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oreosmama · 2 years

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Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: nothin’ much to say, except I like writing with an accent for Atsumu. That shit’s bomb. Enjoy!

Word count: 2339

Tetsurou Kuroo:

“Hey YN,”

He starts off so strong. His voice has that ever present lilt in it, like he’s trying to bait you closer.

“I-” he breaks off into a breathless, short laugh, “-I’m not really sure why I called… I guess I was hoping to catch you before I went to practice but…”

He swallows, and you can almost imagine him rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess I missed you. I mean–not like that.” He sputters. “Not that I don’t miss you! I do! I-”

Kuroo pauses, a bitter chuckle traveling through the phone. “God, I’m a fucking wreck. Did you know that? I’m a fucking trainwreck after us, and I can’t even pinpoint why.”

There’s shuffles in the background before the phone thumps, and Kuroo’s voice is distant but still audible. You figure he’s put you on speaker for whatever reason while finding a seat somewhere. He huffs as he settles in.

“Sometimes I think it’s because of the way we ended things.” He sighs, tone growing thick like his throat is stuck with something. “I yelled at you, so loudly, and I’ll never forget that look on your face when you left. I relive it every night, you know that? Asking myself what I could have done better and whatnot.” A loud hiss, like he’s sucking on his bottom lip harshly. “What I could have said or done to make you stay.”

“And then it’s not even the breakup that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s those moments we used to have, those goddamn memories I’ve got seared in the back of my brain that I have to repress when someone even spins a goddamn pencil like you did.”

Another thump, and suddenly his voice is much louder than before, the phone pressed back against his ear. “That pillow, you know the one that’s got your perfume all fucking over it. I tried to throw it away yesterday.” He scoffs. “And that failed. So I woke up fucking cuddling it this morning, as if I didn’t already feel like a loser.”

“And I know you still have my sweatshirt,” he inhales then exhales deeply. “I don’t want it back. I can’t–please don’t give it back, I don’t want it. Consider it yours, or whatever. Maybe you’ve already gotten rid of it, I don’t know.” So wobbly. His voice has slowly grown shaky over the last few seconds. “Whatever.”

A long pause drags out for at least a minute, and the only thing that stops you from checking if he’s still on call is the short breaths that are barely audible.

“Just,” he finally breaks the silence, voice cracking. “Please, I gotta know. For my sanity, please, do you miss me?... Miss us?”

“‘Cause God YN I miss every second of us.”

“One of the guys yesterday asked me what happened between us. I don’t even know why, I just got so mad so quick I wanted to sock him in the face for even bringing you up.” A quiet slap against his skin, like he’s brought up his hand to run it down his face. “I just… I had spent all day trying to keep you out of my head. I saw you in the halls that morning, but I know you didn’t see me–you had your head down reading that fucking book you love so much–and for the rest of the goddamn day I tried to keep you out of my head. And then he brought you up, and I just… God, I don’t even know, I just fucking lost it.”

“The coach sent me home after that, said I needed to clear my head. Not that it worked, ‘cause look where I am now.” He released a self-deprecating laugh.

“Sitting on the damned school steps all over again, crying like an idiot for who knows how long.”

A voice, distant and hesitant, calls out to him. “Kuroo.” It’s Kenma.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming, just give me a sec.” But he’s quiet all over again, maybe deep in thought.

But then you hear a ruffling of clothes and a small sniff. Kuroo clears his throat. “I-I have to go. I’ll… just–call me back. Please. I wanna hear your voice, I-... I miss your voice.”

Silence.

“I miss you.”

“I love you.”

Then he hangs up.

Wakatoshi Ushijima:

“YN.” As usual, his tone is deadpan and succinct. If he’s calling you, there’s a reason for it.

“You’ve left some clothing at my house. Please let me know when you have time to pick it up. I’ll have it prepared for you.”

“There are also the gifts you’ve given me there as well. I don’t know if you want those back or not, so please let me know before your arrival so I can get those packed up as well.”

“Regarding the gifts I’ve given you, you can keep them. I will not be needing them back.”

“If... if you have the time, I would also like to talk to you. I feel we have some things to discuss regarding our breakup.” The line falls silent, but when you pull the phone back, the voicemail still says it has five minutes left.

“I do not like the way we ended things,” he speaks up after a minute has passed. “It was… you’re wrong. You were wrong.”

“You said I didn’t care about you, but you’re wrong. I do. You said I never think about you, never spare you any thoughts, but you’re wrong.”

“The truth is, I hate how distracting you are. I find it hard to focus on practice now. In games, I feel myself losing my edge. You’re always just there. My mind is always on you. So much that I don’t know how to stop it.”

“So when you said I never cared about you… I was frustrated at how wrong you were.” A scraping is heard, dull and barely audible. He’s gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw in what you’ve always recognized as a hint of his growing irritation.

“How you can take over my mind and still say that I don’t ever spare you a minute of my time, it angers me. You’ve taken so much away from me, and then you go and say that I haven’t given you enough…”

“It’s not fair. I don’t accept it.”

“Tell me, YN. Have I taken over your thoughts the way you’ve taken over mine? Do I have you as wrapped around my finger as you do me?”

“Or have I just become one of those lovesick fools I’ve always despised, chasing after something they can never have?”

“I deserve to know, YN. You owe me that much.” There’s such certainty in his tone. It’s impossible to think of his words as anything else other than absolute truth. Speaking through your phone was a man not only desperately heartbroken, but also completely, utterly confused. To draw such an emotion out of a man like Ushijima…

“Tomorrow, before school, I will find you.” His words held no threat, softly spoken so as to only sound like a promise. “I want you to be honest with me tomorrow, so I can have some semblance of closure.”

Once more he’s gone silent, as if waiting for your response. Every breath he takes now comes out as a huff more than an exhale. He’s so wound up by now you’re almost positive this attitude will drag on until your conversation tomorrow.

“It’s what I deserve, YN. You can’t take away from me the one thing my mind has run on for months now and expect me not to want answers.” There’s a squeal of a chair against tile flooring, and a beat later you hear the rustling of clothes as he takes a seat.

“What more you want from me, I’m not quite sure. Yet, somehow, I still feel myself yearning to give it to you.”

“Tell me, YN, is that fair? You’ve taken yourself out of my life, and I still feel as though I’d do anything for you. Give anything for you.”

“At the very least, I must know if my actions were not in vain; if you feel my absence even a little bit in comparison to the hole you’ve left in me.”

“Did you really love me? You said it before you left that night, but if you did, then I don’t understand why you left. I need you to enlighten me, YN. I just don’t understand.”

A pause. “Goodbye, YN. I look forward to our talk tomorrow.”

Atsumu Miya:

“YNNN!” The shout of your name is so loud you yank the phone away from your ear in shock.

Hesitantly, you draw it closer when everything quiets down again.

“Oh God, someone grab his phone!”

“Atsumu, hand it over now!”

“He’s calling her, isn’t he? Dumbass.”

However remote, you can still hear the groans of your ex’s teammates along with the dull thumping and buzzing of far-off music. You figure he had been at a friend’s house or maybe even a club, and he’d probably locked himself up somewhere like the bathroom with his phone in tow.

There’s a slam, then a click followed by the muffled shouts of the voices you’d heard earlier. Then a gulp as Atsumu downs the rest of whatever alcoholic drink he somehow got his hands on before calling you.

“YN, how dare you!” Accusatory, and extremely slurred. He’s drunk off his ass, and his accent is so thick you struggle a bit to understand him. “Yer such a meanie for breakin’ my heart like that, darlin’!”

“All I ever wanted was to love you an’ give you the world; why’d ya hafta go an’ take it all away from me?”

