#how come you know his bedtime schedule down to the minute but he ignores your dms but then follows you back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shhh-secret-time · 6 months ago

Note

Hi lovey! I would never pass up an opportunity to request something from you, you are litro my fav writer on here ^_^ Obsessed with the way you perfectly capture the love in your polyam stuff, can we get Style x fem reader with some fluffy and soft lovemaking👀 Aaaa I’d just die for that!

Lots of love from a loyal reader, take care of yourself 💘✨

Me? Me am favorite? Why?! You bless me with the sweet words. I hope I continue to serve.

Also happy Kyle Week guys! We stan a silly man in love! I had a blast writing this one!

Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, F/M/M, Threesome, Pillow violence.

Pairings: Stan x Fem!Reader x Kyle

It's the pressure on his chest that stirs him. At first it was gentle, almost comforting in a way, but now it's too much. Every time he takes a breath it's strained. Kyle doesn't need to open his eyes to know what the source of his discomfort is, he already knows.

Stanley Marsh was a cuddler. It wasn't a secret the man was the most touch starved human being in South Park, but some imaginary pride kept him from acting on it in public. Behind closed doors the man had to be touching Kyle constantly, especially if it was bedtime.

"Dude you can't break the nighttime routine. Hurry up and get your ass in this bed. I'm tired!"

"Then go to bed Stan! Just because you don't care about your skin's health doesn't mean I have to neglect mine!"

It would be one thing if it was just Stan, unfortunately he wasn't alone. You were just as bad, if not worse. Kyle couldn't recall any moment in his shared relationship with you and Stan if you were ever warm. Not a day went by that you didn't complain about being cold.

"Kyle, sweetheart, love of my life, sun in my sky, light of my-"

"Yes, you can use my hoodie and my sweatpants."

A part of him feels bad; because as he cracks open his eyes, letting that early morning light hit the greens of his eyes, you both look so peaceful on his chest. Nothing in this world ever makes him feel so at peace than when he catches his lovers cuddles up against him. Stan tucked into his side; face nuzzled into the crook of neck with a heavy arm wrapped around his chest. You under that arm, slotted between his legs with your head resting just below his heart.

No, he can't think of anything more perfect. One of the many perks of being an early riser. He'd never tell either of you how he lies here for the first ten minutes of his day just admiring your sleeping forms. The way your hair clung to your face or how you would mumble under your breath, letting him know what kind of dreams you were having. Or how Stan's lips would curl up into a smile when he placed a kiss on his forehead. It was adorable that he could give him a dorky smile in his sleep, even with that trail of drool rolling down the side of his chin.

Kyle could deal with the sore arm and crushed lungs, not even the sweat bothered him. But the one thing Kyle couldn't stand being was being late, he couldn't stand it when his schedule was thrown off. If the shrill screaming alarm went off, it meant it was time to get up. Time to start his day and get work done so he can come home to the both of you as quickly as possible. Do the work, get the reward. That anxiety of keeping anyone waiting for him or being late for something was too strong to ignore.

So, what was he to do when his alarm went off and his two partners wouldn't move. Normally the alarm at least stirred you off him, made Stan roll over and give him room to get up. Something about this chilly Thursday morning kept you both glued to your spots. If anything, Kyle thinks he felt Stan's muscles twitch and his arm slide down towards his waist, tightening his hold on him. Your smaller frame moving closer to the source of warmth, sliding your cold little hands under his shirt. He couldn't tell if you were secretly awake and punishing him for even thinking about moving, or if you were just innocently still asleep. Either way that damn alarm wouldn't stop screaming.

With a huff, he moves his free arm across your body and makes a grab for the phone. Stan's eye, the one not buried in the crook of his neck, cracks open and he swats Kyle's hand. Sleep still trapped in his eyes, Stan fumbles with the device making it stop its cry for attention. He misses the glare Kyle shoots his way.

"Stop movin'." Stan's grumbled words make it sound like he's not asking, but Kyle wasn't having it.

"You know I need to get up. Now come on, let me get up." Kyle goes to move you off his chest and into Stan's arms. He figures you both can keep each other warm and comfortable so he can get up to start his day.

"Stop moving..." You whine in response to him trying to get up. He lets out the softest grunt when you push on his chest.

His brows furrow when he's pushed back down onto the bed. Kyle's back hits the plush of the bed making the headboard knock against the wall. If this kind of behavior was done on the weekend, he would have found it kind of adorable that you're both being so whiney. It did make Kyle feel loved that he was wanted, but being loved doesn't pay the bills or excuse irresponsibility.

So, he tries again, moves his arm out from under Stan and wraps it around you. In your sleepy haze you think he's going to give you a hug and give into the snuggling. You should have known better, should have remembered that Kyle was a stubborn man. Kyle twists his body in Stan's hold and uses you as a shield. Moving you into the arms of the raven-haired man, which Stan almost falls for. It's instinct at this point for Stan to hold you.

As much as he clings to Kyle, Stan clings to you. He loves picking you up and taking you away from whatever you're working on for cuddles. You don't fight him nearly as much as Kyle does and you get his warmth, it's a win-win. You huff in response, how dare that man use you and Stan's weakness against you.

"Kyle...noooo! Come back to bed." Your hands fly out to grab at his pajama shirt, tugging on the material.

"Don't give me that. I already told Stan I need to get up, you heard my alarm I know you did." The scolding in Kyle's tone dies when he sees how sweet you look. Even Stan looks adorable with his messy hair and baby blue eyes.

How dare you use his weakness for puppy dog eyes against him. The only defense he can think of is to turn his head and twist his body away from cute kryptonite. Turning his back on you proved to be his downfall. As soon as he did Stan's arm was around his waist, pulling him back against him again. You slipped around his body as if this was a coordinated attack. You moved your hands up his chest and locked them lazily around his neck.

"You're both horrible! God damn it Stan let me go! And you-" Kyle's protests come with a healthy scowl, one he's sure you're not taking seriously. "-you stop helping him!"

"Just five more minutes, please!" You whisper pleading, almost begging.

He knows better. Kyle knows better than to say yes because it won't be five minutes. It'll turn into ten, and that ten will turn to twenty. He'll be trapped here until Stan's alarm goes off, where he'll lay there watching him hit snooze three times. By then he'll have hit the fourth and Kyle will be late for work.

"No. I warned you both last night not to stay up and watch Castlevania." Despite his complaints, Kyle finds his body starting to melt back into the bed. His muscles don't tense as they should. His hands don't pry you away from him and instead find home on your hips. He even lets Stan intertwine his legs with his.

"Hmm, you're just grumpy Stan and I watched it without you." You hum in response, pressing a soft kiss on one of the stray freckles on his neck.

"Hm." Stan doesn't seem to register the conversation you're having, just grunting to tell you he's still awake. And that he really doesn't want to be.

"I'm not upset that you- wait you watched it all?"

".... No?" You muffle your lie in his skin, trying to hide the growing smile creeping across your face.

"You little shit!" He goes to bite down on your neck, squirming out of Stan's hold just enough to pin your wrists back by your head.

Squeals and kicks aren't enough to get him to stop. He rolls you over until you’re flat on your back, being late for work is a distant thought. Not when you just ratted yourself and Stan out. A betrayal like this can't go unpunished. Try as you might, you can't fight back Kyle's light-hearted wrath. His hands are up and under your shirt before you can blink, squeezing and tickling the sides of your stomach.

"Stan! Stan, help meeee! He did it too! Get him!" One minute you're begging to be saved, the next you're trying to drag him down with you. Gasping loudly as you try to catch your breath in between giggles.

Stan grumbles something now more awake since all that kicking, you're doing landed his way. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before registering what you just said. A little smirk playing on his lips and instead of coming to your aid, he props himself up on his elbow.

"He'll get his! Don't you worry!" Stan's smirk drops. Kyle cuts him off like he knows Stan was about to protest. "Stanley Marsh don't you even try and get out of this!"

Luckily for you Kyle's assault stops long enough for you to scramble away and catch your breath. Your heels dig into the bed, hands fumbling the pillow beside you. Anything to keep distance between Kyle and your sore sides. You watch as Stan sits up, giving Kyle a loving look. Slowly a hand cups Kyle's hips, soft digits rubbing circles in a way that allows him to dip them past the band of Kyle's sweatpants. The Marsh Charm™ is in full effect.

"Kyle...dude look we can watch it again. And we'll get all the satisfaction of watching your cute face react to the stuff we already know." Stan lets his voice dip low, sweet whispers against the shell of his ear.

"Yeah? To the stuff you already know?" Kyle leans into his touch, lips getting closer towards Stan's. He's close enough that Stan's eyelids lower down, breath ghosting across his partner's lips.

"Hm-m."

The poor fool. You almost feel bad for Stan. The Marsh Charm™ is but a candle to the roaring fire that is the Broflovski Wrath™. As soon as Kyle brushes his lips across Stan's lips, and the man's shoulders drop, a pillow is swung hard against the side of his head. Out of left field a flash of blue and white stripes slam into the side of Stan's head. Hovering over him in triumph, Kyle continues his attack. Stan's arms come up to defend his face from the memory foam, each wack making a thump against his head.

"I.don't.want.your.shitty.excuses!" Each word comes with a healthy swing. Kyle was on a warpath now. Denied the right to get up and get his morning coffee. Denied the right to a warm shower to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Denied the right to whatever else his morning routine demanded. And now he was denied any happiness that would have come with watching a silly Netflix animated series with the loves of his life.

Once he's decided Stan's had enough, he falls back onto the bed and sighs. He didn't need to look at his phone, there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to be late. So, he tosses the pillow onto Stan's face, who had just let his guard down again, and curls up next to you. Right back in the middle where you both had him moments ago.

"Fine. You win. The both of you are terrible, awful influences and when I get fired, you'll have no one to blame but yourselves." You and Stan both know that would never happen. The company Kyle worked for needed him badly, and he almost never called out of work.

When he closes his eyes, he expects the both of you to return to your spots. Reaping the sweet reward of a few more minutes of shut eye, basking in the warmth of his body like you always do. And in a way, you do. You and Stan take your positions against him, with you pressed up against his chest and Stan against his back.

Only you don't rest your head on his chest, instead he feels your hands playing with the metal snap buttons on his shirt. He feels Stan's hands playing with the hem of his pants again, hooking a thumb in the band of the sweats. Stan tugs him back against him just as your fingers pop a button open. The little snap makes his eyes shoot open.

"Someone's grumpy~"

"Are you mad at us baby?"

That purr in your voice and that little laugh that comes from Stan tells him that neither of you had any plans of going back to sleep. Kyle feels Stan's nails dig into his hips and can't help but groan a little at the pain. Those pretty sounds from his lips make Stan's cock jump up at attention, the borrowed basketball shorts do little to hide his growing arousal. Chapped lips trail down Kyle's neck, brushing up against the pulse point on his throat. Kyle's head lulls back expecting Stan to bite down, but all it does is open him up for Stan's lips to continue exploring.

He's so wrapped up in the way Stan makes him feel that he barely registers it when you push his shirt down. The shirt folds and slides down towards his elbows where you leave it. Your lips almost meet Stan's at the same point on his body, right on his shoulder where more freckles cover his skin. When your lips brush against Stan's you let out the sweetest laugh, one Kyle can feel make his heart speed up.

"Was here first~" Stan smirks down at you, nipping at your bottom lip. "I left his neck for you."

You giggle again and push your lips up against his as if to silence him with a kiss. You weave a response in between kisses. "You're the biter Stan, you take his neck."

"Don't talk like I'm- ah!" Kyle yelps when your teeth sink into his chest, right below his collarbone. It cuts his complaints short and turns it into a loud moan.

It's Stan's turn to laugh, a hint of pride in that deep sound. His thumb brushes over the bright red mark left behind, admiring it with a grin. He presses his lips back onto Kyle's skin right at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"F..Fucking Christ you two. What happened to five more minutes?" Kyle gasps at the warmth left behind Stan's tongue.

"Stan and I had other ideas! You seemed so upset that we did something without you." As sweet as you sounded, the way your nails scraped down his chest and stomach made Kyle groan. "Now we're doing something with you. Isn't this better Ky?"

He wants to respond with a snarky comment, to gain some sense of control over the situation, but his head is spinning. He should be used to this by now, how you and Stan make him feel. But every kiss and hot breath that ghosts his skin makes his heart flutter, it makes him fall that much deeper in love. Especially when he hears praise after praise falls from your lips.

"So pretty."

Was he really? Kyle looked at himself in the mirror that was connected to your dresser. His face was flushed, and his hair was a mess.

"Love those sounds Ky."

His moans? Or the whimpers? Both? He couldn't stop them if he tried.

"Keep you rockin' your hips like that fuck you feel so good."

Just a little friction, something to help relieve his throbbing cock. Something to help Stan's that pushed him forward, forcing his cock to grind against the thin material of your underwear.

"Let’s get this off you."

The desperate whine that escapes his lips turns into a gasp when Stan pushes his sweats down. Your hands follow close behind pushing down his boxers leaving him in nothing but that sleep shirt still draped on his arms. Stan moves his hands off his hips for a moment, he feels the man shift behind him and soon the rustling of clothes close behind. But a second later he feels Stan's arousal against his.

His cock slides up between his legs pressing up against his. Kyle bites his bottom lip as he reaches down to grasp both members in his hand. Deft fingers wrap around them and begin pumping slowly, creating delicious friction. When Stan moans lowly and jerks his hips, it encourages him to go faster. Pre-cum being smeared in-between his hand and their shafts. It was messy but it made him feel so good, so good he didn't want to stop. He could feel that pressure building, pleasure rocking in his stomach in time with Stan's clumsy thrusts. He tightens his hand, squeezing the tips just as his hand comes back up.

It wasn't until he felt Stan's desperate hands grab at his wrist that he realized just how close he was. The hot pleasure that he was building up simmered down to a low heat. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his chest and down his arms. When he looked down at you, you seemed to be enjoying the show.

Your fingers were dancing up and down his stomach, causing the skin to flex in response. He watched as they traced up towards Stan's arms and up back behind Kyle's head.

"We have all morning now Ky. Relax~ let's take it slow." Stan purred in his ear, low and soft. He felt his face burry into the crook of his neck again.

Kyle closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Still, that didn't stop him from seeking out something to help his aching cock. He pulls you closer towards his frame, feeling your thighs instinctively spreading enough to where he can slot himself between. A moan escapes you as he slips his fingers down the hem of your underwear. He slips his fingers past the band, immediately seeking out your wetness. Kyle coats his fingers before placing them straight along your clit.

Your hips start to move in sync with his fingers. Grinding against the calloused fingertips, trying to create more friction. The angel of his hand and the fact that you were the only one still dressed made that difficult.

"Help me take this off."

You sound so desperate, how could he not? Hurriedly he removes his fingers from your cunt to assist you in removing what clothes you still had on. As soon as they were thrown off to the side, creating some pile in the corner of your shared bedroom, his fingers were back on you.

The only time his fingers stop their assault is when he feels your body tense. They sneak down, drenching in slick, he pushes them inside of you. Pulling his fingers out of you just enough to where he can slide them back inside. He creates a repetitive motion, curling his fingers against the sweet spot of your walls.

Stan watches from behind him with a humming approval. His own hand reaches out and grips your chin, bringing you closer. Your lips lock together for a brief moment. Gentle soft kisses that come with a warm smile. Your bodies pressed firmly against Kyle.

Stan gives you one last lazy peck on the lips before he moves his hand back down to Kyle's thigh. He nudges his legs open just enough to slip his hard cock up against his backside. There's a moment where he pulls away but it's only a breath. He twists his body back with a small blue bottle of clear gel.

Seconds later he repositions himself behind Kyle. It's like every moan you let out only encourages him. After putting a healthy amount of lube on his cock, Stan aligns himself back up against him. He takes the time to lather the cold gel onto his hole before gently pushing himself in. Kyle slightly winces in response, his body tensing but as he focuses on fingers on you, he relaxes.

"That's it Ky. Relax. I'm gonna make you feel so good." His sweet words coax him. Kyle can only bite his lip and nod.

At the same time, you pull his hand out of your soaked cunt. His fingers coated in your arousal. You smile up at him when his eyes fly down to you. He's worried for a moment, but that look of love and admiration in your eyes makes him relax.

Not wanting you to go far from him, Kyle wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him. He copies Stan's movements and lifts your thigh, tossing your leg over his hip where Stan takes your ankle.

His hand going down to spread your lips where he eagerly guides his tip inside, you both sigh a relieving sigh at the feeling of it. A deep groan sounded from him and Stan both, once he's fully sheathed inside you. Stan rocks his hips forward, pushing in and out carefully. He tries to keep things slow, concentrating on pleasuring you just as much as Stan's giving him.

But the minute he rocks into you, being carried by Stan's momentum, he's commenting on his own desire. "More. Please, hurry up."

You roll your hips in response, hands flying out to be tangled up in his hair. There's that silent conversation that goes on between you and Stan again, one that he can't follow because of how much of a daze he's in. Stan presses a kiss on his cheek, you press one on his chest.

"Anything for you baby." It's the way your voice dips into a sultry purr and the way Stan's hands grab hips. "Like when you beg."

Kyle's seeing stars.

The delicious sounds and desperate use of his name almost sends him overboard. Stan's grip tightens and he picks up his movements, fucking him at a steady pace. Every time Stan drives his cock into him, it pushes his own further into you. Tight walls wrapped around his dick perfectly, like it was made for him.

Your walls stretch and pull him. Accommodating for the thick size, each thrust reaching further inside. Kyle nudges every sweet spot he can to pull more moans from you. The sound of wet skin on skin filled the room. A perfect rhythm and dance created.

It isn't until his name comes out in a choked cry that he knows how close you are. He hits a particular spot that had your vision turning white. That feeling of hot pressure shoots up through your body and down to your feet, you arch your back determined to have him repeat the action. "Th-there! Right there again! Please!"

Drawn-out moans escape his throat encouraging Stan to go faster and him to thrust harder. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him down for another kiss. Stan's gaze makes it all the hotter, as he patiently waits for his turn. Once you break for air, Kyle doesn't get that luxury because Stan's mouth his on his before he can breathe. Each kiss makes him feel more and more loved.

Kyle has to break the kiss to breathe. To catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. The lack of air leads to the growing pressure building up in his stomach again. He's so close, he can feel his stomach tighten. That familiar warmth pooling at his stomach. He knew Stan was close from the way his hips were beginning to lose their steady rhythm. He wants to hold out. Find a way to cum together, he's not sure why he wants that so badly, but he does.

In seconds of wishful thinking, he feels your body start to tense. Your orgasm building higher and higher, walls constricting around his cock. Kyle watches your eyes flutter shut as a high-pitched whine escapes your lips.

"Close- 'm so close! Gonna cum!"

"Fu-fuck!"

Then like a band stretched too far. He snaps. Kyle lets his climax take over, spilling his load inside of you. The sight alone makes Stan follow shortly after. With a final thrust he buries himself deep inside of him, tightening his arms as he does. Between his blunt nails digging into your thighs and the lazy thrusts, you follow shortly after.

