jagi.”
“That’s good. That means they really liked me, and it wasn’t a façade.”
“Of course they like you,” he pushes my glasses up my nose. “You are kind, speak Korean, and are such a ball of sunshine. Plus, you are just so cute,” he presses a kiss to my nose.
I giggle, scrunching up my face for a moment. “You’re just saying that.”
“Nope,” he shakes his head. “It’s all true. If you don’t believe me, there are many others who can say I am right. Do I need to list them off?”
I giggle, “No, no. I believe you. I know the boys will tell me how cute, funny, loveable, and so much more that they always say I am. Emily and Nari too.”
“Then why question it?” He pouts. “Jagi, you did it yesterday too.”
“I’m sorry,” I pat his cheek. “It’s just shocking. After ten months apart, compliments in person have a different effect. Over Skype is one thing, but we are together again.”
“I guess I understand. Now I can see all of you, and you have to get used to it again.”
“That’s actually right. My flaws are much clearer than over a web camera.”
“I love everything about you. Even what you call flaws. Your tummy, thighs, acne, and whatever else. I love all of you so much.”
“I love whatever you think of flaws too, Tae.”
He cups my face in his big hands, “I know you do. You love me for me, and I love you for you. We fit together like two puzzle pieces.”
“That is so cheesy,” I place my hands on his. “You are adorable.”
He places a tender kiss on my lips, “You are more adorable, princess.”
“I can’t believe you love my acne,” I pull his hands off my cheeks.
“Pimples are just little friends. Plus, everyone gets acne. It makes you human. I get acne, and so does Jungkook. All of us get it on occasion. We can do face masks together.”
“That sounds fun. I have always wanted to try one of those masks. My forehead has an outrageous number of pimples.”
“I know. I saw them when you were getting ready in the bathroom this morning. You are so cute,” he moves my bands out of the way, littering kisses all over my forehead.
I squeal, pulling away from my boyfriend. “Taehyung, you are too crazy.”
He lets out a deep chuckle, “I’m just showing my jagiya how much I love her.”
“Well, can you tone it down just a little bit? I love skin-ship, don’t get me wrong. Just, now that we know that people take pictures every time they see us, and I don’t want a lot of kissy pictures. Unless taken by us or our friends.”
“Of course,” he grabs my hands. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way. I’ll try to stop being all over you in public.”
“Just ask if its going to be a bit touchier than normal. Skin-ship is lovely, but I get a bit shy and anxious in public.”
“I understand, jagi. You get flustered easy, and you don’t’ like it.”
“Thank you, babe. You are very considerate. Grandma raised a good boy,” I poke his cheeks.”
“She did,” he flashes a boxy smile. “I just love seeing you smile and be happy. Your eyes get all squinty when you give a big smile. Its so cute,” he coos, tickling my sides for a second, and then he pulls me into his lap.
“Tae,” I gasp, squirming to try to get off of Taehyung’s lap. My face heating up in embarrassment. “Please, you just said you would hold off on skin-ship in public.”
“We are one of the only people in this car, and the other’s can’t see us,” he presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek, and then one to my jaw. “Jungkook was so excited to be taking care of our puppies today. Yoongi-hyung said he’s check in when he could. I’m sure the other boys will stop by. Besides Namjoon-hyung. He’s on a date with Emily.”
I sigh, snuggling into Taehyung’s chest. “Nice change of subject there, Taehyungie. Embarrassing me, such a meanie.”
“No, I’m not mean,” he gives me a squeeze, rubbing our cheeks together. “I’m the best boyfriend to you. Sure, I make mistakes, but everyone does.”
“Okay, maybe you aren’t that mean,” I tease. “You are the best, Tae-Tae. I promise. Without you, I’d be stuck in America, not as happy, and with less friends.”
“I love you, Amber,” Taehyung kisses my temple. “Today is going to be a lot of fun.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hope you enjoyed reading! Scenes are probably going to seem a bit shorter because I am not going to do much editing to make them longer. Still, I think you will enjoy! :D
#BTS#BTS fan fiction#BTS x OC#BTS imagine#Jungkook x OC#Jungkook imagine#Taehyung x OC#Taehyung imagine#Jimin x OC#Jimin imagine#Namjoon x OC#Namjoon imagine#Hoseok x OC#Hoseok imagine#Yoongi x OC#Yoongi imagine#Seokjin x OC#Seokjin imagine#My OCs
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stranded {roger taylor}
warnings: angst.
synopsis: reader & roger get stuck in a lift together after they’ve broken up.
word count: 2.8k+
***
You sniffled as you slid down the elevator wall, your body still defrosting from the relentless cold just outside. Every part of you ached from the hangover you’d so kindly invited in this morning after one of the wildest nights you’d had in a while. It was incredible that you’d even made it to work that day. This is what a bad breakup does to you, you guessed.
You were never the party type, not until he came along and made you one. After all, he was always in the midst of a party considering his career – and choice of friends. You’d spent countless hours trying to get him to dance, countless hours spent nudging him towards a random supply closet so you could get your fill, countless hours taking shots even when you knew it’d hurt in the morning, countless hours clung to his side as you shooed away interested women. Countless hours of loving him, it seemed, and all for nothing.
Head in hands, you hadn’t even realized the button to your floor hadn’t been pressed. You could barely keep your mind off of him, and just as fate would have it, the elevator door opened to reveal the Devil himself. Of course, you weren’t aware, too wrapped up in your own sad and pathetic thoughts to even acknowledge his arrival.
“What floor do you need?” you heard him ask, and your heart stopped. Roger’s voice had always been so distinct.
It was clear he hadn’t recognized you as he faced the buttons. When you didn’t respond, he finally took the liberty of glancing over his shoulder. He reached up to lower his sunglasses, as if checking to make sure you were really you.
“Y/N?” he asked quietly. The doors shut. No buttons had been pressed. You swiped at your eyes with your jacket sleeves and looked away from him. This was humiliating to say the least.
A silence fell over both of you as you ignored him. It was easy for him, you supposed, to go on as if nothing had happened. He was the one that left. He was the one that hurt you. And now, he was the one that would look down on you like you were some broken record. You hoped he’d done you a favor and pressed your floor because you didn’t want to be any closer to him than you needed to be.
.
2 months prior
“You make me feel safe,” you smiled into Roger’s chest, curled up into a ball on the sofa. He patted down the quilt wrapped around both of you, but you caught his hand so you could intertwine your fingers. Thunder rumbled outside, lightning striking beyond the sheer curtains just a few yards away.
“You’re still shaking,” he observed. You shut your eyes so you could bask in his touch. You hated storms, and he knew it. So much so that he felt the need to leave the studio early just so he could comfort you. “Do you want me to get you some tea sweetheart?”
As good as that sounded, you didn’t want him to move. You held on tighter to his hand, burying your head further into his cotton t-shirt. Another clap of thunder soared you right back to reality with an audible grimace. Roger took that as a sign to do what he did best.
