AN: Hello! A little request, and yes anon it was very cute! I hope I've done your idea justice! <3 Join my taglist here.
Warnings: Established relationship, swearing, fluffy!
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x F! reader.
Words: 3.2k
Noah just couldn’t help himself. It just slips out. It always just… slips out. Your name. Or the two words that always make his chest tighten with pride; my girlfriend. Because Noah was proud. Incredibly proud to be yours. And that you were his.
So who could blame him, really? Your name just… keeps slipping off his tongue as he reads something in the chat. Or when he’s telling a story. When he’s showing a picture. When he’s doing a giveaway, he can’t help but to mention that this particular merch design is your favourite.
Some days, he actually tried not to mention you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’d realised that he had mentioned you over ten times his last stream.
Some days, that’s totally impossible. Like when he knows you’re watching.
In the middle of another round of the game he’s playing, his phone buzzes on the desk in front of him. Once. Twice. He glances down on the screen, sees the little red heart emoji in the contact name. You.
He smiled to himself, pausing the game, and grabbed his phone. Two texts from you. A photo of the TV in your small living room. His stream fills the screen. A teasing remark about him jumping earlier. He grinned, smile spreading from ear to ear.
From the comfort of your two-seater, you watch as he looks into the camera, smiling in a way that’s reserved just for you. It makes your heart beat a little faster.
“Hey,” he says, raising a finger towards the camera. “No teasing.”
You know it’s for you. And seemingly, so does the chat. Noah can’t help but laugh as his community puts the pieces together. Him pausing the game. Looking at his phone. His grin. The comment.
“Yeah,” Noah laughs. “She’s watching… Say hi everyone.”
And you can’t help but laugh too when the chat is quickly filled with greetings. You also catch someone commenting that it took Noah less than half an hour to mention you this time. You send him another text, smiling from ear to ear. On your screen, Noah glances down at his phone again.
“She says hi, guys,” he smiles before resuming the game.
_____
The chat was moving faster than Noah could read, comment flying past as he struggled to clear what seems to be an impossible level.
“What do I do?!” he groans, trying to see if anyone’s got a tip for him.
Then one comment caught his attention.
— Okay but that hoodie is sick.
Noah glanced down at himself, not really sure what hoodie he had thrown on that morning. He smiled when he recognised it.
“Yeah?” he grinned, tugging lightly at the sleeve of the black hoodie. “Thanks.”
His eyes flickered back to the screen.
“Where I got it?” he read aloud. “Not sure. My girlfriend bought it for me,” he said casually, already turning his attention back at the game and the stupid level he was currently stuck on.
It took the chat about three seconds.
— GIRLFRIEND?!
— THIS MAN IS TAKEN?!
— NOAH WHAT
— guys, have you been living under a rock?!
— EXCUSE ME
— relax ppl please! her name is y/n and we love her here!!!
Noah laughed, shaking his head, looking genuinely confused for a second. How could anyone that regularly tunes in to his streams not know about you? He knows he talks about you all the time. A little too much at times.
Another wave of messages drifted by. Noah just smiled, gaze dropping briefly to the sleeve of the hoodie you had picked out for him.
“She’s got good taste,” he stated simply.
_____
The chat wasn’t sure what to expect when they clicked on the stream that night. He was sitting in his usual chair, cup of tea in his hands, staring at the screen.
“So,” he said, dragging the word out. "Apparently, tonight I’m starting Animal Crossing.”
— LMAO WHAT
— ANIMAL CROSSING?!
— the tea too he’s in his soft era fr
— NOT NOAH PLAYING ANIMAL CROSSING
“I don’t even know,” Noah laughed, leaning back in his chair. “My girlfriend can’t stop talking about this game.”
There it was again. There you were again. The chat, of course, caught it immediately.
— GIRLFRIEND
— OH MY GOD HE DID IT AGAIN
Noah shook his head, laughing under his breath.
“Okay! Okay— that’s not…” he paused, watching the chat fill with messages. “You guys know I have a girlfriend by now. You don’t have to freak out every time I mention her.”
That only seemed to spur the chat on. He sighed dramatically.
“Anyway,” he started. “She says it’s relaxing. And apparently I need to build a nice island.”
He looked at the camera again, lips twitching into a smile.
“She sent me, like, a hundred videos,” he began. “Like, ‘look at this house’, ‘look at this garden’, ‘you should get this one’. I don’t even know what half of it is!”
— not her making you do homework
— SIMP!!!
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Basically.”
He started moving his character around in circles, trying to click stuff. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, trying to figure it out. After a few seconds, he glanced at the chat again.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
The chat started making suggestions at the same time. To add to the confusion, everyone suggested different things.
“Okay…” he said. “Maybe I should just call her?”
The chat exploded once again. He grinned as he pulled his phone out from his pocket.
“She’s gonna make fun of me.”
Judging by the smile on his face however, he clearly didn’t mind one bit.
_____
“We’re back from Yosemite,” Noah said with a grin.
The trip had been planned for a while. A mix of work and pleasure. A group of friends who, in one way or another, also happened to be coworkers, heading out to the mountains to hike, party, and, of course, work on the next record.
You had been hesitant about going. None of the other guys’ girlfriends had been able to make it, and you didn’t want to feel like you were intruding.
Noah had convinced you.
And now, a little while later, he was sitting in front of his stream, going through everything they had done.
“Yeah, it was really good. We actually got quite a bit done.”
The chat, knowing Noah by now, wasn’t entirely convinced that work had been the main priority.
— THATS IT?
— you defo did more than working
— what did you actually do noah?
“No. We saw bears!” Noah laughed.
