#I'M GOING TO WALK INTO UPCOMING TRAFFIC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musicforastylesrestaurant · 8 months

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Saccharine Expressions.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - enjoy 8k words of Harry grieving his wife.

trigger warnings - mentions of car crashes, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage and a shit load of angst. if you notice anymore triggers please let me know asap!

word count - 8k

in which, your husband postpones his american leg of tour because you get involved in a road traffic accident, resulting in you ending up in a medically induced coma, your husband and four year old comes to visit you everyday and they always have something new to tell you. this is everything that Harry experiences whilst you asleep, speaking to you whilst holding your hand, getting forced to eat because he doesn’t want to move and reassuring your son that mummy’s going to be fine.

12th August, 2022. — 14:47pm.

You had been looking forward to this moment all day. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow as you sat behind the wheel, cruising along the familiar roads on your way to pick up your four year old son, Alfie from school. The car hummed softly, the radio playing a cheerful tune in the background. The anticipation of reuniting with your little one filled the air, your heart light with the prospect of his laughter and stories from his day.

As you turned onto the street leading to the school, you imagined his face lighting up when he spotted your car. He would come running, his backpack bouncing against his small frame, his smile infectious. You couldn't wait to envelop him in a tight hug, his energy and innocence providing a welcome escape from the adult world.

The plan was to head to your husband's music studio, where he was getting everything ready for his American Leg of tour. It had been a while since the three of you had spent quality time together there, surrounded by the melodies that had woven into the fabric of your life. You had ordered takeout from his favourite restaurant, a little treat to celebrate a simple yet special evening.

The studio was your sanctuary, a place where your husband's creativity flowed freely. The walls were adorned with framed memories and records, a testament to his journey as a musician. Walking in, you'd inhale the familiar scent of music equipment and the subtle mix of coffee and old books. You'd settle into the cosy corner, watching as your son explored the room with wide-eyed wonder.

You'd listen to your husband's stories, sharing in his triumphs and frustrations. The music playing softly in the background would create a serene backdrop to your conversations, each note a reminder of the bond you shared. You'd laugh, you'd dance, and you'd cherish the time spent as a family.

But as the sun began its descent and the car continued down the road, fate had other plans.

Out of nowhere, a truck materialised in your path, its imposing presence casting a shadow over your joy-filled thoughts. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing as you attempted to react, but time seemed to slow.

The impact was sudden and brutal, metal colliding with metal in a deafening symphony of destruction. Your world spun, and for a fraction of a second, everything went black.

Harry sat in the dimly lit studio, his fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he worked on everything that would be needed for the show in upcoming days. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.

But then, a sudden interruption shattered his focus – his phone began to ring insistently, its vibrations causing it to skitter across the table.

Frowning, Harry picked up the phone and saw the school's name on the caller ID. He furrowed his brows, a sense of unease fluttering in his chest. He swiped to answer the call and held the phone to his ear.

" ‘ello?" he said, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Hi, Is this Mr. Styles?" a voice on the other end inquired.

"Yeah, this is ‘im," he replied, his brows knitting tighter.

"I'm calling from LakeRidge school," the receptionist explained. "It seems there was a mix-up, and no one came to pick up Alfie today."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what? No one picked him up?"

"That's correct. We were trying to reach your wife earlier, but it seems no one was answering," the receptionist explained, her voice apologetic.

Harry's mind raced as he glanced at the time on his watch. You and Harry took it in turns to pick up Alfie from school. You did Mondays, Wednesday and Harry did Tuesdays and Thursdays. You both picked him up on Fridays. He ran a hand through his hair, his worry deepening.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll be right there t’pick him up."

"Of course, Mr. Styles. We'll make sure he's safe until you arrive," the receptionist assured him.

"Thank you," Harry replied, his tone earnest. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

12th August, 2022. — 15:12pm.

The tires of Harry's car screeched as he quickly manoeuvred into a parking spot near the school. He barely had time to turn off the engine before he was out of the car, his long strides carrying him toward the school building. Panic surged through him with every step, a mix of worry and guilt propelling him forward.

As he burst through the doors of the school reception, his eyes frantically scanned the room for a familiar face. And there he was – his son, Alfie, standing near the reception desk, his face a mixture of relief and excitement as he spotted his father.

"Daddy!" Alfie's voice rang out, and he sprinted toward Harry with open arms.

Harry's heart swelled with a rush of emotions. He crouched down, his arms outstretched, and Alfie practically leaped into his embrace. Harry held his son tightly, a mixture of relief and remorse flooding his senses.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice filled with regret. "Me and Mummy should have been here t’pick y’up on time."

Alfie squeezed Harry even tighter, his small arms wrapping around his father's neck. "It's okay, Daddy. I knew you'd come."

Harry pulled back slightly, looking into his son's eyes. "Still, I should have been here f’you. I promise this won't happen again."

Alfie's face lit up with a bright smile, his forgiveness and trust shining through. "I love you, Daddy."

Harry's heart ached with love as he pressed a kiss to Alfie's forehead. "I love you too, more than anything."

After a moment of holding his son close, Harry straightened up and swung Alfie onto his hip. He gathered his son's backpack with his free hand and draped it over his shoulder.

"Ready t’go, bud?" Harry asked, his voice gentle.

Alfie nodded enthusiastically, his arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "Yeah!"

With Alfie securely perched on his hip, Harry made his way back to the car. He settled Alfie into his car seat, making sure he was buckled in safely. As he closed the car door, he leaned in to meet Alfie's gaze.

"M’really sorry about today, Alf," Harry said sincerely. "From now on, Me and Mummy will make sure were here on time t’pick y’up, n’matter what."

Alfie's smile returned, his eyes filled with trust. "I know you will, Daddy."

Harry smiled back, his heart full as he ruffled Alfie's hair affectionately. With one final glance, he closed the car door and walked around to the driver's seat.

Just as Harry's hand touched the ignition to start the car, his phone lit up with an unknown number. A sense of unease washed over him, but he quickly connected the call to the car's Bluetooth system.

" ‘Ello?" Harry said, his voice projected through the car's speakers.

"Is this Mr. Styles speaking?" a calm voice inquired.

Harry's brows furrowed as he gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Yes, this is ‘im."

"Mr. Styles, I'm Dr. Parker from Willow Creek Hospital," the voice introduced itself. "I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for (Y/N) Styles."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his wife’s name, his thoughts racing as he tightened his grip on the phone.

"(Y/N)?" he repeated, his voice shaky.

"I'm afraid there's been an incident," Dr. Parker explained gently. "It would be best if we discussed this in person. Can you please come to Willow Creek Hospital as soon as possible?"

A surge of panic coursed through Harry's veins as he turned to look at the backseat, where his four-year-old was sitting. He reached out and gently grasped his child's small hand, his mind racing with worry.

" ‘hat happened?" Harry asked, his voice quivering.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Styles," the doctor replied, his tone compassionate. "I assure you, we will explain everything once you're here. Please, make your way to the hospital as soon as you can."

Harry swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

"Yeah, ‘kay," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

12th August, 2022. — 16:09pm.

The hospital loomed before Harry like an imposing fortress of uncertainty. He had hurriedly dropped off Alfie at his manager Jeff's house, making sure his son was safe and away from the unsettling environment of a hospital. Now, his heart raced as he rushed through the sliding glass doors, the sterile scent hitting him like a wave as he stepped into the hospital's bustling foyer.

His eyes darted around, scanning the signs that pointed the way to different wards and departments. But his mind was a blur, and he found himself striding over to the reception desk, his voice hurried and tense.

"S’cuse me," Harry began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "M’looking f’m’wife, (Y/N) Styles. Can y’tell me where she is?"

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer screen and offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, sir. Let me check for you."

Harry's fingers tapped nervously on the counter as he waited, his gaze flitting around the lobby. The distant hum of footsteps, the occasional murmur of conversations – it all blended into a surreal symphony that only heightened his unease.

After a moment, the receptionist turned back to him. "It says on her notes that her doctor wants to speak to you before you l are updated on your wife, I’ll page her doctor and let him know your here, be will be out to speak with you shortly about your wife’s condition"

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly in frustration, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "Right. Thank you."

As he paced back and forth near the reception area, his mind raced with scenarios and questions. What had happened? Was (Y/N) okay? The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, a doctor emerged from the corridor beyond.

"Mr. Styles?" the doctor called out, his white coat billowing slightly as he approached.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the doctor. "Yes, that's me."

The doctor extended a hand, his expression a mix of professionalism and empathy. "I'm Dr. Parker. Please, come with me. We have a private room where we can talk."

Dr. Parker led Harry down a series of hallways until they reached a small, private family room. The air inside felt heavy with anticipation, and as Harry stepped through the door, he could hardly ignore the sense of foreboding that settled over him.

Taking a seat, Harry's hands trembled slightly as he looked at the doctor, his eyes wide and expectant.

"I appreciate your patience, Mr. Styles," Dr. Parker began, his tone gentle. "I know this is a difficult time, and I want to provide you with as much information as I can."

Harry nodded, his heart pounding as he held onto every word the doctor spoke.

"Your wife, (Y/N) Styles, was brought in unconscious after the car accident," the doctor explained. "Upon evaluation and a CT scan, we discovered a small bleed on her brain. It's causing increased pressure, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his fingers clenching into fists as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. His wife, the person he loved more than anything, was facing a critical health challenge.

"Additionally," Dr. Parker continued, "she has sustained multiple injuries. Her ribs are fractured, and she has also broken her femur."

The weight of the doctor's words seemed to press down on Harry's chest, his mind struggling to process the extent of his wife's injuries. Images of her vibrant smile, her laughter, and the moments they had shared together flashed through his mind, a stark contrast to the reality he was now facing.

"What... what’re the next steps?" Harry managed to ask, his voice quivering.

"We've already begun treatment for the brain bleed," Dr. Parker explained. "She's under close observation in the Intensive Care Unit. Our priority is to stabilise her and manage the pressure on her brain. Once that's achieved, we'll assess the best course of action for her other injuries."

Harry nodded, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to be strong, for both his wife and their family, but the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.

"Can I... can I see ‘er?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly. "Of course. We're preparing a room for you to visit her briefly. Please keep in mind that she's still unconscious, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

As the doctor led Harry through the hospital corridors, the journey felt like a surreal blur. He couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart, nor the deep sense of longing to see his wife's face, to hold her hand and offer his unwavering support.

The door to the room swung open, revealing you lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and monitors. Your face appeared peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Harry's heart. He approached the bed, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

"(Y/N)," Harry whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "M’here. I love you."

He held your hand gently, his grip offering both reassurance and a silent promise that he would be by your side throughout this challenging journey. As he looked at you, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and determination, a reminder that your bond was unbreakable, even in the face of adversity.

The soft beep of machines filled the room as Harry stood by your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form. Dr. Parker joined him, his presence a mix of professionalism and empathy.

"Mr. Styles," the doctor began, his tone gentle, "I need to explain that due to the severity of (Y/N)'s injuries, we made the decision to place her in a medically induced coma."

Harry's heart sank at the doctor's words, his eyes widening as he turned to look at Dr. Parker. The gravity of the situation seemed to deepen with each passing moment, and the reality that you was facing a critical condition hit him like a ton of bricks.

"A coma?" Harry repeated, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "Given the head injury and the need to reduce pressure on her brain, we initiated the coma to allow her body to heal and to give her the best chance of recovery."

Harry's hands trembled as he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his heart heavy with worry for his wife.

"I know this is incredibly difficult," Dr. Parker continued, his voice compassionate. "But the induced coma is a crucial part of her treatment plan. It will help minimise any further damage and allow us to closely monitor her brain activity."

Harry nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. He felt a mixture of helplessness and determination, the need to be there for you overwhelming his thoughts.

"M’here f’er," Harry said, his voice firm. "Whatever she needs, I'll be here."

Dr. Parker nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Your presence and support are invaluable, Mr. Styles. We'll continue to keep you updated on her condition and progress."

Dr. Parker remained in the room, his expression a mix of concern and professionalism. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice measured yet compassionate.

"There's one more thing I need to discuss with you, Mr. Styles," the doctor said, his tone somber.

Harry's head shot up, his eyes locking onto Dr. Parker's. A sense of dread gripped him, his heart pounding as he awaited the doctor's words.

The doctor's gaze met Harry's, his eyes conveying a mixture of empathy and gravity. "Were you aware that your wife is pregnant?"

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to process the question. He shook his head slightly. "No, I wasn't."

Dr. Parker nodded, his gaze steady. "According to our initial assessment and subsequent scans, (Y/N) is approximately 13 weeks pregnant."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. The news hit him like a tidal wave, the realisation that not only was you facing a critical condition, but your was also carrying yours and his second child.

"She... she’s pregnant?" Harry managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alfie was going to be a big brother.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "The baby appears to be fine, given our initial scans. However, I need to be transparent with you, Mr. Styles. The circumstances surrounding the accident do pose a higher risk of miscarriage."

Harry's heart ached at the doctor's words, the weight of the situation heavy upon him. The room seemed to close in around him as he processed the reality of the delicate life that hung in the balance.

" ‘hat can we do?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.

Dr. Parker's expression softened. "Right now, the focus is on (Y/N)'s recovery. We'll continue to monitor both her and the baby closely. While the situation is delicate, we'll do everything we can to support their well-being."