“Look at me,” he gently said. You kept your eyes screwed shut, knuckles white as you clutched onto his clothes. “Look at me, my love,” he patted the side of your face until you finally did what you were told. The smallest glimpse into his eyes was enough to have you relaxing into him again. He dropped his head so he could reach your face and left the lightest kiss on the corner of your eye, then your cheek, your nose, and then your lips.
Your fingers danced up to his jaw when he deepened the kiss. You could definitely get on board with this distraction. Roger prodded your side so he could slide his tongue into between your lips, causing you to release a breathy sigh. Thunder again ruined the moment as you flinched, accidentally biting down on Roger’s tongue. He hissed and broke the kiss, hand moving to cover his mouth. Although you were guilty and kind of embarrassed, you couldn’t help but snicker as you watched Roger go cross eyed trying to see if his tongue was bleeding. He scoffed at you, pushing your shoulder. “You think thith is funny?”
You howled in laughter at his unexpected lisp. Your eyes began to fill with tears as you rested your forehead against Roger’s neck. He had now began to laugh while he combed his hand through your hair. The next time you looked up, your face was completely pink and giggles were still pouring out like a waterfall. “I’m-I’m,” you struggled to breathe. “So sorry, Rog. I didn’t think I’d-“
“Oh, piss off, you tease,” Roger playfully barked as he wrapped an arm you. “Last time I ever comfort you.”
.
present day
Turns out, that would be the last time he comforted you. Not even forty days later, he was walking away from your relationship like it had never even mattered to him. There wasn’t any infidelity (that you knew of) or any serious issues between you two towards the end; he was just over it. Or at least that’s what you thought, it’s not like he’d given you an explanation. The elevator was the first time you’d seen him since.
“You have no reason to want to speak to me,” Roger spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours. From the corner of your eye, you noticed him press your floor number, and the elevator began to lurch upwards. “But I’d…I’d appreciate it if you would. Just for a few minutes.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Wiped at the stray tear that crept down your face. “You leave me, disappear for weeks, and you suddenly want to chat? I’ll pass.” Your nose was running badly now, and the pounding in your head was only worsening. Perfect timing, Roger, as always.
Roger glanced over his shoulder again to take another look at you. His expression held something you weren’t expecting – guilt, regret? He almost looked like he felt bad for you, which for some reason, got your attention fairly quickly. How could someone like him feel bad for someone like you? Truly, how dare he pity you?
“If I didn’t know any better, you’d almost look sad,” you spit out, now staring straight at him. Your eyes fought against his; he now saw your anger loud and clear. “I can’t imagine why.”
Just as the words left your lips, the lights in the elevator flickered and the usual humming stopped. The box rattled, jerking you a little in your place. Roger reached for a handle, nearly toppling over in the process. An emergency button flashed on the wall, and he was not reluctant to hit it. Many times actually, pure frustration rolling off his tongue. “Jesus fucking Christ! Of all the times…”
“Of all the times,” you repeated, mostly to yourself, but he heard you clear as day.
Defeated and now extremely annoyed, Roger took a seat across from you. He held a knee to his chest, right leg stretching out in front of him. Now it was him who wouldn’t meet your eyes. You swallowed hard and also looked anywhere else, but quite frankly there wasn’t much décor to satisfy you. After several strenuous minutes of thick quietness, you let out an obnoxious huff.
“You were always quite the impatient one, weren’t you?” Roger murmured. You assumed he’d said it to be spiteful, but when you looked over at him, he was smiling down at his lap, as if recalling a memory. Strangely, you knew exactly which one, and bit your lip to repress your own smile.
.
7 months prior
“God, why does Fred always take so long to get here?” you whined, dramatically flopping onto the brown leather sofa in the studio. You tossed your head to the side to stare at the other three men in the room, all staring at you as you put on your best fake tantrum. Well, mostly fake.
“Askin’ the wrong questions, Y/N,” Brian pointed at a finger as he hopped onto the little stage where the band’s instruments sat. “Should be asking; will he ever get here? Or will we rot here until we’re eighty years old?”
“He’s even getting to Bri. We should all be scared now,” Roger commented with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. He was sat at his drums, probably hoping that if he got ready faster, Freddie would waltz through the doors faster as well. That was never how it worked, though, and all of them understood that.
“Might as well take your lunch break,” you moaned into the cushion. You pushed yourself up so you could rest on your elbows, hands slapping your cheeks lightly. “He better come through that door with some food, or I might just starve!”
“You do seem a bit pale,” John joked, earning a side-eye from Roger.
“Don’t encourage her,” he mumbled.
“I’m withering away as we speak,” you cried out, flipping to your back again, arms shooting up towards the ceiling. “I seriously think my fat is eating itself. You lot do know that that’s what happens when you’re starving, right?”
Roger came into view above you. He blew out a puff of smoke as he gazed down at you, eyes tired but amused as he watched you feign death. “And you do know that we’ve only been here forty-five minutes, right?” he mocked with both eyebrows raised.
“Invalid. My fat,” you gestured to the sliver of skin showing beyond your shirt. “is still an issue. I can feel it churning away, Rog. Here,” you grabbed his hand, forcing his palm to rest against the cool surface of your tummy. Your stomach growled in response.
Roger began to giggle at your ridiculous behavior and pinched where you’d placed his hand, causing you to double over. “Hmmm, so dramatic,” he said as you acted hurt. “I think there’s some vending machines down the hall you could raid if you’re that desperate.”
“I see why you’re with her now, Rog,” Freddie gushed as he sauntered towards you two with a grin. You hadn’t even noticed him enter you were so entranced by your own needs. “She’s just as theatrical as you, my dear. If not more.”
“I’ve seen a ghost,” you gasped, grasping Roger’s arm for support. “Tell me you see him, too.”
Freddie rolled his eyes, “Definitely worse than you.”
.
present day
“Sometimes I thought Fred was going to knock me out,” you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, followed by a laugh you couldn’t bite back. As soon as you let it slip; however, you shook your head to rid your face of the smile. Not before Roger saw it, though.
“Y/N,” he pursed his lips. You met his eyes again, but this time both of yours were soft. You held your jacket sleeve up to your forehead just in case you cried again. You didn’t want him to see that. “I came here to see you. I-I wanted to…to apologize.”
“For what?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. “For disappearing on me? For acting like nothing was wrong and then just…” you were thankful for your sleeve when the tears began to fall. “Is that what you-you want to apologize for?”
Roger sighed. “For hurting you, yes. I didn’t know how to tell you how I was feeling. I thought that I might—“ he interrupted himself, seemingly lost in thought as he watched you cry. “I thought that I might betray you in some way, and I figured it might be better if I just walked away.”
You scoffed and your eyes widened. “You thought you might what? What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Y/N—“
“What? Did you think you might cheat on me? Is that why you left? So you could fuck other girls without feeling guilty about it?” you spat, voice venomous as things became clearer to you. “Except you did feel guilty, because you couldn’t even man up and tell me yourself.”