He leaned forward, suddenly remembering something.
“Wait. I’ve uploaded all the pictures to my computer…”
He shared his screen with the chat, pulling up a slightly blurry picture of a bear, spending quite some time explaining what part of the fuzzy blur was the head.
“Okay, you wanna see more?” he asked after looking at the chat. “Alright.”
Pictures of mountain views, the plastic skeleton that had somehow made the trip with them dressed in a beanie and a jean jacket, pictures of wild animals and his friends followed. Noah made a little comment or told a story about every one as he went.
Then came the picture of the entire group, sitting on the roof of the minivan they’d rented.
And there you were.
Sitting beside Noah, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, your head resting against him.
The picture had been taken from a distance, making it a little difficult to see anyone properly. However, the chat collectively lost its mind.
— OH MY FUCKING GOD
— THAT'S HER!!!!
— NOOO CAUSE THATS HEEERRRRRR
— thank god she’s real
— MYSTERY GIRLFRIEND IN THE FLESH
— she looks so pretty noah <3
Noah actually blushed a little.
“Yeah…” he said with a small grin. There she is.”
His smile grew as he read a few comments out loud.
“She looks so pretty… Ugh, I know! The prettiest.”
There was a moment in which he didn’t say anything, seemingly thinking about something. And then, he made up his mind.
“You gotta see this one, hold on.”
The next picture showed you, standing alone near the edge of a cliff. Arms stretched out to either side, head thrown back. Eyes closed, a huge smile on your face. You looked completely free.
Noah just looked at the picture for a while, a soft smile playing across his face. It was his absolute favourite from the whole trip.
The next photo showed the two of you standing together on a rocky overlook, Noah's arms around your waist. You were smiling straight at the camera, your hands resting lightly over his. Noah wasn’t looking at the camera. His smile was wide, teeth showing, absolutely beaming — looking at you.
”Jolly took this one!”
And that was all it took for the chat to lose whatever little was left of its collective mind.
_____
There was a sudden, almost metallic clink.
“What the fuck?” Noah said, turning to face the corner of his room at the same time as Nick.
“What was—”
“Oh my god!”
“Hold on, we’ve got a fire!” Nick said, standing up.
“What the fuck..?” Noah laughed incredulously. “My candle just exploded, dude!”
Nick was already on the bed, blowing out the small flame that was spreading to the shelf.
“What the hell is even th— Oh shit! It’s on fire!”
Noah jumped up on the bed after Nick, trying to move the blackened the remains of said candle.
“Ah fuck! It's hot!”
“Yeah, it was on fire dude!”
“My whole desk was— my whole shelf was on fire dude!”
Noah stood on his bed, looking from the little white corner shelf to his bedding, noticing how every surface was now covered in wax.
“Burning shit down in here?” came a voice from the doorway.
“Jolly! Look at this shit!”
The chat was flying.
— WHAT THE FUCK
— OH MY GOD
— NOAH!!!!
— NICK LMAO
— EVERYTHING OK?
— NOT THE SOUTHERN ACCENT SLIPPING OUT HAHAHAH
One after one, his roommates entered the room to assess the damage, making jokes about how Noah’s room now smelled like fire. As Orie and Jesse walked in, Noah managed to pull the clip up and show them.
— HOW IS EVERYONE SO CALM
— like hello??? there was a fire in YOUR HOUSE
Noah leaned back in his chair, finally getting a good look at the damage. The candle was beyond saving, but it really hadn’t been that bad. The flame had been small, and Nick had gotten to it almost immediately. The shelf looked a little scorched and there was a faint smell of smoke that lingered in the room.
“You should call—” Nick said.
“Yeah,” Noah agreed, reaching for his phone on the desk. “I should.”
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Noah was calling, you assumed it was to tell you when to come over for tacos, knowing he was streaming with Nick.
“Hi!”
“Hi, baby…”
You caught the tone of his voice straight away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!”
“Noah.”
He sighed.
“Okay. So… Nick is here, right?”
“Right.”
“And we were streaming…”
“Okay?”
“And you know that little shelf over the bed? My candle just… exploded!”
“Your candle exploded?” you laughed.
“Yeah!”
“Is anything on fire?”
There was a small pause.
“Not anymore…?”
“Noah! What do you mean ‘not anymore’?!”
_____
Sometimes, it was just easier for you to concentrate at Noah’s place rather than at home. It was something about the bigger space and the fact that you could sit outside in the garden that sometimes had you coming over to work rather than hang out. It felt nice, getting out of your shoe box of an apartment and enjoying the spring air in his garden. Laptop perched on your lap.
Noah was inside. Possibly working too, maybe playing a game, you weren’t too sure. You were however sure about two things; he hadn’t come downstairs, and since you were hungry — he probably was too.
The stream had been going for a little over two hours when Noah leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. He’d been playing for long enough that even he was starting to lose track of time.
The chat was still moving steadily when the door to the left of him opened.
Noah glanced over his shoulder. You stepped into the room, holding a plate in one hand.
“Hey, baby.”
Noah’s entire expression softened.
“Hey.”
You walked over to him, setting the plate down on the desk beside his keyboard.
“You haven’t eaten.”
He looked at the sandwich, then back at you.
”I was gonna.”
”Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a step towards him.
The chat had heard you before they’d ever seen you live.
Your voice had occasionally drifted into the background of Noah’s streams. A laugh from somewhere in the house. A muffled question. The sound of you calling his name from another room.
They knew you were there.
They just hadn’t actually seen you, apart from the three pictures Noah had shared from the Yosemite trip.
Until now.