Another gulp, and now he’s sniffling. “I just… I just don’t know why you did it. It was gonna be us two forever, darlin’. You said you’d never leave me. Why did ya have to…?”

“I know it’s hard for you to be alone for all that time, darlin’, an’ I ain’t gonna act like I never saw how you felt. But you said you could do it–you promised that ya'd do it for me.”

“What happened to all those promises? You said you loved me so many times, and now every time I think about you sayin’ those words, it hurts so bad. I know I’m gonna regret this later, I ain’t stupid, but I want you ta know that I’m broken now, darlin’, and it’s because a’ you.”

“The nights are so unbearable, YN. I can’t stand ‘em. You wouldn’t believe how cold that bed is without you in it. And yer fuckin’ pillow–goddamnit that thing–so many times now I thought a’ just throwin’ it out rather than smell it for one more second. That fuckin’ perfume ya always wear is just everywhere on that bed though, so I say to myself, ‘What’s the point? It’s still there no matter what I do.’ And do ya know what’s really sad?”

The slurring, the wobbling, the stuttering. At this point, he’s an incomprehensible mess. Long ago you’d heard a concerning bang, but that bang had caused the end of his unsteady footsteps so you figured he’d finally just collapsed to the ground.

“Two days ago I took down all the pictures we got hung up all over the apartment. Every single one I took down and put ‘em all in a li’l pile on the couch. An’ on the coffee table I had this stupid trash bag, and I had this fuckin’ lighter in my hand. For an hour, I sat there, lookin’ at the first damned picture I took from that pile. The stupid lighter ran outta gas ‘bout halfway through, and I still didn’t put the picture down. It was like I was stuck lookin’ at us, at how good we were. So many times I asked myself what the hell went so wrong that you up and left me outta the blue.” A choked up laugh snuck through the speaker. “It was that picture of us when we graduated. I was holdin’ you in my arms and you were smilin’ and hangin’ onto me so tight and—fuck-” Atsumu broke off in a breathless whimper, a muted sob slipping through.

After about a minute of silent weeping, he cleared his throat, though it was scratchy rough when he spoke again. “All those pictures–they’re back up on the wall, darlin’. Never did nothin’ with ‘em, never hid ‘em away.”

“I just… I just don’t wanna get rid of ‘em. And ya wanna know why? It’s the most pitiful thing yer ever gonna hear.” He heaves a shaky sigh. “It’s ‘cuz I keep hopin’ one a’ these days yer gonna show back up at our door, that li’l look of confusion on yer face when ya see I got rid a’ all our pictures together, and then you’ll get all sad and pouty and beg me to dig ‘em outta the trash for ya.”

“I’d do it. Ya know I would. I’d do anything for you.”

“S-so can you come back, darlin’? Please?”

“‘Cuz I need you, bad. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“That damned house is too quiet without you singin’ and dancin’ all over it. An’ I can’t ever figure out where you got those scented candles from–the ones that smell like yer perfume. I can’t find ‘em, and the ones you left behind, they’re all burnt out. All used up.”

“I miss you, darlin’. Fuck, I can’t stand another second without you.”

“Please, just come back to me. I need you.”

And in the background his friends have finally jimmied the door open. There’s a strangled cry as one of them tackles Atsumu to the ground, ripping the phone from his grasp. “Fuck, guys, look, he is calling her.”

“Oh, ‘Tsumu…”

And the call ends.

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julemmaes · 3 years

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Not Enough

Rowaelin Month, Day Three

A/N: guess what? French is still not a priority:) This is a continuation of yesterday's prompt actually, but there's no need to read it to understand the story, I just think it'd hurt more if you did tho. So it's up to you, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,646

Aelin had been awake long before her fiancé's alarm went off.

She had been awake when the sun had begun to shine through the blinds and she had been awake when he had rolled over in bed, holding her one last time before getting up to go to the bathroom.

She had vividly felt the kiss he had left on her forehead and the whispered words of each morning.

Go back to sleep, love.

The sound of water falling in the shower and the soft humming of Rowan preparing for yet another day in the Senators. The song of the birds beginning to fly out of their flat wasn't giving her the fairy-tale awakening it did every morning. And the Ottawa traffic that increased with the ticking of the clock was no longer giving her the sense of life it had given her over the past few months.

And then a hint of hope as Rowan walked into their room and began to change, slipping on his shoes and giving her another kiss, this time on the lips.

The sound of his duffle bag being lifted off the ground, the sticks banging into each other.

The jacket being put on.

She heard the front door open and closed her eyes, a smile so slight that few would be able to see it for what was perhaps finally happening.

Aelin began to hope as she had never before in her life.

That Rowan hadn't just forgotten to take off the ring he wore on his finger, but had deliberately decided to leave the house with the silver band on his hand. To show it to the world.

She heard the soft click of the door shutting and brought her hands to her face, trying to hide the clear happiness etched on her features, trying to hold back the shriek of victory.

She pulled herself up in her seat, her head snapping to his bedside table to make sure it wasn't just a dream. That Rowan had actually gone outside, shouting to the world that he was getting married. When she didn't see anything shiny on the countertop, she fell forward onto the bed, a dazzling smile now beyond her control on her lips.

They had talked about it for a long time, arguing for days, weeks, each time deciding to leave things as they were.

Rowan Whitethorn, professional athlete, rookie for his dream team, was climbing the ranks of every chart that existed. New recruit with most goals scored in the last ten years. Player with the fastest shot ever. Most handsome man of the year.

Aelin was proud. She was so proud.

But she wasn't happy.

It had been more than two years since they got together. Two of the best years of Aelin's life, in spite of everything.

They'd spent the last year of college breaking up and getting back together, constantly, amidst the rumors from others and the insults from every person who insinuated that she was only dating him for his title, for what he would become in a few months. They'd broken up for good the summer Rowan had been called up to play for one of the top teams in the country, after she'd been pushed to the ground by an overly agitated fan outside a club during one of their friends' birthdays.

Rowan had lost his temper, lashed out, and the team had threatened to cut him off before he even got in. Aelin would have never allowed such a thing and had left him, saying there was no hope for them anyway. Either way, he would travel for six months non-stop and she would stay home, alone.

He had looked at her, his eyes wet with tears that Aelin had never seen him cry, and thanked her, for putting up with everything he had subjected her to.

When it was confirmed that Rowan had made it onto the Ottawa Senators, Aelin, who hadn't spoken to him in months, had texted him, congratulating him on achieving his dream.

He hadn't texted her back, and Aelin had known that whatever hope they had had was dead.

Surely she wouldn't have imagined Rowan turning up at her house, asking her to go with him, the day before the move. Desperate, opening his heart to her, his every thought, his every worry. But showing how far he would be willing to go if it meant spending even one more night with her.

And that was how Aelin found herself in their home, in their new city. Promised to the only man she would ever love, to the only man who would know her so well that he understood what was going on in her head even before she did.

And until now she had been a secret.

They had kept their relationship a secret.

Only their closest friends, their families had known of their comeback.

And they'd been so painfully good at keeping a low profile, despite Rowan being all over the headlines of every sports magazine. So good, in fact, that Aelin felt as if she didn't exist.

Every interview in which Rowan said he had no one, that he was single. Every picture of him and one of their friends in the magazines hinting at a possible relationship. Whether it was Lysandra, Nehemia, Manon - she didn't care, she knew he'd come home to her. But every little thing was just another splinter added to the spike that was piercing her heart.

But today, she thought, smiling, today Rowan had gone out with the ring.

The promise he had made to her, that he would be hers one day.

The promise he'd been afraid to show to anyone, and that he'd slipped off every day to keep the reporters from talking.