Kyle's heart was racing so loudly it was all he could hear past the soft panting. The out of breath chest heaving up and down in time with one another. He's never felt more connected to anyone before. Through his glossy vision he watches as you're the first to move, slipping off his softening cock. Stan follows behind pulling out of him slowly. Why was his body so spent? He felt so exhausted at that moment.

Your gentle hands move to help clean him, and Stan lifts him up enough to where he's back on his pillows. They've never felt so soft in that moment. He lets his eyes close, and he feels the weight of it all.

"Mm... give… give me a minute and I'll get up." Kyle mumbles in the fluff of the pillows.

"Okay baby. Stan and I are gonna make breakfast. That sound good?"

He doesn't respond. Even his mouth feels too heavy to talk. He just nods and decides to give himself five more minutes. Then he'll get up, grab a cup of coffee, and start his day.

101 notes · View notes

jowrites · 5 months ago

Text

Thank God for cats - Jake Sim DRABBLE

Part 1

IDOL!JAKE! X F!READER FATHER!JAKE X MOTHER!READER!

In which Jake's daughter wants to hear the story how her parents met and fell in love for the 100th time...

TW: Mental health issues, depression mentioned, mentions of killing self, angst, semi cheating, emotional cheating, sad boi Jake, jealousy, fluff, neaurodivergent reader, mentions of pet death, cursing, kissing, groping

Jake sat with his daughter on the floor in her room, finishing up play time before bed. She had on her pajamas already and just had those few minutes before he had to put her to bed. He smiled down fondly at her as she handed him his items and held out her tiny palm to him.

“That will be $100 please!” She said and his eyes gaped.

“$100? For a banana and some eggs?” He said, gasping. “I don’t think that’s right, Miss.”

“The cashier is never wrong,” She said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Well, in this instance she is,” He said, folding his arms over his chest in a copy of her. “I feel scammed.”

“Fine. You can’t take the groceries then. Next time, make sure you have the money, Sir,” She said, huffing at him.

“And next time, try not to scam your customers!” He retorted back, sticking his tongue out.

“Okay, time for bed,” YN came into the room then. “It’s daddy’s bedtime too.”

“Aww, can I stay up a little longer?” Their daughter pouted.

“Nope. Into bed my little Layla,” He said lifting up off the ground, her giggles filling the air. He placed her in her small bed, tucking her in and getting her favorite stuffed animal, the white plush dog, and tucking it beside her.

“Goodnight, Layla. Sweet dreams, I love you!” YN said, leaning in and giving her a sweet butterfly kiss on the nose before getting up and walking out of the room.

“Daddy?” She said, “Tell me the story again about how you and mommy met.”

“Again?” He asked. “Okay, let’s get comfortable…”

He hopped into bed with her and got comfortable beside her, she nestled into his side, her little frame fitting perfectly in his arms. She hugged the plush to her little body as he kissed the top of her head.

“It all started on a late night walk…”

10 Years Before

Jake does not like to think of himself as an emotional man, he normally hides behind a mask and puts on the perfect smile and hopes everything he feels just goes away. For the most part, that always works for him, but why wasn’t it working this time? Jake couldn’t wait until it was late and he and the boys could be dropped off and he could rest his eyes. He was so exhausted, drained from the everyday schedules back to back and not having the time to even breathe.

Ding

New message

Jake ignored it, placing his phone on the table beside him as he waited for the last two members to finish their side of things before they could all leave.

“Is it Jiyoon?” Jay asked from his spot on the couch. Jake shrugged but he assumed it probably was. The last conversation he had with his girlfriend was not one he wanted to remember or one he wanted to even think about at that moment. It wasn’t a nice one, one where she threw curse words at him and reminded him just how useless he was. He simply walked away without much care. If she wanted to leave him, he wouldn’t blame her.

“You know, you won’t be able to ignore her forever, at least text her back,” Jay said, coming up and patting him on the shoulder. “Come on, time to go.”

Jake nodded, picking up his phone and walking behind Jay as the rest of the boys all followed suit. They all thanked the staff and began walking out to the vans to finally go home. Schedules these days were rough and Jake didn’t know how much longer he had before he would crack. He pushed those thoughts aside as he sat down in the van and closed his eyes, embracing the little moments of peace he had before he had to get back to reality.

Jake expected sleep to come to him the moment he laid down in bed but it never came. He kept thinking he was just a terrible person and he was being a terrible boyfriend and he hated it. He hated being like this. He read Jiyoon’s message and immediately felt guilty. She had come by and dropped off food for him and the boys and she told him to make sure he gets some rest because she knows how he can be. Even when they fight, she still cares about him and it drives him crazy. He sighed before getting up and throwing on a hoodie and a hat, grabbing his mask and walking out the door. He needed some air.

When he was feeling like this, he always came to the Han river and it always seemed to cheer him up. He could always clear his mind and think better when he walked alongside it. It was way past 2 AM by now but that didn’t stop him from coming out and having this small moment of freedom. This small moment to himself. His shoulders were constantly feeling heavy and his feet walked with shackles as he marched alongside the river strip, he didn’t know why but he wanted to cry. He didn’t let himself though, he knew this would soon pass over and everything would be fine.

He stopped in his tracks and in his view he saw a girl in the grass sobbing her eyes out. Concern filled his face, he looked around and saw nobody in sight, just her and his curiosity got the best of him because suddenly his tired feet were walking towards her.

“Uhm, hello?” He asked from behind her. She still cried, not noticing his presence and he cleared his throat loudly. She didn’t budge. “Hello? Are you okay?”

He tapped her shoulder and she yelped, startled front he tapped and looked up at him. He jumped back from her loud screech and screamed in response to her getting startled. Her startle startled him. He stared at her with big eyes as she stood up, holding out a hand.

“Please, I don’t have any money. Just let a girl cry in peace,” She said, and he quickly began shaking his head.

“Oh…oh no! No, I just wanted to see if you’re okay?” He explained, and she sighed, her shoulders let loose.

“Thank God you’re not like a creep or anything,” She said. “I’m sad.”

“That makes two of us,” He said, chuckling at his small joke. She just stared at him. “I mean, are you okay?”

“No.”

She went back and sat down, sniffling again to herself and Jake looked around not wanting to leave the stranger alone. She wasn’t from here, she was a foreigner and he wasn’t sure if he should leave her alone out here. Sometimes, especially for foreigners, it wasn’t too safe.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, taking a seat beside her.

“My cat died,” She said, just as she began to sob again and hug something to her chest. Jake noticed it was a small blanket. “T-this w-was his.”

Jake didn’t know what came over him, but watching the scene before him and seeing this stranger in such a vulnerable state without any worry of who would see her, brought his eyes to tears. He began to cry, trying to hide his own sniffles as he thought about his own pet, his dog Layla. The girl suddenly heard Jake beside her and she calmed down and looked at him.

“Why are you crying? He was my cat!” She cried out, huffing and sobbing.

“I’m crying because you’re crying!” He cried back.

And just like that, the two strangers sat beside each other and just cried over the death of a cat, together.

It was around 3 AM now when Jake walked out of the 7 Eleven with two hot teas in his hand. He offered one to the girl who sat on the bench waiting for him, she silently thanked him. Their eyes were puffy, noses were read, and together they sat there sniffling next to each other as if they’ve been friends for years. The blanket she had was wrapped over her shoulders and she held the cup between her two hands. Jake can get a better view of her face now, seeing her beauty and youth. He never felt so odd, crying together with a stranger over a cat he didn’t even know the name of. He knew the members would never let him live this down.

“What’s your name?” The girls asked, suddenly breaking him from his dreaded mind.

“Oh, I’m Jake,” he said, holding out a hand. She took it and nodded.

“I’m YN. Thank you for crying with me, Jake. Thanks for making sure I wasn’t alone during this time,” She said, tears welling up again and she quickly pushed them aside and gave him a small smile.

“You welcome,” he said, giving her a smile back. “What was your cat's name?”

“His name was Ophelia, but I called him Ophy for short,” She said. She took out her phone and showed him her lockscreen. The screen showed a beautiful gray tabby on the front, thick and looking at the camera as if posing.

“You named your cat Ophelia who was a boy?” He asked. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

“I thought he was a she when I first found him,” she said. “He had some tiny balls.”

Jake let out a laugh at that. His laughter brought laughter upon her and together the two were just laughing together.

“Man, people will think we’re insane,” he said.

“Who cares what people think? To be honest, my insanity normally keeps people away and they run. Don’t know why you stuck around and mother towards me tonight,” She said.

“You were literally crying, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.

“And I appreciate that. Well, I don’t want to waste more of your time,” She said, standing from her spot. “Thanks for keeping me company, Jake. Uhm…yeah.”

She suddenly turned around and started walking away, leaving Jake to just stare after her. He didn’t know why or what compelled him to do this, but as she was about to round the corner he chased after her. Once he caught up to her she noticed he was behind her and turned around. She lifted an eyebrow at him as he caught his breath, she just looked at him confused.

“C-can I have your number?”

******************

Present time

Jake heard giggles from beside him, looking down and seeing Layla giggling to herself.

“Why are you laughing?” He asked.

“Because you and mommy were crying together when you first met,” she said. “That’s kind of lame, daddy.”

“Wow, after everything I do and I’m still so lame to you,” Jake said, sighing.

“You’re lame but also really brave for getting her number then, and Thank God you got her number,” Layla said.

“Hm? Why?” he asked her.

“Because if you didn’t you might have never seen her again, duh! And then I would never be here,” she said, matter of factly.

“You know, you might be right. But Mommy is my soulmate, Layla, and soulmates always find each other…Let’s continue…so that’s how Mommy and Daddy became friends…”

**********************

Past

Ding

New message

Ding

New message

YN: I didn’t know you were an idol!

YN: 2 weeks and you failed to leave out that information. Very rude.

Jake: Is that a problem?

YN: No lol Just please tell me nobody knows. Kpoppies are crazy and I’m too young to die.

Jake: Don’t worry lol nobody will find out we’re friends

YN: Gucci hehe

Jake was about to type his reply when their manager walked into the room and began to talk to them over the upcoming schedules for the weeks to come. Normally company meetings didn’t last this long but things have been going on in the company and they’ve been coming in late. They were preparing for an upcoming comeback on top of touring still. Things were moving so fast and Jake could not slow down even if he wanted to. On top of things, things with his girlfriend seemed to be in the same state. They were working things out, but Jake couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting her time. They never saw each other which was the root of most of their problems, him not prioritizing her enough, but it’s not like he could just drop everything and go running to her every moment she wanted. She knew what she signed up for the moment they started going out.

“Alright boys, good work! We’re going to give you guys the next 3 days off before schedules start back up,” their manager spoke up, eliciting the room with cheers from the boys. Finally, some rest.

“As of now, you’re on a 3 day vacation. No funny business and let me know your exact whereabouts. Got it?”

********

Jake found himself outside the cat cafe covered up and hands in his pockets. YN gave him the time he could come by when she was closing up shop and he could come see the cats if he wanted. He mostly wanted to see her again, something about her just drew him in and he felt like he could be himself for once. Since they've exchanged numbers and started texting, he was intrigued by the way her mind worked. She always seemed to say outside of the box things and he appreciated that kind of thinking. She also never judged him and he quickly became comfortable enough around her.

“Are you going to stand out here and be a weirdo or are you going to come in?” YN said, snapping him from his daze as she approached him. “Hey, if you prefer to see the cats from outside that’s fine, you’ll be missing out on George though. He’s really the best manager.”

Jake chuckled before following her inside. She quickly flipped the sign and locked the door so nobody would come running in and disrupt Jake’s peace if they recognized him. Jake took in the place, the cute beige interior, the colors of neutrals and browns. It was very cozy. Cats were spread out everywhere, most of them asleep and some of them coming up to him right away and rubbing up on his legs. He knelt down and began petting their fur, the two cats who greeted him.

“That’s Yellow Mustard and Avocado Toast,” YN said, walking by and wiping some of the tables in the process. She was still closing up the cafe.

“You have a very strange way of naming things,” he said.

“I’m really not that creative, Yellow Mustard got mustard on him one time and we can’t sell Avocado toast anymore because of him,” YN explained, pointing to each respective cat.

“Uh, do I want to know?” He asked.

“Not really,” She replied.

Some other cats jumped down from their spots and came over to Jake. He quietly sat on the floor, enjoying the cat’s company. He noticed then some of the cats had collars on them with name tags. He noticed ‘Luke, I am your father’ on one, ‘Lana Del Gay’ on another and some other weird wacky ones that brought laughter out of him.

“Who picks the names?” Jake asked.

“We all do, sometimes customers. It depends,” YN said, shrugging as she went back to the counter to finish closing up. “Oh, do you want anything to drink?”

“Naww, I was thinking we can go grab something after,” Jake suggested and YN nodded.

“Sounds good. Also, how did things go with your girlfriend? Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“The same, we didn’t fight but we didn’t make any progress either,” He said, sighing and standing up and coming to her. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s worth it anymore.”

“Do you still like her?” YN asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, and he was being honest. “I just feel like I’m wasting her time and she is just holding onto something I feel like isn’t there anymore.”

“Jake, if that’s the case you need to end it with her. It's not good to drag it out like this. That’s not fair to her or you,” She explained, before letting out a gasp and rushing off to somewhere in the back. “I forgot to turn off the sink back here, shit! You were saying?”

“I didn’t say anything, will George be mad?” Jake asked as he watched her finish up.

“I don’t know, ask him yourself,” She said, nodding to the side where Jake saw a black cat in a tie.

“That’s George?” He asked. “I thought he was your manager?”

“He is,” she said. “He keeps me in check.”

“YN, that’s a cat,” he said.

“Your point? Ain’t that right George, you run the place,” She said, walking to the cat and giving him some pets. “Ha, Thank God for cats, am I right?”

********

Jake and YN sat on the floor in her small apartment, 2 bottles of soju had already been opened and down and they were working on their 3rd. They picked up some food on their way out of the cafe and YN offered to go somewhere quiet which Jake quickly accepted. Her place was extremely cozy, and she had another cat who was white laying on the small sofa behind them. Jake was absentmindedly rubbing the cat's fur which the cat easily felt happy and purred to. The two unlikely friends ate fried chicken and laughed together, talking about their lives and embarrassing things that happened. It was just so easy talking to her.

“I haven’t felt this alive in a while,” Jake admitted, his cheeks flushed from the soju, and he felt like just talking.

“Why’s that?” She asked, taking a bite of her chicken. “Do you want to kill yourself?”

“Jesus, YN,” Jake said, stunned by her straightforwardness.

“What? Usually when people say things like that they want to die,” She said, her shoulder shrugging. “I’ve been there too, I understand.”

“No, I am not going to kill myself,” he clarified. “But I do feel like I’m drowning.”

“Well, good,” Yn said.

“What’s good?” He asked.

“Good that you don’t want to take your life,” YN said. “We just became friends and I would be sad over your death too. I already lost a friend.”

Jake understood her, remembering how she just lost her cat which he learned was everything to her. How this cat brought her so much joy and comfort as she was in a foreign Country away from home. YN came here for a job that quickly fell through, and the night she quit that job she found her cat Ophy. He had been with her through all her hard times here, and even led her to her current job at the cat cafe.

“And if you feel like you’re drowning, just remember we float,” YN said. “Whatever you’re going through, you’ll get through it. And if you need a hand don’t worry, Roger and I will extend our hands so you don’t sink. It’s not fun going through things alone. Talk to someone, cry it out..crying always makes me feel better so don’t be afraid to cry. Embrace it like you did the night we met.”

“Embrace it, okay. I’ll embrace it more since you told me to,” Jake said, smiling at her.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know? We’re all human,” YN said. “Just don’t marinate in it, just let it out.”

“You have a very odd way with words, but it’s making me feel better,” Jake said.

“We’re all just a bunch of meat of all sorts of different flavors! Only difference is we shouldn’t marinate in things, that’d be cannibalism,” YN said and Jake let out a big laugh.

“What are you even saying? And why do I understand it? Jake said.

“I’m right!” YN defended. “I’m also drunk.”

*******

Jake had laughed so much since that night. He could feel himself slowly coming back to life. He felt more awake and more excited during the day. Anytime he was tired or disappointed in something, or a performance YN was right there cheering him on and being honest with him. She was such a great listener and anytime he had stress he would take her advice and his emotions became more clear instead of so stagnant and everywhere. His black and white world was becoming full of color, and the ice in his chest was starting to melt away and he could finally breathe.

There was one thing he knew he had to take care of: Jiyoon.

YN was very clear on her boundaries with him, keeping their friendship and never letting him cross a boundary she knew he’d regret. She knew he wasn’t a cheater and she would not let him become one. Friendzoning Jake was how she constantly set boundaries and if he ever tried to break through new barriers she would shut him down. He was in an unhappy relationship and she was aware, but she was not going to be this outlet for him to come to when he was lonely. He had to take care of that himself.

Jake didn’t like the term ‘breaking up with you’, he honestly hated it even if it was coming from him. He felt worse, but he knew he had to do this. This was for him. Throughout these months he realized he should have done this a long time ago. This had nothing to do with his newfound friendship with YN, he was checked out of the relationship long before he even met her. He spends more time talking with YN than with Jiyoon, and YN helped him come to his senses that he’d been checked out long before anything. He had feelings for YN but he still had yet to find her feelings for him. She did nothing but be careful and strictly be nothing more than just his friend. His very good friend and she helped him regulate his emotions more and come to a more emotional maturity level. He wished he didn’t need a crazy cat lady to help him realize this, but it turned out that way.

“Oh? Jake,” Jiyoon said, as she opened her door.

“I came to see you,” Jake said, Jiyoon stepped aside and let him come into her apartment. The place always looked the same, nothing new to him. He didn’t move from the doorway though, and Jiyoon knew he didn’t plan to stay.

“You look good, so much healthier,” Jiyoon said, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

“I’ve been doing better. What about you? You cut your hair,” He said, noticing how her long hair was no longer long and now cut to her shoulders.

“Ah, it was bothering me. I don’t know if you remember when I texted you the photo,” Jiyoon said, looking away from him. He didn’t remember and that just made him feel more awful.

“I’ve been-”

“Really busy, I know. Your company just doesn’t give you a break, does it?” She cut him off.

“Jiyoon, I’m really sorry,” he said. “Really, really fucking sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, Jake. I understand. This is what I signed up for when I started dating you, remember?” Jiyoon stepped forward trying to embrace Jake, but he only stepped back causing a frown to form on her face.

“No, it’s not okay, Jiyoon. I think we’ve both known for a while,” Jake said, and when he looked into her eyes he could see the tears in her eyes and he could hear her heart shatter. “We have to end this so we’re no longer suffering anymore.”

“Jake, we can work this out, please,” Jiyoon said, crying and gripping the material of his shirt.