You leaned down a little further and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Noah kissed you back just as naturally. His hand came up almost immediately, cupping your cheek for the briefest moment before falling back to the desk.
And then you looked at the camera. You froze. Your eyes widened slightly.
Noah followed your gaze. His smile grew.
“Oh.”
The chat was gone. Absolutely, completely gone.
— OH MY GOD
— THAT’S HER
— HIIIII Y/N!
— WE FINALLY SEE HER LIVE
— SHE KISSED HIM?!
— oh my goddd she made him lunch!!!!
— NOAH’S HAND ON HER FACE????
You looked at Noah, cheeks already turning pink.
“You’re streaming?”
Noah laughed.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you’d come in.”
You glanced at the camera again, clearly unsure what to do now. The chat was moving too quickly for either of you to read properly. Finally, you gave the camera a small, embarrassed wave.
“Hi.”
Noah laughed under his breath.
“Say hi, everyone.”
You shook your head, smiling.
“Okay. I’m going back to work.”
“Okay, baby.”
You gave him one last smile before leaving the room. Noah watched you disappear through the doorway, still grinning.
Then he turned back to the camera.
“She takes such good care of me y’all.”
The chat somehow got even louder.
——-
Davis took another bite, chewing thoughtfully before pointing at Noah’s sandwich.
“It’s the dressing.”
Noah looked up.
“What?”
“The dressing. That’s what made yours better.”
Noah immediately nodded.
“Exactly.”
Darius groaned, looking right into the camera.
“Here we fucking go.”
“No, seriously,” Noah continued, already getting into it. “Dressing is everything. Like, people underestimate it so much.”
Davis laughed.
“It’s a BLT.”
“Exactly! And that’s why you need something to bring it together.”
Noah pointed to the bottle of dressing on the kitchen island.
“It’s the same thing with Caesar salad. Caesar salad is, like, the most basic salad ever. It’s lettuce, parmesan, chicken, croutons—”
“And dressing,” Davis added.
“Exactly! The dressing.”
He pointed at Davis like he’d just proven his entire argument.
“And my girlfriend makes the best Caesar salad I’ve ever had.”
Darius raised an eyebrow.
“Of course she does.”
Noah ignored him.
“She makes the dressing herself. From scratch.”
“From scratch?” Davis repeated.
“Yeah! Like, actually from scratch. It’s fucking insane.”
Noah was smiling now, clearly unable to stop himself.
“It’s so good. Like, genuinely. Best Caesar salad ever.”
Davis looked at his sandwich.
“Why have I never had that?”
Noah didn’t even hesitate.
“Dude, come over tomorrow! Both of you. She’s making it.”
Davis looked at Noah for a moment, then over at Darius.
”Who am I to say no to the best Caesar salad ever?” Darius laughed.
The day after, both Darius and Davis had to hand it to Noah. The salad was really good. Davis had hovered over you in the kitchen, watching you make the dressing.
”The secret is making the mayo yourself,” you explained. ”That, and a pinch of lemon zest.”
Darius still insisted the only reason Noah had won was the chipotle ranch, and that his bacon had been way better. Unfortunately for him though, he’d already lost the argument badly enough to have the words Noah’s BLT was better permanently tattooed on him.
In Comic Sans.
The moment he showed you the tattoo on the back of his calf, you lost it.
”There’s no way…” you said, hand covering your mouth as you tried to not scream with laughter.
”Hey! I lost a bet.”
”BUT YOU GOT IT TATTOOED?!”
Noah was leaning on the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, grinning widely.
“I told you it was gonna be worth it.”
“You did NOT tell me this!”
Noah just grinned.
“Looks good, though.”
“Noah!”
“What?”
”You could’ve just as easily lost!”
Noah just kept grinning.
He walked past you, briefly placing both hands on your hips as he passed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your hair.
“I was never gonna lose to this fool.”
You laughed.
“You are so fucking cocky.”
“And yet,” he said, glancing back at Darius, “He has the tattoo to prove it.”
_____
Jordan was halfway through the tattoo when he leaned back, observing it for a bit before wiping it.
“I need more paper towels, dude.”
Noah glanced over to the little table with supplies, and then turned his face the other direction.
“Baby?” he called.
From somewhere in the house came your voice.
“Yes?”
“Could you bring us some more paper towels please?”
“Sure!”
“Thank you.”
A few seconds later, you appeared at the edge of the frame, placing a pile of paper towels beside Jordan. The second Noah’s gaze landed on you, his entire face changed. One second he was sitting there, a small grimace on his face, and in the next — he was grinning.
— DAMN LOOK HOW HE LIT UP
— LMAO HIS FACE
— hes such a simp lol
You looked down at the tattoo under his knee.
“God damn, baby. That looks so sick.”
His grin widened.
“You think?”
“Yeah. I love it!”
“See?” Noah nodded towards Jordan. “She gets it!”
Jordan laughed as you leaned against the wall, your back turned against the camera.
“Wanna get one next?”
“Fuck yeah,” you smiled. “Hook me up!”
“What do you have in mind?” Jordan asked, leaning over Noah's leg to continue the shading process.
You started to explain your idea while Jordan listened and Noah chimed in with his opinion. Before you knew how it had happened, you’d booked a session next week.
Eventually, you pushed yourself upright.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Walking past Noah, you couldn’t resist. You learned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. This time however, you didn't freeze afterwards. You knew he was streaming, but you did it anyway.
You simply smiled at him before walking out of the room.
The chat exploded.
Noah just laughed, his eyes following you as you disappeared into another room.