Harry nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind of worry and determination. He glanced back at you, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your abdomen, as if trying to protect the life that was growing within her.

"Thank you, Dr. Parker," Harry said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "Please, do whatever y’can t’take care of them."

The doctor offered a reassuring nod. "We're committed to providing the best care possible, Mr. Styles. We'll keep you updated on any developments."

As the doctor left the room, Harry's gaze remained fixed on you, his heart a mixture of hope and fear. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he knew that the love and strength the two of you shared would be his guiding light, illuminating the path toward recovery for both you and their unborn child.

Dr. Parker's steps had barely faded when Harry found himself whispering to the still room, his voice a mixture of desperation and raw emotion.

"Y’can't leave us," Harry murmured, his fingers gently brushing your hand. "We need you. Alfie needs you."

His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy in the air. He looked at your face, so peaceful yet distant, and a lump formed in his throat.

"Alfie can't grow up without a mother," Harry continued, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'll do without you."

Tears welled in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He took a shaky breath, his fingers gripping your ones tighter.

"Y’everything t’us," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. "We can't lose you."

The room was silent, the machines and monitors offering a haunting backdrop to his plea. Harry's heartache felt like an ache in his chest, a reminder of the fragility of life and the depth of his love for you and your unborn child.

DAY ONE. 13th August, 2022. — 07:54am.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across the hospital room, Harry roused from his light slumber. He had spent the night in the chair beside your bed, his presence a steadfast symbol of his unwavering support. The machines continued their soft symphony, their rhythmic beeps and hums creating an almost surreal backdrop to the uncertainty that hung in the air.

A nurse, her footsteps soft and purposeful, entered the room. She moved gracefully, her experience evident in the way she approached your bedside and began checking her vitals. The machines responded with gentle beeps, their cadence familiar to Harry's ears by now. He watched the nurse's actions with a mix of hope and apprehension, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the nurse worked, her gaze shifted to Harry, and she offered a kind smile. "Good morning. Did you stay the whole night?"

Harry nodded, his voice hoarse as he replied, "Yeah, m’didn't want t’leave ‘er."

The nurse's gaze held a mixture of understanding and reassurance. "She's in safe hands here, Mr. Styles. We're doing everything we can for her."

Harry's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the woman he loved. "I know, but I just... I can't leave her side."

The nurse nodded in understanding, her demeanour empathetic. "It's understandable that you want to be here for her. Just know that if you need anything – a drink, a meal, a moment to step outside – the nurses' station is just outside the door. Don't hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I appreciate that."

With a final nod, the nurse completed her assessments and left the room, her presence a brief yet comforting interlude in the otherwise tense environment. Left alone once more with (Y/N), Harry's gaze returned to her face, his emotions a tumultuous mix of concern, love, and longing.

"Y’not alone in this," Harry whispered, his voice gentle. His fingers traced over her skin, the wedding band on her left hand a poignant reminder of the life they had built together. "We're in this together."

14:17pm.

Later in the afternoon, Harry's phone rang, shattering the quiet stillness of the room. His heart jumped at the sound, and he quickly retrieved the device, seeing his mum Anne's name on the screen. With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, he answered the call.

" ‘Ey, Mum," Harry greeted, his voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

"Harry, love," Anne's warm voice came through the line, tinged with concern. "I saw the announcement about the tour. Is everything alright?"

Harry's eyes welled up with tears, his emotions still raw and close to the surface. He took a deep breath, his voice shaky as he replied, "No, Mum. Everything's not alright."

Anne's voice softened with worry. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Harry's voice quivered as he began to recount the events of the past day, from the car accident to (Y/N)'s injuries and the delicate situation with their unborn child. As he spoke, the emotions that he had been trying to hold back surged forth, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I just... I can't lose her, Mama," Harry choked out, his voice breaking. "And Alfie... I don't want ‘im t’go through this. I don't know what t’do."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, a pause that carried a weight of empathy and understanding. Then, Anne's voice came through, filled with unwavering support.

"I'm catching the first flight out, Harry," Anne said firmly. "I want to be there for you, for Alfie, and for (Y/N)."

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude, his breath hitching as he wiped away tears. "Mum, y’don't have t’ I know y’have y’own commitments."

Anne's voice was resolute. "Harry, you're my son. Family comes first, always. I want to be there for all of you."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes once more, this time fueled by the overwhelming love and comfort that his mother's words brought. He took a shaky breath, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Thank you, Mum. I... I really need y’right now."

"Of course, love," Anne replied gently. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Take care of yourself and Alfie."

18:30pm.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm and soothing light across the hospital room, Harry remained rooted in his seat beside your bed. His unwavering presence was a testament to his devotion and concern for you, a quiet guardian watching over you as machines softly beeped and hummed in the background, a symphony of hope and uncertainty.

As the day's shadows grew longer, Harry turned his gaze to your serene face, his fingers still delicately entwined with your frail ones. With a tender smile, he began to speak, his voice a soothing balm in the hushed room.

"M’sun," he began, his words a blend of affection and determination,

His voice carried a note of eagerness, a glimmer of the future he envisioned. Gently, he reached out, his fingertips brushing against her hand as if conveying his sentiments through touch.

"When y’better we’ll go back t’England," he continued, a touch of excitement in his tone. "We'll leave everything behind f’a’while – the tour, the noise, the schedules. It can all wait. We can wait."

His gaze then shifted to her stomach, where their child was growing, a symbol of their love and resilience.

"N’this lil’one," he said softly, as though speaking directly to their unborn child, "we'll take y’to the places y’never seen. The countryside, the beaches, the parks. We'll have picnics and adventures. Your mum, I, and your big brother, Alf, we're going t’show y’the world."

A tender smile played on Harry's lips as he imagined the joy that such simple moments would bring to their son's life.

"We'll watch the sunset by the sea," Harry murmured, his voice an intimate whisper. "It'll be just the four of us, wrapped’n’blankets, sharing stories’n’laughter. We'll make memories that'll last a lifetime, (Y/N)."

His hand gently left hers and reached out, his palm resting tenderly on her stomach. The connection felt tangible, a bridge between the present challenges and the future joys they were determined to experience.

"We'll have all the time in the world," he promised softly. "Time for us, f’our family. No rush, no pressures. Just our love and the life we're creating."

DAY TWO. 14th August, 2022. — 08:03am.

The next day's gentle light filled the hospital room, casting a sense of quiet hope. Anne, Harry's mother, entered with a mixture of concern and determination etched on her face. Her gaze fell upon Harry, who remained hunched over in his chair, his fingers tightly interwoven with yours, and his eyes red-rimmed with sleeplessness. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took in his exhausted appearance, noticing the telltale signs of strain.

"Harry," Anne's voice held both care and worry as she walked over. She crouched down next to him, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, love."

His eyes blinked open at her touch, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and relief as he registered his mother's presence. He managed a small smile, grateful for her being there.

"Mum?" His voice was hoarse, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

Anne offered him a soft smile, her fingers brushing a wayward strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, Harry."

He pushed himself up in the chair, a mixture of relief and emotions washing over him. He looked at his mother, his eyes red and heavy with sleepless nights, his exhaustion painted across his features like a canvas of worry.

Anne's eyes flickered with concern as she took in his appearance. "Harry, love, you look exhausted. How long have you been here?"

His gaze dropped, a mixture of guilt and weariness weighing heavily on him. "I... I haven't left ‘er side."

Anne's voice was a gentle mix of understanding and concern.

"Oh, Harry." She reached out, her hand gently lifting his chin, guiding his gaze back to her. Her fingers brushed away the tracks of tears that had silently fallen down his cheeks. "You can’t do this alone, my love."

He looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mum. But I can't leave her. I can't..."

Anne's touch was soft as she cupped his cheek, her eyes brimming with motherly warmth. "Harry, you need rest too."

He turned his gaze back to yours, his expression one of intense worry and fear. "M’scared, Mum. Scared t’leave ‘er."

Anne's voice held a comforting note as she spoke. "I understand, H. But you need to recharge so you can be strong for (Y/N) and for Alfie."

His eyes met hers, his vulnerability shining through as his voice cracked. "Thank you, Mum. F’being here."

Anne's smile was tender, her thumb brushing his cheek as she wiped away a lingering tear. "Always, Harry. Always."

As their gazes held, the room seemed to fill with a sense of connection, the unbreakable bond of family reminding them that they were not alone in facing the challenges ahead.

Anne's voice held a reassuring note as she spoke once more. "Listen to me, Harry. You need to go home, get a shower, and spend some time with Alfie. He's probably got a lot of questions about where you and (Y/N) are. You can come back right after."

Harry hesitated, his eyes drifting back to you. "But ‘hat if something happens?"

Anne's hand rested on his cheek, her touch warm and grounding. "I'll be here the whole time. I promise, if anything happens, I'll call you right away."

The weight of Anne's reassurance settled over him like a comforting embrace, giving him the permission he needed to take care of himself and his family.

"Okay," he finally nodded, his voice soft and weary. "Okay, Mum."

08:58am.

Harry's car pulled into his manager Jeff's driveway, the engine's soft hum fading into the tranquil neighbourhood. He sat there for a moment, his thoughts a maelstrom of worry and uncertainty. This visit, intended to be a routine pickup of Alfie, had taken on a weight he hadn't expected. He took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening briefly before he finally turned off the ignition. For a few lingering seconds, he sat there, his hands resting on the wheel, gathering his strength.

With a deep sigh, Harry opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement. Each step to the front door felt heavy, a silent acknowledgment of the upheaval that had consumed his life. Before he could fully process it, he stood before the door, his knuckles poised to knock. In that fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, as if hoping to find solace in the darkness behind his lids.

The knock resounded through the door, a signal of his presence. As he waited, his heart seemed to echo the rhythm of the universe, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. The door swung open, revealing Jeff, his manager. The lines of concern etched on Jeff's face reflected the tumult that Harry carried within himself.

"Hey, H," Jeff greeted, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy.

Harry managed a faint smile, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed the facade. "Hey, mate. M’gonna pick up Alf and then take ‘im t’see ‘is mum."

Jeff's eyes softened, recognizing the weight Harry carried. "Yeah, he's inside. Come on in."

Harry stepped into the familiar surroundings, the walls of Jeff's house offering a silent embrace. He took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his emotions press against his chest. A mixture of memories and apprehensions filled the air, an intangible current that Harry navigated with each step he took.

"Alfie, it's your dad!" Harry's voice carried a blend of warmth and longing, the words directed down the hallway where his son would soon appear.

From within the depths of the house, a small voice responded, "Daddy?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his son's voice. He waited, his gaze fixated on the hallway, his breath caught in his throat.

And then, as if from a distant dream, Alfie burst into view. His face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he saw his dad. "Daddy!"

A rush of emotion overcame Harry as Alfie ran towards him, his little arms wrapping around his legs in an enthusiastic hug. Harry's own arms encircled his son, holding him close as if he were his anchor in the storm. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a mixture of relief and tenderness flooding his heart.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with both love and weariness. He knelt down, his fingers ruffling Alfie's hair with a gentleness that only a father could muster.

Alfie looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Are we going somewhere, Daddy?"

Harry managed a small, affectionate smile, his heart a tapestry of emotions. "Yea’ Alf. We're going t’go home and then go and see someone."

Alfie's face lit up with a radiant smile, his excitement contagious. "Yay!"

09:16am.

Harry's car rolled to a stop in front of their home, the engine's soft purr fading into the tranquil surroundings. The journey from Jeff's house had been a mixture of quiet conversations and Alfie's enthusiastic recounting of his day. As Harry stepped out of the car, he glanced up at their home, a mixture of warmth and heaviness settling over him. The familiarity of the place was a welcome comfort, yet the weight of the situation cast a shadow over everything.

Alfie bounded out of the car, his small steps carrying a youthful exuberance as he rushed towards the front door. His laughter filled the air as he fumbled with the keys under Harry's watchful eye.

"Alright there, buddy?" Harry's voice carried a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

Alfie looked up at his dad, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Yeah, Daddy! Can we play pirates when we get inside?"

Harry's smile was fond, a genuine reflection of his love for his son. " ‘f’course, mate. We can play pirates."

With the door unlocked, Alfie swung it open with a triumphant grin, his youthful energy infectious. As they stepped inside, the house enveloped them in a familiar embrace, the creak of floorboards and the soft hum of appliances a testament to the life they had built together.

"Daddy, look!" Alfie's voice carried from the living room, his excitement tangible even from a distance.

Harry followed his voice and found Alfie standing amidst a makeshift pirate ship of cushions and blankets. A sense of warmth filled Harry's heart as he watched his son play, the innocence of childhood a precious balm against the storm of emotions that had consumed their lives.

"Great job, Captain Alfie," Harry said with a playful salute, his heart aching with both sadness and a fierce determination to be strong for his son.

As Alfie continued his pirate adventures, Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and quietly retreated down the hallway. He stepped into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. The sound of the running water provided a gentle rhythm, a backdrop to the thoughts that had been hovering at the edges of his mind.

The water cascaded over Harry's body, the warmth soothing his muscles but doing little to ease the ache in his heart. As he stood under the spray, his head bowed, tears mingled with the water, the release of his emotions a quiet catharsis.

He lathered up a razor and carefully shaved, the rhythmic motion offering a small sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for another to dry his hair.