“No, that’s…that’s not it at all. Well, I don’t know actually,” Roger confessed as tears brimmed his eyes. He got onto his knees in front of you, but didn’t dare try and touch. “I was scared that I would ruin everything. I-I was so confident in us. So confident.”
You squinted your eyes. “You’re not making any sense. If you were so confident, then why did you think you’d betray me?”
“Because I didn’t know where your head was at! And I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to freak you out; I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t love you. I know that this sounds absolutely ridiculous and that I did all of that anyway, but now I understand why. Because I was pushing you away. Because I…” Roger wiped a hand across his mouth. You watched him intently, wondering what on earth was going through his head as he fought to finish his sentence.
.
42 days prior
“You didn’t have to,” you grinned as Roger crawled on top of you and straddled your waist. He handed the little black box to you, biting his lip as he did so. You could feel the excitement radiating off of him. “It’s just a day, Rog. Besides, I feel old now.”
“Love, you know I love how sexy your voice is,” Roger breathed hotly into your cheek before kissing it, ignoring your whining. “But just open the bloody box before I do it for you.”
“And you say I’m the impatient one,” you mumbled, earning yourself a pinch to your side. Squealing, you unravel the bow on top of the box, making sure to take your time as you watched from the corner of your eye as Roger unraveled just like the ribbon. Your eyebrows furrowed at the ring inside. It was breathtaking; silver with three small diamonds on the front. Modest, but oh so you. Your heart dropped at the sight of it, though, not because of what it looked like, but because of what it meant. “It’s…um…Wow, Rog. I don’t know what to say.”
Roger recognized your expression instantly and didn’t like it at all. This wasn’t his ideal proposal, no, but he thought it would definitely be yours. Laid-back, low key. You loved attention, but only his. “It’s not what you’re thinking, love,” he lied, smiling through gritted teeth, fake laughter spewing out. Your eyebrows raised and then fell in relief at his words. “I just saw it in the shop and thought it would look great on your finger. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Oh,” you let out a loud laugh that made Roger flinch. “Oh, good. For a second there, I thought you were going to propose.”
“No,” he whispered, worried that if he spoke any louder he’d give away the hoarseness and disappointment in his voice. “No, it’s not our time yet.”
.
present day
“Because I…t-the night of your birthday. The night I left. I was going to tell you everything,” Roger finished, finally finding the courage to reach for you. You stared at his hand, beckoning for him to continue. “All of my fears for us. Distance, trust, commitment. I wanted to make everything clear, no blurred lines. Right after I proposed, that is.”
“I knew it,” you shut your eyes, letting out a particularly heavy breath. “I knew something was off. I should’ve said something.”
“No, Y/N, I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know what I would’ve said, I was so hurt. You’re right to be pissed off; I left you. But I didn’t want you to keep living your life thinking that I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to face you after that,” Roger confessed, only stopping when he felt your fingers rest in his palm. He squeezed. “I still love you. I’m always going to. But you had to know.”
“Rog,” you sobbed, gripping his arm and pulling him to you. The elevator grumbled in response as Roger fell into you. You wrapped your arms around him, face burying itself into his neck. “I would’ve said no, but that doesn’t mean I would’ve left you. I love you. I would’ve…I just need time for that.”
Roger kissed your shoulder. “I was scared.”
For the first time since you had been in the elevator, a comfortable, loving silence sprouted. In the midst of it, you found yourself laughing, despite nothing being funny. “You are a piece of work, you know that? Have both of us sobbing in a broken elevator in the middle of the night. Fred can never call me the most dramatic one ever again.”
He pulled away, eyes gleaming as he stared down at you. “As in…he’ll get the chance? ‘Cause you’re gonna stay?”
“Oh, honey,” you smiled as you leaned in for a kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
masterlist
#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor blurb#roger taylor fic#roger taylor fluff#ben hardy!roger x reader#ben hardy fluff#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy#roger taylor angst#ben hardy angst#queen fanfiction#requests#apseventy
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Drunk & in Love
Quit my job so I could write - am I crazy? Hope you like this. I know that most of you prefer it when I write angst stories but I felt like my blog needed something that was just nice.
Plot: Drunk Y/N can get very, very, smitten with Harry. Warnings: Absolutely none. Photo is not from me unlike most of the time. x
Harry must have been annoyed with me by now. Fed up, pissed off and likely even scared away. But that was in no way my fault. It was common knowledge that my Harry was the most wonderful person there was, not only look wise (though my god was he handsome) but character wise as well. He cared so much, went into anything with his whole heart in it and the warmth he carried in his soul radiated off of him and onto anybody who was lucky enough to be near. I was smitten. Smitten and in love in a way I had never been before, in fact, my feelings for Harry ran deeper than I thought was humanly possible. And it cost everything in me to not let it show too much. When Harry had asked me to take his hand and take the scary step from being close friends to becoming lovers, I’d felt like everything got brighter. The street lights shun warmer, the cold wind didn’t freeze my skin anymore and nothing seemed to sour my mood anymore. Harry called me his girlfriend, he sent me little texts when I woke up and came up with new pet names for me every day. How wasn’t I supposed to fall for him inner days? How was I meant to keep my heart for myself, when in truth I’d given it to him the moment his lips met mine for our first kiss?
Six weeks. We’d been together for six weeks, and my knees weakened at the thought of him alone. My breath would quicken and sometimes I’d stutter and blush like a school girl who was faced with her first crush.
“You’re cute,” Harry had once stated, a pretty smile pulling at his lovely mouth, a response to me not getting out one simple sentence after he’d kissed me hello. No big deal. Just like practically everything he did, Harry managed to make being in a relationship seem easy. In fact, he’d hardly changed at all. He was still funny, dropping joke after joke until my tummy hurt from laughing and my cheeks ached from smiling so hard. Harry could still prove how smart he was, since he never failed to get out witty and proper sentences about the most complicated things. Aside from finding my hand whenever we were near one another and the pet names he’d started calling me, hardly anything had changed in his demeanor. Perhaps it was because he’d always been kind and flirtatious with me, but sometimes I really wondered how the hell he managed to keep his cool, when I was such a mess. Harry only had to as much as look at me for my fingers to shake and my body to melt. The effect he had on me was beyond my own comprehension and until today I believed I’d done an okay job at hiding it from him. Anyway, the reason why Harry must’ve been fed up with me was because I was a bit tipsy. Well, tipsier than I’d ever been around him before, and especially since I was now allowed to cuddle and kiss and compliment him constantly, I’d done just that. A bit too much. I’d sighed into his ear, kissed his rosy cheeks and went as far as suckling a tiny purple mark into his neck while he was talking to one of his friends. Instead of giving me the attention I’d wanted he did his best to not show what effect I had on him, so I began to voice my thoughts openly.
“You’re so pretty, Harry.”
“I love your hair. Really do, H. Lots.”
“Your skin is so soft and warm... How?!”