She was still floating on clouds, her breath short, ready to burst into tears with happiness the second her brain too had really understood what was going on. It was at that moment that she heard it.

The front door opening.

Rowan walking quickly towards their room. The heavy footsteps in the hallway.

He opened the door, giving her a half smile.

Aelin felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

He greeted her with a quick kiss. Something he had once been allowed to do even in public. Something that had given her the strongest emotions he was now afraid to do.

She stopped seeing. Hearing. Feeling.

She got out of bed with slow, almost robotic movements, heading for the bathroom. She clung to the sink, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes that had once been cheerful, happy, looked back at her empty, dull.

And Aelin knew, even without looking, that on the bedside table lay his ring.

***

Rowan had never been so tired in his life.

Today's training had exhausted him so much that he'd almost called Aelin to come and pick him up, worried that if he got behind the wheel in this condition he'd have an accident.

Then he remembered that he couldn't.

That Aelin couldn't come and get him, because to let her leave the house, to let others know of her links to him would put her in danger.

So he'd gotten into his car and driven with the radio volume too loud, to keep him awake, and pinched himself every time he changed songs, to stay alert on the road.

He walked up the stairs to his house with hurried steps, wanting to reach Aelin as soon as possible. Telling her that he had missed her and the crap Lorcan had said during practice. Warning her that Fenrys would be coming to town in the next few days and they would have to arrange a dinner at their house.

He liked being able to talk about their friends, it gave him a sense of normalcy. Something that playing hockey didn't give him.

He would never say he was unhappy with his sporting career. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Hockey had been his final destination since the first time his father had put skates on his feet and pushed him on the ice.

And now, after winning the championship, with record-breaking results, his first year as a professional, he couldn't complain too much.

But staying away from Aelin during games. The hotel rooms, the flights, the girls throwing themselves at him at every party thinking he wasn't taken... it had been taxing. And he couldn't help but imagine that it would only get harder over the years.

The only thing that would keep him sane was the idea of coming home to her.

He opened the door, calling her name and expecting the smell of whatever she had decided to cook that night to fill his nose, but it didn't. Aelin didn't answer, all the lights were off, and he lent an ear to the hallway, hoping to hear the shower going - maybe he'd even be able to join her if he moved fast enough - but the house was shrouded in stark silence.

He closed his eyes with a sigh.

He hated coming home when she was out.

Whether she was at the gym or shopping, it was like a torture that only he had to endure.

He carried his duffel bag into the bedroom, leaving everything by the wardrobe, slipping off his shoes slowly and letting himself fall onto the mattress.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to get some of the sleep out of his body, and turned to the bedside table, ready to wear the ring she had gotten him. A promise he'd be able to keep once things were settled with his agent.

He snatched the ring from the bedside table and found himself taking a second look at it.

His breath caught in his throat.

Aelin's ring sat there, next to a slip of paper.

And Rowan knew. Even without having read what she had written, what it meant.

He snapped out of bed, opening her wardrobe violently, the dressers, finding them completely empty. He cursed aloud, running to the bathroom, opening every goddamn drawer, every shelf, finding them bare of all her possessions.

The living room, her reading nook, empty of everything that had belonged to her.

He grew short of breath and the more air he tried to gulp down, the more panic assailed him, closing his lungs.

He ran back into their bedroom, grabbing the letter and running his eyes over the words, looking for a clue, a name that would give her away and make him know where she was.

Lysandra.

He grabbed the phone from his jacket, fingers too fast on the screen as he searched for his friend's number.

She picked it up after three rings.

"Rowan! Hey, what's up?" she replied cheerfully.

He did not even waste any time in answering, "Where's Aelin?" he asked in short breath.

"Aelin?" asked Lysandra, then in a more concerned tone. "Why don't you know where she is? Something happened?"

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends until he felt pain, "She left a letter, saying she was leaving and you'd know-"

"Rowan, she didn't call me. She didn't leave me any message," she stopped him.

A choked sound escaped his control. "Fuck."

"Wait." she said suddenly. "Yeah, here, I got a message from her a couple of hours ago. She-"

She froze suddenly and Rowan knew immediately what was about to happen.

"Please." he begged her.

Lysandra remained silent.

"Rowan, I can't tell you-"

"Please, Lys. Please." his voice broke.

He heard his friend take a deep breath, "Let me talk to her. And I'll let you know," and then a pause, "but if she asks me not to tell you anything, Rowan, I won't betray her trust like that."

He knew that. And he was glad that Aelin had friends she could still trust blindly.

"In the meantime, try to rest. I'll let you know if she's okay."

The call ended, Rowan didn't even say goodbye. He stood in front of the bed, a bed he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in tonight without her. He picked up the letter with trembling hands and headed for the kitchen.

He set it down on the table, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

He needed something to drink if he was going to go through with this.

He poured himself half a glass of whiskey and began to read.

Hi Rowan

when you’ll read this, I’ll be on a plane over the ocean already. I don’t know where I’m going yet and I’m not gonna tell you, cause I don’t want you knowing and leaving everything behind to follow me.

Cause I know you would, baby, I know you’d let it all go for me in a second if I asked you to. But I’m not letting you. What kind of person would that make me if I did?

You worked your entire life for this. You woke up at unholy hours of the day just to train for half of your life. You had your body slammed into those plastic barriers for fun for years, cause you love the feeling you get after a good game. I know you always complain about the bruises and the pain, but we all know you like that cause it makes you feel like you did enough. You ate shit food that tastes like cardboard so you could have that amazing body and play for your dream team. Skate on the ice whenever you want.

And you did it, Rowan. You made you dream come true.

And I’m not gonna be the one person to take it from you.

I won’t ask you to give up on something this big, not for me.

I’m just a person.

Someone you love, that used to love you.

But I can’t do this anymore, because I’m losing myself. And losing this part of me will make me hate you. And I don’t want that to happen.

I don’t want to be your secret anymore. And I don’t want to have to protect myself when I go out if I’m not. I want to be able to walk next to you, holding your hand without risking being shoved aside or hurt. I don’t want you to be worried all the time, whenever I’m not with you. I don’t want people talking about us.

And I’m weak, Rowan. I’m not like you, and I’m so tired. I can’t put on a mask, an armor, and pretend like the words don’t hurt, cause they do. They slice through my heart and they taint my love for you.

This isn’t the life I wanted for us, but it’s the one fate gave us, so maybe we’re not meant to be. I hoped with everything I am that we were, that I deserved you – that one day people would stop caring about others’ lives and mind their own fucking business.

It broke us back in college and I’m not willing to have them do that again on their terms, so I’m doing it on mine.

I wish I could be your “till death do us apart”, but I can’t.

I hope you find someone who will love you as much as you deserve and I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person.

I’m sorry my love was not enough.

Please, for my own sanity, don’t ask Lysandra where I am.

I’m not coming back,

Aelin

Rowan sat there, tears streaming down his face, as he read and reread the paper in his hands, finding hard to breathe as his world collapsed on him.

And the only thing he wished, was for him to be able to hold her one last time.

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#rowaelin month #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin month day three #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic

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keijifairy · 3 years

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big little things 〃

♡ kageyama, nishinoya, oikawa, iwaizumi, bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, suna do that show how in love they are with you.

genre. fluff fluff fluff

warning. kinda spoiler for timeskip! bokuto

author’s note. hi,, im so sorry for promising to write but not writing :// i hope this disgustingly fluffy thing will make up for it as a late thank you for 400+ followers!!! aaaaa what 💗💗💗!!!!!