Summary: The Bad Omens guys and how I think they would be as your boyfriend (including how they'd be with you in the bedroom)
Content Warning: NSFW content, no detailed descriptions just some of my thots
Masterlist Taglist
18+ MDNI
Boyfriend!Noah
I feel so deeply that Noah Sebastian Davis is boyfriend material to the core. He’s such a gentleman with you in public and in front of friends (even trying not to curse), but will slap your ass the second the two of you are out of sight. As confident as he is on stage, he’d get nervous meeting your family and friends thinking they’ll take one look at his longer hair and tattoos and think there's no way he's good enough for YOU, his precious angel. He definitely would spoil you. I’m talking fancy dinners (even if you order in and stay home), trips, expensive gifts because we know Noah has taste. He loves it when you wear his shirts and hoodies, he writes songs about you even if they never see the light of day, and he calls you every single night when he’s away on tour or else he can’t fall asleep. You get to see a side of him that no one else sees, totally unguarded, kinda boyish when he geeks out about his newest anime obsession or collectors item. He rubs your back and sings softly to you when you have a hard time sleeping. He’s just so SOFT and adores you SO MUCH. He will do anything to make you smile, whether it’s making sure you get to watch from side stage when one of your favorite bands is playing the same festival, adding your favorite song to the setlist purely because he knows you love it, picking up little things he sees when he's away on your that make him think of you, letting you pick the restaurant for dinner even though you picked last week.
NSFW
He LOVES TO GO DOWN ON YOU and nothing can convince me otherwise. He’s such a tease and will lowkey recreate positions he had you in the night before when he’s doing his freaky shit during Dethrone!!! Knowing full well you are watching from stage left!!!! Like that one time he was literally thrusting into the floor (with one knee bent, how he does it to fill you deeper!!!!). His favorite position, as basic as it is, is missionary because as much as he loves having you bended and folded up, he loves you deeply and wants you to look into his eyes and kiss him when you cum. Oh and one day he might get a tattoo just for you on his shoulder, right where your teeth sink in when he relentlessly pounds you into the mattress!
Boyfriend!Jolly
Jolly is a complete golden retriever boyfriend despite his tough facade. He’s the first one to get up from the table and drag you to the dancefloor while you guys are at a friend's wedding. He makes you laugh until your sides hurt. Some of the best times you two have are when you’re tangled in bed way past when you should have gone to sleep, laughing like two best friends. He gets flustered when you dress up for him even though you’ve been together for years because he still can’t believe he got so lucky. He LOVES to touch you, whether it's a hand on your thigh while he’s driving or on the small of your back as you two walk through the hectic backstage area of the night’s venue. He teaches you phrases in Swedish (that is if you don’t already speak it) and tells you through a laugh that you did a great job even when your pronunciation made it unintelligible.
NSFW
Jolly loves being a little rough with you. I’m talking about hair pulling, light choking, overstimulation. His favorite position is having you on your knees, back against him practically on his lap with his hand on your throat as he fucks you from behind. Like I said he loves to touch you and that of course goes for your ass and tits!! He loves the way they fill his hands and he absolutely loses himself in exploring your body. He’ll have you breathless, covered in sweat and clinging to him, and tell you “you can give me one more, can’t you baby?” before throwing your legs back and sinking into you again.
Boyfriend!Nicholas Ruffilo
Nick comes off as a little broody and you two definitely have a bit of the grumpy/sunshine dynamic going on. He's got that dry humor and is not super outspoken, so I feel like he's not too affectionate verbally but boy will he show you. He will spend hours of his time off making you an art piece for your favorite show/movie/band whatever because he knows how much it will mean to you. He might complain about going to see that one pop artist you really like in concert but he’ll smile at you while you sing and reluctantly dance with you during the slow song, going out to get you another drink so you don’t miss a single second. You mention wanting something tattooed? You know he’s going to offer to do it for you that night despite your protest that he doesn’t have to spend his whole night doing so. You’re “one of the guys” and are always at Nick’s side when they go out and do fun things or have a scary movie night. He takes care of you so diligently, fixing stuff around the house, making sure everything is set up and you have help and support before he leaves for tour. Not much will crack him out of his shell but he is absolutely head over heels in love with you and everyone can tell.
NSFW
Nick is really passionate when it comes to sex with you. He’s gonna talk you through it every time and tell you just how good you feel. He’s gonna desperately fuck you agaisnt the unlocked front door because your outfit and the way you were laughing before tipping back your beer had him fighting the urge to throw you over his shoulder right that second and carry you upstairs before you even left the party. He’ll tell you how bad he wanted it and that you take him so well, and right when you are incoherent and about to come he reminds you “you know how much I love you, right?”
Boyfriend!Nick Folio
Nick Folio that motorcycle riding, fish catching motherfucker. He most definitely relentlessly serenaded you with pick up line after pick up line after some drinks at a bar or a party and that's how you were worn down to say yes to your first date. He loves to show you new things and teach you about his interests. He’ll bring you to his favorite lake and put the worms on your line every time because you don’t want to touch them but he’s so happy you came along (he definitely takes a picture of you holding your first fish and posts to brag about it). He gives you the good helmet when you go for rides with him, and he makes sure to tighten the strap himself, playfully knocking on the top of it before hopping on. He’ll speed up sometimes because he loves the feel of your arms locking tighter around his waist (and so help you if you let go at any point). He can read you like a book and knows exactly how to cheer you up no matter what’s wrong.