“You’ve got the best chest to cuddle up against.”
It was after I’d done just that, wrapping my arms around his shoulders while pressing my body against his chest, that he’d pushed me off of him gently and then shocked me by walking away. Fuck. My body stumbled a bit and if it hadn’t been for Mitch’s hands moving quickly to steady me I would have fallen, my intoxicated body no longer able to hold it-self up properly. How embarrassing, right? No wonder Harry left. I nursed my wounded ego by taking the last few sips of Sarah’s drink, which I stole from her when she wasn’t paying attention, and turned to find a spot where I could be alone. Not a very easy task in a crowded bar, especially when only half of your brain is working as it should. To my great luck the bar was in a several story building and after exiting through a fire door I found a narrow and quiet staircase, where I stumbled and fell to sit rather gracelessly. My head hurt. And for some reason my mouth was very very dry.
“And where exactly did you plan on going, huh?”
I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice and in an instant I was smiling.
Harry looked even better when he was looming over me like that, I thought, and though I knew it would probably weird him out even further I decided to tell him just that. He laughed and my cheeks flushed. Why couldn’t I shut my mouth already? He didn’t need to know every single thought going through my mind. Not when all they did was make me look even more insane, for I knew that I loved him far too deeply.
“Thought you left,” I murmured, not meeting his eyes.
Harry tilted his head to one side and moved closer so he could sit down one stair below mine, far more graceful might I ad. That bastard.
“Left?” he asked, and when his hand reached to hold mine I happily let him take it, “Without my drunk girlfriend?”
“M’not drunk,” I lied, ignoring the warmth spreading through me at the term girlfriend, “And yes.”
My voice thinned and I shivered. We were wonderfully close, I could feel his breath on my arm and see every little movement on his face. If he’d let me I would study his features for hours and never get tired. Harry’s fingers intertwined with mine. They were warm and soft. I loved tracing the small tattoo he had chosen to decorate his knuckles with and he in turn loved watching my fascination with his palms. A kiss to my cheek brought me out of my thoughts. When my eyes met his he was surprised to find my face was pulled into a frown.
“What’s wrong, baby? Feel okay?”
“Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked, ignoring his questions.
“Mad?” Harry shook his head and I didn’t fight it when his free hand settled on my waist while the one holding on to my fingers pulled me further into his body, until I was no longer sitting on the uncomfortable stair but instead in his lap. With a happy sigh I rested my head against his shoulder and unable to resist the warmth of his skin I pressed a kiss to his neck.
Harry groaned lowly and pressed his cheek against my forehead. “How could I possibly be mad at you, love? And what even for?”
My nose brushed against his jawline and I took a moment to breathe him in. He smelled so nice, not because of his perfume or washing powder, but simply because he smelled like the familiarity that was Harry.
“Because I’m clingy,” I murmured, hugging him just a little bit tighter, “Because I’m so... so ridiculously in love with you and we haven’t been going out for long. You could be annoyed with me for constantly needing your attention... hell I’m annoyed with me.”
His chest rumbled under mine when he laughed quietly.
“Oh baby,” he breathed and my heart jumped when his finger found my chin, raising it ever so slightly, just high enough for him to be able to find my mouth with his. The kiss was gentle, a soft pressure against my lips and when his tongue pushed itself in to find my own it wasn’t sloppy or hungry for more. His movements were determined and the sweetest chuckle tumbled into my mouth when my arms slung themselves around his neck and my fingers accidentally tickled his neck. Harry kissed me with a smile still on his face and my stomach fluttered when his hands held on to my jaw so he could steady my head.
“I love that you’re clingy with me,” Harry whispered against my lips before kissing them again with a little more pressure, “Shows me you’re as crazy ‘bout me as I am ‘bout you. Well, at least it lets me hope that you are.”
“I’m insane for you,” I murmured and he blushed as my mouth kissed his cheek noisily, “M’not even sure that’s a saying. But it’s true for sure, H.”
I shrieked when a sudden movement of his forced me to move closer until I was as pressed against his body as I could possibly be. His nose rubbed against mine and I whined when he removed his hand from my neck to grab something that was hidden from my view.
“Went to get you water, pet,” Harry chuckled as he pressed the cold plastic bottle against my stomach. Oh. “Even told you that I would. Asked you to wait for me, lovely. And then I come back to you not being there anymore. Had me worried for a second.”
Oh, of course. Had I seriously believed that my kind Harry would leave, fully aware that I was too drunk to function?
“I’m so stupid.” My head fell against his and I suppressed a smile caused by his short strands tickling my forehead.
“No, you’re not,” Harry disagreed with a laugh, “You’re just a bit drunker than what you’re used to. And it was loud so I don’t blame you for not paying attention to what I was saying. S’all okay. M’taking you home and you can rest assured that I’ll take good care of you.”
“I always pay attention when you speak.” My frown deepened and he kissed my nose to soothe me.
He shook his head. “You were kinda focused on my shirt, babe.”
“More on what’s underneath it.”
Harry laughed at my comment and wrapped me into his embrace a little tighter. “Okay. You definitely have to let me take you home now. You’ve clearly had enough.”
“Hm, I’d be glad,” I hummed.
Getting up wasn’t easy with my body clinging to his like a koala would to a tree, but somehow he managed and once he had me standing steadily enough he made me drink half the bottle of water. Some of it drooled down my chin and I giggled when he leaned in to kiss the droplets from my skin.
”You’re gross.”
He gasped. “Perhaps I should replace this water with another drink since sober Y/N appears to be much less complimentary than drunk Y/N is.”
His hand reached for mine while his other arm sneaked around my waist and I leaned into his side as he carefully began to guide me through the door and back into the hallway that led into the bar. All of a sudden my feet stopped moving, making both of us tumble.
“What now?”
“I told you that I was in love with you.” Fuck. Fuck, fuck. fuck. Six weeks! “Who says that after six weeks?!”
I shrieked and tried to turn my head away from him, but his hand found my cheek to steady me before I could free myself from his arms as well.
“Harry, I-”
I was silenced with his kiss, as warm and soft and full of love as the one he’d given me moments ago. He groaned lowly and let his hands rub against my sides in soothing motions.
“M’in love with you, too,” Harry promised against my lips, his breath fanning over my face, “With m’whole heart.”
I whimpered and leaned in to kiss him once more. You got to stop worrying, was what Harry murmured against my mouth before nipping on it once more. Then he pulled me back into his side and led me past all the people who were busy dancing, oblivious to us two lovers walking past them with a feeling so strong it warmed both of our chests.
It’s short, but just what I needed today. Hope you’re all doing well. Please leave a feedback and let me know what you think! Even if you hate it, I’d like to know.