+ writing this was super fun but also kinda upsetting bc sum of these are inspired by real life love stories wow </3

༘ kageyama frozen by your door with a painfully awkward smile and an assortment of wildflowers in his grasp is truly a sight to behold. before he picks you up for a date, he plucks flowers from the park near his house and shoves them into your hands with an incoherent compliment he exclaims (along the lines of “your face looks pretty”, you realize when he mumbles it the next minute and looking at anywhere but your face). you accept them with a giggle and return the sentiment with your lips brushing his cheek which blossoms into a deeper shade of red. hinata doesn’t believe that the rigid boy with a volleyball for a brain could be a sappy romantic like how you describe him to be.

༘ nishinoya is well aware of your sweet tooth, which is especially fond of chocolates. packs upon packs of the tiny chocolate kisses you secretly pop in your mouth during classes are stashed in his fridge, backpack, and even in the pockets of his uniform as a result. “it’s for emergencies,” he assures you with a proud grin whenever you find yet another family bag of hershey’s somewhere near him. you didn’t guess that not getting a particularly good mark on a test or homework piling up as the days pass were the so-called emergencies he proclaims: when your shoulders sag and your feet shuffle on the ground without a thought, the taste of chocolate lingering in your lips come as a surprise. his favorite laughter finally reaches his ears and nishinoya can’t help but gift you with another of his own chocolate kiss.

༘ oikawa is stubborn, incredibly so, but he’s only doing his best — even tries to push himself past his limit. it’s no surprise to enter the gymnasium to the thud of the ball as it hits the ground and you observe how strands of his hair stick to his forehead while his heavy breaths fill the room. you offer to help, to wait for him until he’s had enough—for too many to count—but he only flashes you a grin and lightly urges you out to the door every single time. oikawa couldn’t bring himself to focus if he watches you jolting awake every now and then instead of resting after bearing the weight of school — though he worries either way. with his phone leaning against his bag, he initiates a video call that gives you the perfect view of the boy jumping in the court through your screen as you make your way home.

༘ iwaizumi has never gotten used to the ridiculous amount of nail polish you have collected ever since the both of you settled into your own home. he looks back and forth between your face and the small bottle of polish in your hand with his lips pressed together. “do you really need six bottles of blue?” you scoff and correct him for the nth time about the exact name of each color and end it off with a “none of your business, haji.”, causing him to narrow his eyes at you in concern with an exasperated sigh. quite ironic of him, acting so bothered and all, when you catch him watching a “how to build a nail polish shelf” video the next day.

༘ bokuto still calls one of his teammates every wednesday morning to inform them that he would have to miss practice, and atsumu still snickers on the other end of the line with an, “again? are ya sure yer not just slacking off?” wednesdays are scheduled for your doctor’s appointments, after all, so bokuto always makes sure to make it up to the other guys by doing extra drills or staying another hour the next day because he doesn’t intend on missing a single meeting. hospitals and clinics aren’t places you enjoy and you don’t feel comfortable talking with the doctor on your own, but you don’t worry too much — especially with bokuto seated beside you, listening intently to their words with his thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand. his presence alone is enough to ease your anxieties. (his teammates don’t have it in them to be mad, only thinking about how whipped bokuto is for you).

༘ akaashi knows the moment you open the door with your eyes trained on your shoes that the day hasn’t been the kindest to you. he approaches you in quiet steps, taking your bag from your hands and placing it on the couch. you think the way his hand holds yours so delicately is enough to make you cry as he guides you to the bubble bath he had prepared at the right time, as if his sixth sense had told him of what you were feeling. the scent of lavender oil lingers in the air, and the flickering candles cast a soft glow throughout the room; it’s a comforting silence, save the occasional sniffles that tone down as akaashi gently scrapes through your scalp with shampoo. when the suds of soap are rinsed off of your body and he caresses your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in the comfort of your bed, sleep crawls into your eyes as a “thank you, keiji.” falls from your lips. he only kisses your forehead in response.

༘ atsumu takes tentative sips on the cold can of cherry cola you offer to him every day. it’s the only drink you purchase at the vending machine during lunch period and what you grab when you two stop at the convenience store for movie night snacks. he doesn’t bother to buy himself one, as you immediately nudge the can on his cheek as soon as you open it. its taste is something he could never get used to, but he swallows it nonetheless, only to convince you afterward that he couldn’t finish it on his own — and of course, he teases you, just like in every opportunity he grabs when you’re simply minding your own business and completely unaware of the trick up his sleeve — and always, you’re left stumbling over your words as you stare at him in shock? embarrassment? offense? perhaps a bit of all of them? but he does know that “that was an indirect kiss just now.” of his and your adorable reaction make cherry cola worth it.

༘ osamu comes home in your arms with drooping eyes and a worn smile. his words are almost incoherent when he mumbles them on your shirt, eventually turning into snores when you tell him to at least wash his face. owning quite a famous shop with the best onigiris in town (your words and his) can be hectic; with the day spent molding countless onigiris and tending to every customer, that ends with his arm limp on top of your waist. with your own work to deal with that occupies almost the rest of your days, there would be no room to breathe with just the both of you — but with osamu, it’s not like that at all. the soft sizzling from the kitchen wakes you up to an empty space beside you and your stomach’s quick to grumble in anticipation. the shop opens early, but osamu doesn’t leave until the both of you start the day eating at the dinner table and talking about the events of yesterday. it’s no doubt he’s still exhausted, so the small gesture of waking up early in the morning to cook your favorite breakfast and the gentle hum that greets you when you wrap your arms around him is enough to make you full.

༘ suna must be obsessed with you! might be the first thing someone would think when they get their hands on the boy’s phone. his gallery is a gold mine: full of images and videos he takes of you in unknowing times that he has definitely used for blackmail at least twice a week. nibbling on your pen with your eyebrows scrunched when you attempt to start homework, cheek squishing on your pillow as a line of drool slides down the side of your mouth, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back because you’re wheezing too much over something he said, and plenty more embarrassing moments you don’t like looking back on are what fill his storage space. he refuses to delete even a single one, despite how blurry they come out or how you complain about how ridiculous you think you look. suna is obsessed with you — you would know if only you notice how he stops after he snaps a photo, with a small adoring smile that disappears as soon as it comes before he teases you to no end.

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

Call Out My Name - F.W.

Fred Weasley X Reader imagine inspired by the song ‘Call Out My Name’ by The Weeknd.

Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: Your Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

About: Fred is constantly in a ‘on and off’ toxic relationship and he uses the reader when he is lonely, overtime she falls in love with him but because she isn’t Fred’s girl - she has no choice but to walk away.

Themes: Heartbreak, unrequited love, sadness, longing.

Warnings: indication of smut, raw feelings of worthlessness, depression and anger.

Staring out of the train window trying to think of something to doodle in your notebook you couldn’t help but feel over the moon that you were going home for the summer, you had never felt like this before and you hated that you did - but after years of being strung along by someone and not being able to stay away from them - this feeling was bittersweet, hell, everything you had gone through was now nothing but bittersweet memories you just wanted to forget, almost like it never happened.

You fell in love with Fred slowly but the more time you spent with him you fell head over heels for him. This whole fiasco - whatever it was you had with Fred started three years ago, your first time spending the summer at The Burrow. Fred’s on and off girlfriend split up with him for the first time, Fred became withdrawn, not wanting to take part in his usual pranks or plan any new inventions with his brother George. At first, you believed that Fred wanted you around because he valued your friendship (a budding romance) and because you made him happy, but overtime you realised that this wasn’t the case at all - unfortunately you were just a stepping stone for him, someone to use when he couldn’t get what he wanted from the ‘love of his life’.

You put your head in your hands and sighed deeply, the tears slowly pricking at your eyes, slouching in your seat you covered your house scarf (the one that Fred bought you) over your eyes, the memories flashing back to you like they happened yesterday.