“Jiyoon, I don’t want to. I’m no longer in this relationship emotionally, mentally, physically even…and you don’t deserve that. I’ve been wasting your time and you deserve better, I’m sorry,” He said, taking her hands in his and squeezing them one last time before dropping them to her sides gently. “Thank you for all the wonderful memories. You’re such a beautiful person inside and out, I hope whoever comes along treats you better. Be well, okay?”

Jake kissed the top of her head before opening the door and walking out. He knew if he looked back he’d be shattered even more. This is not what he thought would ever happen between them, but it did and he only has himself to blame. He let a few tears fall from his eyes before gathering himself up and putting on his hat and mask, covering himself up and walking out into the night. As he turned the corner he dropped down to the floor and sat there comforting himself. He brought his knees to his chest as he let out a few breaths. It was over, it was done. Suddenly, he felt something rubbing up on his leg and when he lifted his head he saw a gray tabby, rubbing up on his side and comforting him. He smiled and began to pet the cat, letting the cat come up on his lap and give his hands some licks.

“Thank God for cats.”

To be continued...

#kpop multistan #kpop writers #kpop fanfic #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #sim jaeyun #jake sim #will forever be in my jake feels #especially with the recent vids and pics ugh #jake </3

21 notes · View notes

mountingpulisic · 2 years ago

Text

PENTHOUSE

we moved to a place with a view off of eighth avenue

after we said I do

and we watched cars of bachelorettes, two am cigarettes

and traffic headed downtown

and the interstate was so loud, there was a lot it had to drown out

christian had found the perfect starter place for the newly married pair of you, he surprised you with it exactly two days after you had said i do.

it was a penthouse located in the heart of surrey, not to far from the bridge and not too far from your family, it was perfect.

the view is what originally made christian press pen to paper, it was something he knew that you’d love right away.

the two of you spent majority of your nights before the problems started cuddled up on the sofa that faced the view, nosy noses spying on the moments that happened around you. whether it was watching bachelorette parties, teenagers smoking cigarettes or the congested traffic jams, you and christian watched it all.

however, now you wondered if those same people watched as you guys had your fifth screaming match that night, had they seen how something so small caused a snowball effect.

you could only pray that the interstate was too loud, drowning out the harsh words that escaped your mouths.

we played the part five nights

but we were never there on the weekends, baby

we got along real nice, but when i left town, did you hate me?

for how well you and christian hid the problems in your marriage, the two of you should’ve been awarded oscars in the category of pretending.

the outside looking in would’ve never believed that the couple who shared tender kisses, doughy embraces and whispered words in each other's ears had just been engaged in a screaming match on the car ride over.

the outside looking in didn’t notice how the smiles that were plastered on both of your faces didn’t reach either one of your eyes.

the outside looking in didn’t take note of how raspy your voices have been. the projected volume the two of you had reached when screaming had taken a toll on your throats and caused conversation to be hard to engage in.

the outside looking in didn’t know how on the weekends, you had made it a personal mission to not to be in the same vicinity as your husband of five years. keeping yourself busy from the early hours of the morning to late at night, strolling in just before bedtime so the conversation remained to the bare minimum.

you and christian had still gotten along pretty well despite your marriage crumbling around you, not every encounter resulted into one of you raising your voice.sometimes the animosity was at bay and you felt in love again.

that changed the moment you left town.

it was a last minute girls trip your best friend had planned, wanting to get you out of your gloomy mood that hung over you like a rain cloud.

when you told christian about the trip, he automatically protested your departure. chelsea was scheduled to play against their long-time rivals manchester city, he needed you there, despite everything going on, he needed you.

you had ignored his pleas, and got on the plane to greece nonetheless, wanting to escape everything, to escape him.

you hadn’t watched the match but your timeline was flooded with the news of christian’s injury. he had gotten tackled by john stones causing his knee to open up and it had put him on chelsea’s ever growing injury list.

guilt washed through you as you hurriedly tried calling his phone to see if he was alright, but you weren’t surprised when it kept getting sent to voicemail.

he needed you and you had simply just left.

you wondered if he hated you.

one day, the curtain started coming down

i changed the second we were moving out

i guess wrong can look alright

when you're playing home in a penthouse, baby

having christian at home with you during his recovery period should’ve been the perfect time to talk about your marriage problems

to talk about the constant jealousy, the fighting that lasted till the early hours in the morning, to talk about how you weren’t there during a pivotal moment in his career.

however, silence engulfed your home yet again. the two of you walking on eggshells around each other because neither of you wanted to address the elephant that stood in the room.

it was the fifth week with him being home, you decided it was best if the two of you spent some time apart. calling your sister, she was more than happy to have you come stay with her as you tried to navigate through your feelings on how exactly you wanted to proceed with your marriage.

when you temporarily moved, you noticed a shift in your persona.

you started to realize all the signs that had pointed to the end of your marriage, you realized that you were so busy playing home that you couldn’t see that the place that you had shared with christian had been fighting fires for a little too long.

i bought the house with a fence, enough room for some kids

a backyard for dibs

and i thought that would make it all better

and maybe forever wouldn't feel like the walls closing in

'cause how does that even make sense?

now that I think about it, it never did

thinking back now, you grasped the fact that the house you and christian had purchased had been a scapegoat for addressing your problems that lied in your current home.

you thought with a brand new home, the problems you two faced would be left in your previous one.

this newly purchased house was supposed to represent yalls future, the kids that were supposed to come, the backyard big enough for the dogs that the two of you dreamed about getting, this house was supposed to be a fresh start.

you thought it would help with the feeling of the walls closing in, that with the extra space it would allow for you to breathe a little better.

god, you were foolish.

it hurts putting shit in a box

and now we don't talk

and it stings rolling up the welcome mat

knowing you got half

when you returned back from your sister’s, you had come to the conclusion that your marriage with christian was broken beyond repair.

you didn’t have it in you to keep nursing a wound that was never going to heal, you had to stop touching it altogether.

telling christian about your decision to file for divorce, didn’t play out the way you hoped it would.

you hoped he’d understand, that he too didn’t want to be stuck in a marriage that had more downs than ups, you hoped he would’ve just simply agreed.

yet, those hopes were scattered as soon those words left your mouth.

christian was livid.

one afternoon when you returned home from an early lunch with some of your girlfriends, christian had taken it upon himself to start packing some of your items.

navigating your way through your packaged items, you found him angrily stuffing your clothes in a box. tears were streaming down his face as he unashamedly snobbed.

christian was mad.

christian was disappointed.

christian was hurt.

you hadn’t spoken a word to him after you found him that early afternoon, you hadn’t spoken to him when the movers arrived later that week, you hadn’t spoken to him at all.

I kissed someone new last night

but now I don't know where you're sleeping, baby

we got along real nice, until I wanted out, now I know you hate me

your best friend had taken you out the moment you had spilled your emotions to her about christian basically kicking you out after you asked for a divorce.

she had taken you to a local bar to get your mind off things, and after one to many tequila shots, you found your lips pressed to a complete stranger.

after you came down from your high, you pushed him off of you.

even though the two of you were separated, you felt as if you had just cheated on cheated.

you didn’t even know where he was laying his head at the moment, but you still felt an intense loyalty to him.

loyalty you weren’t even sure he still had for you due to you wanting out of your marriage.

you knew christian hated you but somehow you still loved him more than you loved yourself, purposely holding yourself back from moving on from the midfielder.

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic imagine #Spotify

137 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 9 months ago

Note

remember how lio ignored his daddy after he broke his arm? does that ever happen to nico with one of the girlies?

Ope… wanna hurt? Okay let’s go.

Lucie Hischier stands in the middle of an applauding room at the first recital of her short ballerina career. Her brown eyes squint against the bright stage lights, trying to look through the beams and sea of people for her daddy. He said he would be here.

But when the lights fade and Lucie finally finds her family, she doesn’t see her daddy standing next to her mama. Lucie frowns even as her mom waves excitedly back to her with Sophie in her arms. Lucie’s eyes continue to scan. She sees her Auntie Em, but no Uncle T. She frowns harder. Her dad is out of town. He said he wouldn’t be. Lucie’s eyes move back to her mom and her little face scrunches up into a scowl. Then, she stomps her pink slippers off to the side stage where her teacher is holding up her hand to give her a high-five.

“Lucie, your solo was wonderful! All your handwork paid off!”

No it didn’t. Daddy wasn’t here.

When Lucie gets to her family afterwards, she is sullen as she accepts flowers from Lio. They share a loose hug.

“Luc! Great job today!” Auntie Em says, giving her back a rub as they embrace.

“Thanks.” Lucie mumbles.

“You worked so hard on your solo, baby. It showed today. I’m so proud of you.” Lexi murmurs as she kneels down to give her daughter a hug. Mack is holding flowers for her older sister and excitedly thrusts them at Lucie.

“Thanks.” Lucie says glumly. Lexi purses her lips.

“Hey, daddy is going to FaceTime us when we get home from dinner.” Lucie scrunches her face then shakes her head no.

“He didn’t come.”

“Yeah, baby he is on the road.”

“He told me he would be here.”

Emma and Lexi share a concerned look. The Devils originally were supposed to leave tomorrow, but a winter storm created travel concerns and they decided on leaving a day earlier. Lexi bites her lip. Nico must not have had the conversation she recommended he have at bedtime last night. Lexi had found him asleep in Mack’s bed. She assumed he had made it to Lucie before falling asleep. Clearly not.

“Daddy’s schedule changed last minute. I know that is disappointing. He wanted to be here though.” Lexi tries to soothe as much as she can.

“Did you video it for him?”

“Yes, me and auntie Em.”

“Okay.” Lucie sighs. Lexi helps Lucie put her winter coat and boots on, then with the whole family, they head to a diner for burgers, malts, and fries to celebrate.

Lucie is in bed after her bath that night when Lexi comes in with her phone. She sees it in Lucie’s lap, then leaves the room, down the hall to one of her sisters who is crying.

“Hi sweets.” Lucie looks down, seeing her dad on the screen. “I am so sorry I missed your recital today.” He says. “I know I told you I would be there. That was the plan. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.” Lucie nods. Silence fills the room as Nico waits for her to say something. She refuses. “I know you’re hurt, sweets. But when I get home, can we watch the video together?” Tears form in Lucie’s eyes. She nods as they track down her cheeks.

1,000 miles away, Nico's heart breaks into that many pieces.

#what my world spins around au

21 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 2 years ago

Text

A/n: There's not nearly enough dad Josty content on this app so here's this little piece. No idea what to name it but I hope y'all enjoy it!

Pairing: Tyson Jost x female reader

Warnings: none (mentions of the tr*de but other than that it's just fluff )

Tyson's flight arrives late. The first cold front of the season has moved in over the weekend, settled over Minnesota and casted everything in a bitter chill. The storm isn't bad enough to delay the flight but just enough to slow them down. The estimated arrival of 7 p.m. had fallen back to closer to midnight and any hope he had of spending time with his family tonight flew out the window. He knows the schedule, has it memorized and saved in his phone just in case. Bedtime was 8:30 sometimes 9 if the baby slept a lot that day. He missed that window by about three hours and has a feeling he'll be coming home to a dark, slumbering house tonight.

Even so he was anxious to get home, barely mumbling goodbyes to Duhaime and Boldy as he was gathering his suitcase and duffle before beelining towards his car. He's barely thrown on his seatbelt and turned on the heater before he's pulling out of his spot and hitting the mostly empty highway, beginning the unbearably long journey home (it's really not that far of a drive, maybe 30 minutes with traffic, but tonight it feels like he was moving at a snail's pace). His eye catches the car seat in the rearview mirror and he glances back behind his passenger seat to see the stuffed moose she loves laying on the seat. Pressing a little harder on the gas, he attempts to distract himself with the radio, finding the Christmas station and turning up the volume until it'll all he can hear. Halloween has just barely crept by and you may tease him for how quickly he moves into Christmas mode but he doesn't care. American Thanksgiving isn't something he really cares about (and really no one should care about it in the way they do) so he's unashamed in his holiday spirit.

He's only registered about a song and a half in his brain before he's pulling into the parking garage of the building, gaze searching the concrete complex for your vehicle. He finds it immediately, the faded Avs sticker on the back window sticking out like a sore thumb, and his parking spot empty besides yours.

Tyson wastes no time in pulling into the spot and shutting the engine off. He ignores the bags in the back as he collects his wallet and keys, hastily climbing out of the vehicle and beelining for the elevator. He barely has the sense to lock the car over his shoulder as he impatiently taps at the up button. And he's just as impatient when the doors open, Tyson stepping in and immediately pressing the button for the penthouse.

Counting the dinging floors in his head, Tyson taps the toe of his shoe as the elevator climbs up and up, bringing him to you. When the doors finally open he's greeted with the dark green front door of your place, welcome mat beckoning him closer.

"You decorated." He murmurs into your lips, smiling.

"Yeah. Figured you'd like it."

He nods and momentarily kisses you again. "I do. Know I love Christmas."

"Considerate it a gift for that fight of yours."

He pulls back to get a better look at your face, notices the teasing smile on your lips and quirks a curious eyebrow.

"Ya liked that, eh?"

You bite your bottom lip and giggle quietly, dropping your hands to rest on his shoulders. "Loved it. You should fight assholes more often."

He laughs then too, but shrugs as if it were no big deal. "Making the world a better place for my daughter one Blackhawk at a time."

Just as he expected, you laugh a bit louder at that and he finds himself reaching up to caress your smiling face for just a moment.

"Edmonton next maybe?"

He wants to laugh at your rebuttal but his loyalty to his childhood team weighs heavier so he pouts instead and joking whines, "Hey...."

You cut him off with a kiss to his cheek, stroking the side of his neck lovingly and watching the way his eyes flutter shut for a beat. As soon as he meets your gaze again, you nudge your head towards the other side of the couch.

"Your muse is patiently awaiting her glove dropping daddy."

Tyson perks up even more at that, already looking over your shoulder to the playpen he had set up before he left. "She's up?"

"No," You say sweetly, running your thumb over his jaw, before stepping back and removing your hands from him "but you can wake her if you promise to get her back to sleep."

He doesn't hesitate to nudge you to the side so he can cut across the living room, stepping over the extra Christmas blankets and pillows you've left on the floor. He reaches the play pen, a smile taking over his face as he peers down at his sleeping baby. She's bundled in the sleep sack Tyson's mom gifted them, the fabric fisted in one of her tiny hands while she drools on the other.

He almost feels bad for wanting to wake her, to see those big brown eyes she'd stolen from him and kiss the little button nose that matches yours, but it's been so long since he's seen her and he thinks he's starting to forgot what it felt like to have her curled into his chest. Eager but gentle, Tyson reaches down and slips a hand under her bottom and head, carefully bringing her up into his arms.

"Hi sweet girl," he whispers, wincing when her face scrunches up for a moment. He's waiting for a cry to erupt from her but she just settles into the crook of his elbow, nosing her face into the fabric of his sweatshirt. "Oh look at you."

He turns to find you admiring them with a watery smile, eyes shining in the twinkling Christmas lights with tears you've had a hard time stopping ever since you were pregnant. Despite how emotional you've become, he doesn't worry because he can read it all over your face that they're happy tears, probably even relieved tears. He knew how nervous you were for his first long road trip, the both of you so used to being side-by-side and he's sure that the weight he felt lift off of him earlier has now left you too.

"Come here," he murmurs to you, outstretching his left arm and wiggling his fingers. You let him pull you into his chest too, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and laying your head on his shoulder. Like the baby girl snoring in his arm, you burrow into his sweater, your nose slipping under the bunched fabric of his hood. He can't help but smile.

"You did it babe," he soothes, tickling his fingers down your spine. "This parenting thing is working out pretty good, eh?"

He feels you nod, pulling you in tighter just to remind you that he's always got you, and you return the sentiment by slipping your fingers under his hoodie and shirt, warm fingers ghosting over the soft skin of his back.

"Its good to know we can survive your away games," you whisper, titling your head down to admire your daughter. "but we prefer when you're here."

He laughs a bit, feels his chest swell up with pride and somehow pulls you even closer when you look up and steal a kiss from his lips.

Tyson hums his agreement. "Me too baby. Missed my girls so much."

He's lost in you for a moment or two, taking in the warmth of your gaze and the smell of your honey perfume. You've got purple bags under your eyes, you're smile lazy at the corners but even when the obvious exhaustion on your features you look happy and he can't think of a better look on you. He likes when you're happy, in general, but especially when you're with him.

Leaning in, Tyson butts his nose against yours before pressing a delicate kiss to your cheekbone. That smile he loves so much grows, you're eyes fluttering shut and he inches closer to your lips-

A tiny hands tugs at the string in his hoodie, yanking until the collar tightens uncomfortably around his neck and his hood sits at an awkward angle on his shoulders. You laugh softly as a loud cry breaks out, demanding his attention, and he reluctantly let's you take a step back.

"Oh no dad," you tease, poking at his side "someone's not happy with you."

He huffs out a laugh, moving the baby so she's sitting up against his shoulder. Patting at her back, Tyson begins to walk her in circles around the living room as you disappear into the kitchen. Her cries quickly quiet to sniffles, little hiccups echoing in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of her head, smiling at how soft her thin brown hair is and how long it's gotten in his short time away.

"Don't be mad at me sweetheart," he pleads "I just missed you so much."

She turns to him, entrapped by the sound of his voice. Her cheeks and nose are red and moist, mouth puckered into a frown but those big brown eyes look at him with awe, the way they always have. From the moment she was born she knew his voice, familiar with it after countless nights of him telling her silly little stories and game summaries through whatever oversized t-shirt you'd stolen from him as a substitute for your maternity clothes. He smiles at her, hooks the sleeve of his hoodie over his fingers and wipes away the mess of tears and dribble on her little face.

"There she is!" He coos, booping her nose "ya miss me too, eh? Watch my games with momma? Bet you helped her put up all these lights too huh?"

She kicks her legs into his side, the frown on her face melting away as she hangs on his every word. Afraid she'll begin wailing again if he stops, Tyson keeps babbling nonsense to her.

"The boys kept asking for you. Want me to take you practice in a couple days but I don't think I want to share my special girl. Plus momma won't let you wear Minny colors and they'll try and put you in a jersey I just know it-"

"You keep my baby far away from Dewey and those other crazies," you say upon returning to the living room, a bottle of warmed breast milk in hand "They're gonna try and convince her Marcus is the moose and I won't have that."

Tyson laughs, knowing if he really wanted to take her to practice you'd allow it and you'd even let her wear the #10 onesie Jared had gifted her after the trade. As if agreeing with you, she babbles happily and he wonders if she's just excited to see her baba or if she recognizes the nickname of her favorite uncle Mikko.

You hand him the bottle, kissing his cheek and then hers before returning to sorting through Christmas boxes. Tyson settles into the empty spot on the couch, cradling her in the crook of his elbow again.

