I need a fucking miracle

・┈・୨୧・┈・

The next morning you woke up to warmth. Not from the covers, but from the fingers slowly running through your hair. It was gentle enough that it barely disturbed your sleep, fingertips combing through the strands before settling at the back of your head.

Then came a soft kiss against your forehead.

“...Sweetheart?”

You made a sleepy noise of protest, burying your face further into the pillow that smelt so much like him. But then a kiss came again, to your cheek this time.

“Morning.”

“No…” You grumbled into the pillow.

“No?” Noah smiled to himself, “But you’ve got work today.”

“Not anymore. I quit.”

Noah let out a quiet laugh, his fingertips gently stroking over your arm this time.

“You did, did you?”

“Mhm.”

“When?”

“...Now.”

Another kiss was pressed to your temple.

“Well that’s unfortunate, baby. ‘Cause I already made you breakfast.”

You cracked an eye open.

“Is this a bribe?”

“Of course not.” He chuckled, “Just... encouragement.”

You squinted up at him, still too sleepy to properly focus. But you noticed his hair was damp as if he’d just showered, and he’d already changed into a pair of black joggers and a fitted dark grey t-shirt. He looked like he’d been awake for hours…

“When did you wake up?” You asked.

“Five thirty.”

“What?!” You suddenly opened both eyes, and Noah smirked.

“Yep. I woke up early, went out for a run, took a shower…”

“You do that for fun?”

He chuckled, nodding his head.

“Well, yeah. I do enjoy it.”

“Mm, you’re weird.” You said, smiling sleepily as you tried to hide beneath the covers again.

You had decided you were staying here all day. The bed was warm, it smelled like Noah, there was absolutely no reason to leave it… until a few moments later, when you felt him gently tug the covers back enough for your face to reappear.

“C’mon, baby. Remember what you told me yesterday?”

“...No?”

He let out a breath of laughter, before his hand returned to your hair, scratching lightly against your scalp.

“You said if you didn’t go to work it’d drive you insane.” He said, making you groan, “So unfortunately…”

“...I have to go.” You finished his sentence with the deepest sigh imaginable. Then you slowly pushed yourself up, your hair a complete mess as you rubbed your eyes. “Fine.”

He smiled, then slowly stood up from the bed.

“Want coffee?”

“Mhm.” You nodded before yawning. “Please.”

“It’s downstairs.”

“You didn’t bring it up?” You frowned, and he shook his head. “Why not?”

“If I brought it up here, you’d drink it, roll back over and go straight back to sleep.”

Well… he had a point.

You got out of bed eventually and followed him downstairs to the kitchen. You saw the plate on the kitchen counter with a couple mugs of coffee beside it, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You made me breakfast, coffee, and you’re driving me to work?”

“Yep.” He nodded.

You looked up at him, studying his face for a moment before giving him a cheeky grin.

“...I could get used to this, y’know.”

…

After getting ready and getting in the car, the drive to work felt oddly normal. It was nothing like Paris, the drives to and from the fancy hotel with shopping bags piled high. It was just a cold Monday morning, and an ordinary drive through your city while the radio quietly played, filling the silence.

You glanced over at Noah, he had one hand resting lazily on the wheel,his sunglasses hid his eyes, but you could still see how soft his face was, like this wasn’t an inconvenience to him in the slightest.

“So…” he said after a comfortable few minutes in silence, “How’re you feeling about going back to work after the weekend we've just had?”

“I’ll probably get through it.” You sighed. “It all depends on whether the customers remember a frappuccino isn’t supposed to be hot.”

Noah chuckled at that, and slowly came to a stop at a red light. Without really thinking about it, he reached across and rested his hand on your knee, his thumb softly over the fabric of your jeans before his attention returned to the lights ahead.

You looked down at his hand, then at him, and the softest, giddiest smile spread across your face. Though he didn’t notice, he was too busy looking at the mirrors before making a turn.

“So…” you asked, “What are your plans today?”

Noah let out a sigh, glancing at you for a second before answering.

“Work.” He said simply, and you nodded, not expecting him to elaborate further. “I’m gonna be in the studio for a few hours going over something with a couple of the guys, then I’ve got a meeting at 2. It should be over by the time you finish though, so I should be able to pick you up. Otherwise I’ll send a car… if that’s okay?”

You nodded your head.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

He smiled and gave your knee a soft squeeze. After that, another comfortable silence settled between you two, and you found yourself absent mindedly fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist without even realising it. But the moment you caught yourself, you stopped. Then you turned to him again.

“…Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Do you ever stop?”

He glanced at you again, his eyebrows drawn together.

“What d’you mean?”

“You’ve been up since five thirty."

“Mhm.”

“You went for a run, showered, made me breakfast… and now you’re driving me to work.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re gonna be busy practically all day.”

“Yep.”

“…When do you actually relax?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, long enough that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you. But then he finally smiled to himself.

“When I’m with you.”

That suddenly made your heart flutter.

“What?”

He shrugged one shoulder, as though he’d just commented on something as simple as the weather.

“You heard me.”

Before you could say anything, or try to process that, you realised where you were. Noah had pulled into the staff car park outside your work, and you felt a little disappointed knowing this would be the first time since Thursday that you two would be apart.

“Alright.” He said as he put the car into park.

You sighed, and he reached over, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve got this.” He smiled. “And if anyone gives you a hard time…”

“I’ll send them your way.” You smiled.

“Exactly.”

You chuckled, shaking your head softly.

“Thank you… for this.”

“For what?”

“Everything. Breakfast, the lift, letting me stay at your place… making sure I actually got out of bed.”

He smiled.

“My pleasure.”

You reached for the door handle-

“Sweetheart.” He said, and you paused and looked back to see Noah’s expression had softened again. “Have a good day.”

God, the words were so simple, but something about the way he said them made your tummy feel warm and fuzzy.

“You too.” You said as you climbed out, adjusting the strap of your new Dior bag on your shoulder.

Noah watched you walk towards the entrance for a second before rolling down his window.

“Hey.”

You turned around and he nodded towards your handbag.

“Don’t let Tom have a heart attack when he sees that.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“No promises.”

“I’ll keep my phone on.”

“Just in case?”

“Just in case.” He grinned.

Still smiling, you turned and headed inside, the familiar little bell above the cafe door chimed as you opened it, and immediately the rich strong smell of fresh coffee beans filled the air around you.

You smiled to yourself as you headed behind the counter, already reaching for your apron.

“You are late.” You looked up to see Tom leaning against the espresso machine with his arms folded rather dramatically.

You glanced at the clock.

“I am two minutes early, actually.” You pointed out.

“…Damn it.”

You grinned, and he pushed himself off the counter and wandered over, pulling you into a quick hug.

“Welcome back.”

“Missed me?”

“No.”

“You liar.”

“Fine. Maybe a little.”

You laughed, walking into the little staff room, hanging your jacket up on the hook.

“So…” Tom drew the word out far longer than necessary. “…How was Paris?”

You couldn’t help smiling.

“It was…” Your brain immediately filled with images. Noah kissing your forehead as the Eiffel Tower sparkled behind him, breakfast on the balcony, shopping, falling asleep on him every night. And the sex… oh the sex. “…Really nice.”

Tom narrowed his eyes.

“‘Really nice? That’s all I’m getting?”

“For now.” You smirked.

“Oh, hell no.” He pointed a finger at you. “You disappear for a few days with Mr Millionaire and come back saying it was ‘really nice’?”

“He’s not a millionaire.” You chuckled.

“Y/n, if he’s not a millionaire then how do you explain literally everything about him?”

“…Fair point.” You said quietly after a moment.

“I want details, by the way. Detailed details.”

“You’ll get them… just not when we’re about to open.”

“You’re so boring.” Tom groaned.

“I’ve just taken two days off and I’ve got a job I’d like to keep, thank you very much.”

Tom sighed, and you set your bag down to grab your phone out of it… and then he suddenly went completely silent. When you turned back around, slipping your phone into your pocket, he was staring at your handbag.

“…y/n?”

“…Yeah?”

“…Whose bag is that?”

You looked down innocently.

“Mine?”

“No… that is not the bag you left here with.”

“No?”

“You left with an ugly tote… the one with the hole in the bottom.”

“Wow, thanks!” You scoffed.

“You’ve come back with…” He leaned closer. “…Is that fucking Dior?”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile.

“…Maybe.”

Tom’s eyes widened.

“Is this from who I think it’s from?”

You couldn’t help the giddy smile spreading across your face.

“...Maybe?”