We found each other I helped you out of a broken place You gave me comfort But falling for you was my mistake

Fred sat in his bed, his eyes red and puffy from all of the crying “I don’t know what to do, she doesn’t want me anymore” seeing him in such a state made your heartache, you had never seen him like this before - you were used to him bouncing around, always laughing and getting up to no good, not crying in bed too sad to be himself.

You sat on his bed and stroked his short hair that had been cut a few weeks ago “It’s going to be okay” you smiled at him softly “I know it might be too much to ask but why don’t we go for a walk? Get away from all the noise in this house, just this once.” you encouraged him.

Fred contemplated your offer for a moment and then nodded “I can do that” he smiled, slowly getting out of bed. What started off as ‘just this once’ turned into routine - you and Fred going for stupidly long walks every morning you were at the burrow.

Remembering the first time your hands brushed up against one another used to make the butterflies in your stomach soar but now all it does is hurt worse than before - rain now pattering down on the window.

Within months you and Fred did everything together, morning walks, quidditch in the afternoon basking in the warmth and orange glow of the sun, and then in the evenings you two would sneak downstairs whilst everyone lay asleep in bed.

“Hey Y/N” Fred whispered through the crack in the door, trying not to wake everyone up “fancy popping on one of those muggle horror movies you keep telling dad about?”

You turned over, the landing light shining in your eyes and smirked at Fred, mirroring him “go on then.”

Clutching your chest you could feel the pain of this memory hit you like a tonne of bricks, taking deep breaths you tried so hard to bring yourself back into the present moment... on the way home... leaving Hogwarts...but it didn’t work, like a leaf in the wind you were pushed back in relieving what you just wanted to forget.

The old and scratchy patchwork blanket sat over you and Fred, out of the corner of your eye you caught Fred glancing at you and smiling to himself. Turning to face him you asked what was so funny “nothing” he replied, yet he leaned in closer, his nose almost touching yours. Giving in, the two of you shared your first kiss and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks igniting within you.

You brushed your fingers over your soft lonely lips reminiscing more of the memories that popped into your head as if they were being played on film.

A few evenings later you and Fred were on the same sofa, covered by the same scratchy old patchwork blanket in the dead of night, yet this time instead this kiss lead to something much more, instead of sparks simply just igniting, burst into the biggest and most beautiful firework as you and Fred shared such an intimate moment together.

George had to admit that although he felt left out, he couldn’t deny how much happier Fred became when you were around - he started being himself again; pranking Ron and annoying Percy like it was going out of fashion.

But you had no idea that whatever you had with Fred would turn into the most intense rollercoaster ride you had ever been on.

I put you on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly

For the first time in your life you put another person before you and you deemed such an act ‘worth it’ at the time because you made mistakes out of your pure love for Fred, but you realised all you were doing was burning yourself out to keep Fred alight. Instead of getting perfect grades, you found yourself in enough detentions for everyone in your house.

In your mind Fred was yours, your boyfriend and he made you feel on top of the world and all you wanted to do was share your feelings and relationship to the world. Every Saturday morning you would be sat waiting at the Quidditch pitch to cheer on Fred, regardless whether it was a match or just practice.

You would write to your family and friends, telling them all about the soft haired troublemaker who swept you off your feet. “Looks like you’ve got another letter” George mentioned one morning over breakfast, your owl swooping up ahead delivering a reply.

You smiled widely and nodded “Of course I do!” you giggled “My parents can’t wait to meet Fred this Christmas!”

George’s face dropped at your excitement, he cleared his throat awkwardly “I’m really sorry Y/N but did Fred tell you?” he asked, giving you a deep look of sympathy.

You scowled and shook your head wondering what would get in the way of your perfect plans “tell me what?”

George stayed silent for a moment but he tried his best to let you down gently “He’s back in contact with his ex, they’re working things out.”

And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

And for the second time, Fred came crying into your arms looking like he had been torn apart “She doesn’t think it’s going to work out, she said that it’s not the right time” you held him in your arms, cuddling on the sofa in the common room, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his now long shoulder length hair with the other, you reassured him.

“It’s going to be okay Freddie, you got yourself back on track last time and you’re capable of going it again sweetheart” you reminded him “you’ve got me and George, remember.”

Within the months that came after, you two were inseparable once again, going to Hogsmeade on the weekends raiding Honeydukes and sharing a butterbeer or two in the Three Broomsticks but as always and like George predicted, once Fred’s girl came back into the picture, he dropped you again.

You managed to break from your flashbacks for a moment, removing the scarf from your face. Checking your watch you had another hour or so until you would be arriving at Kings Cross Station, you slumped back down in your seat and doodled broken hearts and tears onto your open love letters to Fred, now hidden in your notebook.

So call out my name (call out my name) Call out my name when I kiss you so gently I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay, even though you don't want me

“Well from the sounds of things you’re not in a serious relationship” you mentioned to Fred, taking off your muddy robes. George shook his head at you almost telling you off but you were both getting frustrated, the only difference is that you didn’t want to keep quiet anymore.

“Not yet but I’m waiting for her” Fred said eagerly removing his robes too, George could feel the tension in the air and went to the common room.

“So what about us?” you asked bravely, your heart begging to hear what it wanted most.

Allowing the last of your confidence that Fred had wiped away overtime, you walked towards him and cupped his face, kissing him softly, trying to convince him that you were the one worth waiting for but no matter what, deep down in your heart you knew Fred was thinking about her.

Fred kissed back and chuckled “us?” he flashed you a confused look “we’re the same as we’ve ever been, as we’ll always be” you felt crushed, this wasn’t the answer you were hoping for (and you now owed George all of your exploding bonbons) but you accepted your fate and left to find George so you could cry in his arms.

“He never truly wanted me, did he?” You asked George, tears running down your cheeks.

George shook his head “It’s always been about her Y/N, I’m sorry” you hugged George and cried into his chest whilst he held you.

“why can’t I be Fred’s girl?”

Torturing yourself beyond repair you couldn’t stay away from Fred, no matter how hard you tried. You still found yourself supporting him at Quidditch, helping him study, you even engaged in conversation with him about his girl, how amazing she was and how happy she made him. You knew if he had the chance Fred would transform you into her if a single project came down to it.

Girl, why can't you wait? (Why can't you wait, baby?) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of love? Won't you call out my name? (Call out my name) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way

Clutching your date and dancing lazily to the music you stared at Fred having the time of his life with the girl of his dreams on his arm, beaming up at him. You hoped this ball and your date would help you find a new spark and create new fireworks yet with every opportunity to do so all you did was wish for Fred, stare at him and act as if he were to realise you were the one with any coming moment - but it didn’t happen yet, it would never happen. You kept wishing over and over in your head for Fred to turn around, meet your gaze and to become blinded by your beauty when you had another admirer trying to break down your cold persona.

I said I didn't feel nothing baby, but I lied I almost cut a piece of myself for your life Guess I was just another pit stop 'Til you made up your mind You just wasted my time

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Fred asked, taking a bite out of his toast “Mum and dad are really keen to meet her and she’s never been able to visit over the summer before and with everyone else there we just wouldn’t have the room.”

The two of you continued to walk towards the castle, George following not far behind.

Fred was now inviting his girlfriend to stay with him at the burrow this summer, something you had always done up until this very moment - this was the moment you realised that everything had been a lie, Fred never cared, he never loved you, he had just used you each and every time the love of his life got bored, only to drop you as soon as she wanted him back.

“Yeah it’s fine, I understand completely” you lied, feeling anger, despair and insecure like you had never before “I’ll just see you at the shop once the ball gets rolling.” Earlier in the year Fred offered you a job to help out with him and George at the shop, placing your own career plan at the ministry on hold.