"Ladies sticking together I see," he tells her, chuckling when he brings the bottle to her lips and she eagerly grabs at it. She hasn't quite got the hang of holding it herself, but she loves fidgeting with his fingers as he feeds her, stroking over his knuckles and pinching at the back of his hand.

"That's good," he continues "Momma needs all the backup she can get. Me and your uncles are a bit of a handful."

He looks up when you laugh, watching you work to untangle a ball of multicolored lights. "A bit? I'm just thankful I'm not surrounded by another boy."

He grins. "Yet."

You raise an eyebrow at him, lips pursed in amusement for a second before shrugging. "No boys yet."

"But soon," he presses "right?"

He adjusts his grip on the bottle, still grinning innocently as you roll your eyes but nod.

"Soon."

He waits a beat, let's your attention go back to the mess of lights in your lap before continuing.

"Like tomorrow maybe?"

"Don't push it Jost." You warn.

"What if I put it on my Christmas list?"

"You're a grown man and a father, you don't get a Christmas list."

"Fine. For my winter solstice wish then."

He chuckles at the look on your face, a bit annoyed but more amused.

"Keep bugging and it'll get left off your birthday list too Tyson."

He pouts dramatically, waits for you to peer up at him through your eyelashes before flashing his best puppy dog eyes at you. You drop your left eye into a wink, teasingly and he feels heat rush to his cheeks.

God he's glad to be home.

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost #josty baby #dad! Tyson Jost #fluff #nhl #nhl imagine

346 notes · View notes

sleepless-in-starbucks · 3 years ago

Text

I Want Us Both to Eat Well

Ao3

Summary: Remy might not be great with self-care, but they've got the 'taking care of Logan' thing down to a science. And Logan can work with that. Content: Overworking, mentions of poor eating/sleeping habits, caretaking, it’s pretty soft overall, nonbinary remy Pairing: Losleep

Despite what some may think, Logan didn’t have the most demanding of jobs within the mindscape. He wouldn’t call his work a walk in the park, of course, but when he was largely tasked with matters such as scheduling and memory allocation, versus such things as emotional processing or idea creation, Logan had no plans on complaining.

And Logan’s most complicated job? Even less complaints to be figuratively filled, given it was his favorite.

See, for a good while now, Logan had been dating Remy, a figment of the Imagination created by Roman for a one-time vine gag that somehow managed to get enough permanence for themself to function as their own being. For a bit, they had simply wandered about, teasingly flirting with not only the sides but Thomas himself. Something about Logan must have held their attention however, because soon enough he was the only side being ‘bothered’.

It didn’t take long for the feelings of ‘botherment’ to morph into amusement, which furthermore transformed into affection and soon even love. Remy had made a bad attempt at celestial flirting, and despite the inaccuracies, Logan had greatly appreciated the sentiment.

Appreciated it enough to allow “I love you” to escape both his thoughts and mouth, an acknowledgement that had left the two of them in similar states of shock for a whole ten seconds before Remy was in Logan’s lap and doing their damndest to kiss him breathless.

Remy only became more cemented in the inner workings of Thomas’s mind after that, likely a consequence specifically of how much time they were spending in Logan’s room. They were still a figment, but they were rapidly gaining actual responsibilities, things they had to do or else Thomas would directly suffer. Most were connected to sleeping- making sure the sides were rested, bullying Thomas to bed when needed, lining up memories as appropriate to be saved and stored during REM- but some were simply random, the misc assignments settling onto the not-a-side.

Usually, Remy could manage it all without much issue. They would complain heavily, sure, bemoaning the days when they were a free-spirit with nothing to do, almost sounding like Roman when they spoke of the cruelty of fate that such was the price of love, but as long as Logan was there to hum sympathetically and play with their hair, they were good.

Occasionally however… it was too much. Too many late nights and sleepless mornings convincing others to rest, too many memories to pick between and sort, too many tasks all piling up. Remy would get overwhelmed and end up overworked if no one stopped them in time.

Luckily for Remy… they had Logan.

Figuring out that Remy had hit their breaking point wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, the first step of Logan’s ‘job’ therefore being the most difficult. Remy, for all their bellyaching, didn’t want to be perceived as a slacker or irresponsible with their job. With sunglasses, coffee, and their devil-may-care attitude, they could normally fake being alright for a day or two past actually being alright.

But the facade always cracked in the end, and as soon as it did, Logan was there.

So, the second step, taken once Logan recognized those cracks: eat a good and filling breakfast. This step was especially important, and made the list to remind Logan that a coffee and crofters-covered bagel wouldn’t be sufficient.

Next, Logan went about assigning Remy’s usual tasks to the other sides. To Virgil and Patton, enforcing Thomas’s bedtime. To Janus, memory dealings. To Roman and Remus, whichever various misc tasks Remy had at the time. And top it all off with a lecture to the lot of them to sleep well.

(Logan always expected some resistance on this step, and was always surprised to find none. “If you say they need a break, they need a break.” Virgil said one time with a shrug. “We want to help where we can.”)

Then there came the final step: convincing Remy to take a break. To most, this would be the hardest step. Even when all their work was attended to, Remy would insist they had things to do, that they couldn’t just take a break, especially not one as long as Logan would suggest.

Logan wasn’t ‘most’.

Before Logan entered his room (or, more accurately, his and Remy’s room, the figment not having a place outside of the Imagination and therefore opting to move into Logan’s), he double checked that everything was ready.

Breakfast? Eaten.

Time? Well past noon.

Work? Distributed.

Tie? Loosened.

Shirt? Untucked.

“Hotel? Trivago.” (vocabulary cards!)

Logan let himself into his (now shared) room. Remy was sprawled across his (now shared) bed, flipping through their own notecards- the form memories took when viewed within the logical side’s room. Their sunglasses were set aside on Logan’s (now shared) desk, making it easy for Logan to spot the dark bags beneath their eyes.

They glanced up when Logan entered, cocking an eyebrow as they took in his appearance. “You’ve looked better, babe.” Remy commented lightly, though Logan could hear the concern in their voice. “You here to crash? I can move.”

Logan didn’t answer right away, instead walking over to stand in front of Remy. Before his partner could guess what he was doing, Logan had grabbed the memory cards they were sorting, easily willing them away.

Remy’s eyebrow only raised higher. “Alright, yeah, someone needs to take a nap.”

“And that someone would be you.” Logan replied. “Or, more appropriately, someone needs to take several days to rest.”

Remy chuckled. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I wouldn’t think you’d want me falling behind on work, especially for Thomas’s sake.”

“Your work is being handled, Thomas will be fine.” Logan assured, taking a moment to tenderly tuck some of Remy’s hair behind their ear. Remy’s expression softened at the gesture. “I have taken care of everything for you, save one thing.”

“Oh?” Remy prompted, looking vaguely amused by Logan’s approach. “And what’s that one thing, doll?”

With a smile, Logan settled himself in Remy’s lap, arms wrapping lightly around the back of their neck. “Myself.”

Remy’s brow furrowed at the answer, their concern returning full force. “Log-”

“I have not eaten since breakfast,” he neglected to mention it was a large enough breakfast the lack of lunch hadn’t truly affected him, “I am stressed,” he ignored that the stress was Remy-based, “and my appearance is unkempt;” he pretended this was not a very conscious choice, “therefore, I should be resting, and yet, I am not.”

“You do seem tired…” Remy murmured, one of their hands moving to rest steadily on Logan’s hip while the other gently cupped his cheek. Logan appreciated the moment as long as he could, lazily leaning into Remy’s touch while the overworked figment searched his face for more signs of exhaustion.

Then they squinted at him. “Wait. This isn’t some ploy of yours, is it? ‘Cause no offense hun, but this feels a bit too easy. Normally you go running when I try to stop you from working on bad days.”

“I admit I am usually more… difficult about such matters, but I assure you, my love, this is no ploy. That would imply only I benefit from this situation. I think we both would.”

“Oh? How so?”

Logan’s fingers traced random patterns on Remy’s upper back. “You prefer to see me in good health and enjoy taking care of me. I prefer to see you in good health and know that letting you take care of me will subsequently lead to you being taken care of as well.” He kissed Remy’s forehead. “We both benefit, for the sake of not only ourselves, but each other as well.”

Remy sighed, their attempt at annoyance falling rather flat, in Logan’s opinion. “I can tell you’ve planned this out, babe.” Their hand on Logan’s cheek slipped into his hair, lightly scratching at Logan’s scalp.

The logical side involuntarily let out a content hum at the motion, briefly letting his eyes close as he pressed closer against Remy, their hand now supporting more of his head than Logan was. “Mhm, the plan of self-care? I think it’s a good plan.” Logan partially opened his eyes to catch Remy’s gaze. It was fond and sweet, Remy having clearly been swayed by tired Logan. “Do you think it’s a good plan?”

“Yeah.” Remy agreed softly, Logan grinning as he realized he had ‘won’ (really, they had both won, seeing how desperately Remy needed rest, but for the intents and purposes of this particular situation… Logan had won). “It was a great plan, angel.”

Logan allowed his head to be transferred onto Remy’s shoulder, happily nestling it into the crook of their neck. He could feel as Remy shifted their position, clearly going to lay Logan down on the bed. However, the bed alone would not be enough, Logan locking his arms behind Remy’s neck when they tried to let him go.

“Oh, come on, sugar, I can’t- I need both my hands- oh, alright, fine, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll make it work.”

It took a couple minutes longer than it might have if Logan had allowed Remy to let go of him, but soon enough Logan was being deposited in a proper pile of blankets and pillows, all packed in together and arranged in the corner of the bed that lined up against the corner of the wall. He released Remy this time, comfortably sinking into the heap.

“I’m happy you’ve deemed this arrangement of your bed more acceptable than the one you yourself made, sweetheart.” Remy teased even as they worked on tucking the pile closer around him. “I’m going to grab lunch now, alright? Don’t go anywhere.”

It was an unnecessary request, given that Logan’s master plan of self-care wouldn’t benefit from him making Remy hunt him down, but the familiarity of it made Logan snort. The blanket-pillow lump had a one hundred percent success-rate with dissuading Logan from escape, no matter the circumstance, but Remy’s consistency in reminding Logan to stay put was endearing every time.

Remy returned within a few minutes, carrying a plate filled with ham and cheese cubes and some bunches of purple grapes. They placed it on part of the bed not overtaken by the plush pile before carefully climbing over it, cautious to not make a mess as they joined Logan. They slid into place behind him with practiced ease, shifting Logan to be more in their lap and against their chest before tucking the blankets back in around them both.

Logan leaned back against Remy as they settled, resting his head at a tilted angle so that he could keep his eyes on Remy. Noticing this, Remy smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Logan’s forehead.

“Alright babe who hasn’t eaten since breakfast, time to eat.” Remy said, tugging the plate closer to them before picking up one of the cubes and offering it to Logan. He let Remy pop it in his mouth, swallowing it while Remy grabbed another morsel of food. The motions were easy and repetitive, and soon enough nearly half the plate was gone.

Breaking the skin on a grape, Logan caught Remy’s wrist as they went to offer him a ham cube. Remy raised an eyebrow. “Darlin’?”

“You need to eat too.” Logan explained, nudging Remy’s hand towards their own face. “I know how you get when you’re busy.”

“Well now you’re not even being subtle.” Remy teased even as they accepted their redirected ham cube. Alternating between themself and Logan, Remy returned to their work of emptying the plate, quickly finishing off what remained of it.

When there was nothing left on the dish, Remy gracelessly pushed it off the bed, Logan well aware they’d pick it up later but still rolling his eyes at the laziness in the gesture.

“Shh, I can hear you thinking, love.” Remy trailed a few kisses down the side of Logan’s face, their arms wrapping snugly around his waist. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up later. Don’t worry about it.”

“You could take care of it now though.” Logan argued weakly, already once-more melting into Remy’s hold.

Remy chuckled, peppering more kisses across his chin. “Then I’d have to let go of you, my lovely Lo, and I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

“Mmm, fair point.”

“Plus,” Remy went on as they began to slide into a more horizontal position, laying Logan down with them and briefly releasing his waist so as to move his glasses from his face to the bedside table, “it’s naptime. Someone needs their rest.”

“You.”

“Which one of us is taking care of the other again? You’re the tired one.”

Logan laughed quietly at Remy’s rebuttal, rolling over and nuzzling his face into Remy’s neck. He wasn’t sure when the lights in the room had turned off, but he was fairly certain it had been Remy’s doing. “Fine. I am very tired. So tired I have completely forgotten what to do now. Remind me how to sleep.”

“Dramatic-ass.” Remy’s tone was too soft to match their words. They pressed their cheek against Logan’s hair, their breath as they spoke close enough for Logan to feel its warmth. “You’ve just gotta close your eyes and stop thinking about anything that isn’t your wonderful partner and their wonderful fluffy pile of comfort and relaxation.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Logan dropped a kiss on Remy’s collarbone. “I could do this for days and days and-”

“Shhhh, starlight. Rest.” Remy slowly ran a hand up-and-down Logan’s back, successfully distracting him from his poorly-veiled (but loving) jab at Remy. “Bully me later.”

Logan didn’t respond verbally, opting instead to hum in contentment and snuggle up closer to Remy. There was no way they’d be able to slip out of bed without Logan noticing- not that they’d try, not now, but Logan appreciated the assurance of proximity. Despite not truly being tired, Remy’s warmth and Logan’s relief at knowing they would finally be resting themself were enough to make his eyelids heavy, the idea of sleeping peacefully with his partner too tempting to pass up.

So, yes, Logan did have some difficult duties to attend to, the caretaking of Remy the most complicated of them all. But drifting off happily in Remy’s arms, Logan remained firm in his stance that it was his favorite duty.

#losleep #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #fanfiction #fanfic #ts fanfic #sanders sides #nb!remy #i hope y'all like this but 's okay if not bc it is- per the usual- v self indulgent sldjfmvksdl #i think it came out good tho

156 notes · View notes

moonlightlullaby · 3 years ago

Text

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!)

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist.

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is.

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair.

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me.

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen.

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is.

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words.

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp.

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath.

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds.

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task.

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie.

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul.

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n”

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully.

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?”

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?”

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered.

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise.

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions.

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-”

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen.

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

#corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x y/n

100 notes · View notes

chockfullofsecrets · 3 years ago

Text

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic

97 notes · View notes

astranva · 4 years ago

Text

Not One of Them.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 9.9k

Category: Fluff, single mom!Y/N

Warning: Some strong language. Slight mention of abortion. Not proof-read.

Note: time-skip to when covid-19 is dead ok

Summary: Harry is lyrically stuck, Y/N is the new big songwriter. She’s also a single mom to a 4-year-old girl.

Early italics are flashbacks.

When you’re a young mother, the world isn’t always the kindest, especially when no partner is in the picture.

While you were young, having had baby Faith when you were only 21, you applauded yourself for years for the effort you poured into raising a child alone – with the help of family and friends, and too many books and videos, but you get the point.

Faith wasn’t a mistake, you hate it when anyone even dares to imply so, but she was unplanned. You were in a toxic on-and-off relationship for 3 years, at some point believing that it might have been an open relationship because of the amount of times you caught your ex-boyfriend flirting with women and men right in front of you.

You had done your part after knowing that you were pregnant after one drunken night that led to a rough make-up session. You approached your ex, sat him down and broke the news;

“I’m pregnant.”

“Whose is it?” He had asked, face falling.

Yours scrunched up in anger, almost disgust at the implication. “Yours, you dumb-fuck! I don’t sleep around while I’m in a relationship like some people.” You had emphasized.

He ignored your comment, releasing a sigh. “You aren’t keeping it, are you?”

You were never against abortion. You were never against planned pregnancy. You had freaked out alright on your own when you were confirmed pregnant, but something inside you told you to hold on to the human inside of you, to that little bundle of oblivion – a little bundle of faith.

It was when he asked you that one question, his tone almost sure that you would abort the child, that you felt angry tears pool your eyes. “I am.”

He wasn’t ready to hear it and his wide eyes showed that, “Wh-What do you mean you are? I can’t have a fucking baby! This wasn’t supposed to get this real!”

“This real?” You had chuckled bitterly, “You stay with me for 3 years, fuck me over more than I can count then you always come crying for me, then tell me it wasn’t supposed to get this real?” You stood up, draping your bag over your shoulder, “I’m having the kid, Will. It’s over between us and-“ you gulped, swallowing back the tears as you pointed at him, “I never want to see you again.”

“You bet your fucking ass you won’t.” He had grumbled, tearing eye contact to look somewhere else but your death glare before you left.

Besides the university halls, Will had managed to stay out of your sight and you were grateful for that. Pregnancy was a roller-coaster, one you definitely screamed during all ride of, but nothing and nobody prepared you for the moment when you gave birth to your little love.

Your roommate and best friend, Cece, had driven you to the hospital and notified the rest of your family and friends, and you were glad that during that very period of time, you had someone beside you.

It was when you held your little love that it all faded away; the pain, the loss, the confusion, the fright – everything faded away the moment your skin made contact with your daughter’s, watching her with pure love and admiration.

You hadn’t picked a name before that moment, only nodding and smiling to the showering of recommendation from people, but one name wasn’t recommended, not even mentioned.

“Faith. You’re my little Faith.”

“You’re looking a little sick, honey. Have you been eating well? You overwork yourself-”

“Mom, mom,” you laughed quietly, tearing your eyes from watching your daughter play with her cousins before looking at your mom beside you, “I’m alright. Last project was challenging, that’s all.”

“Who were you writing for this time?” your mom asked with pride and excitement, curious to know the name of yet another big celebrity her daughter had been working with.

“Adele.” You smirked as you sipped your juice, hearing your mom gasp with a hand to her heart before letting out a small squeal.

In her dungarees and sandals, Faith ran towards you, making you set your juice aside to welcome your daughter in your arms. “Mommy, did you see me win Tag?”

“Yes! You were amazing!” You hyped your daughter up, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, making Faith giggle.

With Faith standing between your legs, talking to her grandma, you checked your watch. “Ah, shoot. I better get going.”

“Will you be here for bedtime story?” Faith asked, looking up at you as you slung on your tote bag and held your car key in one hand before kneeling in front of your daughter.

“I will be, baby. Don’t give Nana a hard time, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I love you.” With one last hug and a kiss on her cheek, you smiled at your daughter who clung to your neck, pressing a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“I love you.” Faith replied, moving to stand with her nephew after waving at you as you left.

“Call me at any time if anything happens or if you need anything, Mom, yeah?” You said as you walked towards the door, your mother following behind.

“Wouldn’t want to disturb your wo-”

“Mom.” You stressed, turning to look at your mom, “Nothing like that. I’ll get going. Thank you for watching her.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. You know I love spending time with little Faith more than anything. Drive safely, honey.”

“Hey, Andrew, got you a donut.” You beamed as you approached the studio’s receptionist, a 19-year-old intern.

“You’re an angel.” Andrew sighed in contentment as he opened the box containing his donut before looking at you, “Just adopt me. I guarantee I’ll be the best brother to Faith.”