“Mr Millionaire? Shit, how much did he spend on you out there?”

You thought about the perfumes, the other bags, the dresses, the jewellery, the shoes.

“…I don’t actually want to add it up.”

“Oh my god.” His eyes widened, “And has he wanted sex yet? I mean, I’d give it to him even without the gifts and-”

“Tom!” You gasped, your cheeks suddenly turning red, “No, he hasn’t wanted anything… however…”

His jaw dropped.

“You did it?” He waved his hands in excitement, “You fucked Mr Millionaire?!”

“Please stop calling him that,” you laughed as you walked out towards the counter, “And… yes,” you added quietly, “We did do it. Twice, actually.”

You had never seen Tom’s eyes so wide, nor his grin. He looked like he was the one who’d been taken to Paris.

“And how was it? Was he good? Was he big? Did he-”

“I don’t know if this is something we should talk about when a customer could walk in at literally any moment.”

“I don’t care!” He waved a hand, “I need these details!!”

You chuckled, leaning against the counter.

“Fine. It was good- better than good. I don’t even have words to explain it. He knew just what to do, where to touch, what to say… except, the first time we did it, he got a little carried away.”

“How?” Tom asked, his face suddenly softening.

“He was just saying these things, but we talked about it the next day. He said he was just playing into the whole sugar daddy sugar baby thing.”

“...Saying what kinda things?” He asked cautiously.

You sighed, not wanting to think about it.

“Well… he was saying this like this is what I pay for, which made no sense to me because he said in the beginning he didn’t even want sex?”

“Mm,” Tom hummed, “But he is a man at the end of the day, so…”

“I know.” You sighed, “But… I dunno, I believe him. He isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever known, Tom. He’s so… he’s so sweet. He’s so considerate, so selfless. I know he really cares about me-”

“Wait wait wait,” Tom stopped you, “Are you two like… a thing?”

You hesitated for a moment.

“…I don’t actually know. We’re… whatever this is.” You let out a sigh, pushing yourself up from the counter.

Tom’s expression softened.

“…And how’re you feeling about that?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“…Confused.” You confessed, then a smile crept onto your face despite yourself. “…But happy. Very happy.”

Tom nodded his head.

“Yeah, I could tell from the way you were glowing as you came in. Did you stay with him last night?”

You let out a long sigh.

“Yeah… it’s a long story.”

Tom glanced at the door quickly before looking back at you.

“It’s looking like we've got a slow morning. We’ve got time.”

“I guess,” you nodded. “The ceiling kinda fell through in my apartment… so I’m staying with him until it’s fixed.”

Tom’s face scrunched in confusion, then softened.

“...What?”

But before you could explain any more, the bell chimed on the door, and Tom suddenly spun around, all bright smiles for the first customer of the day, making you chuckle.

…

Clearly, being spoiled over the weekend wasn’t for the best, since you were now struggling to function at work. Your feet ached, you were sweating, and you just wanted to sit down. You were counting down the minutes to your lunch break, and when it finally rolled around, you basically ripped off your apron.

“You good?” Tom asked as he passed you a sandwich from behind the counter, and you shook your head, making him laugh. “Go take your break.”

And so you did. You took the sandwich and headed for the little staff room at the back of the cafe, feeling relief instantly when you sat down, letting out a long sigh.

When you pulled your phone out, you noticed there was a text from your landlord. He told you the inspection had been delayed to tomorrow, and apologised for any inconvenience. You rolled your eyes, and decided enough was enough.

You opened up your browser, and searched properties to rent near me, and tapped onto the first website that came up. You scrolled through it slowly, chewing on your sandwich.

There were a few one/two bedroom houses, but they were pretty expensive, and too far from work. You couldn’t imagine yourself in a studio apartment- the place you lived in right now was already small enough...

Why was it so overwhelming?

You liked your little apartment, it wasn’t much, it was small but cozy, had questionable plumbing and the walls were paper thin, but it was your home. Now, as you were looking through photos of pristine and empty places, everything suddenly felt super stressful.

You even found yourself wondering… would Noah come with you to look at them?

The thought made you smile. You could already picture him wandering around an empty apartment, opening cupboards, checking windows, asking questions you would’ve never thought to ask.

How old are the windows? Any damp? Plumbing issues?- After what had happened to your apartment, you could imagine that would be the first thing on his mind.

Then another thought slipped into your mind. He’d probably insist on paying the rent.

You stared at the screen, thinking about how he’d offered you so much already. A trip to Paris without you spending a penny, paying for you to get your hair and nails done whenever you want, even offering you his own home…

But would you even let him pay for something like that? He’d already helped you out a while ago when you were behind on rent, and you hated that as it was.

Your eye caught another listing before your phone buzzed in your hand, it was a message notification, and your heart fluttered the moment you saw his name appear.

Noah 🤍: How’s my favourite barista doing?

You smiled so quickly your cheeks hurt.

You: Not bad. She survived the morning :)

Three little dots appeared, and after a couple seconds, his next message popped up.

Noah 🤍: Oh yeah? Anything interesting happen?

You: Not really, it’s just been really busy and I feel extra tired today :(

You: But Tom’s reaction to the new bag was hilarious though. I wish you could’ve seen his face

Noah 🤍: I can imagine

Noah 🤍: Have you eaten?

You looked down at the half finished sandwich in your lap. Of course that was his next question.

You: Yep I’m on my lunch break right now 😊

Noah 🤍: Good.

You smiled at the one word, and decided to tease him.

You: Good?

You: That’s all I get? 🙁

Noah 🤍: Fine fine.

Noah 🤍: Good girl

Your stomach fluttered, and you glanced around the empty staff room as though someone might somehow read over your shoulder.

You were beginning to like this a little too much.

Noah 🤍: That what you wanted to hear?

You: Yep thank you :)

Noah 🤍: Noted

Noah 🤍: I’ve got meetings to go to soon baby so I might be quiet for a bit. But if you need me, call.

It was silly how something as simple as that made your heart soften, like he’d answer no matter what he was doing… for you.

You: Thanks, I’ll be okay.

Noah 🤍: I know you will. Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you though

You stared at the message for a moment, smiling to yourself.

“So…”

You suddenly looked up to find Tom standing in the doorway with a coffee in his hand.

“What’s Mr Millionaire saying now? Wanna fuck in my penthouse then fly out to Italy for a week?”

You locked your phone and rolled your eyes.

“Shut up.” You groaned as you stood up, then quickly finished your sandwich before throwing the wrapper away.

Just as Tom was about to say something else, the bell above the door chimed, and he let out a sigh as he spun on his heels and walked back up to the counter.

You smirked, and picked your phone back up from the table. You unlocked it, then suddenly remembered what you were doing before Noah began to text you.

“Tom…” You called as you stepped out of the staff room and reached for your apron again, “Can I ask you something?”

“…Depends. Do I get something out of it?” He said, leaning against the counter.

Your eyebrows drew together.

“…I dunno, maybe?”

He nodded his head.

“Then go ahead.”

You took your phone back out of your pocket and scrolled to one of the apartments you’d saved.

“What do you think of this?”

Tom leaned in closer to get a better look.

It was a beautiful, modern one bedroom apartment with huge windows in the living room, a little balcony, a gorgeous kitchen…

“Uh...” He began, pulling a face.

“What?” You asked suddenly.

“This is nice…” you braced yourself for the ‘but’. “But the rent? Do you even make that in a year?”

“That’s the thing-“

“Oh no.” Tom immediately looked suspicious, but folded his arms. “Keep going. I'm listening.”

You looked back down at your phone.

“Would you say it’s a bad idea to move somewhere you couldn’t normally afford… if someone else was paying the rent?”

Tom stared at you.

“You mean Noah?”

Slowly, and almost reluctantly, you nodded your head.

“Has Noah offered to pay your rent?”

“A couple times, but he doesn’t know I’ve been looking at new places.”

Tom nodded his head, seeming almost a little confused.

“Then why are we having this conversation if you know he would?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know… it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to feel like I’m using him.”

Tom snorted so loudly that a couple heads turned.

“He’s your sugar daddy!” He exclaimed, “That’s what you’re supposed to do! That’s literally what he wants you to do!!”

You pulled a face.

“Yeah… but he’s not exactly a conventional sugar daddy, is he?”

“What, you mean he’s not a lonely old creep?” Tom laughed, and you couldn't help but chuckle too.

“I mean…”

“No,” Tom continued, “He isn't. Instead you’ve got a stupidly attractive guy who looks like he was hand scuplted by god herself, so now you feel guilty.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again.