NSFW
I just know this man gets really confident and cocky in the bedroom. Folio’s favorite position is when he’s leaned against the headboard and you’re riding him. He leans back, arms folded behind his head, and watches you proudly as you work yourself up and down on his cock. He’ll grip your hips when he sees your legs start to falter a little and take over with a “I got you baby, just sit here and take it”, thrusting up into you until you’re screaming his name before laying you back on the mattress and driving into you to get himself off. He’s firm but gentle during aftercare, getting you water but not letting you move on until the whole cup is empty, making sure you go to the bathroom and get fully cleaned up before you go to sleep.
Author’s Note: This is my first time writing like this and I feel like I can't express my thoughts well this way LOL but I tried! Pls share your thoughts and let me know if want more like this! Okay bye I'm going to work on Just Pretend XOXO Lila
Noah who drives over to your place in the middle of the night because he had “a feeling”. He makes a quick detour to the gas station to get snacks just in case. Quietly lets himself into your place and tiptoes around until he finds his way to your bedroom to find you wide awake and unable to sleep.
He brought an extra sweatshirt he’s worn for an afternoon so it smells just enough like him but still is clean.
Doesn’t know how he knew to come over tonight out of all nights but he’s here now and he’s ready to do whatever you need. He’ll have an open ear if you feel like something is weighing on you, he’s also more than happy to just hold you close and provide comfort that way. If neither of those help he’s always up for an all nighter with a little documentary marathon.
A few days later, the morning feels different in a quiet, deliberate way.
Kara is already at school by the time you and Noah leave the house. You dropped her off together, standing at the curb while she bounced toward the classroom doors with Bee carefully zipped into the side pocket of her backpack “for emergencies.” She had turned at the last second, curls catching the light, and waved with both hands.
“Biggest pancake when I get home!” she called. “Promise?”
Noah had placed a hand over his heart with mock solemnity. “Biggest pancake, smiley face, extra chocolate chips. You have my word.”
She grinned, satisfied, and disappeared inside. Ready for a day of adventures.
The two of you had stood in the parking lot a moment longer than usual afterward, hands linked, the weight of the day ahead settling between you without needing to be spoken. Then you climbed back into the car and drove toward the clinic.
The doctor’s office is calm and brightly lit, the kind of place that smells faintly of antiseptic and lemon cleaner. A receptionist with a kind smile checks you in. You sit together in the waiting area for only a short while before a nurse calls your name and leads you back to a small exam room. Noah stays close the entire time, his hand finding yours as soon as you settle onto the paper-covered table. His thumb begins brushing slow, steady circles over the back of your hand; an old, grounding habit.
The physician is a woman in her fifties with warm eyes and a practical, unhurried manner. She reviews the bloodwork from earlier in the week on a tablet, nodding to herself before looking up.
“Everything looks good,” she says. “Hormone levels are within normal ranges. Iron is solid. No red flags on the panel we ran.” She glances between the two of you. “I understand you’re considering trying for another pregnancy?”
You nod, feeling Noah’s fingers tighten slightly around yours. “Yes. We wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything we should know first.”
She smiles, kind but thorough. “That’s smart. Let’s go through a few things… Any current medications?” the doctor asks. “Supplements, birth control, anything recent?”
“No birth control,” you answer. “I take a regular multivitamin, and sometimes vitamin D in the winter. That’s it.”
She nods and makes a small note. “Good. Any significant changes in stress, sleep, or weight over the last six months?”
You hesitate only briefly. “Life is… full. We have a six-year-old, and Noah tours, so things can get hectic. But overall, sleep is decent. Stress is the normal kind.”
Noah’s thumb brushes over your knuckles. “We’re pretty intentional about slowing down when we’re home,” he adds quietly.
The doctor smiles at that, then turns her attention to him. “And how about you? Any chronic conditions, medications? Anything we should know on your side?”
Noah shakes his head. “No. General wellness checks have always been fine. No medications. No known issues.”
“Good.” She sets the tablet down on her lap and looks between the two of you with a more conversational expression. “Alright. Since you’re thinking about trying, I’ll give you the practical version of what that usually looks like for couples around your age.”
You both wait, listening.
“Most of the time it’s straightforward,” she continues. “Tracking your cycle helps, whether that’s with an app, basal body temperature, or just being aware of your fertile window. Ovulation predictor kits are useful if you want something more precise. The goal is simply to have timed intercourse in the days leading up to and including ovulation. That’s when the chances are highest.”
She glances at you both again, her tone remaining warm and matter-of-fact.
“It can happen very quickly for some people; within the first cycle or two. For others it takes several months, both are completely normal. The general medical guideline is to try for about six months to a year before we’d look any deeper, especially given that everything we’re seeing today looks healthy. There’s no medical reason, based on your labs and history, that you shouldn’t move forward whenever you feel ready.”
Noah’s hand tightens slightly around yours. You feel the quiet shift in his breathing.
“So we’re cleared?” you ask, just to hear it said plainly.
The doctor nods. “You’re cleared. Physically, you’re in a good place to try. The rest is timing, a little luck, and taking care of yourselves along the way.”
Something in your chest loosens so suddenly it almost startles you. You feel Noah exhale beside you, a quiet, controlled breath that still carries the weight of relief and something deeper; hope, carefully held.
“Thank you,” you say, and mean it more than the simple words can hold.
She smiles again. “Take care of yourselves. And good luck, whenever you decide the time is right.”
You thank her once more, schedule nothing further for now, and walk back out into the late-morning sun with the quiet knowledge settling between you like a held breath finally released.
Everything is okay.
You can try.
The drive home is mostly quiet, but not empty. Noah’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives, warm and steady, his thumb tracing absent patterns against the fabric of your jeans. Every so often he glances over at you at a red light, and the look in his eyes is so full of love, desire, hope, a little bit of disbelief; that it makes your stomach flip in the best way. You turn your hand over on your lap so your fingers can lace with his. He squeezes once, firm and certain.