You laughed, “Think having a 19-year-old son will make me feel old. I’ll pass.”

“Dammit.” Andrew shook his head jokingly. “Meeting with Jeffery Azoff, huh?”

“Yeah, do you know if he got here yet?”

“Like 3 minutes ago.”

You checked your watch again, finding that it was just on time for your scheduled meeting, feeling glad that you weren’t late.

“Alright, I’ll see you on the way out.” You waved at Andrew who nodded at you while raising his donut before you set off down the hall and into the elevator.

Walking out and down the hallway, you approached the room you had agreed to meet Jeffrey in before knocking softly, hearing a distant “come in!”

Gently opening the door and sticking your head inside, your eyes moved to the couch where 2 men looked up at you; one was Jeffrey – you had seen pictures of him from when you worked once with his father – and the other was, undoubtedly in your mind, none other than Harry Styles.

“Y/N?” Jeff asked, him and Harry standing as you walked in and closed the door behind you, approaching them.

“Yes,” you smiled, reaching for a handshake which he had happily accepted, “It’s great meeting you.”

Harry’s eyes were set on you, a small smile on his face that did everything but mirror the surprise he felt. He wasn’t sure why; he didn’t have any expectations but he certainly didn’t expect to see someone as radiant as you were.

You looked at him next with a polite smile as you reached for a handshake, “Pleasure meeting you. I’m a huge fan of your work.”

And God, his stomach flipped and his face flushed at the comment, feeling shy under your gaze as he shook your hand, “Thank you so much. Can say the same about your work, you’re very talented.”

“Thanks!” You beamed before motioning towards the couch, the 3 of you sitting down; Harry and Jeff on the couch, you on a chair across from them. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, thanks. Had the biggest cup of coffee just before coming here.” Jeff replied.

You turned to look at Harry, smiling and nodding when he raised his bottle of water.

“Alright, let’s get into it,” you leaned forward, “How can I help you?”

Jeff looked at Harry, signaling for him to talk.

“I know it hasn’t been a year since I released Fine Line,” Harry moved his hands as he talked, looking at the carpeted floor underneath him before looking up at you, “But I’ve been writing ever since but- something is missing. Something is wrong. I wrote 9 tracks so far, all of them are unfinished because I just feel like they’re missing something. I have the idea, have the concepts, sometimes I have the tunes,” he counted on his fingers, “But I can’t finish one song. It’s like I’m, like,” he shrugged, trying to find the right word.

“Stuck?” You suggested, staring at him with an assuring expression which he found soothing.

Harry’s body slumped, tilting his head slightly as he looked back at you and a soft, small smile made its way to his face at how you understood. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah, stuck. That’s the word.”

“I get you,” you assured him, “Do you guys have any sort of deadline?”

“No, not really, no. Not yet.” Jeff shook his head.

“Great,” you clapped, your eyebrows going up, “Do you have any of these tracks’ lyrics now?”

“Yeah, lemme just-“ Harry reached beside him, holding his tote bag to take out his journal.

“Hey!” You grinned, grabbing his attention and making him look at you, seeing you holding out your tote bag to him.

You matched; right on the fabric in the middle was an illustrated design of a small cactus plant pot.

“I have the same one!” You looked down at yours before looking at him, Harry mirroring your actions before a grin broke out on his face.

“Well then, Y/N, it’s set. These will be the best songwriting sessions of the century. It’s fate.” He said dramatically in a joking manner, making you laugh quietly as you set your bag aside and he fished out his journal.

Flipping through the pages, he handed you his journal so you can see one of the songs he had half-written, watching as leaned back on the comfy chair, holding the journal in your hands and reading.

It was excruciating. Harry grew nervous, feeling funny in his stomach and he tried to convince himself that it might be the salad he had eaten prior to that meeting, and not that he was nervous you’d think he was the worst songwriter to-date.

He watched your eyes, taking notice of how you didn’t skim through the words, but read them carefully and taking your time to do so.

“This is really beautiful, Harry.” You said softly, eyes still on the page before looking up at him, oblivious to the breath Harry let out, “Really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, discreetly wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Not much damage really. The concept is clear. Post-breakup song.” You said, handing him his journal.

Harry nodded, confirming.

“Are the rest like that, too?”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head, “Figured that the last album had too many of that.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I understand. Just- I say take your time, honestly. I’ll help you with the songs you have, maybe we’d get inspired along the way to write new stuff, too, but you don’t want to force anything, you know? Sometimes some lyrics just aren’t meant to be, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded.

“Don’t you worry,” you gave him a smile, “It’ll all work out.”

“Well, so do we have a deal?” Jeff asked with a smile, opening his arms.

“I’m in.”

Maybe it was because you said that as you looked at him, or maybe it was because he knew of how crazy talented you were – he had spoken to his good friend Ed Sheeran a week prior and Ed had sworn up and down on your talent and how “bloody lovely! Like a little bird” you were – or maybe it your smile – hell, it might be a combination of all that, but Harry was ecstatic to work with you.

“I’m very excited to work with you, Y/N.” Harry had said with a smile of his own.

“Likewise, Harry. It isn’t that common to find artists as real as you are.”

God, what was with your compliments that had him blushing?

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N,” Jeff, too, had said. “Let’s talk busi-”

“Let’s do that over lunch.” You pointed at him, standing up, “My treat.”

“You always this friendly with clients?” Harry joked with an amused smile, staring up at you.

But your smile dropped and instead, your face twisted to worry. “Oh God, I hope I’m not stepping boundaries. It’s just always a good idea to warm up to each other and- I’m sorry, you probably think this is unpro-”

“Hey, hey, no,” Harry was quick to stand, holding his hands out, “I didn’t mean it like that. I genuinely think you’re friendly. Half of the songwriters I worked with were strict and- Shit, no. Lunch sounds wonderful. Really wonderful.”

He felt like an ass. A proper one. He hadn’t meant to make you feel like you were too friendly but that didn’t turn out as well as he had thought.

“We’d love to, really. Besides, it’s probably a great idea that you and Harry know each other so the sessions can go smooth.” Jeff added, standing up.

At this, Harry found himself smiling when the smile returned to your face. “In that case, there’s a place nearby that makes amazing sandwiches and desserts.”

Jeff’s mind was squeaking from its gears working. There weren’t many people on this planet who were purely kind, and it was something he admired in Harry. But at that moment, Jeff knew he had met one more person who was genuinely kind, just like his best friend and “client” – he hated calling Harry that – and it was proof when you insisted that you could give them a ride to and from the place instead of them following behind you or using the GPS, Jeff sitting in the passenger seat during the ride to the place while Harry sat at the back.

The place was a 5-tabeled one, nothing big. One wall was decorated with polaroids of customers, the waiters and waitresses, the chefs, and another with colorful stick-notes with messages from customers. It was a lowkey place, one that Harry hadn’t visited during all his trips to the studio until that moment.

“Hey, Y/N!” The woman behind the counter beamed as she waved.

“Hi, Soph! How are you?”

Soph stood from the chair she was sitting on, taking a few steps back to show her pregnant bump, putting one hand to it, “Ready to pop!”

You had motioned towards a table to Harry and Jeff who were quietly watching the interaction.

You gasped, “Look at you! And you’re still coming to work? What a queen.”

Soph shrugged, sitting back down, “Got mouths to feed and a self to pamper.” She said before waving at Harry and Jeff, “Hello, gentlemen.”

Jeff waved with a smile while Harry added, “Hello! Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles.” Soph replied.

Harry liked it. The no-freaking-out. How homey it all felt.

“Rick will be with you in a sec.” Soph said.

You, Harry, and Jeff sat on the circular table, both Harry and you hanging your tote bags on their chairs.

“You come here often, huh?” Harry started the conversation, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“You have no idea. You’d think I don’t know anywhere else.” You chuckled, “Been coming here ever since I was in college.”

Harry’s eyebrows went up in surprise, “Really? How long ago was that?”

“Graduated 3 years ago, first came when I was 19 so that’s about 6 years.”

“True loyal customer you are.” Harry said.

“What did you study, Y/N?” Jeff asked.

“Music composition. Was the disgrace of the family.” You joked, “Definitely had no idea the entire time if I would actually work or not.”

“But look at you now, one of the best.” Harry motioned towards you.

You waved him off with a bashful smile, “None of that. I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, I just get paid now.”

“Who even knows what they’re doing now?” Harry rhetorically asked, “We’re just, going with the flow.”

“Word, sir. Word.” They heard, the 3 of them turning to see the waiter – Rick – by their table.

Harry laughed, “Right?”

“Absolutely. I don’t remember the last time my plans didn’t get fucked. Just riding now.” Rick shrugged.

Harry raised his fist up for a bump, Rick bumping his fist into Harry’s.

Time seemed to pass as Harry and Jeff let you order for them, talking about the music industry and sharing funny stories while at it, as well as you had discussed your own business as you ate the club sandwiches and sipped on the iced tea.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a funny face as Harry took out his wallet after you had asked for the check.

“Paying?”

“Yeah, no. Said it’d be my treat.” You pointed at him, raising one eyebrow with a smile.

“Come on, I can’t just let you pay for us on the first day we meet.”

“Let’s at least split the bill.” Jeff suggested, watching as you shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” And with that, you stood up and walked towards Soph, paying for the food.

“How much do you want to bet that something will happen between the both of you?” Jeff asked quickly with a smirk, looking at Harry with a knowing look.

Harry’s eyes widened, tearing his gaze from being on you to his friend and manager, “What?”

“How much?”

“I just met her.” Harry tried to reason with him, finding Jeff to be bizarre and irrational. Hopeful, but irrational.

Jeff only gave him a shrug, “That’s a first.”

“That’s enough rom-coms at night for you, Jeffrey.”

At the sight of you walking back towards them, they both stopped talking and instead, smiled. “All sorted.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You really didn’t have to.” Harry stood, slinging his tote bag on his shoulder.

“I wanted to. Please don’t mention it.” You had smiled as you replied, the 3 of you putting back your chairs. “Bye, Soph!”

“Bye, sweetie!”

“Congratulations again on your pregnancy and good luck.” Harry put both hands together, pursing his lips into a polite smile at the woman behind the counter.

“You’re a sweetheart. Thank you, kind sir.” Soph joked, tipping an imaginary hat at him to which Harry responded to by holding up the tips of his imaginary skirt, putting one foot behind the other in a curtsy making you giggle.

With no spoken words, Jeff was quick to get into the backseat, pursing his lips to stifle his laughter at Harry’s face, who looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that screamed “What the fuck are you doing?” but he got into the passenger seat nonetheless, oblivious to the light shade of red that visited his cheeks but aware of the heat his face seemed to radiate.

The ride back to the studio wasn’t quiet. The radio was on for some background music but you and Harry were too engaged in a conversation to take notice of the songs playing. Anyone could have asked you what even started the conversation of French toast and you wouldn’t know how to reply because none of you knew how you suddenly began talking about French toast.

“Have you tried soaking the toast in lemon?” You asked, tone excited and face breaking into an eager smile.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Haven’t, no. How good is it?”

“God, it’s,” you shook your head, almost closing your eyes in delight as if you tasted the toast that moment but refrained because you were driving, “It’s so good.”

So what Harry secretly wished the ride was longer? He wanted to talk about French toast. That was definitely why.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure working with you.” Jeff said, “Thank you for the food.”

“It’s no problem.” You smiled at him, turning around to look at him once you were parked.

“I’ll wait for you in the car.” Jeff said, patting Harry’s shoulder before getting out of the car.

Harry took a breath, slapping his hands against his thighs, “Well, that was fun.”

You nodded, looking back at him with a bashful smile that you mentally scolded yourself for; why were you getting bashful?

“Is it alright if I take your number from Jeff?” Harry asked quickly, “Uh, so we can schedule meeting up for the sessions.” He quickly added, “The writing sessions.” He nearly cringed at his addition and he guessed you caught on because you giggled quietly before straightening your posture.

“Actually, Jeff has my business number. Maybe you can just, take my personal one so I can reply faster. You know, the sooner the better.” You cleared your throat, nodding to yourself.

Harry’s lips stretched into a side smile as he looked at you before he coughed and nodded, “Definitely. The sooner you reply, the sooner we meet. For the writing sessions.”

“Yeah and I can give you the lemon toast recipe.” You said before your eyebrows rose up, “For business purposes, of course.”

Harry’s smile widened at that, holding out his phone for you to take after he unlocked it. “I’d love that.”

You typed in your number before handing his phone back to him, watching as Harry glanced down at it before your phone began ringing, “And that’s mine.” He said, watching you unlock you phone and type before you locked it back.

“Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll text you.” He smiled before opening the door and standing out, ducking to look at you, “Next time, lunch is on me.” And with that, Harry gave you a wave before closing the door and walking away, only giving you a smile over your shoulder and another wave before getting into the car with Jeff.

After getting some snacks from the grocery’s with a shit-eating grin on your face, you drove back to your mom’s to pick Faith up.

You stood on the other side of your car, watching the door open before you saw Faith, her backpack on her back with her grandma standing behind her.

At the sight of her Mommy, Faith was quick to grin before running to you and into you arms as if she hadn’t seen you 4 hours ago.

You hugged your daughter, pressing a kiss to her hair as you did. “Did you have fun?”

Faith nodded before she pulled away from the hug, still keeping her arms around you, “What about you? Did you have fun, Mommy?”

You almost blushed as you remembered, opting to reply a simple reply instead of getting into details. “I did. Ready to go?”

After giving Faith a shower and giving yourself one, too, you and Faith were sat in the comfort of your cozy apartment, sitting on the couch and watching The Greatest Showman for the umpteenth time seen as it was Faith’s favorite. With her cheddar cheese and lettuce sandwich in her right hand and favorite dinosaur toy in the other – a “Megalosaurus not a T-Rex, Mommy” – Faith was cuddling into your side while one hand of yours played with her wild hair as the other tapped absentmindedly on your phone’s screen, eyes set on the television.

“And if it’s crazy, live a little crazy.” Faith sang along with Hugh Jackman, eyes wide as if she was seeing the movie for the first time.

“You can play it sensible, a king of conventional.” You joined her, peppering kisses on her cheek causing her to squeal and giggle.

As Faith sang along with the song, you opened your phone’s camera before switching it to video, flipping the camera so that it was the front one. You started recording, the screen showing you your face as you smiled with pride, tilting it so Faith was shown as she sang, unaware of you recording.

Only 12 seconds into the video, a message pop-up had your eyes traveling to it, falling on a text preview from none other than the young man you were with that day – Harry.

‘Hey, Y/N. Sorry to bother but would you be able to send me that lemon toast recipe? Might treat myself to it tomorrow morning. Sorry for the bother. :) Harry’

After stopping the video and opening the text and reading it, if it weren’t for Faith, you wouldn’t have known that you had a grin on your face.

“Why are you smiling so big? Did Auntie Cece send a picture of her cat?” She had asked, looking up at you with curiosity.

Looking down at her, you laughed slightly at yourself. “No, she didn’t.”

“You look happy.”

There were many things you loved about your daughter, many things you were in awe at. As only a kid, Faith was one of the most empathetic people in your life and that moment as you both cuddled on the couch was proof.

With a matching grin, Faith’s eyes twinkled with glee at the sight of her smiling mom, curious to know the reason.

“They aren’t singing This Is Me yet!” Faith added, knowing that the both of you usually laughed and giggled while singing that song, only because you always sang it so dramatically and at the top of your lungs.

“Just happy you’re finally done with the sandwich because now I can do this!” And with that, you tickled her, Faith breaking into laughter and giggles as she tried to stop you.

5 minutes later, Faith was back to watching the movie while you typed a reply.

‘hey, harry! it isn’t a bother 😊 i’ll write it down and send it in a moment :))’

‘Thank you! x’

And you wrote it down and sent it to him, adding little notes, too just to make sure that he perfected the toast.

‘let me know how that goes for you :) x’

‘Will do, love. Talk to you soon. Goodnight :) x’

‘goodnight, harry x’

As if your little love took that as a sign, you looked down at her as you felt her body grow heavier against you and noticed her breath get steady, seeing her eyes closed as she snoozed.

Carefully, you turned off the television before holding her with your arm so she didn’t fall down as you stood, bending to carry her before kneeling a little to grab her fallen dinosaur, letting out a tiny groan as your back ached.

Tucking her in her bed, you sat beside her for a moment, brushing her hair back softly before bending to kiss her forehead.

“Story?” She sleepily asked, struggling to open her eyes.

You chuckled, “You’re already asleep, nugget.”

She hummed, still struggling to open her eyes, “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled before standing up, walking towards her small vanity and turning on her star light lamp.

Just as you were out of the door, you lingered, turning to look back at your daughter, “Was I really smiling big?”

In her sleepy state, Faith managed to reply. “Very big, Mommy.”

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head before walking out and towards your own room.

Harry felt like a kid. He was too excited that morning to get up and get on with his breakfast, wanting to deny that it wasn’t because he wanted a reason to text you, but who was he trying to lie to? No one, he was alone.

He followed the recipe, chuckling and laughing to himself during some moments when he was about to fall for some mistakes before reading your notes and saving his toasts, as if you were sitting right there and monitoring him.

His playlist was playing from his phone that he held in his hand, and he was humming along as he placed the two toasts on a plate before adding some powdered sugar to them and grabbing his juice.

Before eating, Harry had taken his time in taking a picture of his breakfast, thankful for the natural light his kitchen window was giving for his little photoshoot.

He was just as much nervous as excited as he sliced up a piece before taking a bite, taking his time to taste his work and his eyebrows shot up and he blinked twice in surprise.

It was so good.

While eating another slice, Harry held his phone and opened his messages app, going to your contact.

Attaching the best picture from his breakfast photoshoot, he added a text with it,

‘Tastes incredible! Would have burned it to coal if it weren’t for your notes hahah x’

And he put his phone back on the table, open at your messages as he continued eating while listening to music.

He was mid-sip of his juice when you replied and Harry hated how excited he got because the next thing he knew, he was having a coughing fit that had him go tearful before finally calming down.

‘looks incredible, too! oh trust me, i know. burned a fair amount of toasts on my own so i decided to spare you the damage. you’re a quick learner :)) x’

That morning, you and Harry exchanged multiple texts, drifting from his breakfast to how you both wished to have dogs.

It was around 4 when you were driving back with Faith from her gymnastics practice when Harry called, thankfully just as you were unlocking the door to your apartment.

“Hey.” You smiled to yourself as you answered, taking off your shoes by the door beside Faith’s before closing the door behind you, watching as Faith went to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Hi,” Harry, too, was smiling to himself as he held the phone close to his ear, “I was walking around and I found this tiny restaurant that reminded me of where you took us yesterday and, apparently they make the best Italian pizza. Was wondering if you wanted to grab pizza with me and we can talk about, you know,” he chuckled, “The sessions.”

You thought, mind instantly going to who would watch Faith as you went before your eyes fell on your daughter who came back, whispering to you if she should wait for you in the bathroom seen as you were on the phone.