“Oh bugger” Fred stopped his tracks looking a bit stressed “that's another thing i forgot to mention, we won’t be needing you to help out anymore as-”

“she’s helping out instead” you cut Fred off, finally reaching your breaking point you ran away from Fred and went to your dorm, packing your trunk.

You're on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly, babe And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

“Are you seriously running back to him after what he did?”

“He isn’t like that! you don’t understand, you can’t judge him - you don’t even know him!”

So call out my name (call out my name, baby) So call out my name when I kiss you So gently, I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay even though you don't want me Girl, why can't you wait? (Girl, why can't you wait 'til I) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of loving? Babe, call out my name (say call out my name, baby) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way, girl I'll be on my

Jolting awake the train came to a stop, you had finally arrived at the station. Taking a deep breath you picked up your trunk and notebook, getting off the train your scarf slipped off but you were too busy trying to spot your parents to notice. This was it, no more Hogwarts, you didn’t want to look back.

Feeling faint you ran into the toilets, throwing up the last of your pumpkin juice from the ride home, you stared at yourself in the mirror, washing your hands and splashing your face.

“Why can’t I be Fred’s girl?” You asked yourself.

On my way, all the way On my way, all the way, ooh On my way, on my way, on my way On my way, on my way, on my way (On my)

Reaching the exit of the station you spotted The Weasleys, welcoming Fred’s new girlfriend into a tight hug with delighted expressions on their faces. You looked to George and he gave a sad smile, he wanted to say goodbye but even that would be too painful for you to handle; after all, you weren’t just losing Fred, you were losing George, Molly and the rest of the family you loved so much.

Before you could turn around and continue to look for your family, Fred noticed you, he stopped for a moment and waved, holding your scarf up in his hands and shaking it.

You wanted more than anything to run to Fred and collect it but instead you didn’t wave back or smile, you shook your head and spun on your heel, acting as if he were never there at all.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #one shots #oneshot #HP #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 years

Text

Wings

Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

Babysitting Judith was amazing, not that she needed a babysitter but Michonne preferred if someone was with her while she herself couldn’t be there.

“Come on Jude, time for bed!” You called out, chasing after her, trying to g her ready to sleep and hoping she’d lose some of that typical child energy by chasing her around the house or longer than was honestly needed. You’d never mind it all, it was great to only have to worry about a little kid’s bed time for once in a while. The only worries being the ones between the four walls you were currently sharing with probably the happiest resident of Alexandria. After running up and down the stairs countless times the little one finally started slowing down. “Oh noooo you’re catching meee!” She whined when you eventually picked her up and carried her to her room. “Yeah I did, you sleepyhead, you got to tired to run away. That means ya gotta sleep.” You carefully tucked her in and gave her a small kiss on her head. “Goodnight, kid.” You id softly as you left the bedroom. Before you could close the door completely, you heard a small ‘Goodnight’ and smiled to yourself as you closed the door and went back downstairs to drop yourself onto the couch.

You had been staying at this place for two days now and were currently deep in conversation with Kelly, who decided you needed some company after Judith’s bedtime. And of course none of your friend’s evening visits would be complete without a skillfully stolen bottle of alcohol and the two of you were deeply indulged in tipsy talk of boys, girls and anything that was not meant for children's ears.

“No, really. You wouldn’t even be able to imagine what I’d let that guy do to me..” You rambled on and on about your secret, not so little crush. “I wanna have his babies, oh my god.”

Kelly was practically crying in her seat from laughing too much, trying to hush herself to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally wake up Judith. “I never thought you were the one for kids, though?” She questioned into the room. “Especially now with the world gone to shit and all.”

You just kept blabbing on about how in love you were and how there was finally some hope once their group came into Alexandria and Kelly only fed you more questions to answer without an ounce of shame, all he way until the bottle was empty and your heart had spilled enough to satisfy her curiosity and you were close to falling asleep on the couch.

After Kelly left it wasn’t long before you passed out and slept peacefully until morning, when you were woken up by Michonne who had arrived home earlier than you expected. Your first instinct was to glance over the coffee table and lucky for you Kelly had thought to take the empty bottle back with her when she left. “G’morning, you.” You muttered, still half asleep. Looking further across the room you saw Judith quietly sitting at the dinner table, doodling something and making sure she wouldn’t wake you up while you still slept. “Good morning!” She happily called from the table, to which you lazily waved hello back while slowly getting up, praising whoever was listening to bless you with a morning without a hangover after drinking as much as you did yesterday.

“thank you so much for watching her again.” Michonne spoke as she gave you a goodbye hug at the front door after you shared breakfast and packed your things to head back home. “If you ever need the favor returned, let me know alright” She called after you with a mischievous smile and a happy wave before closing the door again.

You made your way back home and took a quick shower before going off to find Daryl who was supposed to come over yesterday to talk about that run you two were going on tomorrow, but he never showed up and you were curious to find out why.

Daryl was making his way over to Michonne’s place where he was meeting y/n to discuss their run, but before he knocked on the front door he heard laughter coming from the living room and checked through the window and spotted Kelly and her sharing a drink and laughing, listening in to their conversation he quickly decided he wasn’t gonna be a part of all that and went back home. The words he heard her speak mulling around in his head throughout the whole night and into the morning.

It wasn’t long before you found Daryl. After checking his place and finding empty, you saw Aaron’s garage door open and peeked in to see Daryl working on his bike. “Hey, good morning!” You called from outside the garage. You received a Hey back without him looking away from his bike. “Can I interrupt or are you dropping by my place when you’re done?” You asked, still from your safe distance. No one was allowed too close to his bike whenever he was working on it, not even Judith dared to get close to uncle Daryl’s garage when he was working. “S’alright. Lemme finish up here first.” He still hadn’t taken a single glance away from his bike and you took it as your sign to leave him alone and wait back at your place.

After sitting in the living room for what felt like way too long you started wandering around the house, picking up one item after the other and see if it was useful enough to pack for your run. You remembered Daryl telling you to only pack what was necessary, but you found so many things useful with your what-if way of thinking that you always carried an already full bag from the start of the run and having Daryl carry more than he was planning to because of your, according to him, bad habits.

Eventually there was a knock on your door and you almost threw yourself down the stairs to open the door and allow Daryl to come in and finally sit down to work out a plan.

“Hey! Good to finally see you.” You invited him into your home that was still a mess of items never put back after runs, blankets and pillows thrown around the couch and that was only the living room. There was more silence from him as he paced around, trying to find a spot that wouldn’t be right next to you on the couch. Questions were all over your mind, but you had to get to the point. Your biggest problem now was not being able to focus at all on the important run you were gonna go on, before going over why he hadn’t shown up and had been so weirdly quiet and distant.

“Were you working on our bike all night again? you didn’t drop by yesterday like you said you would.” You were sounding more worried than you wanted to let on, you knew that there was something wrong if Daryl spent all day tinkering away at his bike. He was still looking around at all of the stuff scattered throughout your place, mulling over the multiple ways he could answer. ‘You were drinking’ was one of them. ‘Ya were havin’ fun’ was another one, he’d never want to end your enjoyable night with a friend by coming over to talk about work. ‘Didn’t wanna hear more about the guy ya wanted to bone ya.’ Or more likely, not wanting to find out which pretty young guy she was so happily talking about.

“Came by, heard ya talk about guys with Kelly.” He said carefully, still avoiding your gaze. “Okay, so? You know we would have stopped as soon as you walked in, right? This is way more important than my tips rambling.” You had noticed him staring around and you felt guilty for not even cleaning up a little bit, knowing he’d drop by today. You had started with grabbing the pillows and tossing them into your basket an folding the blankets on top of it to at least make some space on the couch for Daryl to come and sit while you sat back down in the chair next to it.