“You okay?” he asks softly as the familiar streets near home begin to appear.
You nod, watching the houses pass. “Yeah. It just… feels real now. Like we actually get to do this on purpose.”
“We do,” he says, voice low. “Whenever you’re ready. No pressure. No timeline we have to force.”
You glance at him, taking in the profile you know so well, the line of his jaw, the way his hair falls a little into his eyes when he drives. “I know. But I think I am ready. Today. I want to start.”
His hand tightens briefly on yours. He doesn’t say anything else until he pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park. Then he turns fully toward you, eyes searching your face.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Inside, the house is still and sunlit. The quiet without Kara always feels a little larger than it should; no small footsteps, no running commentary about bees or dragons, no demand for snacks. Noah closes the front door behind you, and for a moment the two of you simply stand in the entryway, looking at each other. The air between you feels charged in a way that is familiar. You have an active, loving physical life together, the birth control being condoms… Late nights after long days, lazy weekend mornings, the easy intimacy of people who know each other’s bodies and still reach for one another often. But this is different.
This is intentional.
This is hope threaded through every glance and every breath.
You step closer first.
Noah’s hands come up to frame your face the moment you do, his palms warm against your cheeks. He searches your eyes like he is still making sure, still giving you every chance to slow down or change your mind. You answer by rising onto your toes and kissing him, soft at first, then deeper when his breath catches against your mouth. His hands slide back into your hair, cradling your head as he kisses you like he has been waiting for permission to want this out loud.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips when you part just enough to breathe. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” you answer, the words steady even as your pulse races. “Come upstairs with me.”
He follows without hesitation.
In the bedroom, the light filters softly through the half-drawn curtains, painting everything in gentle gold. Noah closes the door behind you with a quiet click, and then he is there again; hands at your waist, forehead resting against yours, breathing you in like he needs the proximity to steady himself. You slide your hands under the hem of his hoodie, palms flattening against the warm skin of his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tense and then relax under your touch. He makes a low sound in his throat and kisses you again, slower this time, deeper, full of the kind of reverence that makes your knees feel unsteady.
“I’ve wanted this,” he admits quietly against your mouth. “Not just the sex, we have that. I’ve wanted this. Trying with you. Knowing what it means.”
“I know,” you whisper. “Me too.”
Clothes come away gradually, without rush. There is no urgency in the way he undresses you, only care. Fingers tracing the lines of your body like he is memorizing them all over again, like every familiar curve still feels new because of what this moment means. You do the same for him, pushing his hoodie up and off, letting your hands map the familiar terrain of his chest, his shoulders, the ink you have traced a hundred times before. When he lifts you and lays you back against the bed, he follows immediately, bracing his weight on his forearms so he can look down at you properly.
“You’re sure?” he asks one more time, voice rough with restraint and want. His eyes are dark, soft, completely open. “We don’t have to, not if any part of you wants to wait. We can take it slow. We can-”
You reach up and press two fingers gently against his mouth, silencing the offer even as it makes your heart ache with how much you love him for making it.
“I’m sure,” you whisper. “I want this. I want you. I want to try. With you.”
Something in his expression breaks open at that, relief and desire and so much love it is almost overwhelming to look at. He kisses you again, deeper now, and the weight of him settles over you carefully, familiar and new at the same time. When he finally pushes into you, it is slow, deliberate, both of you exhaling at the same moment like the connection itself is something sacred. You wrap your arms around him, your legs around his hips, holding him as close as you can while he begins to move.
It is not frantic. It is not rushed. It is the kind of lovemaking that comes from knowing each other well and choosing each other all over again, deep, measured strokes, shared breath, soft sounds against skin. Noah keeps his forehead pressed to yours for long stretches, eyes open when he can manage it, whispering your name like a prayer between kisses. You answer with your hands in his hair, your mouth against his jaw, your body rising to meet every careful thrust.
“I love you,” you breathe against his skin, the words spilling out again and again because they feel necessary. “I love you. I love the way you love her. I love the way you love me. I want this with you. I want everything with you.”
His rhythm falters for a second at the words, a low, broken sound leaving his throat. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, breath hot against your pulse.
“You’re everything,” he manages, voice thick. “You and her. And this… God, the idea of this, another little one who gets to have me from the very beginning. Who gets to have us. I love you so much it doesn’t even feel like enough words.”
You hold him tighter, tears slipping free at the corners of your eyes even as pleasure builds low and steady between you. The knowledge of what you are doing, what you are trying for, threads through every touch, every kiss, every whispered declaration. It makes the familiar feel heightened. It makes the desire feel deeper, rooted in something that goes far beyond the physical. When you come, it is with his name on your lips and your hands gripping his shoulders, and he follows soon after, burying himself deep with a shuddering breath and a quiet, almost awed sound against your throat.
For a long time afterward you stay tangled together, bodies still joined, his weight carefully braced so he doesn’t crush you. His fingers stroke slowly through your hair. Your hand traces idle patterns along the damp skin of his back. The room is quiet except for the sound of your shared breathing gradually slowing.
Noah eventually shifts just enough to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your temple, then the corner of your mouth.
“I love you,” he says again, softer now, the words settled and sure. “Whatever happens, whether it takes a month or longer, whether we get lucky right away or need time, I love you. And I’m so grateful you trust me enough to try this with me.”
You turn your head to kiss him properly, slow and sweet.
“I trust you,” you answer. “I feel safe with you. And I want this family to grow with you in it from the very beginning this time. No more missed firsts. No more wondering. Just us.”