“One second,” you said to Harry before moving the phone from your ear and muting the sound, “Yeah, baby, do that. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You unmuted, “Hey, sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

He was growing nervous at how you were yet to reply to his suggestion, having already had been nervous enough to suggest and call in the first place.

“Pizza and talking sound lovely.”

He released a breath, smiling to himself. “Great, great! Pick you up at 6?”

“Sure, yeah. 6 is great. I’ll go now. See you soon, Harry.”

“See you soon, Y/N.”

You didn’t trust strangers to watch your daughter, didn’t exactly trust strangers in your house unattended, too. It’s why at times when you couldn’t drive the 40-minute drive to your mom’s, your best friend, Cece, was always your go-to and that was especially nice because she also lived two buildings away.

Cece’s job was one from her home, making food and delivering it to people while she managed her business on her own through social media and it was why most of the time, she was home and always happy to have her goddaughter keep her company.

After calling Cece to make sure she was okay with babysitting Faith for some time and her assuring you that she was, you prepared dinner for your daughter after giving her a shower.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving, baby?” You asked as you sat with Faith while she ate the pasta you made her.

It wasn’t frequent of you to leave Faith for anything but work. Maybe for a night out with some friends every now and then but you always went out with them for 3 hours tops before you began feeling guilty for leaving your daughter and going back to get her so you can spend time together instead.

And it wasn’t like you were frequently going on dates either. Cece had pushed you into it when Faith was 2, and you did go out a few times with different people, all whom you never heard of whenever they knew that you had a daughter and then you decided that maybe the single mom life was just too welcoming of you.

Hell, you didn’t know whether you should call having pizza with Harry a date. It wasn’t, was it? Not that you’d mind but it was for business, wasn’t it? Strictly business. Or maybe it wasn’t and that was fine by you- and now you were beginning to feel like a teenager again. Great.

“Mommy,” Your 4-year-old huffed, rolling her eyes, “I’m a big girl. You should have more fun.”

You couldn’t believe that you were getting advice from a 4-year-old, especially your daughter, but you deserved that.

“When did you get so big?” You rhetorically asked, “Thank you for being understanding, Nugget.”

Faith smiled at you, kicking her legs as she ate. “Where are you going?”

Now that question you weren’t prepared for, as much as you thought about it.

You couldn’t risk telling too much to Faith, knowing that she got excited over new people and couldn’t risk disappointing her if Harry ended up being, well, not one to stick or friendly to kids of single moms.

But at the same time, your daughter was your best friend. It was because of your honesty with her and how you acknowledge her and treat her that she was an understanding and empathetic person who could hold a conversation.

“Well, you know Harry Styles? The man who sings Canyon Moon?” You asked, knowing that that song was on her top favorite songs list after she had heard it once on the radio as you were driving her to her practice.

She nodded, “The pretty man with drawings?”

She had been curious to see the face behind her favorite song and once you showed her a picture, her smile got big and she had said that he was “very pretty” and had “nice drawings that she wanted to color in” meaning his tattoos.

You chuckled, “Yes, that one.” Again, Faith nodded. “Well, I’m helping him with his songs and I’m going to have dinner with him tonight.” You said, crossing your arms on the table.

Faith dropped her fork, looking at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, causing you to laugh heartfully at your daughter. “Mommy, really?!”

You nodded, opening your phone’s camera to record her, Faith not caring.

“Mommy you’re meeting Harry Styles!”

“I am,” you laughed, “Are you happy?”

“Very happy I’m going to cry!” She gasped, “Can I see him? Please, Mommy, please!”

“I don’t know, Nugget. I might have to ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” She frowned, “I can wear my Harry dress!”

And by her Harry dress, she meant the Fine Line black tee you had bought her, and even though it was sized small, she was only a toddler so you had resulted for her to wear it as a dress after you had trimmed it and its sleeves and had your mom fit it as tight as she could without damaging it. Needless to say, whenever your daughter wore the oversized tee dress, you had to snap multiple pictures of her because she always looked too adorable and fashionable in it.

“I don’t know what he’ll say but I’ll ask him. And yes, you can. You always look adorable in it.” You smiled, still recording her.

“Can you tell him I love his songs? I love Canyon Moon so much an-Oh! And Sunflower, too!” She grinned, “Are you going to show him this video?” Faith asked as she looked at you.

You shrugged, “You want me to?”

She nodded excitedly before looking at the camera, “Mr. Harry, I love you very much, sir. I hope I can see you but Mommy said she’ll ask you so please say yes. Make Mommy happy, not sad. Goodnight, sir.”

Your heart might have as well exploded that moment as she waved before you ended the video.

As if he was waiting for you to finish, your phone began ringing the moment you stopped recording, finding Harry calling you which made you instantly pick up the moment Faith began eating again.

“Hey, do you like strawberries?” He asked, the moment you picked up.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but a silly smile took over your face nonetheless, “Uh, yes?”

“Alright, great. I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

To make matters easier, once Harry had texted you that he was 2 minutes away, you grabbed your bag and left your apartment and into the elevator before walking outside your building, just in time to see a yellow Ferrari Dino pull up.

You smiled at him, watching as he parked before getting out, “Did I keep you waiting for long?” He asked as he approached you.

“No, just came down.” You answered, watching as he reluctantly slightly opened his arms. He was a hugger.

You wrapped your arms around him in a greeting hug, taking notice of how good he smelled. Just as good as he looked; he was in off-white textured knit Wales Bonner polo, paired with his Gucci flared denim pants and off-white Converse. Nobody should be allowed to look that good in casual clothes.

It wasn’t like Harry’s mind wasn’t doing flips at that moment, too. Instead of smelling like overpriced perfume, you smelled like coconut and roses; a refreshing smell that made Harry’s smile deepen enough for his dimple to make appearance. You, too, were in casual clothes; violet colored cropped culottes, a white tee tucked inside, white sneakers on, a black and white cross-bag and your hair was up in a messy ponytail that was kept by a hairband but you wrapped a black and white head bandana around the band just for the looks.

You looked effortlessly beautiful.

You both walked to his car, Harry opening the door for you before grabbing something from the passenger seat before you sat – a bouquet of strawberries.

“Didn’t know what type of flowers you like so,” he said before extending the bouquet towards you with sweetest and giddiest smile, “Hope that’s okay.”

You almost melted, your face changing to a pout as your head tilted to look at him while you accepted the bouquet, “This is so nice of you. Thank you, I love it.”

Alright so you don’t get strawberry bouquets to people you aren’t going on dates with, right?

The ride to the little pizzeria was nice – comfortably nice. You had shared the strawberries there and your stomach did a thousand flips when you offered Harry one only to have him open his mouth,

“I’m driving.”

And then he opened his mouth again, biting the strawberry you offered with your hand, laughing when it was about to drip on him if it weren’t for your fast reflexes – thank motherhood for that – as you held out your other hand beneath his chin.

By sharing strawberries, you mean you ate some as well as fed Harry some.

You both mentally took notice of how conversations flowed so effortlessly between you, as if you had met years ago and not just a day. Hell, even the texts were random and messy as well as entertaining and fun.

The drive wasn’t a long one, only about 20 minutes before Harry was parking in front of a place called ‘La Pizza’.

You both went outside the car, you waiting for Harry by your side as he walked towards you.

You might as well have melted right there and then when you felt Harry’s hand, very gently, on your back. It was very gentle, you almost didn’t notice and you felt that he was just making sure that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable but it was a reflex action of his. Nonetheless, you appreciated the concern and decided to show him that it was okay to touch you when you touched his arm as you both walked through the door.

Harry gulped, feeling hot as you touched him and he almost scolded himself because it only lasted for a second, yet there he was, getting flustered already. What the fuck was going on with him?

A waitress greeted the both of you, smiling widely as she motioned for you to follow her inside the place.

“There are more tables on the roof, would you want to check that?”

Harry looked at you the same moment you did at him, both of you nodding to each other to say that you wouldn’t mind.

“That would be great, thank you.” Harry said, smiling politely at the waitress who nodded and walked in front of you with the both of you following her up the stairs, Harry’s hand now more comfortably on your back as he walked behind you.

The roof was beautiful; cliché but beautiful fairy lights of small globe bulbs hung above the place, only 3 tables there, each at a good amount of distance from each other.

“Would you want to sit here or downstairs?”

Harry looked at you, you giving him a nod. “Here would be fine.”

The waitress nodded before guiding you towards a 2-chaired table. Harry had sat you down first before moving to his chair.

“Thank you.” You both said in unison as the waiter placed 2 menus in front of the both of you.

“I’ll be back to take your orders.” She smiled before leaving.

“Looks good.” You smiled at him before looking down at the menu.

“Didn’t know they had a roof.” Harry said, “This saved me.” He chuckled.

You looked up with confusion, “Saved you from what?”

Harry shrugged, now growing nervous. “Uh, wasn’t sure if taking you out for the first time here was chivalrous enough because it felt too casual, like a friends thing and not a date but now here seems right.”

He wished the ground he was on would split and swallow him whole. Wished to crawl up a hole and cry.

There were things he was practicing on on the way to you; like how he would hide that he was a nervous wreck, how he was excited to spend time with you, how he knew almost every single song you worked on, and finally, how he wouldn’t spill that he thought that was a date, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

You were amused. Contrary to how Harry truly felt, you thought it was nice that he was straightforward.

“Figured this wasn’t too casual the moment you gave me the strawberry bouquet, Harry.” You smiled, assuring him that you were okay with this being a date.

Looks like it wasn’t business after all.

Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “That was nice, wasn’t it?”

You laughed, “Yes. Don’t think I was ever given a bouquet of fruit so yeah. Really nice.”

You both went through the menu, commenting on some plates and ingredients as you did and contemplating together.

“Maybe we should just get two pizzas and share, so we can try more than one option.” You suggested.

“Good idea.” He agreed, “What do you think of Quattro Formaggi?”

“Ooo, yes.” You then pointed on another topping, “Pizza Melanzane?”

“Yes.” Harry closed his menu with a nod.

Shortly after, your waitress came back and took your order before leaving.

“Finished a song yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as you took a sip of water before putting the glass back down, “Really?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. A new one.”

“You mean you wrote a new one? Not finished writing one you already had?”

Again, he nodded, putting his arms on the table. “New. Very much new.”

You grinned at him, “That’s amazing. What is it about?”

Alright maybe he didn’t think that one through. He did write a song the previous night and he was proud of it and his gut did tell him that it would make it to the list of his next album, but telling you about it on your first – and he hoped it wasn’t the last – date? Well, not so ideal.

“It’s about opening up to someone new. Trying love again and unraveling yourself to the other person.”

Maybe it was because of your situation, but your breath hitched in your throat.

“You know when you get fucked from an ex and love as whole and you think that you don’t want to go through that again and you, like, close off,” Harry explained, “And it’s like you’re immune to feeling any sort of love or interest in anyone after that. Sure, maybe some sexual attraction here and there, but never something wholesome, you know?” He motioned with one of his rings clad hands as he talked, “But then you meet someone and you feel like a teenager or something,” he chuckled, “And it’s a nice feeling, it’s wonderful, that you start thinking that, hey,” he tilted his head, “Maybe I can do this again.”

You were speechless.

You were a woman of words, hell, you worked with words, but right then, you barely remembered the alphabets.

“You- You get me, right?” Harry asked.

You broke out of your trance, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, yeah, I,” you paused, an airy chuckle leaving your throat, “Man do I get you.”

He smiled in amusement, “Relatable?”

“Too much, you had me by surprise.” You answered honestly, releasing a breath.

It wasn’t a surprise to Harry that somebody broke your heart; it was always the good ones who got their hearts broken and got fucked over, always the givers.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling of shock at who would possibly have you at arm’s length, with the ability to kiss and cuddle you, and decide to break your heart?

See, maybe Harry had just met you but you know when you meet someone good. Someone kind. Especially when you’re in an industry that is full of shitty people and too many cold snobs.

“When was it?”

You understood his question, understanding that he meant to ask you about when your heart got broken – when somebody fucked you over.

“5 years ago.” You answered, “You?”

“2.”

“Cheers.” You joked, raising your glass of water to clink it to his, chuckling when he did clink them.

“5 years is a long time.” He commented, gentle with his tone as were his eyes.

“It is,” you agreed, “Got over him, really.”

“You met someone after?”

His question made you think again of your answer, causing you to giggle before correcting yourself, “Got over him as a person but not over the whole thing.”

Harry chuckled, “So no.”

You shook your head, “No. Didn’t have the heart to.” And even though your sentence carried double meanings, you took a mental note of that same sentence just for future songwriting sessions. “What about you? Met anyone after it?”

“Not really,” he shook his head, “Friends set me up with some people but it never went further than a day.”

“You don’t click?”

“No,” Harry answered before a small smile made its way to his face, “I didn’t.”

Your face grew hot, breaking eye contact to glance beside you for a moment.

“How long did it take to write that song yesterday?” You asked, turning back to look at him, growing more flustered to see that he was already looking at you with the same smile.

“Think 25 minutes.”

Your eyes widened, “Inspiration really did hit you, Harry, huh?”

“Grabbed the journal and guitar and I just ran to the studio at home, and it just,” he shrugged, “Happened.”

“Let it keep hitting you like that and we won’t be working together.” You said with a smirk.

“Then I’ll purposely distract myself whenever it hits me so I can see you.” Harry was quick to reply, a smug smile of his own on his face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered under your breath, shaking your head as you covered your face, hearing Harry laugh before feeling his hands on yours, guiding them down.

Shortly after, your waitress was back with your orders; both pizzas looking mouthwatering.

You and Harry decided against utensils, exchanging slices with your hands and granted, as Harry had said, they did make the best Italian pizza.

After the pizza and paying, you and Harry had grabbed ice cream from the parlor right next to the pizzeria before sitting in the car, remaining parked as you laughed about everything and anything.

“And I had no idea that Paul McCartney was right behind me the entire time. It was awful!” You finished, laughing more at how hard Harry was laughing at your story.

“Would’ve changed my name and moved out of this planet if I were you.” He teased you as he regained his breath.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

Harry laughed, reaching out to place a hand on yours, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Embarrassing shit happens to me everyday, too. On stage is the worst.”

You tried to ignore the tingly feeling that rushed within you at his hand over yours, but good heavens, you were a goner. “The falls?”

“At some point I thought it was good my tour got postponed because I see myself falling during most of the songs. Imagine Watermelon Sugar, I’d be a clown.”

You laughed, “Probably so,” you teased him, batting your eyelashes jokingly when he feigned shock, “But really, you’re an amazing performer. I actually have been to one of your shows once.”

Harry’s eyes widened and as did his smile, “No way.”

You nodded, “The one in Glasgow in November.”

“You’re telling me that we were in the same room and-“ Harry paused, shaking his heads as he let out a chuckle of disbelief, “Wow. Alright. Did you have anyone with you?”

“Was just me and Faith.” You answered nonchalantly, only realizing once you did before your looked intently at Harry.

“Is that a best friend?” He asked, “Did they enjoy the show?”

“She did, yeah. Very actually,” You chuckled, remember how surprised you were at how 2-year-old Faith at the time was actually very interested and was dancing in your arms the entire time. “And she is my best friend at some point but she’s my daughter.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting but you definitely weren’t expecting Harry to grin excitedly.

“You have a daughter?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, a small smile on your face as you inspected him, “I do. She turns 5 in December.”

Harry only seemed to get more excited at the news, which made your heart flutter at the sight of.

“Do you have a picture?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled more then, eager to show him your beautiful girl before unlocking your phone and opening your photos album, only to find the most recent addition to it – the video. “Hey, actually, she wanted me to show you something.”

You gave Harry the phone to watch better, most of the time keeping your eyes on him. Harry’s cheeks sported a shade of red at how highly your daughter spoke of him, laughing and giggling to himself as he watched.

“Nooo, I won’t say no. I’d love to meet her.” He cooed, continuing to watch.

As the video ended, Harry handed you back the phone, “Please let me meet her. And what’s that Harry dress?”

And so you told him about your adventure with the tee, to which his heart seemed to grow a thousand times more at.

“I wasn’t aware kids loved me, I’m sorry you couldn’t find her size.” Harry frowned, feeling genuinely bad.

“Hey, no,” you assured him, putting your other hand on his – that was still resting on yours – “Don’t worry about it. You don’t exactly sing the alphabetics, Mr. sex-inspired-my-last-album-and-I-made-it-on-shrooms.”

Harry giggled, shrugging at you.

You both talked some more, only about Faith. Harry’s eyes were wide with admiration when you told him about how you raised her alone – also assured when he realized that the father wasn’t exactly in the picture even though his heart broke at that – and he showered you with compliments of how brave you were to raise a kid alone.

“Think I should head back now. I still need to pick Faye up from my best friend’s.” You said, leaning your head on the headrest as your body was turned towards Harry, his hand sandwiched between yours on your thigh.

“Can I help?” He asked, “Only if that’s okay. I don’t want to be crossing my limits.”

Your eyes searched his, growing emotional at the man in front of you. “Are you sure?”

Again with the double meanings.

That time, Harry noticed, his face softening as he looked back at you. Softly and ever-so-gently, he leaned to press a soft kiss on your cheek, “I’m sure.”

As he drove, you and Harry held hands on your thigh, the both of you singing along to Fleetwood Mac on your way.

As you gave Harry directions, he was absentmindedly rubbing your hand with his thumb. If you would have told him that he was doing that, he would have denied it; not because he wanted to deny it, but because it felt too natural that he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“Right here.” You pointed at a building, “She’s two buildings away. You can go, it’s a short walk.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” Harry said, parking before turning to look at you.

“Harry, seriously, you can leave if you want. I’m right there.” You pointed at your building.

“Nonsense, love. I’ll wait here.”

You sighed in contentment, giving his hand a squeeze before getting out of the car and into the building.

“Why did you not tell me that you were on a date with Harry fucking Styles?” Cece whisper shouted as soon as she opened the door, “Knew from Faith, you shit.”

“Because you’d overr-“

“He could be the one!”

“-react. You’d overreact and plan our wedding.” You teased your best friend, “Where’s Faye?”

“Won’t you come in for a drink?” She asked before turning, “Faith, it’s your mom!”

“Can’t. Uh,” you cleared your throat, “Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Some- No fucking way!” She exclaimed, muttering a “sorry” when you hushed her, “He-Harry is downstairs? Are you shitting me?” Cece excitedly asked.

You couldn’t stifle the smile on your face as you nodded.

Cece was about to talk some more before Faith appeared beside her, her backpack hung on one shoulder as she rubbed her eyes.

You knelt down, hugging her. “Hey, Nugget. You sleepy?”

Faith only nodded, wrapping her arms around you as you carried her, feeling her rest her head on your shoulder and you instantly knew that she slept.

“I’ll text you, alright?” You whispered to Cece.

“You better.”