As he moved through the motions of getting dressed, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at him was a complex tapestry of emotions – a father, a husband, a man who was holding onto hope amidst uncertainty.

The tears he had shed in the shower had left traces on his face, a silent testament to the pain he was carrying. But as he looked at himself, there was a quiet strength in his eyes, a resolve to be the pillar of support that his family needed.

With one last glance in the mirror, Harry stepped out of the bathroom, his footsteps carrying him back to the living room where Alfie's laughter echoed. The journey ahead was uncertain, but in the simple moments like this, Harry found the strength to navigate the storm, determined to be the anchor that held his family together.

10:01am.

As they sat in the back of the car, the engine's gentle hum providing a comforting backdrop, Harry stole a glance at Alfie. His son's curious eyes were fixed on the passing scenery, his mind likely filled with questions that he didn't yet know how to voice. Harry took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the task ahead.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry began, his voice gentle yet tinged with a mixture of sadness and reassurance.

Alfie turned his head to look at his dad, his expression a mix of curiosity and trust. "Yeah, Daddy?"

Harry smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "Y’know how Mummy's not at home right now? She's in the hospital."

Alfie's brows furrowed slightly, his young mind processing the information. "Why is Mummy in the hospital, Daddy?"

Harry sighed softly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel for a moment before he continued. "Well, y’remember when we talked about how sometimes people get hurt or sick, and doctors help them feel better?"

Alfie nodded, his gaze fixed on his dad's face, absorbing every word.

"Exactly," Harry affirmed. "Mummy got a lil’hurt, ‘n’the doctors are taking care of her t’make sure she gets better."

Alfie's expression shifted to one of concern, his eyes widening slightly. "Is Mummy going to be okay, Daddy?"

Harry's voice held a soothing tone, his hand reaching back to briefly squeeze Alfie's knee. "Ye’,buddy. The doctors are doing everything they can, and we're going t’visit her right now."

Alfie nodded slowly, the weight of the situation evident in his gaze. "Can I see Mummy, Daddy?"

Harry smiled softly, his heart aching at his son's innocence. " f’course, Alf. We're going t’see her together."

As they continued on the journey to the hospital, the atmosphere in the car was a blend of quiet anticipation and unspoken emotions. Harry's grip on the steering wheel was steady, his thoughts a mixture of concern for (Y/N) and a determination to provide comfort and reassurance to Alfie.

"Buddy," Harry said after a moment, his voice gentle, "if y’have any questions or if y’feeling worried, y’can always talk t’me. I'm here f’you."

Alfie's small hand reached out to grasp Harry's, his fingers curling around his dad's hand. "I love you, Daddy."

Tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes, his grip on the steering wheel momentarily tightening. "I love you too, Alfie. We're a team, okay? We'll get through this together."

10:35am.

Harry walked into the hospital room, Alfie nestled in his arms, their footsteps quiet against the linoleum floor. The room, typically a place of healing, was filled with an air of uncertainty and tension. Harry's gaze shifted from the floor to the sight that awaited them – you lying still on the bed, your eyes closed, your form a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew.

As they entered, Alfie's eyes widened, his gaze immediately drawn to the figure on the bed. He also noticed Anne sat next to the bed,However, this time, the usual excitement that would accompany seeing his grandmother wasn't present. His little body tensed in Harry's arms, his eyes fixated on his mother's still form, the weight of the situation settling over him.

"Daddy," Alfie's voice was a mere whisper, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry held him a bit tighter, his heart aching at the realisation that Alfie was trying to process what he was seeing. "Yea’, buddy?"

Alfie's small hand pointed toward the corner of the room, where Anne stood, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and love. Typically, Alfie would have dashed over to her with the energy only a child possessed, but now, he seemed frozen in place.

"Is that Grandma, Daddy?" Alfie's voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Harry nodded, his own eyes briefly meeting Anne's before he turned his attention back to his son. "Yea’, that's Grandma."

Alfie's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes filling with a mixture of emotions that were too complex for his young heart to fully understand. He looked back at Harry, his voice carrying a request that seemed beyond his years. "Daddy, can I go hold Mummy's hand?"

Harry's heart swelled with both sadness and pride at Alfie's resilience. He walked over to the bed, carefully lowering Alfie to the edge of it. "Of course, Alf. Y’can even give her a little cuddle, j’gotta be careful."

Alfie's tiny hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before he gently placed it on your hand, his eyes studying her features as if searching for a sign of life. His other hand rested on your arm, his touch gentle yet filled with an innocence that brought tears to Harry's eyes.

As Alfie leaned in, his small body pressed against his mother's, Harry stood beside them, his emotions a tempest within him. He watched as Alfie's head rested on your chest, his breaths steady, as if seeking solace in the closeness of his mother.

"Y’doing great, buddy," Harry whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Alfie's voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and longing. "Is Mummy asleep, Daddy?"

Harry's heart ached at the innocence in his son's question. "Yeah, Alf, she's asleep right now."

Alfie's gaze remained fixed on yours, his small fingers curling around your cold hand. The room held a fragile sense of connection, as if time itself had slowed down to honour the moment. In that stillness, Harry watched his son, his heart both heavy with grief and full of hope for the future.

DAY THREE. 15th August, 2022. — 14:12am.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the hospital room. Harry sat by your side, his gaze fixed on your still form, his thoughts a jumble of hope and uncertainty. Anne had taken Alfie back to the house, giving Harry some time alone with his wife.

As he sat there lost in his thoughts, the door creaked open, and a doctor entered the room. Harry looked up, his eyes meeting the doctor's with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

"Good morning," the Dr Parker greeted, his voice gentle and reassuring. “How’re you holding up?”

Harry managed a faint smile, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and fatigue. "Doing m’best, thank you."

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly, his gaze shifting to your form before back to Harry. "I'm here to talk to you about the next steps. Given the circumstances, we'd like to perform an ultrasound to check on the baby."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the baby. The mixture of hope and fear that had been his constant companion intensified. "F’course, whatever y’think is best."

A nurse entered the room, carrying the necessary equipment for the ultrasound. She smiled at Harry as she prepared for the procedure. "Hello, I'm Chloe. We'll make sure everything goes smoothly."

Harry offered a small smile in return although it never fully reached his eyes, his eyes shifting between the doctor and the nurse. "Thank you."

As the nurse prepped the ultrasound machine, Dr. Parker explained the procedure to Harry. "We'll be able to see the baby on the screen and check for any signs of distress or complications. It's a routine precautionary measure."

Harry nodded, his fingers involuntarily tracing patterns on your hand. "I understand."

The nurse positioned the ultrasound device on your abdomen, and the monitor came to life, displaying the fuzzy image of the baby. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw the tiny figure on the screen – their unborn child, a symbol of hope amid the uncertainty.

He watched as the nurse moved the device, the image shifting slightly, revealing more details of the baby. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the machine.

"There we go," the nurse's voice was gentle, her expertise apparent in the way she manoeuvred the device.

Dr. Parker stood by, her gaze shifting between the screen and Harry's expression. "Everything looks good so far. The baby's heartbeat is strong."

A rush of relief washed over Harry at the doctor's words. He couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, a mixture of awe and gratitude for the life that was growing within your body.

As the nurse finished the ultrasound, she smiled at Harry. "You have a healthy, strong baby here."

Harry's eyes were fixed on the screen for a moment longer, his voice soft. "Thank you."

The nurse and the doctor left the room, giving Harry some space. He turned his attention back to you, his hand gently resting on your abdomen. The image of their baby, captured on the ultrasound screen, held a promise of better days ahead. As he sat there, a sense of determination settled within him, a resolve to be strong for his family and to hold onto hope, no matter the challenges they faced.

15:05pm.

Later in the afternoon, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. Harry sat by your bedside, his gaze shifting between your still form and the monitor that displayed the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The room held a hushed stillness, as if time itself had slowed down in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Harry's hand rested on your stomach, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken tenderness. As he looked at the monitor, his thoughts drifted to the tiny life that was growing within your – their unborn bundle. His heart swelled with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

" ‘Ey there, little one," Harry's voice was soft, his fingers tracing patterns on your abdomen. "Y’mum and I, we're here f’y’We're going t’be strong, just like y’mum."

His gaze shifted to your face, his heart aching at the sight of the bruises that were slowly starting to become more prominent. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Y’mum's the strongest person I know, y’know? She's been through s’much, and she's still fighting. Y’going t’be just as strong as her."

A soft smile tugged at Harry's lips as he imagined their future together as a family of four. He leaned down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your stomach, as if to convey his love and hope directly to their unborn child.

"Y’not alone in this, lil’one," Harry continued, his voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and determination. "We're all in this together. And when y’ready t’meet the world, y’have a whole lot of people who love ye’."

As he spoke, the room seemed to hold a sense of promise, a quiet sanctuary where his words held the power to bridge the gap between the present and the future. Harry's hand remained on your stomach, his touch a physical connection to the life that were growing within her.

"We're going t’get through this, y’and me and y’mum," Harry's voice was a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the unborn baby. "And when y’mum wakes up, we're going t’tell her all about ye’. She's going t’love y’so much."

Harry's gaze shifted back to your face,his heart filled with a mixture of longing and hope. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Hang in there, love. We're all waiting f’you."

As Harry's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the universe itself was listening to his heartfelt monologue. His hand remained on your stomach, his touch both tender and resolute. He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, a mixture of emotions welling up within him.

And then, in a moment that felt like a miracle, your hand twitches in his hold.

Harry gasped, his heart leaping in his chest. He stared at your hand, disbelief and hope warring within him. Before he could react, the heart rate monitor suddenly went off, the rapid beeping filling the room with urgency.

With a sense of determination, Harry bolted out of the room, his heart pounding in his ears. He found Dr. Parker in the hallway and quickly explained what had just happened – how your hand had moved, triggering the heart rate alarm.

Dr. Parker's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Let's not waste any time. Come with me."

Harry followed the doctor back into the room, his pulse racing as they reached your bedside. A sense of tension hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

Dr. Parker approached the heart rate monitor, checking the readings and your vitals. His expression was a mix of concentration and cautious hope. He adjusted a few settings on the machines, his fingers moving with practised precision.

"She's trying to breathe on her own," Dr. Parker said, his voice carrying a note of astonishment. "Her body is responding to stimuli."

Harry's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He looked at your figure, his fingers gently brushing against your hand. "Y’doing it, m’love. Y’fighting."

Dr. Parker continued his assessments, his focus unwavering as he monitored the changes in your condition. The room seemed to vibrate with a newfound energy, a sense of possibility that had been absent for so long.

As the minutes ticked by, the heart rate monitor displayed a steadier rhythm, and Dr. Parker nodded in approval. "She's showing signs of improvement. She could wake up at any moment. It's a positive step forward."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank y’Doctor."

18:45pm.

The hospital room was cocooned in the gentle embrace of the night. The soft glow of the dimmed bedside lamp cast a warm and soothing ambiance, casting delicate shadows across the walls. The rhythmic beep of the heart rate monitor punctuated the stillness, a reassuring reminder of the life that pulsed within the room.

Alfie sat nestled on his father's lap, his small frame comfortably settled against Harry's chest. The hospital chair cradled them both, a makeshift throne where father and son formed an intimate fortress of love and togetherness. Harry's arms wrapped protectively around Alfie, holding him close as they shared the moment.

Alfie's concentrated expression was etched with a mixture of focus and determination. His tiny fingers clutched a pencil, his brow furrowing as he tackled the math problems that were laid out before him on the sheet of paper. Harry watched with a blend of admiration and amusement, his heart swelling at the sight of Alfie's dedication.

"Okay, buddy," Harry's voice was a gentle blend of guidance and encouragement, "y’got this. J’add those numbers together."

Alfie's tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The tip of the pencil move with purpose, crossing out digits and jotting down numbers. Every so often, Alfie would glance up at Harry, his gaze seeking validation and assurance.

Harry's fingers gently brushed the back of Alfie's head, offering silent encouragement. "Y’doing great, Alf. Keep going."

The two of them formed a heartwarming tableau, a portrait of fatherly support and shared effort. Amid the beeping monitors and the hushed hum of the hospital, Harry and Alfie created their own small world, a world in which challenges were met with determination and love was expressed through shared moments.

And then, in the midst of the quietude, a movement caught Harry's attention. His eyes shifted from the maths problems to the bed, where you lay, and his heart ricocheted against his rib cage.

Your eyes were open and staring at your two boys.

“(Y/N)?” Harry spoke in a hushed whisper as you tried to smile at him.

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valentiyne · 7 months

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𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 & 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗌 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Famous!Reader Summary: Requested! After 4 years of agreed no contact, one phone call and song takes back all that you've worked for. Warnings: Mild Cursing, Slight of Explicit Content. Word Count: 1k (not rlly proofread lol) Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

"So, Y/n tell us more about Calum Hood"

A name I hadn't heard in exactly 4 years to the very date.

48 months, 1461 days, and 35040 excruciating long fucking hours.

My face immediately lights up at the name nevertheless, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously,

"Hood? I'm not quite sure what this has to do with my upcoming EP coming out at midnight", I breathlessly laugh out, my eyes locking with the interviewer in front of me. My new work titled, "Bittersweet" was launching at midnight, only containing 4 songs to go along with the 4 bittersweet years I've spent away from him. It was hopeless of me to write about him, but he was the only source of inspiration I could find.