“Or is there something else you want to talk about? there’s clearly something bothering you.” You didn’t feel safe going on this run tomorrow if this wasn’t talked about and properly dealt with.

Daryl knew this as well, if you two were going to go on a run without your heads on straight, either of you could end up getting hurt or worse and thinking about that idea had Daryl close to panicking earlier last night on top of those thoughts of what you talked about. He knew this was something he needed to share today and it was stressing him out.

“S’what ya said to Kelly. Heard something I should forget about. Tha’s all.” He sighed as he dumped himself on your couch, unsure if he chose the right words and afraid of the confrontation he was gonna have and couldn’t simply run away from.

“So you heard me talk to Kelly about,” You sighed, thinking back to your conversation, going from topic to topic, crossing out everything that wouldn’t have affected him like this and ended up on hat moment where you were shamelessly telling her what you’d want Daryl to do to you, but you couldn’t remember if you’d even used his name at all. “We talked about boys, so what?” You never mentioned his name in the part that he heard, or what you thought he had and now you had to decide wether you were telling him who all of that was about and confess, or let him imagine who you might have been talking about and get it wrong every time.

“Why’d ya want a guy to do that to ya in this world?” Daryl asked just loud enough for you to catch it before you could say anything else, and now you had to think of an answer. You thought about how much easier this was to answer if Kelly had been the one asking the question. Realizing what your head just told you, you knew how to answer him. Just tell him what you’d tell Kelly that was the truth and it should be said out loud before you could come up with a shitty excuse. Not daring to look him in the eyes, you were twiddling your fingers in your lap, gathering the courage to speak your thoughts out loud. Taking a deep breath you had to go for it. “All that was about you. We were talking about you. We both think you’re amazing. Her only as friends of course but I’ve been feeling more for quite a while and I’m sorry you heard all that. We drank too much and I wasn’t thinking.” Rambling on you almost went into an over-explaining fit because of how nervous you were and honestly you just wanted to disappear.

The silence wasn’t helping at all either, making your doubts ring even louder in your head. “Ya crazy, kid. But a good crazy.” You carefully looked his way after being dragged out of your head by his voice. “I don’t get it, really. Jus’ happy ya ain’t after one of them Alexandrian boys.” This had you giggle as Kelly gave you the exact same answer when she asked if you were interested in someone and found out it was Daryl.

“Is that all you’re gonna say? You don’t get it but what? You’re okay with it? You just don’t feel the same? Or you do but you don’t know how to say it.” You weren’t sure why you were asking so much, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answers.

“Can’t say I slept well after what ya said an’ thinkin’ it was about one of them other boys.” He was talking around the point and while you just wanted him to say what he was thinking, you knew it was difficult for him too. “So, what now? We just pretend this never happened, go on before?”

Daryl thought about it for a bit, pacing around the room rummaging in his pocket and pulling outa pack of cigarettes, holding them up for you to see. “You can smoke inside, there’s an ashtray in the kitchen.” You motioned towards the kitchen counter, understanding he needed a smoke after such a difficult talk. You saw him visibly relax as he took a few drags and sat back down with the ashtray balanced on his leg. Rethinking his plan he placed the ashtray back on the coffee table and placed his cigarette in it before leaning back in the chair and patting his leg, motioning for you to come over. “Yer gonna have ta help me with this.” He said and picked up his cigarette again as you hadn’t moved yet. “I do like ya a lot. But I wanna go on that run before we talk about all of this.”

#twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #the walking dead imagine #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #sometimes I write

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dancingwiththeplanets · 3 years

Text

Relief

Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

masterlist

Summary: “I know that we’re strangers but something really awful has happened to me and I need you.”

A/N: highly recommend listening to “everything i wanted” by billie eilish before reading because that is just the vibe.

Warnings: angst, ruminating, lots of dialogue, mourning the death of a parent, deals with depression and anxiety, soft!paz, a big brute with an even bigger heart

Word Count: 11k (oops)

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“Death changes people, it brings some people together, pushes other people apart...” You remember your buir’s words as if they were spoken to you just yesterday. They were the words he said on the day of your mothers funeral. “...but you and I, we do not let such things hurt us. We are stronger together, my ad’ika, we can only get through this together. Yes?”

“Okay, buir.” You said. Your wide, 5 year old eyes not fully comprehending the situation.

He nodded, pained, and whispered, “That’s a good girl,” before leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead and departing to the ceremony, your small form in tow.

He was right, death did change people. You remember seeing him in pure agony, as much as he tried to hide it from you. Your aunts and uncles would always be over, consoling him, distracting you, oftentimes just having you stay with them so your father could grieve away from your eyes.

But he never let it hurt your relationship. No, he was the best buir anyone could dream of. Your buir.

He was a proud man, respected and admired by all the warriors in the covert. Fierce, honorable, diligent and selfless. He would and did do anything for anyone. And the tribe respected him immensely. They even elected for him to be the Alor on more than one occasion, and he practically was. But he refused the title again and again, preferring to do all the work without carrying any official status. Even so, he certainly inherited the same amount of respect that the actual Alor had.

“All of the privilege and none of the responsibility.” He would tease, winking at you as the two of you would sneak out of the kitchens or any other ‘off-limits’ part of the covert, everyone turning a blind eye to your buir and ad’ika antics. Mainly just because they respected him too much to chastise you.

Truly though, he was a very respectable man. He trained the little ones, led hunts and security protocols for the covert, found lost Mandalorians and brought them home to the tribe. He dedicated his life to building the strongest and most operational covert that Mandalorians had seen in years. And he did it all for you. All so that you would have a safe place to grow up, so that you would lose as few brothers and sisters, and as few aunts and uncles as possible. So that you wouldn’t lose anyone just as suddenly as you’d lost your mother.

But he never prepared you for the day you would lose him.

The two of you were unimaginably close, so close that now you regretted ever developing a relationship that strong with him even if he was your father, because look at what it got you.

How were you supposed to go on? What was your life without your buir? What was this covert without your buir?

You look around the room, dozens and dozens of armored warriors here to pay their respects to your father, his body already having been buried. The tears leak out of your eyes without reserve as you hold tightly to your friend's hand, scanning the room for the comfort of your boyfriend. “He’ll be here soon” She whispers, though you sense doubt in her voice, “I’m sure of it.”

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You’re not sure what time it is, only that you’ve spent yet another restless night collecting tears in your pillow. Your booted feet pad down the deserted hallway of the covert. It’s aboveground, hidden beneath the treelines of a dense forest on a nearly desolate planet. It’s beautiful, unlike most every other secret covert that exists, though very few do. It has bulletproof glass paneling all around to allow for light to peek in through the trees. It’s warm and inviting instead of cold and gloomy.

“We need a home. Not a prison.” Buir had said.

You wince, face contorting in pain at the memory of him sharing the design with you. He had a dream. He wanted to live the way he used to, on Mandalore. Embracing nature and training warriors in the traditional way. He wanted your small tribe to grow into the hundreds. And that it did, well, to just over a hundred at least.

The most recent tribe came in from Nevarro, about seven months ago. He’d managed to track them down and get into contact with their Alor. Though some members of their tribe were reluctant to merge- they always are- they soon decided to join forces with your own, strengthening your numbers. Plus, they got to move to a much more beautiful, safe, and spacious planet.