He smiles against your mouth, small and full of emotion, and pulls you closer still, tucking your head beneath his chin. Outside, the afternoon light continues to shift across the floorboards. In a few hours you will need to pick Kara up from school. There will be the biggest pancake to make, stories to read, and a little girl who has already left space in her toy circle for the possibility of a sibling.
But for now, in the quiet of your bedroom, there is only this: two people who found their way back to each other against distance and fear and time, choosing hope on purpose, holding on tightly while the future begins to take shape between them.
You close your eyes and rest against him, letting the love and the desire and the quiet, steady hope settle into your bones.
Kara is already asleep by the time the house finally settles into its late-evening quiet.
You checked on her twice.
The first time she was still half-awake, curled on her side with Bee tucked under her chin, murmuring something soft and half-formed about bees and pancakes. You had smoothed the blanket higher over her shoulder and she had sighed, already slipping back under. The second time, only twenty minutes later, she was fully gone; mouth slightly open, one arm thrown loosely over Bee, the soft rise and fall of her chest steady and peaceful under the warm glow of her nightlight. You stood in the doorway longer than you needed to, watching her, feeling the familiar ache of love so deep it almost registered as pressure behind your ribs. The kind of love that still catches you off guard sometimes, even after all these years. Then you closed the door softly, careful not to let the latch click too loudly, and went downstairs.
Noah is in the living room.
He is sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped, staring at nothing in particular. The television is off. The only light comes from the lamp in the corner, casting the room in a warm amber that softens the edges of everything; the coffee table still scattered with a few of Kara’s crayons from earlier, the throw blanket half-sliding off the arm of the couch, the faint outline of his own reflection in the dark window. He looks up the moment he hears your footsteps on the stairs, and something in his expression shifts immediately: relief, affection, that quiet, attentive softness he always seems to carry when it is just the two of you and the house has finally gone still.
“She’s out?” he asks, voice low, almost careful.
You nod, settling onto the couch beside him, close enough that your knees brush. The cushion dips under your weight. “Completely. Didn’t even stir when I fixed her blanket the second time.”
He lets out a soft breath and leans back against the cushions, rubbing one hand over his face. The motion is tired, but there is ease in it too. “Good. She needed it. Today was a lot for a little body still bouncing back.”
For a moment neither of you speaks.
The house feels full of the ordinary, precious silence that only exists when a child is safely asleep: the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the faint creak of wood settling somewhere upstairs, the occasional soft brush of wind against the windows. You can still feel the weight of the last few days sitting between you like a third presence: the conversation in the kitchen where you admitted your fear, the way he had looked at you like your hesitation hurt him even as he understood every word of it, the way Kara’s eyes had slowly lit up when the idea of a sibling finally took root in her small, careful heart. The quiet hour you spent upstairs earlier with the old photographs, remembering how hard those first months had been and how fiercely beautiful they still felt when you looked back on them.
You turn slightly toward him, drawing one knee up onto the cushion so you are facing him more fully. Your heart is beating harder than it should for a conversation happening in your own living room, under a lamp you have sat beneath a hundred times before.
“Noah,” you say quietly.
He looks at you right away. Fully. Attentive in that way he always is when he senses something important is coming, the same way he listens when Kara is telling him a long, winding story about bees or dragons or the exact order of her toys. “Yeah?”
You take a breath. It feels thicker than usual, like it has to push past something solid in your chest.
“I’ve been thinking about everything,” you begin, choosing the words carefully, feeling each one settle into place before the next. “About what you said the other night. About wanting another baby. About the things you missed with Kara. About how much it still sits with you, even after all this time.”
His expression shifts at once; hope and caution mixing together in the soft light. He doesn’t interrupt. He just waits, the way he has learned to wait for you when the subject is heavy, giving you the space to find your way through it without rushing.
“I talked to Kara today,” you continue. “While you were in the studio, I asked her what she would think about a little sibling someday.”
Noah’s eyes widen slightly. His posture straightens just a fraction. “You did?”
You nod. “She was scared at first. Really scared. She asked if you would still make her pancakes, If you would still read her stories at night, If the bee song would still be just for her.” Your throat tightens at the memory of her small voice, the way her lower lip had pushed out while she tried so hard to be brave about something that felt too big. “She was worried she would lose her place. That a baby would take something from her, something that belonged only to her.”
His face softens with deep understanding, and a quiet sadness flickers across it, the kind that comes from knowing exactly how much room a child can take up in a heart. “That makes sense,” he murmurs. “She’s been our whole world for so long. It’s all she’s ever known.”
“She has,” you agree. “But then… she started to light up. It was like watching something open inside her. She started talking about teaching them about bees, and showing them the pool, and protecting them from dragons. She left a space open in her circle of toys for them. Just in case.” You smile faintly at the memory, still a little stunned by how quickly her little heart had made room. “She’s already making space. In her own way.”
Noah lets out a quiet, almost disbelieving breath. His hand finds yours on the cushion between you, fingers threading through yours carefully, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment if he holds on too tightly. His palm is warm. Familiar.
You look down at your joined hands for a second, then back up at him. The words that come next feel like stepping off a ledge you have been standing on for days, knowing the ground is there, but still feeling the drop in your stomach.
“I want to try,” you say.
The sentence hangs in the air between you, soft and enormous at the same time.
Noah goes very still. His eyes search your face with an intensity that makes your chest tighten, as if he needs to be completely certain he heard you correctly. “You… want to try?”
You nod, and this time the tears that have been waiting at the edges of your vision finally rise. You don’t fight them. They slip free quietly, warm against your skin. “Yes. I want to try for another baby with you.”