He was right.

“I knew it.”

“I don’t know how I feel, Tom.” You groaned, tipping your head back in frustration.

His grin faded a little when he noticed just how serious you were being.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything! Everything about him!” You sighed, “When we were away… it felt like we were a couple. Other than the one time during sex, he’s never made it feel like we’re just an arrangement. He calls me names like baby and sweetheart, and when we cuddle it doesn’t feel like it’s forced or fake… we've talked about it once, I asked him what this is but I didn't get a straight answer. He just basically told me he likes having me around. I just don’t know...”

Silence settled between you, and Tom looked at you for a long moment before speaking.

“…Have you told him any of that?”

You looked up immediately.

“What? No!”

“Why not?”

“Because what if I’m completely wrong? What if he just wants fun? What if that’s… just how he is?”

Tom gave you a look.

“Maybe you should do an experiment?” Tom smirked, “See how he reacts if he thinks someone else is into you. Maybe tell him a customer hit on you at work, asked for your number, asked you on a date- and see how he reacts.”

You thought about it for a moment.

That was a good idea… wasn’t it?

“But what if he doesn’t react?” You asked quietly, “We’re not exclusive, or at least he’s not said we are. For all I know, he could be with another girl right now! So what if he just says that’s nice, have fun! And then I spend the rest of my life feeling like an idiot?”

“...Then don’t do it.”

“But… you just told me I should?!” You frowned.

“I know... but really think about it. If Noah does like you like that, then intentionally making him jealous would only hurt him. And if he doesn’t react… then you’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

You sighed, turning with your back to the counter.

“You're so fucking confusing." You said under your breath, shaking your head, "So then what am I supposed to do, Tom?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe he’s wondering exactly the same thing,” he said, “What if he likes things how they are, and he wants it to stay this way, and that's why he's not said anything. Or even, what if from his point of view he’s thinking I don’t want to pressure her.”

For the first time in all the time you’ve known him… Tom actually had a point.

…

The rest of the day passed quite nicely. A few regulars came in and you had a chat, a couple older ladies were telling you how pretty you looked, before trying to set you up with their sons- Tom stepped in when he had finished laughing at your awkwardness, telling them you were already seeing somebody. You served one of your old teachers from school, who you had a laugh with when you "accidentally" spelled his name wrong on his cup, because he always spelled your name wrong at school.

Even if you weren’t completely exhausted, by the time the clock crept towards six, you were just ready to go home.

You were cleaning the espresso machine when your phone started to buzz on the counter. You ignored it at first, but then it buzzed again, and again.

“Wanna get that?” Tom asked as he carried a tray of mugs past, “It might be your landlord.”

You nodded, and stopped what you were doing. But when you read the name on the screen, your heart skipped a beat, and you tapped on the message.

Noah 🤍: Baby I’m so sorry

Your smile faded just as quickly as it appeared.

Noah 🤍: This meetings massively overrun, I’ve been trying to get out of it for the last hour.

Noah 🤍: I don’t think I’m gonna make it to you in time

Your shoulders sank just a little, because you’d spent all day looking forward to seeing him again. It felt silly since he only dropped you off this morning, yet you still spent the last hour imagining him pulling up outside, climbing out of the car with a little smile as he spotted you through the cafe window.

*buzz*

Noah 🤍: I’ve arranged for a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about ten minutes. There’s a spare key under the little ceramic plant pot by the front door so you can let yourself in.

Noah 🤍: I’m really sorry sweetheart.

You stared at the last message for a few seconds, you could almost hear the guilt in his voice through the text. You knew that he hated breaking promises, especially to you.

You: It’s fine :)

You: I hope your meeting goes okay

Before you could lock your phone, he had replied again.

Noah 🤍: Thank you. I promise I’ll make it up to you ❤️

Your heart squeezed, because he didn’t have to say that, he hadn’t done anything wrong. You could already tell his job was pretty stressful, and after the morning he had you weren’t sure if he had a moment to rest all day.

“You alright?” Tom’s voice pulled you back, and you looked up to find him watching you from the other end of the counter.

“…Yeah. I will be.”

…

The black car pulled up to the curb outside the cafe five minutes after Tom left, and you suddenly felt like someone important. It was only a short drive back to Noah’s place, and you watched out the window the entire ride, watching the sun begin to dip below the rooftops.

You thanked the driver as you got out, after pulling into Noah’s driveway. He told you to have a lovely evening, to which you smiled and replied you too.

You walked up to the door, and spotted the plant pot, and the spare key was exactly where Noah said it would be. You smiled as you picked it up and slid it into the door, twisting it before stepping inside.

It felt strangely normal, coming home to here. Immediately you were greeted by the now familiar scent of fresh laundry, cedarwood and coffee, and you pushed the door shut behind you. You slipped your shoes off and hung your jacket on the hook beside his, you also set your handbag down on the little table in the hallway, where he had told you he’d made some space for you this morning.

You paused, and then glanced around, thinking what now?

It felt odd having an entire house- though it felt more like a mansion- to yourself. Your apartment had been so tiny that no matter where you stood, you could see almost every room. But this place… you could probably lose yourself in it.

You slowly stepped into the kitchen as you wondered what to do, and you noticed how everything was spotless. The mugs you’d both used that morning were drying beside the sink, the crumbs you left on the island (which you offered to clean, but to no surprise, he didn’t let you) had been wiped away, ans the surface was almost sparkling.

His house was just so comfortable and peaceful and just homely, the total opposite of your cluttered little apartment.

You checked your phone again, but there was still nothing new, besides a few emails. Part of you considered texting him to let you know you were home, but then you imagined him sitting in the middle of a meeting somewhere, surrounded by managers, discussing… whatever it is he discusses. He didn’t need his phone buzzing every five minutes.

Besides, you were exhausted. Your feet ached from standing all day, your hair felt like it’d been tied up too tight and you hated how your clothes felt like they’ve become a second skin. When you glanced at the clock, you realised it was only 6:30. Surely you had time to have a shower before Noah got home.

So you headed up the stairs, grabbed your towel and your toiletries bag, and made your way to his bathroom. You stopped questioning it now, you stopped feeling like you were imposing. His room just felt safe and inviting, so you organised your things on his bed before walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on.

When you stepped in, you let out a long sigh. This was just what you needed after your first day back. You washed away the smell of coffee grounds and syrup from the cafe, letting the hot water ease the ache in your back and shoulders, and you felt yourself finally relax.

Afterwards, you wrapped yourself in one of his big, soft, fluffy towels before wandering back into the bedroom. You reached for your pyjamas, then smiled to yourself… and you turned your head towards Noah’s wardrobe instead. One door had been slightly left open, and you could already see a couple of his tshirts, so you reached for one and slipped it on after drying yourself, with nothing but a soft, comfy pair of cotton underwear underneath.

The first thing you noticed was that the shirt smelled like him, and it almost fell to the middle of your thighs. You couldn’t stop smiling when you caught sight of yourself in his mirror… but then it faded when the thought came to you again, is this normal for this kind of arrangement?

You shook your head, trying to shake it off, and instead, you looked at his bed. His big, comfy, welcoming bed. With a little smile, you pulled the covers back on the side you slept on last night, and you lied down with a soft sigh. You then reached for his pillow, hugging it against your chest- it still carried traces of his aftershave, his shampoo, and just… him.

You pulled the covers over you and let your eyes fall shut for a moment, and you could tell you were about to drift off. So before you did, you reached for your phone on his bedside table.

There were still no new messages, so you typed one out instead.

You: I forgot to let you know I’m back at yours ❤️

You: I hope the meeting ends soon. And I thought I’d let you know I’m stealing your bed for a nap :)

You hesitated before adding one more message.

You: Wake me up when you get home?

You hit send on the last message before locking your phone and setting it back down on the table. You turned onto your side again, and hugged his pillow a little tighter. You told yourself you’d only let yourself nap for an hour, unless Noah comes home to wake you beforehand. Maybe you’d wake up to him kissing your forehead again, or playing with your hair, or better- maybe you’d wake up to him between your- no. No dirty thoughts while you’re alone in his bed!

Before you knew it, you’d drifted off with a little smile on your face…

Only to wake up all alone.

Your eyes were still closed as you reached across the bed, something that’s recently become an instinct, half expecting to find warm skin beneath your fingertips. But instead, your hand met cold sheets. The smile you’d fallen asleep wearing slowly faded, and you rolled onto your back, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you looked around the bedroom.