"Well you two had a bit of chemistry as far as we know, is that right?"

Sure we did. We spent over 6 years together on and off, but always came back to each other. He was my rock, my everything, but ultimately we knew it wasn't going to work out.

"Sure we did, I mean it was nothing but a mere innocent crush", I cross my legs now, my shaky hands clasped on top of my knees. The crowd was silent as excited fans packed into the small room to hear the soft launch before midnight.

"Well it was surely more than innocent", she motions to the screen next to us. "This picture was taken four years ago in Bali during the second leg of their tour", I mentally roll my eyes but smile anyway. A few people from the crowd squealed as the iconic picture of us in cuddled up on the beach was displayed, the same one he posted himself as an excuse to have me on his page.

"Like I said- It was a small crush" I was trying to convince myself more than everyone else.

I watch as the slideshow continues on, the screen filled with every single moment in time that Calum and I were spotted together across the world. A few innocent ones of us walking next to each other, to one taken on the balcony of a hotel. We were just kids who didn't know what they were doing- lost in the moment together. He will always have a place in my heart. When things ultimately ended, we both agreed to never speak again- it was only weighing each other down.

"Well I thank you for your time, I hope everyone enjoys the album and finds some comfort in the chaos", I stand up abruptly, extending my hand to shake the interviewer's hand. The crowd cheered quietly as I walked off the stage with a slight wave. I needed to get out of here, I felt like a complete idiot working myself up over someone that I no longer talked to.

I slipped past the stage crew as I shuffled out past the backdoors and towards the parking lot, my fingers fumbling with my keys as I tore my driver's door open and plopped down dramatically. The door shut behind me and I sighed to myself loudly,

That was fucking ridiculous, they didn't even ask anything about me. Just about someone I never wanted to mention. Of course, I could talk about him until the end of time, but it wasn't my place to do so anymore. He was playing sold-out shows every other day and had no worry about a girl back home who happened to have matching tattoos with him, right? The tattoo we shared was of a small flower underneath our ribs, the same flower he gave me on our one-year "situationshipversary" as he called it. It was a silly gesture that I treasured, the California wildflower that he pulled over on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway to pick during peak traffic on the way to my house. It now lay inside a small glass bottle hung around my neck, all wilted like our history.

I pull my phone from my purse, scrolling down to the bottom of my contact list, and clicking on the "DO NOT CALL!!!!" number. I hesitantly dial his number and bring it up to my ear,

"Hey! You reached Calum, I'm away from my phone right now but leave a message!", He declined it immediately, either that or his phone was dead. Not quite sure which one makes me feel better. I roll my eyes at the stupid prepubescent voice and turn my phone off.

I tossed my phone down onto my lap and leaned my head against the wheel. I subconsciously wanted to log back into my Instagram and scroll down an update page to find out anything about him. I had no idea what he was up to or who he was with, it's been years since I've last heard his voice.

"You know this isn't good for either of us, Y/n", he rang through my head as I remember standing on his porch in late July.

"Calum, we've been through this so many times- why can't we just try?"

He runs his hand through his freshly cut hair and shakes his head, "It never ends well, I feel like a fucking lost dog who always limps its way back to you.. I just- Fuck- I can't do thi-"

The last thing I remember was the door closing in my face, leaving me all alone with no closure. I could hear him on the other side, a thump on the door indicating he was leaning against it. I tried for the handle, jiggling it a few times before banging on it, begging for him to talk to me. I couldn't stay mad at him forever, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream at him, slap him in his beautiful face, and kiss him all at once.

My phone vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked down,

DO NOT CALL!!!!

My heart skips a beat, staring at my phone on my lap buzzing away. I bit my lip softly, pulling it closer to my face as I accepted the FaceTime call.

The camera was pointing to the ceiling when I answered, his voice booming loudly as he spoke.

"Hello?"

I let let a breath I didn't know I was holding, trying to gather the right words to say. What was I supposed to say after all this time?

"Cal?", my voice is softer than I had hoped for, the word slipping past my lip like it's begging to finally be let out.

"Holy shit", the camera shifts and he props it up against the wall, waving at me with one hand. Calum sits in his studio chair with his old bass in his lap, headphones pushed back against his long curly hair. His eyes are wide as he raises an eyebrow, "Shit, long time no see."

I adjust the camera against my steering wheel and scoot my seat back, allowing for a better view of myself as I smile innocently with an awkward wave. "Hi Cal, how ya been?" I see his eyes travel down to the necklace around my neck, my fingers dancing around the bottle as I speak.

"Shit, Y/n if I'd known it was you calling I would've answered way faster, I just had deleted your number-", he stops himself, looking up with a sympathetic crooked smile before sighing. I raise a hand up to reassure him instead, "Calum", god saying his name tugs at my heartstrings, "It's okay, I get it... we don't have to dance around it.. now what are you up to?"

He was lying, Calum hood was bluffing to my face and I had no idea. After all this time, he still had my contact listed as "My wildflower", but he couldn't dare admit to me that he didn't answer sooner because he was scared.

Scared of what I was going to say

Scared id tell him I found someone new

Scared of seeing or hearing me again

"I'm actually working on a song right now", he laughs and holds the iconic bass up, a small spot right under the strings that once had a star sticker I placed on it- now scraped off.

I make a face, reminding myself that that was the past and I shouldn't dwell on it too much, but seeing him happier without me didn't make me feel like I thought it would. A part of me wished he was as miserable as I was, cooped up in my room writing stupid songs that were confessing my raw feelings.

"What's it about?", I chirp up as he bends down to play a few notes on the keyboard next to him, assuming it's the intro.

"It's about someone that was in my life, uh someone you don't know- she came around afterward", he says slowly, not meeting my eyes through the screen. I just nod in agreement, opening my mouth to speak.

"Would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week?", The words flow out before I had time to think about it. As I wait for his response, I pick at my nails- a habit he absolutely hated. He would smack my hand out of my mouth every chance we were together, telling me "I'd get worms in my belly" I did stop for a while, but my bitten nails were the only reminder he was actually gone.

"Yeah, I would love to!- Look I'll let you go but we'll keep in touch alright?", He speaks quickly, his hand flying down in one swift movement. With that, he ends the FaceTime call and I'm left looking at my reflection. I looked dumbfounded, smiling to myself as wide as I could.

I couldn't let myself fall for this again, for him- we both knew it wasn't going to end well for either of us. But hell it's been 4 years and I've changed as a person, and by the looks of it, he has too.

My phone buzzed once, twice, and then three before I looked back up at it to see three new messages from none other than Hood.

DO NOT CALL!!!!: I kinda lied, you do know the person I wrote it about

DO NOT CALL!!!!: mp3.wildflower.calumdemo.rec

DO NOT CALL!!!!: my wildflower ;)

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strawnarrries · 1 year

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Heaven

Summary: Niall is away doing promo for Heaven and you miss him in more ways than one.

Requested: No but I'm always open!

POV: 2nd

Warning(s): Phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk

The phone rang three times before his face popped up on your screen, a grin planted on his lips, "Hey baby!"

"Hi," you mimicked his grin, happy to see his face.

Niall had been in LA doing promo for his new single Heaven as well as his upcoming album. He was going to be gone for a total of five weeks and you knew you were going to miss him like crazy. It had been years since you and Niall were long-distance. It was something you two went through pretty often while he was in the band and as well as his first solo tour. Because of Covid, you have had him all to yourself for almost three years now, so you knew it would be hard for him to leave again.

You would have gone to LA with him, but neither of you wanted to go through the hassle of taking your almost two-year-old son on the road, as well as risking him being seen by the public. Once Niall had officially canceled his tour for Heartbreak Weather, you had decided it was the perfect time to start the family you both had been wanting so dearly. Everybody knew it would be a while before things were back to normal, so you knew Niall would be home long enough to be with you throughout your entire pregnancy and the beginning stages of his little one's life.

During that time, he continued to write music, perfecting each song he wrote. Three years later, he realized how much he missed it. He missed interacting with all his fans, going to award shows, and being on tour. All three of you were at a good place for him to get back into the groove of things and start releasing new music, so he did.

"I miss my hubby," you pouted, watching as he started up the car and began driving to your LA home.

"Aw, I miss ya too. What time is it there?"

"Like midnight."

"What'rya doin' up?"

"I couldn't sleep," you hummed softly.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked concernedly.

"I just miss you," you replied, your voice deepening slightly.

You missed him; every single part of him. It had been about two weeks since you had last seen him. You missed his touch, his lips, the way he made you feel. You wanted him so bad. You were laying down on his side of the bed, the smell of his shampoo coating his pillow and filling your senses, arousing you even more than you already were.

"Just a few more weeks and I'll be home," he soothed.

"No Niall, I mean I miss you in more ways than one," you replied, slightly frustrated that he wasn't picking up on your hints.

"Oh, I see," he smirked, "yer tryna have phone sex wit' me!"

"Niall!" you groaned into your pillow.

"'s been years since we done that, babe," he teased and you rolled your eyes, "well, 'm on me way home and I've got a few hours before me next interview so I think I can squeeze ya int' me schedule."

"You're so annoying," you teased.

He giggled and began asking you about your day while he drove home. You spoke back and forth, telling each other about your days; you spoke about the funny things your son had done and he spoke about the interviews he already attended. It took him about 45 minutes to get home, LA traffic was not on your side today but once he pulled into the garage, you began to get antsy.

"Are ya naked?" he asked as he walked through the door, setting down his things and taking off his shoes.

"No," you replied.

"Go ahead and get naked fer me," he ordered and you immediately obeyed, taking off every piece of clothing you had on.

It wasn't much later that he was up in the bedroom, discarding his clothing as well, getting as excited as you are, "Makin' me feel like a teenager again, babe."

"I miss you so much," you whispered desperately.

You couldn't resist the urge any longer. You reached your hand down to your throbbing center, fingers pressed against your clit and rubbing back and forth.

"Ya touchin' yerself?" he asked.

"Yeah," you whimpered.

"Wanna see ya, prop yer phone up."

You did as you were told, grabbing his pillow from his side of the bed and setting it down by your feet. You propped your phone up against it, doing your best to put it at the perfect angle for him to see, but still make it look sexy, "Dunno how I ever made this sexy."

"Yer always sexy," he smirked.

After flicking on the bedside table light so he could see you better, you leaned back on your left hand to support your body up. You spread your legs again and resumed your activities while he groaned, "Fuckin' hell, yer soaked. Been thinkin' of me?"

"Mhm, all day. Do you like watching me touch myself?"

"Yes, yer so hot."

He positioned his phone in a similar way as you did, revealing himself to you. His hand was wrapped around his member, already throbbing in anticipation. Once comfortable, he began moving his hand up and down, biting his lip as he watched you please yourself.

Your jaw went slack as you quickened your pace. You could already feel your orgasm growing, in desperate need of a release. You imagined your fingers were his, calloused tips moving back and forth across your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"Talk t' me. What do you wanna do t' me when you get home?" you hummed, wanting to hear his voice.

"Jesus," he groaned, "Everything, babe, I wanna do everything t' ya. I wanna kiss ya and taste ya. Wanna feel you wrapped around me cock. Gonna be so tight fer me once I get home, I just know it."

You whimpered his name as your head lolled to the side, "You always make me feel so good. I wish you were here with me."

"Me too. Not much longer and me fingers will be right where yers are," he breathed out, "Can ya stick one inside of ya?"

You hummed in response, moving south and circling your dripping entrance with the tip of your middle finger. You lifted your head up and watched as you easily slipped it in, feeling just how wet you are. You moved it in and out of you, the sound of your wetness filling the room and Niall cursed to himself. You let out a moan and your eyes fluttered closed.

"Jesus Christ, dis's so hot," he groaned, mostly to himself, "'s it feel good?"

With each entrance, you curled your fingers up, just like he would do. His fingers were much better than yours, longer and able to reach all your special spots. You made yourself feel good, but there was something about Niall's touch that you couldn't fulfill yourself, "Mhm, but not as good as when you do it."

"I know yer body better than ya know yer own, don't I?" he smirked smugly.

You hummed in response, watching as his hand moved up and down his member, squeezing tighter once he got to the tip, precum oozing out with each squeeze. Your mouth watered as you watched him, missing the way he whimpered when you wrapped your lips around him.

"I want you inside me so bad," you whined, your head lolling back again, "You fill me up so perfectly, Ni. I feel so empty right now."

"I'd kill t' be inside ya right now. I miss how ya feel around me. Always so wet and warm, fuck," he breathed out in response.

You laid back down on your back, your hips instinctively bucking up into your hand. You slipped your finger out of your entrance and began spreading your wetness. Landing on your clit again, you moved the tip of your finger back and forth at a more rapid pace, your orgasm drawing closer and closer by the second.

"'m gonna cum," you whimpered softly.

"Do it, baby. Wanna see ya cum all over yer fingers," he encouraged, his voice deep and raspy.

Only a few seconds later and you could feel the tight band in your stomach begin to unravel. Your orgasm took over your entire body, crashing over you with waves of pleasure. Your back arched and your toes curled as your body was numbed with pleasure. You struggled not to moan, not wanting to wake up your son but you couldn't help the small whimpers that left your lips. Not long after you, you heard the deep groans of your husband on the phone, signaling he had just released too. The sounds of his sexy moans carried you through the end of your orgasm, your body slowly relaxing back into the soft sheets beneath you.