Masterlist
#harry#harry styles#hes#harry edward styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles preference#harry styles drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles story#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles news#harry styles masterlist#harry styles request#harry styles love#lovers#harry one shot#harry one shots#harry drabble#harry drabbles#harry imagine#harry imagines#harry preference#harry styles one shots#harry styles imagines#harry styles blurbs#harry styles drabbles#harry styles requests
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Meet My Little Lad! (Louis Tomlinson Imagine)
Requested by Anonymous! ✨
I can feel them, I can feel them as if they are physically touching me…. Those radiant, gorgeous, breath taking sea green eyes staring straight into my soul, and causing my heart to skip a thousand beats so many times I’m pretty damn surprised that I haven’t passed out. You know up to this day it feels like I have been stuck inside the most beautiful and longest dream ever, a dream that I always pray to God with hope that it will never end, I always ask him to let me keep this dream…to never let me wake up because I don’t want to wake up. But then God himself has to constantly remind me that this isn’t a dream, this is reality.
You know over the years when you devote your love to a band that’s literally known all around the world because of their sweet, goofy personalities and music, with their billions and billions of fans continuosly screaming their names and listening to their songs every single day, being in a real relationship with one of them would never in a million years cross my mind. Cause now here I am, sitting across from Louis Tomlinson a.k.a my first real love. No I’m just saying that because of who he is, so you can save your ridiculous comments that I see flooding on my social media every damn day. I’m honestly saying it because of who he is with me, usually people view him as this very sassy person, which okay, he can be, because he’s brutually honest and is really not afraid to say how he’s feeling or give his opinion about you to your face, but with me he’s so gentle and caring, he treats me like a queen, not materialistically, but emotionally and physcially. Even though he insists on showering me with the most expensive things in the world, I make it clear to him that I love him and not what’s in his wallet, and he’s more than enough for me.
Of course almost every one of his fans think it’s bullshit but lord knows that I’m not lying when I say that, and so does my man. Up to this day I just can’t believe he’s all mine, I don’t even know how it came to be this way between him and I, but I guess the heavens wanted us together, because somehow him and I always managed to cross paths no matter how far away we would be from each other and how long we stayed without keeping in touch. We always ran into each other unexpected until we finally decided to stick together, get to know one another a little better and fall in love. The feeling of those lovely eyes on my physical being got to me again, I couldn’t help but release a giggle. “Stop.” Was all I managed to say in mid laughter, my eyes staying locked on the menu I was holding up. “I won’t until you look at me too.” My heart started beating a thousand beats per minute when his hand reached over and took a hold of mine, his thumb gently stroking my soft victoria’s secret lotioned skin.
“Babyyyy…” I heard him whine as he saw me just sink in my seat further down so my that face was completely hidden behind the menu. “You are so mean! Look at me!” He adorably exclaimed, man that accent of his kills me with the feels everytime, it’s just so attractive just like the rest of him of course, it’s music to my ears. I finally gave in and plopped the menu flat on the polished wood. At this point I think my cheeks is pretty much as red as a hot cheetoe. My eyes landed on his sweet face, and I laughed loudly when I saw him looking all grumpy with an adorable pout. “Awwwwww don’t be mad at me honey!” I squealed, reaching over to pinch one of his cheeks and wiggle his head side to side. “You’re so cute!”
When the compliment left my lips, a smile slowly made it’s appearance, he tried to fight it at first but he knew he couldn’t resist blushing himself whenever I was sweet to him. “Awwww there’s my bae.” I cooed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Shut uuup….” He playfully whined, looking away from me for a moment to hide his redness. “Louis come on don’t look away.” “Hurts doesn’t it?” Louis smirked. “Aw come on you know I love you.” I beamed. “I know baby. I love you more.” He promised, bringing my held hand closer to him and pressing his lips to my knuckles, giving me light but sweet kisses. Must this boy always cause me to have major butterflies form in my tummy? But then again if your boyfriend doesn’t make you feel that way then he’s doing something wrong.
“Seen anything you want to eat yet?” I asked. “Besides you? No not really.” “Louis!” I whisper screamed, looking around to make sure that nobody heard us. “What? It’s true, you taste fucking good to me. That’s why I woke you up the way I did this morning.” He reminded me with a wink. I felt the eyes of a couple in the table beside us glancing right when he said that. I chuckled and shook my head, like I said, he’s not afraid to say what’s on his mind, ever. He took a look at them and shrugged… “Hehe, like if they don’t do it either.” “You’re crazy.” “For you yes.” Louis smiled, right when I was about to return the sweet statement, the waitor came to take our orders, we started off with some wine and then Louis decided to order a tea with milk and no sugar, and for some reason I was craving coffee so I went ahead with that, then came our food. As always we had a funny, romantic, with a mix of dirty talk type of conversation the rest of the evening, we didn’t even realize how much time had gone by and how many people had left until a different waitor came up to us saying that they were about to close.
With that being said we gathered up our things, I offered to pay for dinner this time but of course Louis protested and payed, insisting that I as a woman, especially because I’m with him, will never pay for a thing. There is no winning with him when it comes to the check my goodness. After that we headed out to the parking lot of the restaraunt with our fingers intertwined together, kisses being shared every now and then. Thankfully the paps were nowhere to be found tonight, I seriously don’t think I can ever really get used to the million of flashes blinding the hell out of me, the last time I’ve faced that I pretty much fainted, but before that I had a slight panic attack because they wouldn’t stop bombarding me with questions about my relationship with Louis, not to mention they wouldn’t let me pass through until I gave them answers. It was truly one of the scariest things I’ve been through. But ever since then Louis has been very protective of me and made sure none of them ever bothered me again.
I shook off that ugly memory and happily wrapped my arms around his neck once we reached his car. He seemed a little surprised by my sudden action but he played along and held on firmly to my waist, pulling me closer so that there was absolutely no space between us. I just had a huge craving for his lips, tonight now more than ever, I don’t know if it’s because we finally had some privacy while being out in public for the first since we officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, but the night sky was especially beautiful and the feeling was just right.
“You’re staring at mi lips an awful lot you little bugger.” He softly spoke, playfully poking my nose while still holding me. I slightly laughed and nodded while humming a low and seductive “Mhmmm.” As well as my bottom lip being sucked in and bitten down on. Without another word, my head reached up and connected my lips to his, kissing him nice and slowly at first, his smooth lips treating mine as if they were fragile but little by little deepening into them more, until eventually his tongue was begging for entrance into my mouth. I placed a light hand on his cheek, my thumb smoothly stroking his scruffiness while my other played with his hair, gently tugging the ends of it while I granted him that entrance. At this point I felt like we were gonna have sex right here and now in the parking lot, or better yet the backseat of his car. I know that he was getting just as turned on as I am, I could hear his low groans, and the occasional “Mmmmm baby.” which truthfully was making my breasts twitch more for him. I want his body in mine but one thing is for damn sure, we can’t do it out here.