It was dark now, and the room was exactly how you left it- all the lights off, curtains slightly open, door open just a little. With a sigh, you sat yourself up and reached for your phone on the bedside table.

9:02pm

You frowned, had you really slept that long? There were still no new messages, no missed calls, nothing. He hadn’t even read the messages you sent before your nap.

Poor guy, he must still be in the meeting. You could tell how guilty he felt about not being able to pick you up from work earlier, and if he hadn’t even had thirty seconds to just read your messages you knew this was out of his hands.

After a couple minutes, you climbed out of bed and wandered down the stairs barefoot. His house was still so calm and peaceful, no music, no voices, no heavy footsteps upstairs. You decided to sit in the living room, you put the TV on, and then sank into his stupidly comfy couch- which was probably more comfortable than your bed back at home.

You put some random cooking competition show on, because there wasn’t really anything else to watch and you didn’t want to use his netflix without asking first. But you weren’t really watching it. You were too busy thinking about what Tom had said earlier...

Sure, he might’ve just been joking, but was it really a bad idea? What if you accidentally make him jealous, pretend you don’t realise what you’re doing, just to see how he’d react? Not tonight, of course. Your heart already hurt at the thought of how tired and stressed he must be.

You were lost in your thoughts for almost half an hour, you were curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, when all of a sudden headlights swept across the ceiling.

You immediately sat upright. You could hear the sound of a car engine, and your heart suddenly leapt. You reached for the remote and paused the TV. You heard the sound of the engine turning off, then a car door slamming shut. You heard keys rattling, then the front door swung open.

“Noah…?” You called out, standing up and walking into the hallway.

“Baby, I’m so sorry…” A tired voice answered, and your heart shattered.

He pushed the door shut behind him, and when he turned back around he looked utterly exhausted, and not just in a way that an early night could fix.

His hair was messy from running his hand through it, his eyes looked so tired and lifeless, yet when he met your eyes, he smiled. You could tell just by the way he was looking at you, the way his face slightly softened, that he’d been looking forward to coming home.

You crossed the hallway without a word, a frown pulling at your lips as you wrapped your arms around him. You felt his body relax, one hand settled against the back of your head while the other was gently resting on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, then he rested his cheek against the top of your head.

Then he let out the deepest sigh, one he’d clearly been holding in all day.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair, “The meeting was supposed to finish at five, it was just to discuss the tour that's coming up soon and some festivals that we’ve been offered to headline, but then they started talking about other things and it was getting longer and longer and more people were coming in…”

You looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, “You can’t help it.”

He huffed a sigh, shaking his head.

“No, but I should’ve said I had plans or that I had to leave early, or-”

You pressed a finger to his lips, and his eyes widened a little.

“Stop stressing, Noah.” You said gently, “You look exhausted. You’ve really not stopped since this morning, have you?”

He shook his head, almost a little shyly. You gave him an almost sad smile, reaching up and smoothing his hair back where it had fallen over his eyes.

“Have you eaten?” You asked.

“...Not since breakfast. I’ve had coffee and a protein bar.”

You frowned.

“Oh, Noah…”

“It’s fine. I’ll order something in.” He said, already reaching into his pocket for his phone, but you shook your head.

“No you won’t.”

His eyebrows drew together, but you were already taking his hand, leading him into the kitchen.

“Baby, you’ve been on your feet all day. I can’t expect you to-”

“Shh.” You hushed him and pointed to the chairs pulled up to the island, “Sit.”

“You should be the one sitting.”

You folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m fine, Noah. Now c’mon.”

He tilted his head.

“You’ve already eaten dinner?”

“I shared a pizza with Tom before we closed.”

“Good.”

“So now,” you pulled one of the chairs out, “I want to make you something.”

“Baby,” his voice softened, “You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” You smirked.

“Fine.” He said after a long pause, with a long sigh as he sat down, “If it makes you happy.”

So he sat there, watching you with the tiniest smile as you wandered around his kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers.

“You know where everything is?” He asked.

“...I’m figuring it out.” You said with a chuckle.

“What do you plan on making?” He asked, resting an elbow on the island, his chin settling into his palm as he watched you inspect the contents of his fridge.

That was a very good question.

You closed the fridge with a smile.

“It’s a surprise.” You said, and he watched you reach for a saucepan.

“You’re making pasta, aren’t you?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed!” You smiled as you reached into one of the drawers.

“I’m not disappointed.”

“Good,” you pointed a wooden spoon at him. “It’s a comfort food. I’d always make it if I had a bad day.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, “Then it sounds perfect.”

You smiled, filling the pan with water, then you stole a glance at him. Oh, he made your heart hurt. His eyes were heavy, he was more quiet than usual- it made you want to wrap him in a blanket and make him sleep for a week.

You turned the heat on before walking back over to him, and without saying anything, you rested your hands carefully on either side of his face.

He looked up at you, and gave you a sleepy smile.

“…Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You’ve gone all serious.” He said.

“Mhm. You’ve got tired eyes.”

“I know.”

Your thumbs gently brushed beneath them.

“You’ve been working too hard.” You told him, and he gave you a weak, almost apologetic smile.

“It happens.”

“It shouldn’t.”

Neither of you spoke for a little moment, he just let out another little sigh before pulling you a little closer to him.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know.” You frowned, “But I’m going to anyway.”

He let out a quiet breath through his nose.

“Yeah I had a feeling you’d say that.”

You stroked your thumb softly across his cheek.

“Can you do something for me?” You asked.

His expression immediately became attentive.

“Anything.”

“When you’ve finished eating…” You hesitated for a moment, before finishing, “…Will you stop working for tonight?”

His brows knitted together.

“I’ve still got a few emails-”

“Noah.”

He looked at you, and saw the stern look on your face, and his shoulders dropped a little.

“You said you’d do anything.” You smirked.

“I did.”

“So…?”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You make it very difficult to say no.” He said, smiling up at you, “You know I’ll always end up doing exactly what you want.”

You grinned.

“So no emails?”

He shook his head.

“No, baby. I’m all yours.”

“Good,” you smiled, “We’re going straight to bed after dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said with a nod of his head, and you burst into laughter.

“You are never calling me that again.”

He smiled, watching as you took the bag of pasta from the cupboard and carefully poured some into the pan. His smile then softened, becoming something more vulnerable.

“…Thank you.” The words were so quiet you almost didnt hear them. They weren’t playful or teasing, they were genuine and made your heart feel soft.

“Of course.” You said gently, pretending you hadn’t noticed how much it had meant for him to say that.

Because he’s spent so much of his life making sure everyone else was okay, that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to let someone take care of him.

…

Outside the big glass kitchen doors, the sky was now a beautiful deep blue. Noah finished every last bite of his pasta, and despite teasing you about how simple it had been while you were cooking, he said,

“That might’ve been the best meal I’ve had all week.” As he carried his bowl over to the sink.

“But we’ve just come home from Paris.” You chuckled.

“Mm,” he hummed, “But none of that was made by you.”

You rolled your eyes and gently nudged him with your shoulder.

“Go have a shower, get ready for bed.” You told him, making him look at you rather suspiciously.

“You’re bossing me around again?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re washing up?”

“Mhm.”

He hesitated...

“You’ve already done enough.”

“And so have you.”

For a second, he looked like he was about to argue, but instead, he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“…Thank you, baby.”

Then, with one last reluctant glance towards the sink, he disappeared upstairs. You smiled to yourself as you rolled your sleeves up and began running the water, rinsing everything off before you loaded it into the dishwasher.

You couldn’t help but notice how domestic it felt, but it felt nice. You could go as far as saying it even felt natural.

By the time you’d wiped the counters down and switched the lights off, the house had fallen completely dark and silent again. So you grabbed your phone from the living room and headed back upstairs. Noah’s bedroom door was already open, the lamp light spilling out into the hallway slightly, and as you came closer, you saw he was lying against the headboard with the TV playing quietly in the background, freshly showered, wearing nothing but a comfy pair of black shorts.

His hair was still damp, the ends flicked up just slightly, and the moment you appeared by the door, he looked up.

“I told you to go to sleep.” You said with a little smile.

“Actually, you told me to go to bed.” He teased.

You shook your head with an amused sigh before climbing into bed beside him.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“Ten.” You said as you checked your phone. “So if you’re gonna be waking up at five again in the morning…”

“I know.” He said with a gentle sigh, reaching over and switching the lamp off.

“So…” You reached over and picked up the remote, lowering the volume until it was barely audible. “…Why did you put a movie on?”

Noah stared at the TV for a moment before answering.