Carrying Faith as well as having her backpack in one hand, once Harry saw you, he was out of the car and rushing towards you, taking the bag from your hand.

“Thank you.” You smiled thankfully, noticing how he walked beside you and guided you to the car, opening the door for you and sleeping Faith before closing it as gently as he could.

The lack of backseats made Harry place the purple backpack on his lap as he drove towards your building, a seconds drive.

He stopped the car and was out of his seat the moment he parked, slinging the bag on his shoulder before helping you out, taking your bag for you, to which you quietly thanked him for.

“Um, you can place the bags on my shoulders or something.”

“I can help you upstairs, come on. It’s no problem.”

You knew he was set on it and you let him, mostly because of how surprised you were that there were people who didn’t cringe and run the moment they knew the other person had a kid.

Harry did all the work; opened the building’s door for you, pressed for the elevator, pressed your floor number and had even taken out your keys once you told him to to unlock the door.

“Come in, come in.” You whispered.

Unsure of what to do, Harry walked inside and mirrored your actions by taking off his shoes before lingering.

“You can follow me.” You whispered again, turning around for a moment to look at him with a smile.

A quick take of the apartment was what Harry could do as he followed you, feeling an emotion of comfort and coziness engulf him as he did.

You were never less thankful for yourself for every time you changed Faith into pajamas before taking her to Cece’s, because it only made the process of tucking her in easier.

Harry had helped you by moving the covers so you could place Faith in bed before he stepped back, letting you tuck her in.

He smiled, watching how you seemed to shift around her or even when you just talked about her, like she was the most important person in your life and he knew that she was exactly that.

Faith was beautiful, and more often than not, you were glad that she got most of your looks and not her biological father’s because it only meant that he really was out of your life.

Harry noticed it, too. She had your nose, your lips, your facial outline, and your hair color. And from what he had seen in the video from when Faith was awake, she had your eye color.

You placed a kiss to her forehead before turning around, your eyes falling on Harry whose eyes were set on Faith with a ghost of a smile on his face.

His eyes came up to you and you noticed that he was still holding on to Faith’s backpack and was wearing your crossbag across his own chest.

You smiled as you grabbed the backpack from him and putting it aside on the floor before looking at him.

The only light in the room was from the hallway, making the room dimmed and making the both of you in a much more sentimental moment.

“They usually run away when they find about Faith.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “Now is your cue.”

Harry’s eyes were on yours until they glanced at your lips, and butterflies erupted in your stomach at that.

“Thank God I’m not one of them, then.” He replied gently in a low whisper before he leaned closer, shamelessly looking at your lips.

It was you who took the final step, closing the minimal space between you by placing your lips on his.

His hands went to your waist as yours went to his neck, feeling him kiss you back softly but eagerly before pulling away from less than a second to tilt his head, getting a better angle before his lips were back on yours.

“Mommy?”

Pt. 2

#THE LONGEST I HAVE EVER WRITTEN #AAA WHAT DO YOU THINK #wellbeafinelime #Not One of Them #NOOT #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #fluff #fluff one shot #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles fluff #single parent!reader #single parent reader

2K notes · View notes

fan-fiction-kitty · 4 years ago

Note

There's not enough Revali x reader content and that makes me sad. Let's fix that, shall we? Revali with an S/O who often overworks themself so Revali has to drag them away from their office with them throwing a hissy fit over "There's still more work to be done let me go you hypocrite bird!" He plops them in bed and then they just, immediately fall asleep.

Can relate

Warnings: None

Words: 284

Genre: fluff, headcanon/oneshot hybrid? lol

Revali with an Overworked s/o

-Revali definitely has a very strict schedule. He falls asleep at the same time every night and wakes up at the same time every day. You, however, just sleep whenever and it bothers the hell out of him.

-He’ll constantly tell you how much you could benefit from having a set bedtime, but your work doesn’t allow for that! Once you’re set on a task, there’s no stopping you until it’s done.

-Revali may start out by just poking his head in your office and being like “Hey, I’m cold, come to bed.” You know his feathered ass isn’t cold, so you just ignore him.

-Ten minutes later, he comes in again. “Can’t this wait until the morning? The light from your office is keeping me awake.” You know he can’t even see the light through the closed door.

-For once he realizes that making this issue about him isn’t gonna work. The third time he comes in he says something along the lines of “You’re gonna be tired tomorrow, and I’m not gonna let you take a nap!”

-”Revali, I’m almost done!”

-”You’ve been saying that for the last hour! Alright, that’s it-”

-He literally picks you up and flings you over his shoulder. You try to fight him but being away from your desk makes you realize how tired you are. When you whine, he just doesn’t reply.

-You relent and let him put you down in bed and tuck you in. He lies next to you and grumpily turns his back to you. You know it takes him like three minutes to fall asleep, so you close your eyes and pretend to sleep while waiting for him to drift... off... zzzzzzz....

Sorry if this seems rushed! I’m on some new meds and they make me tired af...

#revali #revali x reader #breath of the wild #age of calamity #revali headcanons

160 notes · View notes

mooresomore · 3 years ago

Text

“Buck!” Christopher hollered.

“Coming!” Buck yelled back. He’d been tasked with the bedtime routine tonight since Eddie’s parents had called and wanted to talk to him (Buck wasn’t going to ignore the fact that it had been almost 45 minutes now and there had been no raised voice, cuss words, or breaking glass; it had to be a personal best for Eddie). “Alright dude, let's do it. Hop on up.” Christopher climbed into the bed and laughed as Buck made a whooshing noise as pulled up the blankets and tucked them around Christopher. “Ready for that story?”

“No.” Christopher looked at Buck. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Ok?”

“You know how dad keeps saying he doesn’t need anything for his birthday?”

“Yeah.” It has been miserable-Buck had kept insisting they needed to get Eddie something; Eddie had kept saying he had all he needed with his boys.

“I was thinking-we should take him back home to Texas, to that one bar-b-que place he always talks about.”

“You know, that would be kind of fun.” Buck said. “Let me talk with Captain Nash- er, Bobby-and talk to him about getting some time off.”

“Ok.” Christopher said. They heard the sliding door close. “How about that story?”

“You got it kid.” Buck quickly opened the book and started reading so by the time Eddie got upstairs, he wouldn’t know the surprise Buck and Christopher had been talking about.

“Night buddy.” Eddie said, coming in to kiss Christopher goodnight. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night dad. Night Buck.”

Buck and Eddie went to their room. “What did your parents want?” Buck asked as they changed into their pajamas. “I assumed nothing bad, since you didn’t break anything this time.”

“No.” Eddie said, sliding into bed and reaching for Buck. “They wanted us to come down and visit them.”

“That would be nice.” Buck said. “We haven’t taken a vacation in a while.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’ll be ok. We can leave if it gets to be too much. I promise I won’t let anything happen.” Buck kissed Eddie.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Bobby tomorrow.”

“Our plan is a go.” Buck told Christopher the next day. “Remind me the name of the place.”

Buck quickly scheduled reservations. They were on their way to El Paso the next day.

“Come on, we’re going out for your birthday dinner.” Buck told Eddie.

“Buck, you didn’t…”

“Come on dad.” Christopher said.

“You two are ganging up on me now aren’t you?” Eddie laughed.

“Yep!” Christopher and Buck grinned.

“Fine. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Christopher said. “Buck, get the blindfold.”

“Christopher’s idea.” Buck said. “Trust us, it’s nothing bad.”

“Fine.” Eddie said. It was kind of fun to be kept in the dark.

“We’re here.” Buck said a short time later. Eddie took off the blindfold and looked at the sign. “Buck? Christopher? How’d…” he trailed off. “Thank you both so much.”

“We love you Eddie.” Buck said, leaning in for a hug. “You deserve special things. And you said they have the best bar-be-que here, so I’m dying to try it.”

“Come on.”

One thing was for sure, Eddie loved his boys so much. Even when they decided to gang up on him.

#buddie #kid fic #fic writing #writing #the buckley diaz family #this came to me on my drive home from work today #unbeta'd

30 notes · View notes

jenmyeons · 4 years ago

Text

After Hours

pairing: kyungsoo x female reader genre: established relationship, smut warnings: explicit descriptions of sex, phone sex, dirty talk, (sort of guided) masturbation, horny soo, do not read if you are under the age of 18

word count: 1.6k (unedited)

summary: in which kyungsoo misses you and phone sex ensues

He has only been gone for a week yet his absence is already taking a toll on you. Waking up alone, cooking alone, eating alone, spending the evenings alone - all things you despised but were forced to do for years until he stumbled into your life. You look down at the now empty plate with a heavy sigh which fills your empty apartment. For what it’s worth, the dish you had served yourself was a good one and you are proud to say that you have turned into a decent cook over the years of living alone. However, any meal is best eaten in the company of a loved one and so you can’t help but long to once again share yours with the man currently in another country.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the kitchen counter startles you out of your thoughts and you rush out of your chair to see who is texting you.

From: Soo ❤️ Call me when you have time

You waste no time and call him right away - not having to wait more than a signal or two before your boyfriend’s deep voice greets you on the other end.

“That was quick, do you miss me that much?” He teases and it infuriates you how much you love it when he does that. A sign of comfort and love on his side.

“How is Japan?” You ask, trying to divert him off the topic of your discomfort with being without him.

There is a moment of silence from his side where only the faintest sound of bed sheets rustling together can be heard in the background.

“Soo?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to find the TV remote under the duvet,” Kyungsoo says and then there’s silence again while he thinks back to your first question. “Japan is great,” he continues, “Chanyeol and I went to this really nice restaurant we were recommended for dinner so we got back to the hotel a while ago.”

You hum in reply as you squeeze your phone between your ear and shoulder in order to gather your plate and utensils. “That sounds lovely.”

“It was nice,” Kyungsoo concludes, albeit with a hint of uncertainty lacing his tone. “I wish you could have been there with us though, you would have loved it.”

“That’s okay. We’ll go there together in spring, just the two of us when you’re free,” you reassure him with the hint of a smile at the fact that he seems to be missing you almost to the same capacity as you have been missing him.

While you get started on cleaning up, Kyungsoo tells you all about the different dishes he had ordered and how eager he is to try his hand on a few of them when he returns home. You eye the half finished glass of red which is still left on the kitchen table and move over to take a sip, very much content to finally get more than just a minute or two with your lover, despite his busy schedule.

“Did you have dinner?”

“Yeah, I had just finished when you texted me.”

This time it’s Kyungsoo’s turn to hum, satisfied that you did not skip out on eating for the sole reason of him not being there. Expecting him to say something more, you quickly down the rest of your wine and head towards your shared bedroom to get changed into something lighter than your sweatsuit for bedtime.

“Are you still there?” You question when Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, taking your phone away from your right ear to instead put the call on speaker and leave it on the top of the dresser so you can have both hands free as you change.

“Yes, sorry. I got lost in thought.”

“Oh. What were you thinking about?” You reply while pulling his black hoodie over your head and fold it neatly to put away later.

“You,” he declares without hesitation.

Feeling the heat of a blush in your cheeks you reply, “that’s flattering, anything in particular or just me in general?”

“Both.” His reply makes you halt in your search for a comfortable nightgown to sleep in - the one he shyly gifted you on your first Valentine’s Day together. You quickly gather yourself and pull out the next drawer and to your luck spot the red silky fabric of the negligée. With your body heating up with the implications of his statement, you grab your phone from the dresser after discarding your sweatpants and settle on the empty bed.

“Tell me about it,” you urge.

Much to your frustration, Kyungsoo ignores your request and instead asks “have you settled in for the night?”

“Yeah,” you sigh and a long stretch of silence follows your statement, making you wonder if he is falling asleep at his end of the call. “Soo?”

“I’m here just… thinking.” Kyungsoo’s voice sounds strained and your brows naturally draw together in concern at his odd behavior.

“You okay, babe?” There is a slightly worried tone to your voice and the labored breathing does nothing to ease your concerns that he might be anything less than fine.

“Yes, except I’m getting hard just thinking about you in our bed and it’s proving to be quite distracting,” your boyfriend states bluntly followed by an awkward laugh.

A blush once again heats up your cheeks, this time accompanied by a familiar tingle in the pit of your stomach. “Would it help if I told you I’m wearing the nightgown you gave me?” You ask teasingly, knowing fully well it will do nothing to ease his situation. Quite the contrary, actually.

“The red one?”

“The one and only.”

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo curses and the faint rustling of fabric returns at his end.

Your free hand moves at the image of Kyungsoo palming himself through his boxers and settles between your legs - one of which you draw up to give yourself easier access to touch yourself through the fabric of your underwear. Imagining his hands smoothing over the softness of your skin, your breath hitches.

“Are you touching yourself, baby?” He asks breathlessly and the hum you give in reply comes off as more of an embarrassingly needy moan than affirmation, though it may be all the confirmation he needs that you miss him as badly as he is missing you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he prompts and takes the opportunity to rid himself of his boxers while you slip your hand inside your panties.

“You. Your hands. I’m always longing for your hands on me,” you tell him with a choked up moan as you spread your wetness over your throbbing clit with your fingers, wishing it was Kyungsoo’s fingers their place. “They ground me and they feel like home.”

Kyungsoo stays silent save for the heavy breathing and lewd sounds of him stroking himself and for a moment it makes you wonder if you killed the mood with the depth of your previous statement. However, you don’t have time to worry for long before Kyungsoo speaks up.

“Good. I wish so badly that I could touch you right now.” It’s quiet again as he contemplates what to say next. “The first thing I want to do when I get home is to spread you out on our kitchen table and eat you out slowly until you’re desperate to come on my tongue.”

Your breath hitches and a needy ‘yes please’ leaves your lips at the absolutely pornographic image of his hands firmly holding your thighs apart to keep you at his mercy.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he continues, albeit breathlessly. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

His nickname of choice leaves goosebumps over your exposed skin and you sink two fingers into your wet cunt with yet another breathy moan escaping you.

“Sweetheart,” he begs pleadingly as his question goes unanswered.

“Yes,” you grit out through clenched teeth. Your climax is closing in but you need more. “More, Soo. I need more.” Your neediness elicits a moan from your boyfriend and by the sound of his labored breathing tells you he’s close to his own undoing. The thought of him coming all over himself making you impossibly wetter.

“How many fingers?” Kyungsoo asks shamelessly and you answer without hesitation. “Add another,” he instructs and you comply without complaint, whining at the added fullness though not as fulfilling as your boyfriend’s slender digits that always seem to find the perfect spots without difficulty. Three of your own seem to do the trick though as you feel a familiar burn in your belly.

“Kyungsoo I’m close,” you whine breathlessly as you increase the speed of your fingers moving in and out of your cunt, creating rather obscene squelching sounds in the process but you can’t find it in you to be embarrassed.

“I- fuck. Me too, baby. Let me hear you.”

Throwing all inhibitions out the window, you let out a loud whimper as your orgasm creeps closer and closer and Kyungsoo’s labored breathing over the receiver as he listens to your wanton moans. Hearing you so close to your climax seems to push Kyungsoo over the edge as he groans out your name, cursing as he strokes himself through his orgasm. You follow not long after with a string of whimpers and his name falling off your lips as your legs shake with the force of your orgasm.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, Kyungsoo is the first to speak up.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” You chuckle in exhaustion.

“For indulging me,” Kyungsoo explains and you hear him pull out what you assume might be tissues to clean himself off.

“Of course, it was fun and I needed this.” You tell him with a tired smile spreading over your lips at the equally exhausted laugh your lover lets out over the phone.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Soo.”

#kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo smut #exo smut #exo x reader #kyungsoo #exo

258 notes · View notes

nctseren · 4 years ago

Text

🕒SEREN : 2-3pm | NCT 24hr RELAY CAM

"It's exactly 2:00 pm — well now it's 2:01 pm."

Seren is standing in front of the camera, which is on her small desk. She's wearing a blue sweater and pants, there is a white towel around her shoulders, and her hair is wet.

"I just took a bath. The water was so good that I almost forgot about you." she begins to dry her hair. "Johnny-oppa had to come to knock on my door to remind me."

She stops drying her hair for a moment to grab the camera, then walks over to her bed and sits down. With one hand, she holds the camera and, with her other hand, continues to dry her hair.

"These days, there isn't much to do because, you know, we can't go outside." she pouts. "So after practice or when I finish my schedule, I come back here, rest a bit, and then go to the 10th floor to watch movies or hang out."

"I don't really wear makeup when I'm at home," she says when she's done drying her hair. "Well, that's a lie. I do wear it sometimes, but I don't feel like doing it today."

Seren sets the towel aside and eases herself onto the bed, crossing her legs.

"You can see I have dark circles," she points under her eyes.

"Ah, you guys, I've been listening to a lot of music lately — well, always." she laughs a little. "But lately, I feel more connected. I recently listened to Zayn's album again —yes, Icarus Falls, don't tell me you haven't heard it! — and I forgot how great it was. In fact," she starts laughing all of a sudden. "yesterday Taeyong-oppa entered the room and was scared because everything was dark and the music was loud. I was sitting like this and meditating... Yes, he was scared."

She is silent for a moment. "I don't know what to do anymore— it's embarrassing to admit that. I already ate, Doyoung-oppa is in his room, but I don't want to disturb him. Johnny-oppa is getting ready because he has things to do, and Taeyong-oppa left early." she sighed with mock sadness. "I only have Haechan left ..."

Another scene appears in the video, Seren leaving her room and bumping into Haechan coming out of hers.

"Did you just wake up?" she looks surprised. "Yah, you have to sleep early. Czennies, Haechan played until 4 am, again."

"They know that's my bedtime," Haechan scoffed. "And I woke up half an hour ago, but I'll go back to sleep in a while."

"No! You have to keep me company."

"But I have better things to do!" He whined.

Seren shot him a look. "Go away then, and don't talk to me ever again."

The next few seconds of the video are Haechan hugging her and asking her for "forgiveness" as they made their way to the kitchen.

(...)

They both sit at the table— there are various plates of food and fruit. Haechan brings his face closer to the camera with a big smile.

"Well, now this is Haechan 1.0 Relay Cam. They'll watch me eat while Sohee admires my face."

"Very funny."

She moves the camera away from him and places it on the table, focusing on both of them.

But he ignores her. "Auntie left me some prepared food. I love her."

"I love her even more."

"You just want to fight."

Seren rolls her eyes and grabs a plate of grapes. Haechan takes a plate of food.

"What are you going to do when it's your turn?" she asks him, stuffing the fifth grape into her mouth.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I told Johnny-hyung to do it with me. And now you have to be there as well."

"I doubt it."

"Ah, noona!" he begs.

She laughs and moves closer to the camera. "Czennies, pay attention. This is what he does when he wants something from me. He never calls me that, only when he wants something."

"You never want to appear with me," Haechan complains. "The same thing happened last time. You preferred to go out with Jaehyun-hyung."

"You didn't invite me last time." She responds defensively, but there is a smile peeking out. "Like, we ran into each other in the elevator, and you just complained. Besides, we're together right now."