You both lay there in comfortable silence while you regained your breath. You soon reached down and grabbed your phone, pulling the covers up to your neck and watching as he did the same.

"'member dat one time we were havin' phone sex and Harry walked in on us," he giggled at the memory of when he was in One Direction.

"Oh gosh Niall, don't even bring that up, I was so embarrassed."

"'m just glad it was Harry and not Louis."

"I probably would've never visited you on tour ever again if it was Louis," you chuckled softly.

"Yer so cute," he grinned as you blushed slightly before he shifted the conversation, "Ya feel better?"

You shook your head.

"No?" he asked.

"Mm mm. I still miss you."

"Few more weeks. I promise. Now get some sleep."

You yawned, "okay."

"Goodnight, baby. I love ya," he hummed softly.

"Goodnight. I love you, Ni."

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ariundercovers · 2 months

Text

Traffic Jam (When Paths Cross Pt. VII, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3.5k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: A loaded question and some heated conversations.

Chapter Warnings: no porn only plot, ANGST, spanish nicknames, idiots in love, Chucho being a Dad to two idiots in love (the poor man omg).

A/N: I know this series is moving FAST but I'm so determined to actually finish this one that I'm writing quickly and just rolling with it! I hope the time gaps that are written in aren't too bothersome.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (VI) HERE

You walk into work the next morning with a bright smile on your face, lost in the dreaminess that is Javier Peña. Your head is stuck in the clouds, still giddy from his admission to you last evening.

He loves you.

Javier Peña loves you.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this high. Sure, you’ve felt you were in love before, but it’s never been like this. Never this intense, sudden, unexpected. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

One of your coworkers notices your giddy mood and you end up gushing everything out to her, a stupid smile on your face when you tell her what he said about the necklace, and how he made you panic when he didn’t say “I love you” back right away. She smiles at you, tells you he sounds like a good man, and that she’s happy for you - happy to see you so excited and happy. She says love looks good on you.

And that’s how it goes for the next few weeks. It’s all love and butterflies and perfection and heart eyes and everything else gooey and good. But something keeps nagging at you - a question left unasked, unanswered. You need to know, and eventually, you can’t keep yourself from putting it out there.

When it happens, you’re at the mall of all places, looking for some jeans for Javi and a new suitcase for an upcoming work trip for you, given that you broke one of the wheels on your old one on the last trip. Eventually, you decide to take a rest with some overly sweet Chinese bourbon chicken in the food court. It’s pleasant and simple, but your mind can’t stop whirring, won’t stop thinking about all the possibilities, trying to piece together what your future might look like, what your future could look like.

It’s been long enough, right? You can ask. You can have an adult conversation.

You shared ‘I love you’s, for fuck’s sake. You can ask him this question.

You do your best to settle your nerves before speaking up, finishing up a bite of chicken before setting down your fork and looking up at Javi with a curious glance.

“What do you think about, when you think about the future?” Javi’s brow furrows as he regards you, head ticking to the side as he tries to wrap his mind around the question.

“What do you mean?”

You shrug slightly, thinking nothing of it. “I mean… the usual stuff, you know? Do you want to be in Laredo? Married? Kids? A House of your own? Still on the Ranch? That stuff.”

Javi blinks back at you for a long moment before he shakes his head and averts his eyes back down to where he’s picking at a pile of fried rice. “Yeah… I don’t think any of that is for me.”

You’re taken aback. That’s not the answer you were expecting, and not by a long shot. “Oh… I, uh… what part of it?”

He shakes his head again, looking up at you this time as he sets down his fork. The expression on his face is unreadable to you - like he’s suddenly a different person altogether. “All of it. I don’t… want that. Any of that.”

The two of you are completely silent for a long, long moment. You’re not sure how to phrase the miserable thought and emotion that’s bubbling up inside of you, but you eventually manage to put a few words to at least part of it.

“Does that mean you don’t want me, either?”

Javi looks taken aback as he answers, “No, that’s not what I said.”

“But… if you don’t want to get married, or kids, or a house, or any of it… ever, what’s the point of this? What are we doing?”

He grunts, frustrated as he reaches up to pinch at his brow with his finger tips. “Isn’t this enough?”

You sigh, shrugging. You’re not sure how to answer him. “I mean… for now, but…”

“But what?” He cuts you off before you can even finish the thought. You’re taken aback, again, and you lean forward as you try to muster up a coherent response.

“I’m not a child anymore, Javi. I want to be thinking about the future, I don’t want to keep wasting time with people and situations that don’t want anything to do with me in the long run. You really don’t ever want to get married? Or any of it? Nothing?” He sighs and rolls his eyes at you a little bit, the frustration in his face wildly apparent.

“No. I really don’t.”

It’s hard not to have a horrible expression glued to your face. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. In fact, it’s quite possibly the furthest thing from it.

“Ever?”

Javi slams his hand down on the table, and you’re taken aback by the frustration and power he puts into it. He’s never lashed out at you like this before, and you’re just not sure what to make of it. It startles you at best, maybe scares or frightens you at worst.

“No. Never. Can we move on, now?” You try to blink back the fear and frustration you’re feeling, because you know if you dwell on it much longer, you’ll end up crying. You can feel it brimming quickly behind your eyes.

“O-okay.”

You finish your meals in a terse silence that feels very uncomfortable and out of place for the two of you. You’ve never had this tense of a moment between you before, and you’re not sure how to get out of it. Eventually, you wait long enough without speaking that you just settle back into a relative normal as you’re shopping through the mall, looking for the right style and brand of jeans Javi wants.

It’s stuck in the back of your mind the entire time, however, so much so that you can barely focus on the questions Javi is asking you. You’re so fixated that you walk past several stores with luggage in the front window without even registering it, and Javi has to keep pulling you back to go in and look. Eventually, you give up.

“Javi, can we go home? Maybe we can look another day.” He looks at you quizzically, confused.

“Are you alright, muñeca?”

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling it. I’d like to go home.” He nods and takes your hand, turning around to head back to the exit where he parked the car. Nerves are bubbling up inside of you in a way that you haven’t felt since your final interview for the job at the arts center. Few things have made you freak out this badly, but you just can’t help repeating it in your brain, over and over again.

I don’t… want that. Any of that.

He didn’t want you long-term, either, that much was clear to you. You wondered what he was doing in all of this if he had no plans for longevity. Why keep leading you along like this? Why get you so attached that it’ll just hurt worse the longer he waits to end things? The feelings quickly turn to panic, and turn the contents of your stomach rancid.

You felt hopeless.

Javi leads you to the car, closing the door for you before getting into the driver’s seat and heading out, driving off in the direction of the ranch. The usually lovely winding roads that lead you back to the Peña farm house make you feel sickly and near-ill the entire ride there. It takes everything in you not to vomit in Javi’s passenger seat, holding it in as best as you can until he finally parks in front of the ranch. You hurry inside, past Chucho laid up in his recliner chair in the living room and lock yourself in the bathroom down the hall. You lean over the sink, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. After a few minutes of steady breathing, your stomach settles, and you look in the mirror to be confronted by red-rimmed eyes. You might as well have been crying the entire ride back to the house with how awful you looked.

You turn on the tap and splash some cold water on your face, the chill helping you feel a bit more settled and present in the moment than you had been. You’re still unnerved, your stomach unsettled, but you feel more like a human than you did on the road, certainly. It hits you suddenly that you’re going to need to bring this back up with Javi again to get some clarity. You wouldn’t be able to sleep or hardly even think without it.

Strolling back into Javi’s room, you find him pulling his new jeans out of the bag and removing the tags before tossing them in his hamper to wash. He turns to you with a half smile and a tilt of his head.

“Cariño. You feeling alright?” You nod somberly and have a seat at the end of his bed, waiting for him to finish. He wraps you up in his arms, pulling you down into the bed so he can tuck you in properly. “A nap, perhaps?”

You nod, curling into his arms with relative ease as he strokes your shoulder gently.

It’s keeping you wide awake, so you turn in his arms and look up at his face, sighing as you realize how awful this conversation might be.

“Javi?”

He doesn’t respond at first and you worry he might be asleep already. Eventually, he groans and asks, “What is it, muñeca?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath before you continue. “Javi… can you please talk to me about this no marriage and no kids thing?”

You can feel his body go rigid beneath the sheets - soft arms turn to violent blades wrapped around you as he stiffens. “What is there to talk about? I don’t want it.”

“What if I do? Can’t we just talk about it?” You roll onto your back, hoping a little bit of distance might help the tension you’re feeling between you. He turns and looks at you seriously, blinking a few times before he sighs and drops his head.

“I guess… you’ll just have to figure out how to deal with that disappointment.”

You scoff, his words grating at you. “What? Disappointment? We can’t even have a discussion about it? About the possibility, even?”

He shakes his head, looking back at you for a moment before he responds. “I don’t want it, cariño. I’m sorry.”

You huff, sitting up in the bed and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger inside of you is threatening to bubble up and lash out, so you do your best to temper it before you speak. The last thing you need to do is make all of this worse than it already is. But, the anger is bubbling up too quickly to be able to temper yourself fully. Your words still come out like a knife, sharp and targeted in a way that you’ve never spoken to him before. “So that means you get to make universal decisions for us now, too, huh?”

He’s taken aback as he sits up, as well, looking at you with a confused scowl. “What?”

You inch away from him, eyes boring holes into his skill. “I thought this was supposed to be a partnership.”

“What? Why are you getting like this? Things have been easy, good. I don’t know why you have to complicate it with this.” He shifts, reaching toward you, but you shirk away, his words seeding themselves deeply into your chest.

“Complicate? Is that what I am? A complication? Fuck. That’s not… that’s not what I’m in this for, Javier. I want to be more than a good fuck. I deserve to be more than that.”

“Cariño, that’s not what I said-”

You don’t let him finish his thought before you’re lashing out again. “Isn’t it? You’re not interested in anything more than what we have right now. And what we have right now is a lot of sex and casual conversations. We might as well be friends with benefits if that’s all you want out of this.”

He glares at you, frustrated, and shakes his head before standing up and pacing the room, from door to headboard, back and forth. “That’s… No, fuck. What the hell? You don’t know anything. You don’t fucking know anything.”

“And why is that? Because you won’t talk to me, Javier.”

He throws his hands up in frustration, his voice elevating as he responds. “It’s my business. I’m entitled to not talk about it if I don’t want to.”

You shake your head in disbelief at his obstinance and sigh. This wasn’t going anywhere. Shifting in the bed, you swing your legs over the side of it and stand, looking back at him briefly to respond. “Sure. Whatever. Screw this, Javi. I’m going home.”

Home.

There’s that stupid word again. You were starting to feel like it was more here, more with Javi and with Chucho, than it was anywhere else.

You suppose you were wrong.

Javi’s voice shifts as he starts to plead with you, “Wait, cariño, hold on-”

His begging falls on deaf ears as you collect your things from around the room and head out as quickly as you can, slamming his bedroom door behind you as you rush out, flustered. By the time you get to the front door, you remember you don’t even have your car. Javi drove you here earlier this afternoon. You pause, hand hovering over the doorknob, and you hear someone clearing their throat behind you.

Fuck. Chucho.

You turn around to see him sitting up in the recliner, head tilted to the side as he regards you. His rough voice soothes you after the piercing tones of Javi’s frustration.

“Heading out, mija?” You sigh, visibly deflating at the kind and caring tone he always offers you.

“I was going to, but-”

He cuts you off so you don’t even need to say it yourself. “You need a ride?” As you nod in response, he starts to stand, slowly, knees creaking as he rises. “Come on. I’ll take you.”

You’re grateful beyond belief that he doesn’t push further, doesn’t ask why Javi isn’t out in the living room, or why you need a ride from someone not his son. He just gets up and silently throws on his boots, grabbing his keys from a hook behind the door as he pushes outside, holding the door for you. You climb into the passenger seat of his pickup truck, fastening your seatbelt as he starts it up and pulls around the driveway, heading back onto those same winding roads you had come to love.

A few minutes into the drive, he clears his throat, his wide-brimmed hat tipping in your direction. “I’m not going to ask you if you want to talk about it, because I’m sure you don’t. But I have a few things I’d like to say, if that’s okay.” You turn toward him, eyes trained on the side of his face as he clears his throat again, reaching down to take a sip of the water bottle sitting in the cupholder between you two.

You nod with a small, under-your-breath ‘okay’, and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to begin.

“First, I hope he hasn’t scared you away from me and from the house. I’d be lost if you stopped coming by.” You shake your head vehemently, floored by the suggestion.

“No, never, Chucho. Nothing’s gonna keep me away. I’ll figure out how to deal with this.”

He nods somberly, fingers tapping on the large steering wheel. “Good. That’s good. Now… in the case of my son, I know he can be a lot for many reasons. He’s quite the stupid boy when he wants to be. But he’s been through the wringer since he was young. There’s a lot I’m sure he hasn’t told you, and it’s not my place to say, but just know that he comes to you with a lot of baggage. He’s misguided sometimes, and I can only set him so far in the right direction. He’s been lost for a long time.”

You blink back at him, not shocked by the news nearly as much as you think you should be. It makes sense, given his reaction to you today, and especially given the horrible things that came out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like your Javier.