“I know my head won’t switch off straight away, not after all the stress of today.”

You turned onto your side to face him.

“Work?” You asked, though it was obvious.

He nodded.

“The tour, the festivals, budgets, finding someone to cover sound…” He let out a quiet breath. “Every time I think I’ve finished thinking about one thing, something else pops into my head.”

“You don’t have to worry about it all tonight.”

“I know… but my brain doesn’t seem to agree.”

You studied him for a second, how even now, lying in bed, he looked so tense. Like he was expecting another phone call at any moment. Then, a small sleepy grin tugged at your lips, and he looked a little suspicious.

“What?”

“I might know a way to help you relax.” You said quietly, making his eyebrows raise in curiosity, and the tired smile that spread across his face was the first truly carefree expression you’d seen from him all evening.

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded your head.

“That’s only if you’d let me.” You said slowly, sliding your hand gently down his abs, your fingertips brushing his skin until you reached the waistband of his shorts.

You looked up at him with soft sleepy eyes in the low light of the bedroom, asking for permission, and he nodded his head.

So you palmed him over his shorts as you slowly kissed your way down his chest, then his stomach, before gently tugging his shorts down just enough to free his cock. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but you knew just what to do.

You softly wrapped your hand around him and pressed a gentle kiss to the head of his cock, making him let out a quiet breath, his hand resting gently on the back of your head as you settled between his thighs.

“Baby… you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” you whispered, licking a slow stripe up the underside of his shaft, “I know. Just let me take care of you.”

You took him into your mouth, warmth and wetness enveloping him as you sucked gently, and the sounds he made sent heat straight between your thighs. You weren’t in a rush, your movements were sleepy and lazy and ever so intimate. You hummed around him, and the vibration made him twitch in your mouth.

You could tell this was just what he needed, so you kept the pace slow, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His breathing grew heavier, but the tension in his body was slowly melting away.

“That’s it baby,” he whispered as he tenderly stroked your hair, “Just like that. You’re making me feel so fucking good.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him almost made you feel dizzy. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes half closed in pleasure and relief, and you felt a sense of pride knowing this was helping.

After a moment, he finally spoke again.

“I want you to feel good too, princess.” He said, his voice deep and raspy with sleepiness, “Come here.”

You pulled off his cock with a soft wet pop and looked up at him. He took your hand and gently guided you up his body until you were straddling his hips, his cock resting hard and heavy between your bodies.

“Touch yourself for me,” he said softly as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your wet bottom lip, “Get that pretty pussy nice and wet, baby.”

You nodded your head sleepily, then shuffled back a little so you could take him back into your mouth. At the same time, you slipped your hand between your thighs and started gently rubbing your clit in lazy circles. Noah groaned quietly when he saw what you were doing.

“That’s it… good girl,” he praised, his hand gently stroking your hair again, “Just like that, nice and slow.”

There was no rush, no urgency, just the soft wet sounds of your mouth working his cock and the quiet little hums you made as you touched yourself. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and Noah could tell by the way you moaned around him, the vibrations making him twitch in your mouth again.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” he whispered, slightly breathless but his voice warm and patient, “I want you to ride me, nice and slow. Is that okay?”

You nodded your head, giving him one last kiss to his tip after pulling off his cock, then you slipped your panties off and crawled up his body again, kissing up his thighs, his hips, his tummy, his chest... he watched you with heavy, half lidded eyes, his hands gently resting on your waist as you straddled him.

You then reached down, wrapped your fingers around his thick, slick cock, and slowly guided him to your entrance. With a soft breath, you sank down on to him, taking every inch until he was buried completely inside you.

You both let out a long, shared sigh. You reached for the hem of the tshirt (his tshirt) you were wearing and pulled it over your head, letting it fall to the floor with a soft sound. You then leaned forwards, pressing your chest flush against his. Your faces were so close you could feel his warm breath on your lips, then you wrapped your arms gently around his neck and started to move- just slow rolls of your hips, grinding lazily on his cock.

He groaned softly, his arms wrapping around your back, holding you just as close.

“Fuck…” he whispered, his voice rough with pleasure, “You feel so good.”

You squeezed around him on every slow downstroke, your walls fluttering and gripping his cock tightly, wanting him to feel every second of it. The closeness of it all almost felt overwhelming, skin against skin, your breasts pressed to his chest, your faces inches apart so you could kiss him whenever you wanted.

And you did. You kissed him slowly as you continued riding him at that lazy, sleepy pace. Noah’s hands slid down to grip your ass gently, just holding you as you moved on him. His breathing was getting slower and deeper, and just like that, every thought about work had suddenly disappeared.

The only thing on his mind was you, and how good you made him feel.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered against your lips, his voice full of affection. “…Just like this, princess. Keep squeezing me like that.”

You clenched around him again as you rolled your hips in a slow circle. Noah let out a long, relieved groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“I can feel myself relaxing already,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re so so good for me.”

You kept riding him lazily and slow, your bodies pressed so close together that you could feel each other's heartbeat. Noah’s cock throbbed deep inside you with every roll of your hips, and the pleasure was building steadily in your core.

Noah could feel it too, the way your walls kept fluttering and squeezing tighter around him. He slid one hand between your bodies, his thumb easily finding your swollen clit. He started rubbing slow, gentle circles on it, the perfect pressure making your eyes fall shut.

“Getting close?” He whispered against your lips, “Don’t hold back. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

His thumb kept its steady pace while you continued riding him, grinding down deeper with every movement, and it just felt perfect. The combination of every sensation- his thick cock filling you, his lips on your skin, and his thumb rubbing your clit so skillfully- quickly pushed you right to the edge.

Noah kissed you deeply, swallowing your soft little moans as your thighs started to tremble.

“That’s it, baby,” he purred sweetly, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Cum for me. Let me feel how good you feel.”

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, and you whimpered into his mouth, your teeth catching his bottom lip as your walls squeezed his cock. Noah held you tightly against his chest, still rubbing your clit gently, kissing you softly until you started to come down.

You were still catching your breath when Noah caught you off gaurd and gently rolled you both onto your sides. He spooned you from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest, somehow without ever pulling out. One arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand gently stroked your thigh.

He started moving again with slow and sleepy thrusts, sliding deep into you from behind.

His lips pressed against your shoulder and the back of your neck, kissing you tenderly as he fucked you. You pushed back against him, sighing softly at how deep he felt in this position, how he was hitting the most perfect spot. Noah groaned quietly, burying his face in your neck.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he whispered, “I’m not going to last much longer like this.”

"Then don't..." You breathed, "Cum for me... please."

His thrusts became a little deeper, a little more desperate, but still so soft and intimate. He held you tightly, one hand gently cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple as he fucked you from behind, kissing your shoulder and the back of your neck the entire time.

Then, with a shaky, breathy groan, Noah buried himself as deep as he could go and he finally came. You felt as he filled you with warm, thick ropes of cum, his cock twitching inside you while he held you close.

Tonight, he didn’t pull out. Instead, he stayed buried deep, his softening cock warm and snug inside you. He wrapped both arms around you, holding you even tighter, and let out a long, contented sigh.

“That was perfect, baby. Stay like this with me,” he whispered sleepily against your neck, pressing one last soft kiss there. “I want to fall asleep inside you tonight.”

You hummed happily, completely relaxed in his arms with his softening cock nestled warmly inside you as the two of you began to drift off just like that- your warm bodies pressed close, his cum slowly leaking out around him, safe and warm in each other’s arms… with the movie long forgotten, and the TV still playing quietly in the background.

・┈・୨୧・┈・

guys you aren't ready for the next chapter 🫣🫣

“Y/N. That’s five weeks away.” 

“Yeah… I know.” 

“That doesn’t work. You know it doesn’t. Not for you, not for me, not for him.”

“I know.” 

“Can you take time off from work? Come to an earlier date?” 

You stared at the floor.

“I... I don't think so.”

“Think.”

You frowned.

“I could call in sick from work?”

A quiet huff of amusement escaped him.

“Okay. Yeah. If that's genuinely what you have to do, then that's what you have to do.”

You still had the positive test in your hand, absentmindedly tapping it against your knee. You weren't even sure why you hadn't put it down yet. Maybe because the second you did, it would all become real.

“What’s that tapping sound?”

You looked down to your hand, you hadn’t even realised that you were tapping it. 

“Oh.” You let out a small breath. “It’s the test. I’m still holding it.” 

“And you’re using it as a drumstick?” 

“Apparently.” 

“...Correct me if I'm wrong, but does that not have your pee like, all over it?” 