"If I were Jaemin ..." he mutters, taking a big bite out of his food.

But Seren hears him because, after that, she lets out the loudest laugh, and when she moves her hand, she accidentally hits him.

"Haechanie tends to get jealous because he swears that Jaemin is my favorite now."

Haechan frowns but still seems to want to laugh. "I just finish this meal, and trust me, the rest of the week I don't speak to you again."

He was obviously joking because not even a minute later, they were both chatting and laughing like nothing.

"After this, we should play fifa," he says.

Seren immediately denies it. "I don't play with bad losers."

"Once! That was once!" he defends himself. "And I don't know since when did you get good."

"Jungwoo taught me." She responds happily. "He said, and I quote: so you can finally kick his ass— butt! I meant butt."

He lets out a big snort. "I'm better than him."

"I highly doubt that."

After what seemed like an eternity (to her) of waiting for Haechan to finish eating and hearing him say that "he was definitely better than Jungwoo" they finally went to sit in the living room.

She adjusts the camera so that it focuses on both of them, and he takes the remote control to turn on the television.

"Hey, don't you dare turn on the game!" she sits up and frowns at him.

Haechan pouts at her. "Please, just for a bit. Think about this: the Relay Cam is almost over, and czennies want to see us play."

"They don't want that."

"Yes, they do," he raises an eyebrow. "You think they don't want to see two competitive Geminis play a video game that makes them fight?"

Seren blinks for a moment and then looks straight into the camera. "Shame on you If you want that, guys. I actually don't like fighting with you," she looks at Haechan for a few seconds and then smiles. "but I do like kicking your butt."

She didn't have to say more, Haechan immediately turned on the video game. For the next few minutes, they play (and she calls him a cheater several times) until her phone rings, and when she picks it up, she sees the time.

"It's 2:58!"

Seren shows her phone to the camera. Her lock screen is a photo of a bunch of beautiful butterflies.

"Before you finish this, they should know that I'm beating you," Haechan smirks.

"I can defend that— it's early, and I'm not me right now..."

"Early!?"

She covers his mouth. "You're also a cheater. Anyways, czennies, I hope you liked my —OK, our— Relay Cam. Please give tons of love to our members Relay Cams, too."

"Bye!"

————FEATURING OTHER RELAY CAMS!!

🕒HAECHAN : 2-3am

she is mentioned

he said that she had agreed to appear on his relay cam, but when he went to her room she was already asleep

"i will get my revenge"

after a while she is mentioned again

he's telling his stories

and then he says he was very nervous when he met her

because she was known for her dancing and at the time he was new — so he was intimidated and didn't know what to say

🕒TAEYONG : 10-11am

again, she doesn't really appear in the video

but her voice is heard

when taeyong is lying on his bed, she asks him —in a really soft voice— if he wants to have breakfast

then her voice is heard again when he is feeding his fish

she is giggling while saying "cute, cute, cute"

and taeyong calls her cute too

#kpop added member #kpop addition #kpop female addition #kpop oc #nct 127 added member #nct 127 addition #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member #nct added member #kpop female idol #nct addition #nct oc #nct au #kpop female member

72 notes · View notes

wendystales · 3 years ago

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Eighteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Seventeen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Nineteen

I remember the first time I really wanted to see New York. I must have been about 12 years old and was watching a random episode of Friends that was on TV. I saw those flashes of the city between one scene and another, and I thought it was amazing, the great stone jungle.

When I turned 16, my dad gifted me with a trip to New York, not because it was my favorite place in the world, but because it was on sale. There were 10 days where the only time I stopped to rest was bedtime. We went to almost every tourist spot, took thousands of photos and it was definitely one of the best trips I've ever been on.

Now, the city that I once wanted to know and live in, like the characters in Friends, felt like a prison. I wasn't there of my own free will or for a truly irrefutable proposal. I was there out of fear and passion, the most dangerous mixture.

I believe that at some point, a few months from now, I'm going to start loving New York, but right now, I can only feel contempt.

I pass through the arrivals gate, looking at those millions of unfamiliar faces, waiting for someone. I'm looking for a sign with my name or the logo of the Hastings Agency.

I find my name in the hands of a boy a little taller than me. Dark hair and fair skin, he needs sun. In an impeccable suit, but fumbling with his cell phone and notepad.

I approach slowly, able to hear his voice, replaying a million things. He said something about waiting for me to arrive and taking me to the hotel. Something about treating me kindly and not asking questions. I stop in front of him with a sympathetic smile, watching him widen his eyes and quickly turn off his cell phone.

“Miss McGonagall, welcome to New York.” he takes my hand, squeezing it and shaking it quickly. “I'm Edward. I will be responsible for your schedule.” I can't control the smile, noticing him nervousness. In other words, he was my Noah.

“Hi! Yeah, you can call me Marnie, that's fine. I prefer, actually.”

“Oh! Of course.” his cheeks turn pink. “Well, I'll drop you off at the hotel to rest and tomorrow at 8:00 am you should be at Valentino's studio for the rehearsal of the new bag collection. At 2:45 pm you should already be at Chanel's studio, they want to take your measurements and do some color and fabric tests for the fashion show at the end of the month. Then, at 5:00 pm, you will participate in the E! podcast, and I believe that after that you will be free for the rest of the day.” he passes it on to me as we head out of the airport.

“OK!” that's all I have to say.

“Sorry if I'm being nosy, but were you the one who required a lot of work for the next two months? I mean, you have a really busy schedule. If you don't want something, I can try to help.” he flips through the calendar while we wait for a car.

“No! It's OK. I was the one who asked. I was down for a while and I need to get back to work.” I give a slight smile, debating. "Hm, was the doctor I asked for by any chance be marked?"

“Yes! Wednesday at 3pm.” he smiles proudly, making me smile too. Edward seems like a nice guy.

We got into a silver car and went to the hotel. Along the way, Edward answers a few calls, closing in on his tasks. I seize the moment and close myself in my own world. I get my cell phone, turning it on and seeing that tsunami of people looking for me. Missed calls, messages, dm on twitter and instagram, everyone looking for me, but not him.

I lock my cell phone, trying to focus my mind on the new beginning I sought for myself. I admire the city through the car window, trying to find a piece of home there. I feel the phone vibrate in my lap with Kyleen's name, but I just decline the call. In seconds, the screen lights up again and several messages come in, I believe they are hers, but I don't even bother to look. I have no courage.

The car stops in front of the Intercontinental, and just like that, Edward jumps out of the car.

“Your loft, unfortunately, is not ready yet. So you're going to have to stay here for a few days.” he explains, heading towards the reception desk.

I stand behind him, taking in the details of the hotel. Before long, I'm entering a room on the 14th floor, with a beautiful view of the city. The bags are left in the small room before the bedroom.

I smile at my new “Noah” showing that everything is perfect.

“Good! I'll let you rest for tomorrow. Anything, these are my phones.” he gives me a card. "And you can call me at any time. I live near here, I will come in a few minutes.”

“Thank you so much, Edward. You are very kind." Again, your cheeks turn pink.

As he heads for the door, I start rummaging through my bags for pajamas.

“Hm, sorry if I'm not being professional right now, but since I believe we'll be working together in the next few months, I imagine a good relationship is essential, so you can call me Eddie.”

I open an even bigger smile, seeing that Eddie was willing to make a friendship, which is perhaps the thing I need most at the moment.

“Thanks, Eddie!” he smiles and this time he walks away, leaving me alone again.

I go back to looking for a more comfortable outfit, ignoring my cell phone blinking on the table as I muted it. I grab my clothes, heading to a shower and stay there for a long time, letting the water take everything.

When I get out of the shower, I pick up the bedroom phone, dialing my mother's number, I don't want to take the risk of answering any of my cell phone calls.

"Hello?" her lost tone makes me smile weakly.

“Hi Mom!”

“Hi, my love. How are you? Marnie, what's going on? Leah came here to say you left without saying goodbye. I called Luke, but he did not answer me and Noah said something about you being to move to New York, you told me it would be just a month.” I cover the phone, not wanting her to hear my cry, letting the tears fall. "Marnie?"

“I'm sorry, Mom.” I can't control my voice and pretend it's okay.

“Honey, what's going on? You can tell me. Mom will help you.” I realize she wants to cry too, and that hurts me more.

“I needed to do this, needed to get away from him.” the revelation comes out before I can see it.

"He who? Luke? Why? I thought everything was fine.” her desperate tone returns.

“I'm sorry I can't talk.” I close my throat, holding back tears. “I just want to let you know that I arrived well and that everything is fine.”

“Fine? Marnie, just look at your voice, your condition. I saw what you did to the apartment. Honey, things aren't fine.” now she was angry.

“Mom, please just trust me. I know what I'm doing.” Do I? I clear my throat, holding back the emotion. “I just wanted to call to say I got okay. Later we'll talk.” I hang up the phone before she asks anything else.

I head to the bathroom, drying my hair. I notice that yesterday's anger is still in me as I can't face my image in the mirror, refusing to look deep into my eyes.

With dry hair, I go back to my room, thinking about taking a nap, since I haven't slept all night and even less on the flight. I close my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts on something else. I think about that taxi I saw earlier, trying to park. Or people crossing the street without looking at the sign. At the cookie shop I want to see.

I manage to evade Luke's, my mother's, John's, and Noah's voices, giving myself more and more to the sleep that finally came. Far away, I hear someone knocking hard on the door, but I ignore it, as I had the same thoughts yesterday morning. But I wake up when the pounding comes back stronger and Leah's voice enters the room.

“Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, open this shit now before I drop it and you know I'm capable of it.” I leap out of bed, running to the door.

She can’t be here.

I open the door, revealing Leah with perhaps the worst expression I've ever seen in the world. She was furious, if not more so. As she storms into my room without waiting for an invitation, I quickly look down the hall, seeing a couple look at me startled. I smile awkwardly, closing the door.

“What are you doing here?” I question, still not understanding.

"What are you doing here? And without warning anyone. Fading in the morning. Breaking up with Luke. What the fuck was that?” she screams.

For a second, I see that my amnesia was an issue with my plan. By not remembering my friendship with everyone, I really believed that I just left and everything would be fine. I didn't imagine anyone would cross the country for me, to understand what was going on.

And if Leah did it, it's a matter of hours before someone else does. They weren't going to leave me alone, they weren't going to forget me, and they weren't going to let this story pass. I need to push them away, but I don't know how.

"Go on, Marnie. What the fuck is going on? And if you tell me it's a job offer, I swear I'll fly at you without pity or mercy, and I'll slap the truth out.” she cross her arms.

I consider the last option a lot because I know she can do it. But I won't tell her the truth, that's not an alternative. I want to believe that if I don't back off, she'll see I'm not lying and won't attack me. And even if she tries, I just run away, I'm closer to the door and there's an armchair between us.

"But it is what it is!" I shrug.

“Stop it!” she screams. “Stop lying, Marnie. Everyone. Everyone knows you're lying, so why don't you tell the truth?” she waves her hands through the air.

“Because there's no other truth, Leah. Will I have to draw it for you?” I make the same moves she does.

“Be my guest!” she sits on the couch. I sigh wearily. I haven't slept for hours, I'm angry with myself and the world and now that I thought the situation was resolved and I just had to go on with my life, she comes and messes everything up.

“Why are you here?” I stay upright.

“I do not know! It must be cause you went crazy and disappeared without saying anything. Didn't answer my calls, no one had any answers about what was going on. So I took my father's jet and came to resolve this situation and I don't leave here without an answer at least.”

In the same way I laugh at Noah, I laugh at her, thinking it will fix everything. Leah carries the same expression as her brother, neutral, mocking.

“Why did you break up with Luke?” she asks quietly.

The mention of his name makes me shiver. I notice how my stomach turns and try to ignore it. I wonder if I can subtly extract some information from his state, but I don't want her to think I still care about him.

"Cause I wasn't in the mood anymore." I shrug, walking through space.

“My God, you've actually lied better.” I glare at her. “You know you're in trouble here, I know you better than anyone. I know you are lying and that you are going through some difficult situation. I even have my theories. So you're going to have to work a lot harder to trick me or get me out of here.” she cracks a smile, feeling victorious.

"Oh do you have? What are your theories?” I mock her.

“The first is that you really freaked out with amnesia and you can't handle it. The second is that you can't handle your feelings about Luke, it happened once before. And the third is that someone put some shit in your head and made you believe that everything would be better if you were out of the way.” I feel her gaze burning into me, looking for any reaction.

I let out a laugh, not forced, nervous that she got it right. Leah raises an eyebrow.

“You really traveled on your theories. Sorry, none are right.”

As if by magic, the answer appears to me. The only way I was going to get rid of everyone and go through with the plan without a hitch was to make her hate me. Make everyone hate me, just like I did Luke.

Just considering their hate for me makes my heart ache. But I need to do this. For Luke. For the boys. It's for their success.

“You know, a few months ago you were asked to be in a movie and you didn't take it cause you said you were a terrible actress. Isn't that right?” she gets up again. “Noah told me you said you were doing this for Luke, because you loved him. Marnie, what are you trying to hide?” she comes closer.

I feel dirty because of the attitude I'm going to take. It's low, very low, but I need her to hate me.

"Look who talks about hiding." I give a cynical laugh. Leah looks at me confused. "Don't you have anything to tell too?" she still doesn't understand. “You and Kyleen?”

Hastings freezes. The bitter taste of my act starts to fill my mouth. I’m sorry, Leah. I’m so sorry.

“How do you know?” she takes a step back.

"Who do you think closed the bathroom door on Ash's birthday?" I raise my eyebrows.

“Is not the same thing.”

“It isn’t? Aren't you hiding something from all of us?” I force a smile like hers a few minutes ago.

“No! Cause I'm not pushing everyone away, I'm not telling lies. And if you asked me, I would tell you the truth. Deep down, you know why I didn't say anything. You know my dad hasn't accepted Noah yet, that this is a problem in our family, and you know he wouldn't accept me either. You know that deep down I'm trying to protect both of us.”

“Oh! Do I?” I debauchery more. Right now, I feel horrible when I see your eyes water. I'm so, so sorry.

“I know what you're trying to do and I'm not going to stage it.” she walks past me to the door.

"Didn't you want to talk? I am talking.” Leah turns to me, straining the knife I carried in my chest, letting me see her crying face.

“You're trying to make me hate you.” now I'm the one who freezes. She laughs. “See how I know you? You are very predictable, Marnie. And as much as I know of your intention, I will not allow you to reach your goal. I hope that one day, not too far away, you realize what a big shit you're doing.” she opens the door, going. “Oh, and before I forget, since it's meant to hurt. Congrats, since your little chat with Luke, he's been locked in his room, needing Michael to keep an eye on him.” so Leah slams the door and strikes the final blow.

I bite the inside of my mouth, letting the tears fall. Honestly, I didn't even have the strength to hold back anymore. The rage burning inside me gives way to pain. I imagine Luke locked in his room, lying on the bed, hating me. Hating what we had and what we thought we had.

I walk over to my suitcase, pulling out a package, with the photos I'd taken from the box and the little white box he'd given me. I open it, holding the necklace with his name on it, the one he gave me.

Even knowing what I had to do, I wouldn't get rid of this necklace, I don't have the courage. It was easier to buy an equal one and put it in his hand. What he did to me would be kept with me forever.

““Closed eyes.” he fights.

"I have my eyes closed." I rebate. “Lucas…” I chide him, when I feel his lips on the back of my neck.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” I hold back the urge to laugh. “Closed eyes.”

"If you say it one more time, you'll get hit." I threat.

"How, if you can't see me?" right now, the urge to hit him is so strong that I follow the sound of his voice, trying to kick him. “Hey! No rudeness, otherwise you'll be left without a gift.” the false authoritative tone makes me angrier. “Good girl!”

“Go!” I kicked.

I'm startled by the icy touch against my neck. It's a necklace. Eagerly, I touch the pendant, recognizing the shape. He didn't do it.

“You can open it.” his hands move to my hips, hugging me.

With my eyes open, I run my vision to my neck, finding there a necklace just like his but blue.

“Happy Birthday!” he drops a kiss on my cheek.

I hold the blue quartz, seeing Luke's name engraved on the back. I let a stupid smile spread across my face, glaring at my boyfriend with the same.

"Want to explain why we're wearing practically identical necklaces?"

“It's a little obvious. Couples wear rings and I know what a problem you have with rings.”

“It’s not a problem.” I try to defend myself.

“It's just Alzheimer's. You know, in some people, it starts before they're 70 years old.” I hit him, and he laughs, before he hugs me. "Like I was saying, I know you're not into wearing a ring, so since I already had my necklace, I thought you'd have yours. That way we'll always be close to each other's hearts.” I rest my hands on his shoulders, standing on tiptoes.

"Have I told you I love you today?" I whisper, moving closer.

“Not after 5 pm.” he pouted, looking at the clock on the wall.

I don't know how I managed to kiss him with such a stupid smile on my face.

“Why do I like you, huh?” I question, stealing a little kiss.

“Because I'm cheesy and romantic. And even if you deny it, I know you get attached to it.” he opens a victorious smile.

"Don't ever say 'get attached' again." I beg laughing.

"What is it, bae? That was awesome.” he laughs.

“No!” I scream, laughing.

"What is it, babe girl? Don't you stick to my way of get in?” he keeps teasing me.

I place my lips on yours, determined to shut your mouth and thank you that it works. My mental reminder of “we're late for dinner” evaporates when his hands reach under my shirt. I scratch the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“We're late for dinner.” he says against my mouth as I start to unbutton his shirt.

“Just say the traffic was like hell.” I suggest kissing his neck.

Luke accepts the idea, picking me up and walking me back to the bedroom."

It's not hard to know that we were late for dinner that day. But I didn't care, I had been given a necklace with his name on it, a necklace that showed how our relationship was getting more and more serious.

I also realize that the two times I got this necklace, at least once I ended up in bed with him. In fact, in both, but only one made it to the end.

“I hate myself.” I say tiredly, going to the minibar to get anything containing alcohol that makes me forget everything.

I call the front desk for two bottles of champagne and the biggest snack they have. I pick up the small whiskey bottles, turning one after the other, as if they were shot. I shake my head, wanting the effect to start faster.

“I hate myself. Leah hates me. Kiki must hate me now too. Just like Noah and everyone else there. Everybody hates me.” I turn the last one over, shaking my head once more. “Luke hates me. Hates me too much.” I comment, hugging the pillow.

I pick up a Polaroid of ours, staring at our happiness marked there. What am I doing?

I throw my head in my hands, lost. I wonder what might happen if I crawl into bed and don't go out for the rest of the month. Probably more people will hate me, but who doesn't hate me now? I mean, just get in line.

Awakened from the thought, when someone knocks on the door. For a second, I wonder who it was, then remember I ordered room service. I walk to the door, feeling the weight of the six small bottles.

My stomach churns and I feel an overwhelming urge to vomit as I land my eyes on the redhead in front of me. Red-haired?

"Bethany?"

16 notes · View notes