His free hand comes up slowly to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing gently along your cheekbone, catching one of the tears. He looks like he is holding his breath. Like the entire room has narrowed to the space between your faces.
“I’m still scared,” you admit, voice unsteady but clear. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not. Becoming a mom again brings everything back; the exhaustion that settles into your bones, the fear that something could go wrong, the way those early months felt so big and lonely the first time. I remember how hard it was. I remember sitting in the dark with her on my chest, wondering if I was enough. If love alone would be enough. That doesn’t just disappear because time has passed or because things are better now.”
You lean into his touch, covering his hand with yours where it rests against your cheek, holding him there.
“But I also remember how beautiful it was,” you continue, softer now. “Even in the hardest parts. The way her tiny fingers wrapped around mine. The first real smile. The nights that felt endless and somehow still worth every second. And this time… it wouldn’t be the same. Because you’re here. You’re already her dad in every way that matters. You make the pancakes with the smiley faces. You do all the voices in the stories without ever sounding tired of them. You white-knuckle the wheel when the school calls and carry her out of the nurse’s office like she’s the most important thing in the world. You show up. Every single day. Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when it’s hard.”
Your voice breaks a little on the last words. You swallow and keep going, because he needs to hear all of it, and because you need to say it.
“You’re an incredible father, Noah. The best one she could have asked for. The best one I could have asked for. Watching you with her these last two years has been one of the greatest gifts of my life. The way you love her, so openly, so completely. The way you worry. The way you choose us over and over, even when it costs you something. That safety… it’s what makes me feel like I can do this again. Like we can do this again. Not alone. Not scared the way I was the first time. Together.”
His eyes are wet now. He doesn’t look away from you. Not even for a second.
“I love you,” you say, the words coming out clear and certain even through the emotion thickening your throat. “I love the man you are. I love the father you’ve become. I love the way you look at her like she’s your everything, and the way you look at me like I’m still the girl from that hotel room more than six years ago and also the mother of your child and also the person you want to build a whole life with. I want another baby with you. Not just because you want it, although I know how much you do, and I see how much it still lives in you. I want it because I want it too. Because the idea of watching you experience all the firsts this time; the kicks, the ultrasounds, the first cry, makes something in my chest ache in the best way. Because Kara is already leaving space for them in her little world. Because I feel safe with you. Because even with the fear sitting right there beside the want, I want this family to grow.”
You take a shaky breath, steadying yourself.
“So yes. I want to try. If you still want that.”
For a long moment Noah doesn’t speak. He just looks at you like the world has narrowed to this one quiet living room, this one soft lamp, this one answer he has been waiting for without fully allowing himself to hope it would come. Then he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed, breath unsteady against your skin.
“I want that,” he whispers, voice rough and thick. “God, I want that so much.”
His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you closer. You feel the tremor in him; the depth of the emotion he has been carrying quietly for so long, the grief of everything he missed with Kara, the fierce and careful hope of getting to do it differently this time. Of being there from the very first moment.
“You’re sure?” he asks against your skin, still giving you an out even now, even when his own voice is shaking. “Even with the fear?”
“I’m sure,” you answer. “The fear is still there. It’s not gone. But so is everything else. The want. The trust. The love. And tonight… it feels bigger than the fear.”
He makes a soft, broken sound, half laugh, half something closer to a sob, and then he is kissing you. Slow and deep and full of everything neither of you has fully put into words until this moment. You kiss him back, hands fisting lightly in the front of his hoodie, feeling the solid reality of him under your palms, the warmth of him, the way he holds you like you are both the most fragile and the strongest thing he has ever been given. Like he is afraid of holding on too tightly and more afraid of letting go.
When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours again, breathing you in, one hand still buried in your hair.
“I love you,” he says, the words quiet but absolute. “I love you so much it still scares me sometimes. And I love her more than I know how to say. And the idea of another little one who gets to have you as their mom and me as their dad from the very beginning… I don’t have the words for what that means to me. I’ve wanted it for so long I almost didn’t let myself keep wanting it.”
You smile through the tears still slipping down your cheeks, your thumb brushing lightly along his jaw. “Then we don’t need the words tonight. We just need this.”
He nods, then pulls you fully into his arms, shifting on the couch so that you are tucked against his chest. You fit there the way you always have; easily, like the space was made for you long before either of you knew to look for it. His hand moves slowly up and down your back in steady, grounding strokes. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, strong and a little too fast, matching the still-elevated rhythm of your own.
For a long time you simply sit like that, wrapped in each other in the quiet living room, the soft light of the lamp pooling around you both. Upstairs, Kara sleeps on, dreaming whatever bright, chaotic dreams six-year-olds have after a day of recovery and new ideas about becoming a big sister. Down here, the future feels closer than it has in days, still uncertain, still edged with the honest fear of everything that could go wrong or feel too hard, but no longer something you are only standing on the edge of, looking in.
You want this.
You want him.
You want the chance to grow this family together, knowing that this time you will not be alone in the hard parts or the beautiful ones. Knowing that the man holding you has already proven, over and over, that he will stay.
Noah presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, his voice barely above a whisper when he speaks again.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says. “No rushing. No pressure. Just… us. Trying. Together.”
You close your eyes and let the words settle into the quiet space between your ribs, right beside the fear and the hope and the deep, steady love that has carried you both this far; from a single night almost seven years ago, through silence and distance and fear, all the way to this couch, this night, this decision.
“Us,” you agree softly.
And for the first time, the idea of another baby doesn’t feel like something you are only considering.