You let out a small, incredulous laugh.

“Oh my god Nick! There's a cap on it.” 

You heard a faint knock on the other side of the line. Someone was knocking on the other side of the supply closet door. A second later you could hear Noah's voice. 

“What the fuck are you doing sitting on the floor in here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Soundcheck is about to start.” 

You could almost hear Nick stiffening through the phone. 

“Sorry man,” he said, sounding effortlessly casual. “Just talking to my mom.” 

“Oh! Tell her hi from me.” 

You didn’t even dare to breathe in case Noah would somehow hear you breathing and realise that Nick's mom breathes differently. 

“Okay mom, I have to go. Noah says hello. I’ll text you after the soundcheck.” 

The text came one and a half hours later. 

Nick R: Okay mooom. I’ve looked at the tour schedule. I think Chicago would be best. 

You: Don’t call me that. You’re literally older than me. 

Nick R: But you are a mom… :) 

Nick R: Or, you will be soon. 

That hit harder than you'd expected. You would be soon. A mom. The word settled somewhere deep inside your chest. You were going to be somebody's mom. And Noah… Noah was going to be somebody's dad. Neither of those things felt real. Your phone buzzed again.

Nick R: Anyway, Chicago? 1,5 weeks away? 

You: Could work, why Chicago? 

Nick R: We have two days off. If you can get here, he’ll actually have time to process everything. 

You: Yeah, okay. I’ll book a flight. 

Nick R: Good. 

Nick R: Scared? 

You: Shitless. 

Nick R: It’ll be fine. Don't chicken out. 

You huffed loudly. Don’t chicken out. Like you actually had a choice. You were absolutely terrified, but you knew that you had to do this. With every passing second you could also feel an instinct settle somewhere inside of you. You wanted this. You wanted a family with Noah. The two of you were of course a little family in your own way already, but a baby? A mini Noah? A little best friend to always take with you? A real piece of Noah with you when he was away on tour? You found yourself hoping that the child would inherit all your favorite things about him; his kind nature, his softness, his dedication. It wouldn't hurt if the child inherited his warm eyes either. 

Just as this realization hit you, a pit in your stomach began to form. You wanted this. But did he want this? You shook your head slightly. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you told him. The ticket to Chicago was booked five minutes later. Only 1,5 weeks. Ten days. You could get through that, right? 

Loving Noah had never required lying before. The lies themselves were not the difficult part. Blaming work or not feeling well was easy enough. Looking Noah in the eyes every time he FaceTimed you was not. 

The first few days weren't too bad.

The nausea was easy enough to blame on a stomach bug, and Noah accepted the excuse without much suspicion. He even reminded you to drink water and get some sleep before blowing you a kiss through the screen.

By day four, he started asking if work had really been that stressful. 

By day seven, he asked if you'd done something to your hair.

"No?"

"You look different."

Your stomach dropped.

He wasn't looking at your hair.

He was looking at you.

“I’m just exhausted, Noah,” you said, trying to look convincing. 

“You keep drifting off.”

He was lying in his bunk on the tour bus. His hair looked a little tousled. Faint purple shadows had started to bloom beneath his eyes. He squinted at you through the screen. 

“Have I done something to upset you? I know I haven't called or texted as much as I should have.” He ran a hand down his face. “It’s just been so busy.” 

Your stomach dropped. You hated the fact that he thought he had done something. Hated that you had made him feel like he wasn’t enough. Because he was, he always was. He had texted you multiple times every day since he left for tour. There had only been one day where he hadn’t been able to call you - and he had apologised profusely. 

”Noah… I’m not mad at you,” you said gently. “There’s nothing you have done.” Except maybe put a baby in you.

He studied you for another few seconds.

"Okay," he said eventually.

But he didn't sound convinced.

That was made very apparent the next day when a bouquet of flowers showed up at your doorstep. The card only consisted of three words. I love you.

You almost picked up your phone to call him right then and there. But Noah deserved more, he deserved to be told face to face. You decided that you needed to put even more effort into your little charade. The fact that he was walking around believing you were mad at him made a lump form in your throat. Noah was in the middle of the biggest tour Bad Omens had ever done, thinking you were upset with him.

You snapped a picture of the flowers and sent it to him. 

You: They’re gorgeous. You shouldn't have. 

Noah: Yes I should’ve. 

Noah: You’re at home? 

You had felt so nauseous that morning that you decided not to go into work that day. You had told your boss that you had a migraine and needed to work from home. 

You: Yeah. I wasn't feeling too good this morning. 

You: Better now though, don’t worry! 

Of course, he FaceTimed you immediately. You quickly brushed through your hair with your fingers and rearranged your face to a happier expression than the one you had been wearing the last couple of days, forcing the smile he'd grown so used to seeing.

The screen lit up with Noah's face. His black hoodie was pulled over his head, hair escaping around his forehead in every direction. He looked tired. The kind of tiredness that settled beneath his eyes after weeks on the road. But he still smiled the second he saw you, and somehow that smile alone made the distance between you feel a little smaller.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

“There she is.” 

And then, “Hold up. Look at this.” 

Noah turned the camera around. He was standing on stage. The arena spanned out in front of him. Rows and rows of empty chairs. The floor looked like it was never-ending. Simply put; it was huge. 

You audibly gasped. 

“Noah! Honey, that's… It’s huge!” 

He flipped the camera back around, a wide grin on his face. 

“I know baby, and it’s sold out.” He shook his head like he couldn't believe it. “Can you believe we get to do this?” 

His words hit you like a punch in the gut. What if your secret meant that he wouldn’t get to do this again? You ignored the sting behind your eyes and quickly arranged your features to a grin big enough to match his when you felt your smile starting to falter. 

“I remember when you played in front of like… two hundred people.”

He threw his head back in laughter. “Do you remember that one show where half the audience decided to just leave halfway through?" 

“How could I forget?” 

“I must admit that was quite the punch to my ego.” 

“Maybe you needed it.” 

“Hey!” he interjected. 

You tilted your head a little bit. “I’m so proud of you.” 

His face softened. “Imagine this place full…” 

“Full of people there to see you guys.” 

He smiled. 

“You seem more like yourself today,” he stated. 

You looked at the flowers on the table in front of you, absentmindedly turning the vase a few centimetres before straightening one of the stems that had slipped out of place. Bright, colourful and completely undeserved. You had never wanted to tell him the truth more than you did in that moment.

“Yeah. I’m feeling a bit better.” 

“Good.” 

“Have you eaten today?” he added. 

“Of course!” 

He didn’t look too convinced. 

“A real meal?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“Liar.” 

“Okay. I’ve had a bag of chips,” you admitted. 

“You’re hopeless.” 

“Have you had any water today?” 

Now it was his turn to look a little guilty. 

“Yes…?” 

“Yes?” 

“I mean, the main component of coffee is water. Right? So like…” 

“Coffee is not water, Noah.” 

“It totally is!” 

“Noah.” 

“Fight me.” 

You sighed. “I wish I could.” 

“You can fight me soon. As soon as we’re back in LA.” 

You smiled, your gaze drifting to the half-packed bag by the bedroom door.

Two days.

“You bet.” 

Suddenly it was the night before your flight. You were finishing your packing. A shirt, your toiletries, phone charger, pregnancy test. You took the test out again, staring at it. Then you put it back, and subsequently took it out again. You put it back and looked at it for a while before finally deciding not to take it with you.

The alarm went off at 4:45 AM. You had already been awake for forty minutes. You stretched and sat up. You couldn’t tell if the nausea you were feeling was from morning sickness or nervousness. 

At 5 AM your phone buzzed. 

Nick R: Hi mom. 

Nick R: Today is the day. Don’t chicken out. 

You: Why in the everloving fuck are texting me at five in the morning?

Nick R: Because it's seven. 

You: Right… Time zones. 

Nick R: Did you sleep? 

You: Of course not. 

Nick R: Figured. Don’t skip breakfast. 

Nick R: I’m serious. 

Two hours later you had called in sick from work and were waiting at the gate for boarding. You’ve always been a bit of a nervous flyer. Not during the whole flight though, but taking off and landing had always freaked you out. Whenever you flew together, Noah would simply hold out his hand before the plane even left the ground, allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you could. He wouldn’t even complain about the little crescent moon shaped marks you’d always leave on the top of his hand. You looked down at your boarding pass, double and triple checking that you were at the right gate. You were. Looking down at your watch you wondered if you had time to go grab a coffee. You decided that you did. Halfway to the nearest Starbucks a thought crossed your mind. Could you even have coffee? A quick google search of pregnancy and caffeine made you decide to just get a small one. 