“Now I know that I’m an old man, and it’s been a long time since I fell in love, but I can see when two people are right for each other. You two… you are right for each other. You’re good together, and you make each other better. I’ve seen it firsthand, especially these last few weeks. Javi is much more pleasant to be around these days.”

You smile at the compliment and lean over to squeeze his shoulder lightly in gratitude.

“Just… give him a chance. Please. I know he can be good for you, too, if he can just get his act together.”

You nod and sigh, shoulders dropping as you take in his words. “I want to. I want to so badly. But I’m afraid that I’m scaring him away, Chucho. I’m not what he wants… he doesn’t want someone this serious, this willing to move things along.”

“Ask him about it, mija. Make him talk to you. There’s so much there. You can help him, I know it. You’re only the second woman he’s ever brought home.” You’re shocked by that admission, to say the least. It was easy to tell that Javi was more into flings than serious relationships given his highly flirtatious personality, but in almost 40 years… only one other person? It surprises you, makes you start trying to rethink the experiences you’ve had with him so far, rethink every comment and frustration. You’re vaguely curious who that other person was, what happened with them.

“I’ll try, Chucho. He just makes it so difficult, sometimes.”

“I know. Believe me, I know he does. But he loves you - I can see it in the way his eyes light up when you arrive, and in the way he pines over you when you’re away. And you do, too. That’s something real - when you have it, don’t let it go. Fight for it. You’re lucky if you find something like that even once in your life.”

Is it really that obvious to Chucho?

You’re more than shocked - you’re amazed by the suggestion. Here you’ve been thinking the whole thing has been one-sided, all stuck on you and your overly ambitious heart.

“Then why does he make it so hard for me to be able to love him back? The right way? Why does he have to make it so difficult?”

Chucho sighs and shrugs, glancing over at you briefly. “That’s Javi’s story to tell, mija, but he’s a fool if he’s trying to write you off completely.”

You thump your head back against the bench seat, arms crossing over your chest. “I just don’t know how to make him see me. See any of this. It’s like he has blinders on or something.”

Chucho nods along and answers, “he does, mija. Installed by a host of events that I can’t disclose on his behalf. But he does have blinders on, absolutely. He’s not seeing straight, not thinking clearly. He’s running on fear and anxiety if anything.”

You’re shocked by that suggestion. “Fear? He’s afraid of me?”

“No, mija. He’s afraid of putting himself out there.” He pulls onto your street, finding a place to pull over next to the sidewalk in front of your apartment and putting the truck in park.

“I don’t think he’s going to listen to me, Chucho. He’s dead set on destroying things all on his own.” He sighs, turning and placing a hand gently on your thigh.

“Just give him a chance, mija. Please. I’m begging you. If anyone can do it, it’s you. Just give him another chance.” You nod back at him and offer him an uneasy smile.

“I will. If he’ll let me. I don’t know if he’s going to let me, though, Chucho.”

He looks at you very seriously at first, but then the serious look morphs quickly into a smirk. He winks at you. “Trust me on this one, if you can.”

You chuckle nervously but smile and respond before getting out of the car and heading up the stairs, back to your lonely apartment.

“Alright. I will.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: And here be the angst. I promise it doesn't linger for too long, but Javi's been through too much to just have things go easy the entire time! These two still have lots ahead of them!

Let me know what you think! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so so so very appreciated!

xoxoxo

Taglist: @amyispxnk @picketniffler @kirsteng42 @vee-bees-blog (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

NEXT PART (VIII) HERE

#writing #javi peña smut #javi peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #fanfic #javier peña smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #no beta we die like men

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aalyssah · 4 months

Text

Burned Mac & Cheese

Pairing: Brahms Heelshire x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1,648

Summary: You get stood up by Malcom, which causes you to stay in your room and cry yourself to sleep, but you're awake to the smell of burning food only for it to be Brahms attempting to make up the date for you.

A/N: Brahms trying to be a good boy by cooking for us, but burns the food :( Hope You Enjoy!

You felt humiliated.

Humiliated because you waited outside at the bus stop for 15 minutes before getting on the bus and riding to a restaurant that you had to walk to for 5 minutes, only to be stood up by your supposed date, Malcom.

When Malcom asked you out you were excited. From the moment he began helping you with groceries, you fell in love.

He was sweet, handsome, and an overall gentleman, but it was after he asked you out he started to become weird.

When you suggested going out somewhere while grocery shopping, he would always find an excuse. "Oh, I can't, my garage needs cleaning." Or, "I would love to, but I have to watch my neighbors' squirrels."

Excuse after excuse made you slowly give up on him, but when he asked you out, you immediately said yes.

Brahms watched as you got ready, wanting to say something, but he knew he couldn't stop you. He saw the way you looked at Malcom and even though jealousy and anger took over him, he stayed silent, wanting to be a good boy for you.

You came through the door, body soaked in water, hair ruined, as well your eye liner smeared down your face from obvious crying.

As you stepped through the door, Brahms came through the wall, concern laced in his face behind the mask. "Y/n?" His voice called out, but you ignored him.

You practically threw your phone on the coffee table in the living room and walked upstairs to your bedroom, slamming the door. Now Brahms was confused.

Why didn't you say anything? Why were your clothes ruined? Why did you just throw your phone like that? You love your phone!

Curiosity took over him as he peaked down at your phone that lit up from an upcoming message. He looked around the room, making sure you weren't coming, and picked it up. With no passcode on it, he opened it, and went to the messages with Malcom.

Y/n: I'm on the bus. :)

Malcom: Good, I'm close.

Y/n: Almost there, just walking.

Y/n: I'm here!

Y/n: Malcom?

Read at 2:43

Y/n: Hello? Are you here yet?

Brahms saw the dozens of messages you sent to Malcom that were all ignored.

Y/n: Did you get stuck in traffic or something?

Another ignored message. At that point you were spamming him, asking if he was coming or not and then it started raining.

So now here you were, standing outside a fancy restaurant, soaked in water, all alone, looking sad and pathetic. You ended up leaving, not caring if he was late or not.

Y/n: I'm leaving now. Why didn't you tell me you weren't gonna show up?

Malcom: I never wanted to go out with you. You're hot and all, but I felt bad for you, so I asked you out. Sorry.

That's when Brahms grew sad and angry. Sad because your feelings were obviously hurt, but angry at Malcom. Who does he think he is, playing with some girl, especially your emotions.

Brahms thought about you. How sad you looked walking in and thought of an idea. You were waiting for dinner tonight, so surely you didn't get anything to eat yet.

Brahms got up off the couch and ran into the kitchen. He used the tablet on the counter and searched up 'easy meals to cook for children.' The first thing that came up was mac & cheese.

Brahms got to work, looking at every cabinet for the elbow macaroni noodles. When he found them he grabbed a pot and filled it up with water before pouring the noodles in.

He sat there, watching the noodles form small bubbles in the pot. Boredom took over him watching the noodles barely boil.

He thought this would be easy and fast, but on the website it said to cook at low temperature, so Brahms being smart, he decided to crank up the temperature to the highest.

Bubbles began forming fast, a smile tugging to his lips. Okay, this is much faster. He thought. The sound of the TV in the living room caught his attention.

He walked away from the stove, standing in the living room, and looking at the TV. It was talking about a new upcoming show that Brahms seemed to be interested in.

He didn't even know he was watching a whole other show until he felt heat taking over the room. He turned around and saw the noodles on the stove. He ran to the stove and turned it off, the water bubbling down in the pot.

Where did all the water go? It looks like there’s barely any left. Is it supposed to look like that? He was sure it wasn't like that in the beginning when he put water in.

Oh well!

Brahms grabbed the cheese and a spoon and attempted to stir the noodles in the pot, but they were stuck. Brahms had to scrap the noodles off the pot in order to actually move them around.

He poured cheese, A LOT of cheese. He liked his mac & cheese very cheesy. He stirred the noodles, the only right thing he did.

Once the cheese was mixed in, he put the pot in the oven, turning the temperature to 450°. He went back to the living room, continuing to watch his show.

Time Skip 10 minutes

It's been 10 minutes since Brahms put that mac & cheese in the oven, and again, he forgot. The show he was watching was just so interesting, but the smoky smell of burning filled his nostrils.

Brahms went to the kitchen and opened the oven and god what did he do? There was black smoke everywhere, filling the kitchen, living room, bathroom, basically the whole downstairs floor of the house.

Brahms started coughing, fanning his face. Without oven mitts, he grabbed the pot, but dropped it when the burning feeling attacked his hands. A low whimper slipped past his lips as he looked down at his red turning hands.

With you upstairs, you were sound asleep in your bed, face stained of tears after crying for about 10 minutes.

You can't believe how stupid you are. Why in the world would you think Malcom would genuinely like someone like you?

You tossed and turned in your bed, changing the position when you breathed in. Instead of breathing in the scent of your cinnamon candle, you smelt burning. You shot up fast out the bed, looking around the room.

"What is that smell?" You asked yourself, going downstairs. As you got further down the stairs, the smell got stronger.

It was when you reached the living room that you saw Brahms hunched over the stove, smoke filling up the kitchen and living room. "Brahms, what are you doing?!" You didn't mean to sound angry, but the sudden shock had you yelling.

You rushed to his side, seeing what he was doing. In the pot was burnt mac & cheese, blacker than the color itself. "Brahms, what the hell are you doing in here?!" You jumped into action, opening up the window and turning on the stove fan.

As you were walking around the kitchen you looked at Brahms and saw both of his hands red and puffy. "Did you burn yourself?" Brahms slowly nodded his head, looking down with teary eyes. "Awe, baby, c'mere."

Brahms instantly walked over to you, holding both of his hands out. "It hurts." He cried, making your heart break. You gently grabbed his wrist, pulling him to the bathroom.

You turned the sink water onto lukewarm water. "Put your hand under here, and DON'T remove it. I'll be back soon." You left the room, going to search for a first aid kit.

After almost 20 minutes of Brahms's hand being under the water, and you cleaning up the mess he called 'mac & cheese', you went back to him with bandages, and Ibuprofen.

"I'm gonna wrap your hand, take these for me." You gave Brahms a cup of water before beginning to wrap his hand loosely. Brahms winced in pain at the feeling of the cloth pressing down on his now sensitive hand.

"I know, I know, it's almost over." You finished wrapping his hand with a sigh. "Done." You smiled. You cleaned up the bathroom and led you both to the living room, pushing him on the couch.

"What were you trying to do in the kitchen?" You finally asked him. Brahms avoided your eyes, looking down at his wrapped hands while answering. "I wanted to make you dinner since you got stood up by Malcom." His small voice said.

You looked confused for a second. How did he know that? You looked around the living room and saw your phone on the coffee table and then connected the dots. "Did you go through my phone?" You asked, sounding offended.

Brahms admittedly nodded his head, not wanting to lie to you. You let out a sigh, not knowing what to say. "I know I should be mad at you, but I just can't." You sighed out.

"Well I'm okay right now. I don't even know why I wanted him. I'm so stupid." You muttered. Brahms frowned at how you started talking so low on yourself. You were so much more than that! "No! Malcom is a stupid man!" Brahms's sudden outburst shocked you both.

Your expression then changed into a smile. "Yeah? Are you hungry? We can actually make real mac & cheese for dinner." Brahms laughed behind the mask, nodding his head.

"I'll teach you, let's go." You and Brahms went to the kitchen and step by step, you taught him how to make it.

You both had a good time, and even though Brahms burned his mac & cheese, it was much better than being with that bum of a man Malcom.

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire fluff #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire fanfiction #brahms heelshire the boy #slasher fluff #slasher smut

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laylawatermelon · 11 days

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Buddie Episode ficlet season 8

Pulling from all theories floating

(i just wanted to write a fic🤗)

So let me set the scene, season 7 finale, Buck of course gets a really bad sprain after a rescue. He's staying with Eddie because duh, of course he is after his apartment rent went up (or burned down, flooded whichever flavor of whump they live to give him).

So episode 1 begins like this.

We're at The Diaz family house early in the morning.

Chris' alarm rings and he slams it off turning to go back to sleep. Eddie pushes the door open as he passes.

"Wake up Chris." He says dryly wiping his face.

We hear the sizzling of food and Eddie walks into the kitchen sniffing dramatically. He grabs orange juice and milk out of the fridge.

"Smells great, what is that pancakes?"

Buck turns beaming at him, towel on his shoulder, "Yeah Chris mentioned it last night so I made it today."

Eddie rests the stuff down patting him on the shoulder, "You know you don't have to do that." He slides past him getting the plates out of the cupboards, "But you know I'd never deny your food."

He rests the plates on the dining table depending as he checks the clock.

"Hey Chris! You up?"

Buck turns off the stove walking to his room, "I'll check up on him."

Eddie glances at his for, "You sure your leg okay?"

"It's perfect!"

Buck knocks on the door gently as Chris friends in annoyance. Buck laughed walking over, "Gotta get up buddy."

He pulls the sheet off of him and Chris whines. "Buck!"

Buck just laughs and walks out, "I made pancakes but if you're late you're gonna have to eat em cold in the car!"

He hears Chris' walking behind him and grins.

Chris eventually comes to breakfast and they chat while eating.