With much hesitation I knew I had to lean away, but it was mission impossible cause Louis wouldn’t allow me to at first, he kept pulling me back… “Lou…baby…” I called out in between our hot and heavy make out session. “Don’t…stop now precious…” He begged mid kissing as well. “Mmm…” I hummed, and somehow I managed to break it up, both of us desperately trying to catch our breaths as we just stood there in the same position. I can tell that a wave of dissapointment washed through him, believe me I didn’t want to stop either but I wasn’t about to do a live porno show for the whole world to see, besides who knows if those dreadful paps were hiding somewhere taking low flash pics of us right now.
I got my back off of being pressed against the coldess of the car door and touched his hard chest that was still going up and down with huffs releasing themselves from him…. “Listen, I’m sorry I killed our little sexy moment but that doesn’t mean it was to completely end…” I say, hoping to lighten his mood up again. His thick brows raised up high, along with another sexy smirk making it’s presence be known once more… “What are you saying my love?” “I’m saying that we should get our asses in this car, drive home and well…pick up where we left off. You made me pretty damn hot for you mister.” I proudly confessed, I was even more proud of his reaction, it was like he wasn’t expecting me to say that last part, but hey if he can dirty talk me most of the time I can sure as hell do the same.
He grinned, I don’t know how but he manages to make himself appear more angelic when he’s smiling, it makes me so happy. Louis gave me one last little peck on my forehead and walked me over to my side of the vehicle, opening my door like the gentlemen he is. “Mi'lady.” He says, smacking my butt as I went in. “Thank you kind sir.” I chuckled.
Moments later, as soon as the two of us set foot into our shared home, I squealed as he randomly picked me up off the floor, carrying me briday style as he shut the door behind him and ran upstairs to our bedroom. He gently laid me on the silky sheets, the softness of them caressing the skin of my body ever so smoothly while Louis hovered himself over me, his hands pressing the material on either side of my head, causing me to sink just a bit. He took a moment to really scrutinize me, his expression going softer and softer, I can feel it in my heart, the way he looks at me with all the love in the world. “Why must you be so beautiful?…” He whispered. “Funny, I could ask you the exact same question….” I also whispered, my hand reaching up to touch his scruffy face one more time.
Louis turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of my hand… “You know I love you right (Y/N)?…I wouldn’t trade you for any other women in the whole world…please tell me you know that?…” “I know sweetheart…I know….I feel the same, you’re just the sweetest angel and just when I was starting to give up on men you come into my life…I still don’t understand how you fell for me…just an ordinary directioner…” I replied, laughing a bit at the end. “(Y/N) believe me, I can go on FOREVER telling you what made me fall so hard in love and become head over heels for you. But right now I want to show you better than talk about my love for you if that’s okay?…” He asked nicely. This is another thing that I really adore about him, he always asks permission before getting physical, literally no matter how hard and how much his dick throbs, he would make sure that I’m on board with him making love to me.
“Of course…” I muttered with a slow nodd, while also pulling down the zipper of my crop top halfway to expose more of my clevelage… “You bloody tease…” He chuckled, then his eyes rolled up a bit to my tied hair, taking the liberty to remove the small band that was keeping it in a stylish ponytail. My hair was now spread on the sheets causing his smile to be even bigger, the next thing I knew I felt the warmth of his breath bring goosebumps to rise upon the skin of my neck. “I hope you don’t mind that I did that precious, I know it took you hours to style it that way but I much prefer it down…..it makes you look like a goddess.” Before I could respond to that, I felt how his skillfull lips began to dance upon my neck in the perfect rhythym, right when he got to my sweet spot using the tip of his warm tongue ro slide across it, the only word that came out of me was…. “Aaaaahhh….”
I heard the sound of my top’s zipper, feeling the way the fabric opened up to reveal my strapless lace bra. We were getting so heated, our inner thighs and private parts burning up and aching for each other to be connected, especially mine as I was covering his now bare and tatted chest in kisses, right on his number 78 tattoo. But something unexpected happend, right as he was about to unclip my bra and allow my breasts to be free, his cell phone rang in his pocket. Louis huffed and lowly growled in frustration, I admit I was feeling the same, we were just getting to the good part. “You know what, they can wait.” He assured, continuing to do my body right, putting his hands all over me, but then his fucking phone rang again.
We both grunted furiously, who the hell could be calling him so much at this hour?… “Just answer your phone babe…” I sighed. While still hovering over me he took his phone out and checked the caller ID. “The hell?…” He said with furrowed brows. “Who is it?” I asked curiously. “It’s Briana.” Louis replied, getting off and sitting himself next to me. Briana, that’s right, you guessed it, the mother of Louis’ baby boy, I remember meeting her for the first time last year…didn’t really go so well let me tell you. She instantely felt the need to be bitchy towards me just because I’m with her ex. I guess in a way I can’t blame her, I mean why would the old girlfriend want to meet the new girlfriend? But at the same time I approached her in a friendly manner. Anyway, the point is she doesn’t like me, in fact she talks shit about me to my boyfriend sometimes, one day she was accusing him of spending more time with me than with their son, and that it seemed like he was putting me before Freddie, which is so not true, Louis has made it clear that his boy is first before anybody else in his life, and of course I completely agree because that’s the way it should be, I’m not gonna be one of those girlfriends who demand to be number one either. Overall, I have no hate towards Briana, none whats so ever I promise.
Louis sighed once more as he tapped Briana’s number once more and placed his cell against his ear. I sat up, putting my top back on and scooching closer to rub a gentle hand on the smooth skin of his back. The sound of the other line was kind of loud, so I could pretty much hear what she was saying to him. “Now you answer?” She pressed. “I’m sorry I was in the middle of…something.” He explained. “Yeah more like in the middle of (Y/N).” I pretended like I didn’t hear that, he slightly cringed but shook it off as well… “What is it Briana? Is there something wrong?” “Oh wow did you seriously forget?” She questioned. “Forget what?” “Okay, so you did, you said you were gonna take Freddie for the weekend remember?” Louis developed a confused expression but then his eyes went wide as he recalled… “Oh shit!” “There we go. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you the entire day, I’m leaving to the airport in an hour, our son has been waiting since the morning for you to come and pick him up!”
“Alright! Alright! I screwed up, I’m on my way to get him right now.” He promised. “Okay please hurry, see you in a bit. And tell your girlfriend I said hi cause I know she’s been listening in this whole time.” And with that, she hung up on him. I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head along with rolling my eyes, thank God my mom taught me how to bite my fucking tongue. “I’m sorry (Y/N)….” Louis muttered while looking down at the floor and burrying his face in his hands.
“What? Why the apology babe?…” “Because you have to deal with Briana’s rude behavior and also having to deal with dating a man with what American’s call “extra baggage”, I could imagine how hard it must feel for you sometimes.“ “Hey now, look at me.” I sternly tell him, lightly but firmly grabbing his fuzzy chin to turn his head to me. “I don’t care about Briana’s bitchy remarks….no matter how much I want to explode on her sometimes but whatever, I don’t care, and your baby is not extra baggage Louis, he’s a blessing. And he’s waiting for his daddy so go get him.”