A young family walked past you. The mother was cooing at her baby as the father pushed the pram. Would that be you in a year? The thought made you smile. 

As you sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair at the gate your mind started to work against you. What if Noah wasn’t at the hotel? What if you’d gotten the hotel wrong? What if the flight got delayed? 

“Flight UA 1542 to Chicago now boarding at gate B27,” rang out through the loudspeakers. 

You stood up, hoisting your bag over your shoulder. Instinctively you put a hand on your non-existent bump, almost wanting to protect what was growing in there as you boarded the plane. 

After making yourself comfortable you went to put your phone on flight mode. You hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing. 

Noah: Good morning baby. 

Noah: I hope work isn’t too crazy today. 

You answered with a quick “Good morning. Lots of meetings today, not gonna be able to answer for a few hours. <3” before turning on flight mode and securing your seatbelt. There was no turning back now. 

As the plane began to taxi, your hand instinctively reached toward the empty seat beside you before you caught yourself. Noah wasn’t there to get you through takeoff. Your hand fell limply into your own lap. As the plane's speed began to build you clenched both of your fists as hard as you could. Only when the plane had reached cruising altitude did you unclench them. The tiny, red crescent moons in your palm actually kind of hurt. You made a mental note to not use your nails next time you flew together with Noah. 

The pilot's voice crackled through the speakers as the plane touched down at O'Hare. You barely noticed the skyline in the distance as the plane slowed down. Chicago could've been the most beautiful city in the world and you wouldn't know. Right now, it was just the city where Noah happened to be.

You made your way towards the exit and swiftly made your way towards the nearest taxi. Sliding into the backseat you gave the driver the address Nick had provided you with. The driver met your gaze through the rearview mirror. 

“Have you ever been to Chicago before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

He smiled. 

"Business or vacation?” 

What were you supposed to say to that? “I’m here to tell my boyfriend that he’s going to be a dad”? You just smiled. 

“Visiting someone.” 

The city drifted past outside the window. Glass skyscrapers, old brick buildings, people carrying coffee, cyclists weaving through traffic. You couldn't have described a single thing you’d seen five minutes later. 

“Chigaco is a good city,” the driver smiled. “I think you’ll like it.” 

“I’m sure I will.” 

You sneaked a peak at the driver's GPS. You were only ten minutes away. Ten minutes away from the hotel, from Noah. A nervous flutter swept through your stomach.

You: I’ll be there in 10. 

He replied instantly. 

Nick R: I’ll meet you outside. 

The thought of Nick's warm embrace calmed you down slightly. After all, he was the only other person in the world that knew. He was the only one that knew how your whole world had turned upside down the last ten days. And Nick was also the thing that had kept you sane. 

You spotted Nick outside the hotel, casually leaning against one of the canopy pillars by the entrance. The closer you got to him, the louder your heartbeat became. By the time you had exited the taxi and he pulled you into a hug, your stomach felt like it had dropped several floors.

Nick pulled you into a hug without saying a word. He held you tightly, one hand resting between your shoulder blades as though trying to hold you together. When he finally stepped back, he didn't let go completely. His hands remained on your shoulders, searching your face for a long moment.

“You look terrified,” he stated. 

“I am terrified.” 

“You’ve got this, mom.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Please stop calling me that.” 

Nick pressed his room key to the little pad next to the elevator buttons, then he pressed the 14th floor. The elevator jangled a little as it started to move, every floor bringing you closer to Noah. Closer to finally telling him. 

He noticed how your grip on your bag tightened and how you took a deep breath. Your nerves were written all over your face, your worry unmistakable. 

“He’s in a good mood today, you know,” he stated. 

You glanced at him. “How do you know?” 

“He stole half my sandwich during lunch.” 

You snorted. “That’s how you gauge his mood?” 

“You know how happy stealing other people's food makes him.” 

You returned your focus to the little display over the doors. Ninth floor. You nodded in acknowledgement. For some reason, Noah always seemed to think other people's food tasted better. Even when you ordered the exact same thing. 

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Nick stepped out. You didn’t. The doors began to slide shut again before Nick reached out and caught them with one hand.

“Hey.”

He reached for you, grabbing your wrist lightly. You looked down at his fingers, on the light grip around your arm. Then you looked up at him. Concern softened his features. Something in the way he looked at you made your feet move before your brain had a chance to object.You stepped out of the elevator.

“I’m scared.” 

“I know.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Come on.” 

Nick kept his grip around your wrist as he pulled you down the hotel corridor. You moved your feet without thinking about it. The further down the corridor you walked, the more light headed you felt. The ringing in your ears got louder and louder with every step. You felt like you could be sick. Or faint. Or maybe both. 

Nick stopped in front of a door. 1418. 

“This is him,” he stated. 

You swayed a bit on the spot. Nick turned to you and pulled you into a hug. One of his hands splayed over your shoulder blades, the other cradled the back of your head. 

“You’ll be fine. It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your hair. 

You closed your eyes and nodded. 

“I’m just next door. If you need me, I’m only ten steps away.” 

He let you go, took a step over and opened the door to his own room. 

And just like that, you were alone. You looked at the door, and you swore you could hear Noah humming in there. You raised your hand to knock, but then lowered it. 

Your mind was pulling you in two different directions. One part of you wanted to sprint down the corridor, throw yourself in the elevator and take the first taxi available back to the airport. The other part of you wanted nothing else than to knock on the door and throw yourself in Noah's embrace, to feel his strong arms around you and to breathe his scent in. 

You leaned forwards, both hands resting on your knees. You remembered that someone once told you to “breathe in a square” to calm your heart rate down. In through your nose, hold it, out through your mouth, hold it and repeat. So you did. A minute passed. Then two. When you felt like your heart was beating in a more normal rate you straightened up, put your hand up and knocked twice. 

For a second, nothing happened. Then came the faint sound of movement from the other side of the door. You watched the handle slowly turn and the door swung open. And there he was. 

Noah stood there in a faded black hoodie and grey sweatpants, one hand still resting on the handle. His hair looked like he'd only just run a hand through it, dark strands falling carelessly across his forehead.

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at you.

His expression shifted so quickly you almost missed it. Confusion. Recognition. Then a smile spread across his face, slow at first before it grew into something so bright it almost made your chest ache.

“...Baby?”

---

Tags:

You closed your eyes, pressing your palms to your forehead. Leaning forward a bit you took a deep breath and focused on breathing for a while. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Your mind was racing and you needed to regain your composure. But those two, faint, pink lines against the granite countertop of the bathroom sink shot to the forefront of your thoughts with ease. You had tried to reason with yourself; you used protection, your period had been late before and the test you had peed on an hour before was over two years old. These things expired, right? You had made Noah buy it for you when you missed your period back then. He had been even more nervous than you, but had refused to elaborate until you knew for sure. When you had told him that it was negative he had exhaled and pulled you into him, holding you without saying a word. He had kissed your forehead, your nose, the corner of your mouth. You kept the second test in the packet, pushing it to the back of the medicine cupboard. You had not really talked about the topic since. 

A small gust of wind from the automatic doors of the store pulled you back to reality. You couldn’t just stand here forever. You shook your head slightly and reached for three different ones, more than one couldn't hurt, right? Like, what if one brand was better than the other? What if two tests somehow malfunctioned? Your eyes swept around the store before hastily making your way over to the cashier. She was an older lady, probably just years from retirement. With your brain in a state of chaos, the only thing you noticed about her appearance was her kind, green eyes. She smiled at you as she handed over the reciept. 

“Have a nice day, dear.” 

You nodded automatically. You couldn't remember if you thanked her. 

The drive home was a blur. You stopped at a red light before realising it had turned green. You couldn’t remember the last four streets you had driven down. You couldn't remember if you had actually stopped at the stop sign or if you had slowed down enough through the school zone. At one point you had seriously considered whether you should pull over or not. You didn’t though. You kept driving, gripping the steering wheel so tight your knuckles whitened. 

The small paper bag sat on the passenger seat next to you. It almost felt like it was threatening you. You refused to look at it. 

Back home you placed the bag on the bathroom counter. You looked at it. You exited the bathroom, just standing in the corridor outside. Walking back into the bathroom, you looked at the bag again. 

You huffed. “You’re being unreasonable,” you told your reflection in the mirror, “It’s just a test.” Technically, it was three. 

Three tests that could change everything. What if you just… didn’t take them? Then nothing changes. You’d not be pregnant, Noah would still be on tour and blissfully unaware of the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. 