Chris talks about his upcoming tests and things he plans to do in that day, Eddie talks about his past shift and how he wishes he could be on the shift with him and Buck just staring at them with love and fondness.

Eddie catches his eyes and just grins reminding him to eat.

Then they're leaving, Chris rushing to the car after his girlfriend messaged him.

Buck stands at the door holding it open for Eddie.

Eddie hurriedly puts his water bottle and some snacks in his bag as he's rushing to the door. "We're gonna be late traffic is gonna be a killer."

Buck sighed as he waved to Chris who was impatiently waiting by the car door.

"You'll be fine Eddie, just take a couple side and back roads."

Eddie rolled his eyes as he walked past him, "Yeah me and the rest of Los Angeles will do that."

Then he leans over pressing a quick kiss on his lips. "See you after work Evan."

Buck nods as Eddie jogs off closing the door robotically.

Eddie freezes as he reaches his side of the car realizing what he just did. His head whips back to the closed door.

"Wait-"

"Come on Dad I'm gonna be late! My teacher's going to mark me down again."

Eddie nods eyes still transfixed on the door as he gets in.

"Yeah yeah. Okay."

Behind the door Buck is staring into space before sliding down the door in shock touching his lips.

He blinks away his shock and pulls out of the yard.

----------

Hen notices something's wrong instantly. Chim does as well but he's not in the gossip mood yet.

He assumes he'll be after he had breakfast so instead of bothering a dazed Eddie he jogs up to the second floor for breakfast.

Hen crosses her arms watching the dazed man pass her and follow him into the locker room.

Eddie absent-mindedly changes and she sits on a bench looking out at the trucks.

"So what's up today?"

Eddie closes his locker turning to her, "I don't know. I actually have no idea. I just did it. It felt natural."

He walked out still dazed as a confused look dawns on her face.

"Did what?"

Her phone rings and checks it frowning at the caller.

"Buck?"

She picks up and Buck is absolutely distressed on the other side.

"I dunno what to do it just happened! It was so natural. Kind of weird how natural it was though. Shouldn't there be some sort of fanfare?"

Hen stand up, "Slow down Buck I have no idea what's going on. Now what happened?"

"Eddie kissed me as he left this morning."

"He WHAT?!"

She looked up at Eddie who was climbing to the second floor waving at the others.

"Give me a minute."

"Yeah, I dunno what to do. He was like see you later Evan. Bam! Kiss. Gone."

The she goes to and confronts Eddie and Chim latches into the gossip that's being told in the locker room.

(i feel like this could be something but i dunno i just wanted to write🤷🏾‍♀️)

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #tv shows #buckley diaz family #mini fic #911 speculation #ficlet #lgbtqia #bi disaster buck #eddie i will free you #trust #christopher diaz #henrietta wilson #chimney han

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goldenlevi · 1 year

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note: ok, so i posted it here properly. if you prefer to read it on ao3 here other works: here / i hope you enjoy, happy new year everyone

A loud sound in the distance woke you up.

Unsure of what it was exactly, as you were still groggy with sleep, a yawn escaped your lips while your arms stretched in front of you. For a moment, you thought you were back at your apartment and not in a public library.

Right.

You should be studying, not sleeping. The fault wasn’t entirely yours though. The previous day, you were stuck inside the Hospital following your mentor for the next six months which forced you to spend the night studying for an upcoming exam that was draining you. That’s how you end up in the library today next to Chishiya.

He was supposed to be helping you, and vice versa, not letting you fall asleep on top of dusty books. You looked down, as a frown took over your face. Why the fuck are they dusty? And where the hell was he? Your head turned in search for the blond. It only took a couple of seconds to notice that the setting was not exactly right.

It was the same familiar library, sure, one that you’ve set foot in many times. The same one in which you even met Chishiya in. But in spite of that, uneasiness was all you felt.

Too quiet, you thought. No traffic sounds were heard, no sighs from tired students nor any fingers pressing on keyboards in a hurry. Your legs moved before you could tell them to and practically jogged to the nearest windows. Just as you thought…empty streets. That is impossible, a voice inside your head argued. Shibuya doesn’t equal to empty streets nor any form of quiet. In fact, it was the exact opposite.

This had to be some type of illusion… a dream! yeah! You were still dreaming, it’s not like you were a stranger to lucid dreams and it would explain why you’re all alone. Well done, you pat yourself in the back.

“I know what you’re thinking; it’s not a dream” Your boyfriend’s voice rang through the room, another reminder of the silence. He cuts your train of thought off utterly unbothered. “There’s no one here” He says, beginning to walk over in your direction.

You turned your back to the windows, following his voice. You click your tongue, “That’s exactly what dream you would say. Even in my head you argue with me” He rolls his eyes upon hearing the answer your brain decides to come up with. Yet, until this day they still held a slightly less harsh stare as soon as he takes you in. His little smirk however, doesn’t flatter.

“Hmm” Your eyes barely have time to register his fingers as they quickly flick your forehead. Once and then again.

“Ouch! You asshole” You slap his hand away, rubbing your forehead. “Ok, fine I see your point”

🃏🃏🃏

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, not quite knowing what to make of it. Where were you? Both of you walked through the streets, ultimately deciding to go to your apartment since it was closer.

Everything felt…off. “What is this place?” Even then, your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. It was truly like you had been sucked out of your own reality and placed in a mirrored version of your world.

“Tokyo”

You rolled your eyes. Idiot.

“I'm serious. It may look like it but it doesn’t seem like we’re there anymore” Each time your eyes picked on something new, more and more questions followed.

“Dorothy~ I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore” he said playfully in your ear. Knowing that he was trying to make you feel more relaxed about the situation you both found yourselves in; you couldn’t help but smile. Chishiya was always playful, at least to you. Others generally seemed not being able to get past the arrogance and coldness. It wasn’t that they were making an incorrect assumption, only a superficial one.

“How long do you think has it been?” He asked while taking a look around the familiar place you used to call home.

“At least a month, I'm sure of it. I don’t know how though...this feeling of uncertainty — I don’t like it” You then noticed a few items that were out of place. “Someone’s been here” Your voice slightly raised as slow burning agitation filled your body.

The feeling of invasion of privacy was a foreign one. One you didn't know how to deal with just yet. People have been inside your house - messing with your things who knows what they could have taken? What could they have seen?

From the library to your apartment, if you could still call it that, you didn’t hear a sound. However, he pointed out stores that had been broken into, cars left in the middle of the street and so on..

If there’s really people out there, being able to enter anywhere and everywhere, if there’s no one to stop them…then…what else could they been doing?

That same night, while walking aimlessly through familiar streets that no longer held any attachment, you both spot bright lights coming out of a building. At the same time, your bodies turned to each other and spoke without words.

In less than a mere five minutes, those same bright lights stared at you seemingly mocking you. Curiosity filled you from the moment you had woken up and now you suspect some of it was going to be satisfied.

One hour later you found yourself staring at the same piece of paper together.

A small one with a bold title of ‘VISA’ right in the center of it. Immigration status Certificate.

What the- Better yet how did these people know your names, and how did they just decide to attribute points to the game you had just played.

“Valid until Monday. Hm, I wonder what fate awaits if a person lets it expire” He mused. His eyes glanced at you in anticipation.

“We just played a game where four people died just because they made the wrong choice. What do you think happens?” You asked rhetorically, arching your eyebrows.

“Ah yes. I just wanted to hear you say that you’ll continue playing” He shrugged, crushing the paper, letting it fall on the floor.

A teenager that survived alongside you both, shared all the information they knew. Apparently, this place was called Boderland. The amount of people who were actively there participating in the games was unknown.

The black haired teenager looked at the two of you as if they were waiting for a new answer.

“All of us saw fireworks before we got here. Did-did you guys see them too?” You almost felt bad at how their voice shook, clearly longing for new information that could help figure out this surely long puzzle.

They confirmed that in order to survive, everyone was forced to play the games. But, you could also die in them. You weren't certain how long they had been there. The only certainty you had so far was that not many people would view the challenges as you and Chishiya did.

You shook your head with a small smile. “Did you?” They asked Chishiya. He stared at them before answering, contemplating if he should answer truthfully or not. He concluded they seemed harmless and so he said, “I heard them at first, then saw them through the windows” He explained no further.

In addition, you also learned that the games take place each evening and it could happen anywhere. Each game had their own set of rules, making them highly unpredictable. The one thing they had in common was the fact the symbols had a meaning and you could gain information if you paid enough attention.

“Clubs are team based games, you can generally win them with teamwork. Spades: Mostly physical as they test your endurance” They paused. “Diamonds, well, those are made for testing intelligence, and problem-solving skills. The hardest one is Hearts. Hearts have no limits,they test everything, attack you physiologically and easily manipulate you”

“Sounds fun” You hear him say under his breath, resulting in you discreetly lightly pinching his side. Last thing you need is the only person kind enough to give you any type of explanation to think you’re nuts.

After that first game, they decided not to play the second one together. It would be risky since you wouldn’t have the means to know what type of game it would be beforehand. If they had to let lives end in exchange of their own, then there’s no reason why they should complicate it even further.

🎲🎲

Sunday Evening

You had just cleared a game.

The wind hit your hair as you ran, your feet moved one after the other without guidance, as the adrenaline remained in your veins being pumped through your blood stream.

Suddenly your eyes became hyper aware of the surroundings and you found yourself exactly in the spot you previously had agreed to meet Chishiya.

There he was, leaning on the empty store’s front wearing a blank expression as he often did. His eyes were dark as night, observing everything that moved.

You stopped beside him; leaning backwards allowing your head to hit the wall while a breathy laugh escaped your lips. “Fuck” you swore nearly panting. “Can you believe this? This is incredible. Whoever designed this, got a lot of inspiration from Saw”

“Saw?” He repeated, arching an eyebrow. You nodded, smiling wide just for him.

Chishiya turned his head towards you, searching for any possible injuries. Only after making sure you were physically unharmed, did relief fill him. Even now, it still felt like a strange feeling for the blond.

He then chuckled shaking his head in disbelief, “When the game ended, I was scared of one thing,” he placed one hand on his girlfriend’s cheek pulling you towards him. His mouth ghosted yours, teasing you as it always does. “that you wouldn’t find this as much fun as I did”

He pressed his lips against yours, speaking through a simple kiss. A pressing kiss, which screamed euphoria. He was happy that, once again, you found mutual pleasure.

Chishiya wouldn’t say it, nevertheless it wouldn’t be untrue, but he couldn’t bear to lose you. So, he spoke through his mouth right on yours grabbing you by the waist while biting your bottom lip teasingly. He decided that if he made all the right decisions he could have it all. And he would make sure of it.

Your hands met his neck touching him possessively. With nails grazing his skin, you deepened the kiss. Your tongue met his slowly wanting to taste him all of him.

Kissing him always felt too good. But something in the adrenaline and in the strange land made it feel fucking fantastic.

A week ago you were studying for an exam, today you had just fought for your life in a place where nothing matters. You decided right there and then you would rather live through a hundred todays especially if by the end of it, you got to have a kiss like that.

Their hearts pounded memories of the game they had just played behind their eyelids.His knuckles tightened around her clothes. And he kissed her like he wanted to scream he felt free.

Unprecedentedly, he was free.

#my writing #mine #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #alice in boderland fics #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya x reader #chishiya imagine #chishiya fic #aib chishiya #chishiya fanfic

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jumengz · 1 year

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i hate you. ;kim sunwoo>

heartaches; every single pain you had went through for a whole two years for a stupid boy, hated him with your life but you knew that was because you were madly in love with him it was crazy. kim sunwoo to you was a heartbreaker but both of you never knew why the beautiful relationship had to end, until through the messy crowds fate was met again...

enjoy this playlist based for<ihy>~

starting afresh.. it was a weird feeling for you it had been quite sometime since you actually wanted to start new and get your life together ever since you had been slumping and crying in bed for a dumb boy that broke your heart in high school; kim sunwoo. that misty feeling of the breeze from outside tapped you soft cheeks you missed this. you had plan on going to a cafe and get work done, walking there felt so amazing, free and alive, you really missed that.

soon enough it was already dark and the cafe was about to close, its amazing how much work u got done outside, must have been the coffee you thought as you packed up holding sheets of paper in your hands for your upcoming test. you walked home, it was already 11pm so fast.. the traffic had turned green u ran across as u didn't want to wait for the next one, suddenly u bumped into someone tall figured, red haired, wearing a comfy black hoodie, familiar smell of strawberries and alcohol, you laid on the floor, papers scattered all over the floor then as the tall silhouette came closer, a pair of hands stretched to help you pick up your papers. you quickly took up the remaining stacks and gave him a slight bow, as you raised your head a familiar eyes flashed across you but you had already walked past him, then a hand pulled you back, you flipped back, that's when your eyes met again ; it was him the only boy you had been weeping about the boy who caused so much pain towards you, there was no way. two years, you stood there staring in to his chocolate pearl eyes, still the same. "how are you..?" was the only words that came out of the olders mouth still holding on to your wrist, "sunwoo.." you murmured as you felt wet warm tears formed under your eyes, i waited two years for him , out of everyday, you chose to appear today.