“You really wouldn’t mind us taking care of him this weekend?” I couldn’t even believe that he was asking me that, babe you idiot…. “You shouldn’t even be asking me that Lou. Of course I don’t mind honey, and besides I never met Freddie before and you know how much I love babies!” I smiled brightly. It’s true, out of this whole time that him and I have been together I have never once met his little bean, well atleast not in person, and now that I have the honor of spending an entire weekend with him, I feel nothing but excitement. Louis grinned too and leaned in to give me a long and passionate peck. “You’re the best (Y/N).” “So are you my love, now go on, no more chatting.” I say, playfully smacking his back to get him moving.
He laughed a little and got off the bed, grabbing his t shirt and slipping it on as he reached in his pocket for his car keys. “Aren’t you comming with me love?” “Hmmmmmmmm.” I hummed with an unsure look upon me, if Briana were to see me she would just take Freddie with her on her little trip and possibly flip the both of us off. “Don’t think so bae, it’s not a good idea.” “Say no more.” He agreed, giving me a final peck on the cheek before dashing out of the house. Meanwhile he was gone, I went downstairs and made myself some tea and ate some chocolate chip cookies I had baked yesterday. Dare I say that I’m a better baker than Harry, haha, I remember he challenged me once, the rest of the lads being the judges, it was such a hilarious day, I will never forget it. Man you just gotta love those guys, they’re like my silly, pretty brothers, and I thank God for getting to know each of them so well.
About an hour later I heard Louis’ car pull up to the driveway. I placed what seemed to be my third cup of tea down on the counter and went to look out the window. Sure enough it was him and by the looks of it he seemed to be struggling carrying all of Freddie’s stuff from the trunk to the house. I giggled and stepped out to give him a hand. “Baby you’re still up? I thought you would be sleeping by now.” “Too excited to sleep, where is he?!” I squealed, making him laugh. “I’ll take him out right now precious I just need to settle his things inside.” I helped him carry and set up everything in the house, it took a while but thankfully we worked quickly. As I was putting the packages of diapers, baby wipes, and bottles away in the kitchen, I heard the sweet sound of my man talking to his son as he came in and finally closed the door.
I glanced back and stared at the beautiful sight in awe. “You have no idea how I’ve missed you little lad, I hope you missed your old man too because we are going to have a lot of fun for the next few days together. How’s the sound? Sound good?” He sweetly spoke as he placed the baby down in his little carrier on the floor. Freddie wasn’t able to be seen though, there was a blanket covering him and the only part of him visible were his little chubby legs that slightly kicked in his navy blue onsie. Even at just the sight of those, my heart melted, I’m already loving the hell out of this kid. Louis glanced at me with a warm smile and squated down to the level of the carrier, waving me over while whispering… “Meet my little lad.”
I quietly took steps over to them and squatted down also, my excitment growing more and more. “Alright he’s sleeping right now so don’t go screaming like a fangirl.” He teased. I playfully rolled my eyes and gestured that my lips were zipped and locked. He slightly laughed once more and kissed my cheek, then came the beautiful moment of him lifting the blanket up to reveal the angelic sleeping chubby wubby baby who was cuddling a tiny elmo plushie, his pacifyer wiggling up and down as he sucked on it. Believe me when I say it took A LOT for me not to squeal, he is even more beautiful in person, I was so used to seeing him in pictures so meeting him was as exciting as meeting another celebrity. My lips were taken in mouth as I frantically fanned myself with my hand, Freddie is just the cutest little bundle of joy I have ever seen. My boyfriend noticed me and almost bursted into a fit of laughter until he stopped himself, yeah yeah I know I looked like a complete dork right now but can you really blame me?
He put his hand over my mouth and sighed with a bored stare that had a hint of a smirk…. “Go ahead.” “MMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” I squealed into his palm as I also happy clapped my hands together. “God I love you.” Louis chuckled, finally releasing me once I was done. “Oh my goooosh he’s so cuuuute babe.” I complimented, my index finger reaching to carefully caress his tiny hand… “You are so handsome, yes you are.” I softly cooed to him. “Yup, that’s the Tomlinson effect right there.” I smacked his arm and giggled, “Shut up.” “Hehehe, oh, bloody hell I didn’t realize how late it was, come on, let’s take Freddie up to the bedroom.” “I’ll carry him.” I beamed, I can tell in his eyes that he was really touched by how happy I was having him here.
He went ahead and took the blanket completely off and pushed back the hood of the carrier, followed by unbuckling him. “Okay little love, I hope you don’t mind my stranger arms holding you for a moment.” I say to him, placing a hand under his head while lifting his little body up with the other until finally I was cradling him and the two of us stood up from the floor.
“Wow…usually he starts crying when his sleep gets interrupted. Look at you.” Louis praised. “Awwww thank you sweetie.” I responded, we heard something fall and saw that it was the little elmo he was holding. Right then and there Freddie began to stir in my arms, his face scrunching up a bit as if he was about to cry… “Uh oh…” We both said, Louis acted fast and picked up the toy, putting it back in his little hold. We both sighed of relief when he settled down and went back to being soundly asleep. “Guess he can’t live without that red furry bastard.” His daddy pointed out. “Babe don’t make me laugh, he’s gonna wake up, now let’s go.” We all went upstairs, I laid the baby down in the small crib next to our bed, making sure to keep him nice and warm with the blankets. Even though he was asleep Louis sang him a lullabye with that amazing voice of his. Man, you could only imagine the feeling I had inside watching him do that, after that we both said goodnight to him and finally fell asleep ourselves.
Just as I had expected though, Louis and I didn’t really get any sleep throughout the night. Him and I took turns getting up to feed Freddie or change his diaper, get him whatever he needed whenever he woke up and started crying. Louis told me that I didn’t have to be doing all of that and to just let him worry about the baby but I reminded him that I was really happy to have Freddie here with us and that I used to babysit my baby cousins all the time growing up, it was really no problem for me. “Eeeeeeehhh…” I heard the little angel speak up once again. I sat myself up on my elbows and can see his little legs kicking in the crib. I checked the time to see that it was almost 6am, the sun was barely starting to rise up in the sky. At this point Lou was snoring and drueling into his pillow, I didn’t have the heart to wake him up, poor guy was always so tired already.
I leaned down and kissed the back of his head right onto his soft brown hair and got up from the bed. I walked over to the crib and looked down in it with a smile. Freddie immediately stopped kicking once he caught sight of me, his beautiful blue eyes looking back up at me curiously, it caused me to laugh quietly. I guess now that daylight was beginning to shine into the room my face was more visible to him. “Awwww I’m sorry, you’re probably used to seeing your mommy’s face every morning. But now that you’re fully awake, I can properly introduce myself to you.” I reached down to have him wrap his hand around my fingers which he did, his eyes never leaving mine. “My name is (Y/N), I’m in a really healthy relationship with your daddy. Although you probably much radther have him and your mother together. But overall it’s really nice to meet you Freddie, you sure are a cute little button, you look just like Louis.”