Your phone buzzed. Of course he had chosen this very moment to text you. 

Noah: I miss you. Big arena tonight. 

Your stomach twisted. You couldn't bear to answer him with more than two red hearts. You decided that you should take a moment to collect yourself before taking a single test. Why had you bought three of them? One would surely suffice, right? But at the same time, more than one couldn’t hurt. 

As it transpired half an hour later, it definitely couldn't. There were now four positive tests on the countertop in front of you. Three pairs of pink lines stared back at you, and of course the most definite of them all; the digital test. You had read the words over and over again without really understanding them. Pregnant. 3+. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled as you sank down on the closed lid of the toilet, test in your hand. You were pregnant. Three or more weeks pregnant. You looked around you, as if wanting him there would make Noah appear from thin air. 

You closed your eyes, resting your head in your hands. A choked sob broke from you. You needed him. You needed him to tell you it was going to be okay. You needed Noah to tell you that whatever you wanted to do, you’d figure it out together. But Noah wasn’t there. He was on the other side of the country, probably doing a sound check. He had no idea that your world had just shifted. 

Pulling your phone out from your pocket you looked at today's date. It was five whole weeks until you were supposed to see him in real life again. You couldn’t wait that long. You couldn’t keep this secret from him for that long. And nevertheless he would sense that something was wrong the second you called. That was one of your favourite things about your boyfriend - Noah could always read you, he could always tell when something was bothering you. You sometimes joked about him being a human mood ring. Noah also always knew what you needed. He gave advice when you needed it, comforted you when you needed it and made you laugh even when you felt like the world was crashing in over you if that was what you needed. 

You looked back at the tests on the granite countertops again. There were no words for the feeling you were feeling. Confused? Scared out of your mind? Absolutely. But those feelings were also accompanied by a warmer feeling. A fleeting image of a small hand wrapping around one of Noah's long, tattooed fingers popped into your head. He’d be a good dad, you were sure of it. But still… A baby. 

A baby. 

The word settled somewhere deep in your chest, equal parts terrifying and impossible. But also wonderful. 

You had always imagined children somewhere down the line. And you had always known that if you were ever going to have them; Noah was the only one imaginable to father them. But that was supposed to be in the future. After the tours became less frequent and shorter. After the constant flights, after the never ending facetime calls late at night. After your shared life revolved around departures and countdowns until you were reunited. 

Not now. 

There was also the fact that you and Noah had never really talked about it, not properly at least. There had been passing comments whenever you had seen a particularly cute family at the grocery store, or when he had spotted a toddler with oversized ear protection dancing at one of his shows. But there had never been a real conversation. No “do you want children?”, no “when?”.

What if he didn’t want them? What if his answer was “maybe in the future, but not now”? What then? What if he thought it would ruin the band? 

Because if there was one thing you knew for sure it was that Bad Omens wasn’t a job to Noah. It was everything. Every sacrifice he had to make for the band to take off, every sleepless night, every year he had spent chasing something that had finally become real. Sold out arenas, tours booked several months in advance, headlining festivals, thousands of people screaming his lyrics back at him every night. 

And now… This. You. 

Somewhere deep inside you knew that this wasn’t where your mind should be running off to - you should be thinking about the tiny life that was growing inside of you. A mix of you and him. 

But all you could think about were tour schedules, headline shows, flights. Cancelled tours. Cancelled shows. Noah’s passion, his drive, his work ethic. All he had done to be in the position to where you were in now, a nice house and stability the two of you could only have dreamt about when you met seven years ago. The thought made you feel sick. 

Without realising it you had opened your phone, went to your "favourite contacts” list and pressed his number. Pressing your phone to your ear, you hid your face in your hand as if to hide even over a regular phone call. 

He picked up after the first dial tone. 

“Hello my darling!” 

“Where are you?” 

“Backstage, why?” 

“Alone?” 

“No, not at the moment. I’m with Foli-” 

“Can you be?” 

“...Yeah. Why?” 

“Please.” 

“Okay. Sure. Give me a sec.” 

You could hear a chair scraping the floor as he stood up followed by the soft sounds of his footsteps. And then you could hear a door close. 

“Okay. I’m literally standing in a supply closet next to two mops.” You heard something rattle on the other end of the line. “I’m pretty sure I just knocked over a bucket. Now…What’s happened? You’re kind of freaking me out.” 

You pressed your hand to your mouth, but a broken sob still escaped you. 

“Y/N, darling, talk to me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What are you apologising for? Why are you crying?” 

There was a pause.

“Did someone get hurt? Did something break?” 

“No.” 

“Are you hurt?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“...You don’t know?”

There was another pause in which you sniffled loudly. You realised you had been twisting your shirt around your fingers so much that it hurt.

“No.” 

“Tell me what’s going on, please. Talk to me.” 

“I took a pregnancy test. Or… more than one. Four.” 

“...And?” 

"They're all… positive. Like all of them.” 

Another pause. 

“Okay…Wow.” 

“Okay?!” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s all you’ve got?” 

“I’m trying to think before I speak.” 

“Promise you won’t tell him.” 

Silence. 

“You haven’t told him?” 

“I haven’t told anyone.” 

“Wow… okay. I - I don’t know what…” 

“Nicholas. Promise me.” 

“I promise.” His voice had become softer. That soft spoken, kind voice that you had relied on so many times before. You knew that you could trust him. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. 

“Nick I… I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what to do.” 

You could hear rustling on his side of the phone. 

“Nick?” 

“I’m here. I just sat down on the floor.” 

And for a second, you could feel a small smile creep onto your lips. The thought of your friend sitting on the floor in a supply closet whilst being the only other person that knew suddenly felt surreal. 

“We never talked about it. About… this. What if he doesn’t want them? What if I’ve just ruined everything?” You traced the sides of the test with your thumb. “And what about the band? I -” 

He cut you off. “What about the band?” 

“What if this is the end of it?” 

“Are you happy?” 

“What?” 

“Are. You. Happy?” 

You didn’t know what to say. You lifted your gaze to try to focus on anything at all. It landed on the toothbrush cup. Yours looked so alone. In your mind's eye you could see it alongside Noah’s and a teeny, tiny one. 

“I think I am, yeah.” Saying it out loud felt like it cemented something in you, and it absolutely terrified you. “But the band is -” 

“Can I tell you what I think?” 

You couldn’t find the words, so Nick took your silence as permission to continue.

“I think you’re trying to solve six months worth of problems in six minutes.” There was another rustling on the other side of the line. “Right now there are only two things that we know are true. You’re pregnant. And Noah doesn’t know.” 

“Right…” 

“Everything else you’re fixated on now is just your brain trying to outrun the future.” 

“But I-” 

“No.” 

“But the timing-” 

“It’s very normal to have children in your late twenties to early thirties you know. Especially when you’ve been together for as long as you have.” 

You sigh. 

“Yeah… In the normal world maybe. But in the band world it feels so early. Like a teenage pregnancy.” 

“Stop.” 

“It does though Nick!” 

“A lot of band dudes have kids, you know.” 

No good answer came to mind. He was right, of course. But it just felt different when the band dude in question was your boyfriend. 

“And if I can say something else…” It wasn't a question. “If Noah had to choose between a sold out arena and you; he’d hate that you think there even is a choice to make. I’ve watched that man cancel interviews because you had a bad day. I’ve watched him leave tour parties early because he wanted to call you. I’ve watched him stare at his phone waiting for you to wake up. Trust me; you’re not competing with the band.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You hated that he was making sense.

“So… as far as I’m concerned there's only one thing left for us to do...” 

“...I need to talk to Noah.” You finished the sentence for him. 

“Yeah. As soon as possible.” There was a sudden hard clunk. 

“What was that?” 

“I might’ve knocked another bucket over.” 

Despite yourself, you couldn't help letting out a laugh between your sniffles. For the first time since taking the first test, you felt that things might work themselves out. 

“There she is,” Nick said quietly. 

“What?” 

“I’ve been waiting to hear that.” 

“Stop.” 

“Well… I’ll tell you something… I definitely wasn’t expecting that today.” 

“Neither did I, to be fair.” 

He laughed. “I’m gonna be honest with you… I think I just cried a little. I cried a little sitting next to two mops.” 

Maybe, just maybe… Everything wasn’t falling apart after all.

---

Masterlist:

Noah Sebastian

Nicholas Ruffilo

Nick Folio

Joakim Karlsson

Others:

my two cents on writing fanfiction

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