"why are you here, pls leave" you said these words out of your heart with tears dripping single handedly, you dare not meet his eyes as you slowly tucked away his hands from yours but he reached out for your face as he wiped away your tears slowly tucking you hair behind your ears "please don't cry it hurts me more to see you like this, im sorry" you couldn't control it anymore you frowned then burst out crying while covering your face it was an emotion you had to pent out for two whole years "where were you? you cant aways have things your way you know! i waited two years but you never came i don't even know what had happen? and you just disappeared!!i hate you." sunwoo had no words, he just hugged you tightly caressing your hair slowly "I'm so sorry, i really am," was what he kept repeating over and over. he stood up holding on to you as he led you to a nearby bench.

the air was quiet everything was silent as you sniffled it had been awfully quiet for the pass few minutes sunwoo had unfolded to why he had disappeared from you, saying he wasnt good enough for you saying he felt that you guys would never work, it was all things you never thought about before, he definitely overthought it you thought. "i missed you alot" he said as he held onto your hands, the physical affection felt the same nothing changed, you looked up into his eyes, you hugged him "please stay with me woo" you said, sunwoo just stopped the hug and placed a soft peck on you forehead "i swear ill never leave again baby" the warmth bloomed inside the two of you it was so pretty. i love you kim sunwoo.

#kim sunwoo #the boyz #tbz #tbz au #the boyz au #the boyz imagines #kim sunwoo fluff #Spotify

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animeloverskylarmoon · 8 months

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Gojo Satoru (Jujutsu Kaisen) - Oneshot

The discovery of Geto's betrayal was a tough pill to swallow.

Nothing had been the same.

Not after Riko's death.

Life felt like a means to an end. Had he been stronger back then, maybe the end would have been different. That's why he trained students. Megumi, Itadori and Nobara were extraordinary. But the fear that he would not be able to stop the upcoming war never left. He was untouchable. But could he truly bring himself to kill Geto if it came down to that?

"What a messy situation."

His eyes drifted to the night sky as he stood at the top of the hill.

There were times where he wondered if life was truly worth fighting. The end product was all the same.

Death.

Gojo turned his back, moving to head back to the school. His gaze strayed for a second when he spotted a figure standing in the middle of the road.

Not a very smart decision considering there's a steady stream of traffic on that street. He intended to call out and warn them. Maybe they were lost and unaccustomed to the area. Yet, when he opened his mouth, there was a look of defeat in their eyes. His body moved almost on instinct when a car was rushing in their direction and they made no move to evade.

The moment his feet landed out of the general path of danger, the woman he now held gasped in shock. Possibly from the save and display of his power. Her eyes held uncertainty.

"W-Who are you.."

He grinned.

"That's not important. Now that I just saved your life, you owe me."

You blanked.

"W-WHAT!! That's not how it works!! W-Who even said I needed saving!"

"Eh, you didn't?

"N-No!!" You jumped out of his grasp, waving your hands around.

"I-I just got distracted. I was going to move before the car came!!"

He could see the defiance, and he held back a sad smile. He understood fully what you'd intended to do. But he wouldn't call you out.

"Nevertheless, you owe me. You have to treat me to ramen tomorrow down the road. It's the first shop that you see. You can't miss it. Don't stand me up or I'll find you."

"IS THAT A THREAT!!"

He sent another smile.

"It's a promise."

You weren't afforded a chance to say much, he was gone in a blink.

It was stupid, you didn't have to listen to him. There was no way he would find you. But somehow you found yourself seated in the ramen shop the next day.

Waiting.

The steps that echoed behind you made your head turn, and he waved.

"Yo!"

You frown.

"It must be nice to act casual when you blackmail people."

"It is."

"Don't agree with me!!"

A woman approached, setting down Gojo's bowl with a smile and you grumbled as you picked up your chopsticks to dig into your meal.

You both sat in silence, nothing but the slurping of your noodles.

When you were done, you clapped your hands together, sighing in thanks.

Your hands slid in your pocket to pay for both bowls.

"Now we're even. "

Gojo placed his own chopsticks down.

"I don't recall agreeing to that." He responded casually.

Another long sigh.

"What's with you? Why can't you just leave me be."

Your eyes dropped to the empty bowl, and Gojo reached over, placing a hand on your head.

"Because I found you, so now you're my responsibility. "

"You say that like I'm a pet."

"You are a pet. Like a bunny."

"I'm a person."

"A cute bunny person?"

He inquired with a tilt of his head.

You didn't respond, standing from your seat as you walked off. Satoru followed you out.

As you continued to walk up to your house, you could hear his steps behind.

"Are you going to keep following me?"

"Are you going to try again?"

You didn't need him to elaborate. You had a feeling that he figured out your intentions that day.

You stopped.

"What's the point of existing in such a corrupted world? Nothing is getting better. I thought it would, but it hasn't. I was supposed to fix it. But I don't know how I'm supposed to do that."

He didn't know what personal battles you were facing, but he could relate to the helpless feeling.

"We're the same."

Gojo moved to your side. You expect some false sense of comfort, but his expression looks just as troubled as your own.

"This world isn't perfect, but there are people here that we care for. That we still want to protect. That should be reason enough."

He looked so earnest. His belief is somewhat extraordinary. You've seen just a piece of what he's capable of. If he held power and still faced struggles, then maybe all wasn't lost entirely.

"He might be just what I need.."

"What's your name?" You ask.

"Gojo Satoru!" He saluted, and you found yourself smiling.

"Nice to meet you Gojo-san, I'm (Y/N)."

It was weird how easily the both of you had become friends.

That small moment created a bond. It wasn't like his problems magically vanished. Yet, whenever he had a moment to himself, he found his way back on that hill, sitting with you in your home. Sometimes nothing would be said. He'd find you when the sun went down and you would both stare at the sky. It was the only time that there was truly peace in either of your lives.

Other times you'd ask him questions about his life, his powers.

"You must be really strong Gojo-san."

"I'm the strongest."

You laugh.

"How can you be the strongest? There must be someone stronger than you. Your power came from somewhere didn't it?"

He paused for a second.

"I suppose you are right. I never thought of it that way."

"I guess that makes me the smartest."

"Second smartest." He teased.

You giggled, scooting closer.

"How come your hair is so white? Did you dye it or is that natural?"

"All natural of course."

"How do you get it to stick up like that?"

"The band." He pointed.

"Why cover your eyes, are they scary?"

You seem to have a question for everything and he laughs, himself.

"I wouldn't say scary. Would you like to see?"

You nod eagerly.

He slipped his hand under the black band, sliding it off and you marvel at the color. You'd never seen eyes that blue before. It's almost unnatural.

"Wow..they're beautiful.."

He expects the reaction, seeing it many times. His eyes held power, and that's what most people saw. It's been a while since anyone has been impressed with just what they can see from the outside. Rather than the conflict on the inside. His encounters with normal people have greatly depleted since Riko's death.

This brings just an inkling of comfort.

"Thank you." He says softly.

You grin.

"You're welcome."

As time goes on, he wonders if it's right to continue to entertain this.

If his enemies were to find out of his newfound interest in you, he has no doubt that you would become a target. He shouldn't become attached. At any moment you could be gone. He's learned to accept that he won't be able to save everyone. No matter how hard he tried.

"You're acting weird."

He blinked.

It's become a habit for him to remove his band around you.

He has nothing to hide.

Not from you.

"Am I?"

"Hai. You're more quiet than usual. Is everything okay?"

How does he answer that question? He could give you a comforting lie. But what would that get him? His fears somehow always manifest.

"It's not. But I'm hoping that they will get better."

You smile.

"I hope so too Gojo-san."

There's no reassurance that you can give, so you offer support and he appreciates it.

"How have you been? I haven't had a chance to visit as often."

"You're a superhero, I don't expect you to come racing. I'll be fine." You lift your arm, flexing and he laughs.

"I wouldn't say I'm a hero."

"You protect people with your power don't you?"

Of course he tried to. But that was his duty. It wasn't so much that he had too, but it just felt right too. What use was having these abilities if he couldn't protect.

"I guess I do."

"Yep, you do. You protected me. You're a hero."

He appreciates the compliment.

Every once in a while, it was nice to hear such earnest praises.

The following night he catches you at the front of your house, just sitting on the porch. His steps slow, and when you notice him, you send a weak smile. He's not sure how, but it's as if you know the war that he's facing is closing in. So these visits would be far and few between.

He takes a seat next to you. You lean your head on his shoulder.

"If you could have one wish, what would it be Gojo-san?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one."

He looked as though he was truly considering the question. Looking out at the many stars littered in the sky, a soft expression settled on his face.

"I would like to live in a world without evil with all of the people I care about."

Your eyes shifted, and his blue eyes glimmered under the dim light.

"That's what I would wish for."

You directed your focus back to the sky, nodding.

"I see."

It felt so easy to confess such an unreachable goal.

"Can I come too?"

It's a soft request that you make, and his hand moves slowly, placing it lightly over your own. He's been hesitant for a while now.

But the touch, it feels right.

"I'd like it if you were there (Y/N)."

You grin.

"I promise I'll fulfill that wish Satoru."

He turned, and you just wore a bright smile. At the back of his mind he knew it was impossible. You were as harmful as a bunny. Yet something about your expression made him believe that it could be obtained.

"Is this..hope.."

He long forgotten what it felt like. It was strange. But he felt himself wearing a similar smile as he nodded.

Silence settled for the remainder of the night as you both just enjoyed the moment of ease.

The very next day, Gojo was called into Jujutsu High.

He felt as though he expected disaster that day.

There was just something in the air that told him that chaos was coming. While he greeted the students from both schools there was a rumble outside. Nanami drew his weapon out of instinct as they all made it outside to view what catastrophe lay ahead, the individuals before them were unexpected.

"Satoru."

Geto stood with his accomplices. Nanami, Mahito and Jogo.

The students lined up. Megumi's fists were raised, Nobara held her hammer, Itadori braced for the inevitable fight that would follow. One by one, each of the students stepped out of the doors. Inumaki and Panda. Maki and Todo. Kamo, Mai and Miwa.

Principal Yaga moved to the frontlines.

"So you've finally decided to declare war." He questioned.

Geto waved his hand uninterested.

"Was there any doubt that we would come?"

Yaga couldn't deny that they expected it.

Just not this soon.

Gojo understood what was about to take place. He'd prepared for it. Even though Geto smiled, he knew it was a mask. Neither of them wanted this. Geto could have easily struck from the shadows, picking them off one by one like the way the others had tried. But he'd come himself this time to make his declaration. Maybe that was it.

The last piece of kindness he offered as a former classmate and friend.

Gojo removed his mask, blue eyes sullen.

His fist clenched, and Geto removed his hands from his robes the very moment that another body appeared.

A pair of sneakers touched the dirt right at the center of both sides and everyone seemed to pause in shock and interest.

"Who is that?"

Megumi questioned, moving closer to Gojo. Nanami adjusted his glasses, and Gojo could only stare.

"(Y/N).."

He didn't understand, it didn't make sense. It was obvious from the uncertain looks of Geto that you weren't an associate of him.

"Is this some kind of trick!!" Jogo fired angrily.

He rushed forward, the same way he'd done in the past. Gojo prepared to intercept. Ready to save you from the upcoming attack. You could see the obvious panic on his face. But you merely smiled, and Jogo's feet were pinned in place. His eye rolled back and his hands dropped at his side. Geto's gaze hardened and no one else made a move.

Gojo had already made it to your side, just as stunned.

"You told me that you wanted a world without evil and pain, is that still what you wish for?"

Gojo was a bit speechless. When he made the statement, it was a selfish musing. But standing next to you, he could almost touch the power that your body was giving off. It made him question his existence. How little he must be capable of not having felt this energy all the other times that you met.

"Is that what you want Satoru?" It was a soft whisper, and he nodded, a single tear streaming down his cheek.

"That's all I want. " He confirmed.

You lifted your hand, wiping the tear from his cheek.

"Then, your wish is my command."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth that washed over his body.

"Senpai!! Quit dozing off!!"

"Hai, hai!"

Riko tugged his arm, pulling him along and Geto smiled from their side.

"Do you think we'll be scolded by Principal Yaga again?" Geto nodded at the question.

"Definitely."

Gojo smiled, slowing his step when they made it to an intersection on the street.

A trail of younger kids followed, and he couldn't help but feel relief as he looked at the children being led by the teacher.

"Utahime-sensei, isn't that your friend?" The young girl asked.

Utahime's gaze turned in Gojo's direction, and she huffed as he waved happily.

"Keep walking kids, we don't talk to strangers."

"Hey, that's a bit cruel!! Utahime-sensei!!"

She ignored him the entire strip down and Riko laughed.

"You should stop messing with her senpai."

He just grinned as they continued on their way to school. Bodies whizzed by, his mind drifted as Geto and Riko conversed back and forth.

They'd met up with Shoko along the way who waved, sucking on her strawberry pop. As they got closer to the school, Riko increased her pace claiming that they would get a punishment for constantly making it on the edge of time. Gojo's shoulder connected with someone when he tried to match pace and the individual stumbled. A book fell, and he kneeled.

"Ah, gomen." He picked up the book, lifting his head.

The second his eyes connected, he froze in place.

You thanked him, bowing your head as you took the book and moved to the side, walking away.

"W-Wait!"

He turned to follow, but you were gone. All he could see were the many students bustling to get to the entrance.

"Senpai, hurry up!!"

The call pulled his focus, and he laughed under his breath.

"Thank you for everything, (Y/N)."

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