His lips seemed to perk up into a smile at the compliment, like father like son, always blushing whenever a women tells them something sweet. “Awww you even smile like him, tell you what little man, since the two of us can’t sleep anymore how about we go downstairs, I’ll make you a nice warm bottle, maybe give you something like strawberry and banana gerber, and we can just get to know each other a little better, what do you think?” Words cannot explain how shocked I was to see his smile get bigger and his arms shoot up, signaling me to carry him. My heart just about melted completely. I happily reached down fully and took him into my arms, his little hands gripping on my shirt while his chin rested on my shoulder. He seemed to wiggle a little and say some baby gibberish as we passed by Louis… “Sshhhh, daddy’s sleeping sweetheart, we need to let him rest a little, he’ll wake up in a few hours and join us okay?” I whispered, rubbing a loving hand on his back.
Once we got downstairs I decided first thing’s first, give Freddie a warm bath and a change of fresh clothes. After I got all that done and freshened up myself, I put him on his little play mat and surrounded him with a lot of his toys meanwhile I got a small jar of gerber from his baby bag along with a spoon to feed him. “Is the little prince hungry?” I asked, waving the jar in front of him. His face lightened up and he dropped his toy car, reaching for the food. I chuckled and carried him up once again to sit him in his chair, then I opened the jar and dipped the spoon in it. “Look Freddie, here comes the airplaaaane.” I sang, opening my mouth wide so he could open his up. He mimicked me perfectly and ate up all his food without a problem. Now that he was finished with his breakfast it was time for me to make him his bottle. I made sure to keep my on him from the kitchen as he continued to play with his toys and crawl around the soft mat.
I don’t know what time it was at this point but I predict that it wouldn’t be long until Louis notices that I’m not next to him, he always gets mad at me when I do that because he says that everytime he wakes up, the first thing he wants to see is me. Cheesy I know, but hey, no complaints on my end now. Besides I think he would be happier to wake up and see how well me and Freddie have been getting along this whole morning. I walk back over to the baby and I see him slam his toy down. “Haha don’t be grumpy Freddie I got your bottle right here.” He turned his head to look at me and he spoke more gibberish, quickly crawling his way over to me and gripping my pants with a desperate face.
“What’s wrong honey?” I questioned with concern, squatting down and kneeling in front of me. “Aaaah!” He growled, his face getting red as he bounced up and down, oooooh now I see what the problem is. He grabbed a firm hold of my index fingers and growled some more and I jokingly gasped… “Are you pooping mister?” “Eh!! Eh!! Pfffft!!” He replied, making fart noises with his mouth and making it all bubbly as he squeezed more out into his diaper. I couldn’t help but laugh, his pooping face looks like Louis whenever he got really pissed off. Freddie didn’t seem to like it though, in fact he was on the verge of crying… “Awww no no no don’t cry my love I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to laugh, go ahead and finish, I’ll even help you.” I promised, laying him down on his back and grabbing a hold on his legs, remembering the certain trick my cousin taught me to do whenever babies went number 2.
I pushed his knees up, making his legs spread and holding it like that just like nurses would do to a woman while she gave birth. It helps babies release their waste quicker so they wouldn't use so much of their delicate strength. Once he was finished pooping, I assured him that I would be right back with his fresh diaper. I went into the kitchen and ripped open a new pack of pampers, then I went into the downstairs bathroom to grab the wipees. Once again I came back to him, thank God he’s a patient baby, he sure didn’t inherit that from his dad though. I put a towel down and laid him on top, then I took his pants off and opened up his dirty diaper. “Oh my!” I yelled, looking away for a moment while holding my wrist up to my nose. I could hear the little angel laughing at me and I looked back at him with an amused head shake.
“Dang Freddo, the food just went right through you huh?” I say, making him laugh more. I finally got the most difficult task overwith and put a new pair of pants on him seeing as how he pretty much stained the other ones. Now came the best part, when I picked him up and covered him in kisses. “Who’s the happy baby?! Who’s poopy free now? Huh?! That’s right you are!! Yoooou aaaree!!” I cheered, earning myself one of the world’s cutest squeals and laughs. “Awwww I love your laugh sweetheart, does this you like me?” Ever so slowly we locked eyes once more and a small then bigger and bigger smile revealed itself on his adorable face. “I’ll take that as a yes, besides Louis you have made me one of the happiest girls on Earth.” “Mmmmm.” Freddie cooed, chewing on his fist with his smile getting larger if that was possible. Spending this time with him was really beautiful, it just made me look foward to the next days of him being here.
For the next hour or so, Freddie and I were just playing with his toys, and also watching some seasame street on tv. Since his favourite toy was his elmo plushie he loved to cuddle with he would gasp and grin whenever elmo would appear on the screen and I would giggle saying… “Yeah Freddie look, it’s your buddy.” And he would always hug his toy of him everytime, it was so damn cute I couldn’t handle the feels he was giving me.
“Well well well.” We heard a handsome voice with sexy accent behind us say. I turned around to see Louis standing there all fresh and clean with his arms crossed above his chest. “Good morning sleepy head.” I happily greeted. He approached and gave me one of his famous good morning kisses. “You’re cruel precious, you left me alone, I could hardly go back to sleep without you there.” He pouted adorably. “I’m sorry bae, but Freddie woke up and needed some love and care. And you were sleeping so peacefully. Besides Freddie and I are best friends now.” I explained, giving the baby a kiss on top of his head. “Awww my two favourite people.” He stated, sitting next us. “Da da…” Said Freddie and my mouth dropped open, Louis laughed and grabbed him from my lap. “Yea pal! Good morning to you too! I love you!!” He cheered, blowing on his tummy and covering him in kisses as well then sitting him down on his lap this time.
“Did you have a good time with my (Y/N) while I was sleepin?” Freddie didn’t say word, instead he shocked me more by beaming and wiggling his way off his father’s lap and crawling back over to me. I could’ve sworn I had tears of joy going down my face when he did that. Louis was shocked too, so he tested it out one more time and brought him back over to sit on him. But Freddie wiggled himself out and crawled back to me one more time. “Oh my goodness! You sweet little angel. I love you too Freddie!” I tell him, holding him close to me and feeling his little hands touch my face. “Hey, little lad.” Lou called out, the both of us instantely facing him. “She’s MY girlfriend okay?” He joked, pointing at himself. We started cracking up like crazy when the baby made another fart noise with his lips and tongue and looked at my man all grumpy. Aw man like I said before I am loving this kid. But I am even more confident and joyful to say that….
This is going to be the absolute best weekend of my life!
(Sorry for taking a while to write this, work kept getting in the way lol, also just to clarify I in no way have hate towards Briana, I respect her as Freddie’s mother! Have a good day loves!) -YessyLove🌶
#louis tomlinson#louis tomlinson imagine#one direction#one direction imagine#one direction preferences#one direction one shots#one directions blurbs#freddie tomlinson#freddie reign tomlinson#freddie tomlinson imagine#band imagines
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