Regrettably, you hadn’t gotten to know many members of the new tribe still. They were...different. Still pleasant from the interactions you’d had with them at least, good sense of humor and all, but they were devoted to the old ways of Mandalore, conservative, reserved, passionate. Most unusually they didn’t arrive with any women in their tribe, aside from their Alor. For some reason odd, universal reason, Mandalorian women were hard to come by. It was a troubling issue that distressed many people in the tribe, in any tribe. It felt like a curse on your people. But this tribe literally had only one. They obviously cherished and admired her immensely, they made her their Alor.

Also, their creed didn’t allow for them to remove their helmets, a drastic difference from the one you had sworn that didn’t even require you wear your armor all the time, though you and most everyone almost always did. You were still Mandalorian; Training, honor, armor...they were still as big a part of you as your soul was to your body. But everyone around here knew your face, and vice versa, even if you did spend most of your life behind the shield.

This week however, you couldn't bring yourself to put it on once. Hell, you didn’t even bother with your flight suit. You just stayed locked up in your tiny room all day and night, only leaving when you were forced out by your friends. “It’s for your own good,” they would say. You suppose they were right, but no matter how good of friends they were to you right now, their company seemed to make it all worse.

A part of you wanted Collin, your boyfriend of two years, but he seemed to disappear from sight every time you caught his eye, an action that made your friend, Brie, chase after him in a rage the last time. He had been so blatantly obvious. You were in tears, yet again, mourning your father, yet again, when you caught the flash of his grey armor slip past your crying form in the common room. The hurt you had felt was unimaginable. The betrayal. You know that your relationship was strained as of late, but this, the death of your father, how could he not be around for you? Even if just as a friend?

So here you were. Another sleepless night, another late hour gone by without the noisy comfort of the of the tribe at work. Your head was pounding from the tears, the dehydration and the pain. The kriffing pain.

This time you couldn’t do it. You couldn't stay trapped within the dark walls of your room any longer, quickly pulling on something decent to wear in the late night or early hours of the morning- you didn’t know what time it was- before mindlessly wandering the covert.

Empty. It must be smack in the middle of the night. Well, at least you could sulk freely, allow the tears to escape without worrying about what a blubbering mess you must look like. A part of you was thankful, this was...kind of nice? There was nobody hovering around you. No visors following your every move in pity or concern, waiting to catch you when you break. You did pass one or two guards patrolling the halls, but you avoided them as best you could, hoping to avoid being questioned.

You finally take a moment to sit, hiding yourself beside some phony shrub in the corner. You’ve wandered to the dining hall. You look around, hoping to distract yourself with the silent chatter of the five or so warriors lounging around, probably on break from late night duties. Your eyes finally resting on a group of three of your vods sitting around, talking. They’re from the new tribe, well, most recently new.

You don’t know any of them particularly well, least of all the heavy infantry warrier whose figure commands your attention. He spends most of his time with the higher ups or teaching the foundlings, and you fall somewhere there in the middle. But he’s broad and robust and by maker if he doesn't captivate your attention.

You listen to the quiet echoes bouncing around the spacious dining hall. There’s hardly anybody here, it must be so early. You groan, to you it just feels unbearably late.

You don’t know how long you sit here, hidden behind the leaves of the plant, hazy eyes focused on the blue warrior. You just sit, staring, he’s...peaceful to observe. His arms are crossed over his chest, leaned back comfortably against his chair. He huffs at something one of his brothers says, you can barely hear it, but you see the shake of his shoulders before he adjusts his posture and a small smile pulls at your own lips for some reason.

You shake your head. Is this wrong? You think, averting your eyes away from Paz’s form. You feel guilty for some reason, you mind reminding you of Collin. The guilt impacts you painfully for a moment, adding to the feelings of loss and exhaustion before you shake the thoughts away.

No. You think, eyes squeezing shut at the new wave of emotion hurting your already distraught mind. I’m just people watching. Not admiring. This is allowed. This actually feels...kind of nice, it’s allowed.

You permit your gaze to return to Paz and his friends, watching them nod at another couple of Mandos who pass by.

There was something so...comforting about Paz. You don't even know how you can think that? You don’t know him.

You watch his attention shift to his boots which are sprawled out in front of him, heels resting on the hard floor. He kicks his feet out a little bit, watching them wiggle from their movements. His action again tugging the teeniest of smiles to your lips.

You feel a small and brief glimmer of warmth in your chest, though quickly replaced by a pain that pinches from your gut to the back of your throat. Tears gloss over your vision before you’re able to fight them away with slow, deep breaths. It feels as though your body is chastising you for daring to feel a degree of happiness so suddenly.

No. You cower away from the invisible being hurting you, eyes squinting shut again.

You yearn for the slight relief and warmth to return. You need it. It just...feels so damn hard to breathe like this.

The anxiety, the fear, the distress. It just won’t leave you alone.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until you’re already out in the open. You’d abruptly stood from your hiding spot and started walking toward the source of relief, before nearly choking on air realizing what you were doing.

Holy shit, you gasp, It’s too late to stop walking. You’re already out in the open, and you’ve made it well into their field of vision. If you stop, they’ll notice you.

Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff.

The anxiety is burning in your chest again. Your steps falter before you stop, you’re not even sure what you’re doing anymore.

What you do know is that now you’ve caught the attention of the Mando sitting next to Paz, whose visor now watches your frozen form in the middle of the hall. Your heart beating loudly in your chest as you stand there motionless, eyes wide and breathing faltering at having been detected.

You must look absolutely deranged.

But of course, it had to get worse. Noticing the stillness of their friend, the other two shift their attention to see what’s silenced him.

Three visors. There are now three visors on you. Staring down your shaky, frozen form.

You can’t walk this off, you can’t play it cool. They’re already looking at you, you’ve stood still here now watching them for now who knows how long.

What do you do?

Kriff.

You recoil slightly, crossing your now shaking hands in front of you, hoping they wouldn’t notice your trembling palms.

What the hell is wrong with you? Relax. You’re a Mandalorian, just think.

What is the least horrible way out of this?

Carry it out. Whatever it was that you were doing, whatever mission your subconscious had led you on, just execute it.

You breathe in a shuddery breath, placing one foot out in their direction and hesitating before allowing the other to follow its movements.

Geez, walk much?

It’s so quiet in the empty hall, only 5 or 6 other Mandos out on the other end, so each tap of your feet is as audible as that of a bantha on crackling ice as you make your way to them.

“Okay, vod’ika?” One of them asks kindly. You recognize the maroon helmet from up close. Ramsey?

Ramsey, you think.

You nod slightly, suddenly remembering how out of it you must look. Eyes puffy and red, lips swollen, hair in disarray. You feel even more anxious to desert the mission than before, resigning to just get it over with and face the object of your desire.

“Paz,” you say, internally groaning at how pathetic and fatigued your voice sounds. “May I please speak with you for a moment?”

Kriff, what’s the plan now, di’kut?

The question directed at him takes him aback, but his posture instantly straightens. “Of course,” He says, rising from his seat.

You blink back a little as he stands to his full height. Have you ever been this close to him? Surely not, you would remember the feeling of being towered over like this. Paz hesitates, waiting for your instruction. Osik, were you just brazenly sizing him up right there? Great, and now he must think you’re intimidated by him.

Abort, abort, abort.

He tilts his helmet at you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You move for him to follow, which he does. You try to move as far away from the others as possible without being terribly obvious in hopes that they won’t overhear your conversation.

“Is.. everything alright?” He asks once you’ve guided him a safe distance away.

“Yes.” You say instantly, eyes locked on your hands. “I-I mean, n-no.”

This is weird.

What have you done?

You force your gaze up to meet his, noticing his visor tilt in concern. He no doubt already knows what’s troubling you. Everybody in the covert knows about your father’s passing, there was a ceremony for kriffs sake. Paz was probably there.

Your lip trembles suddenly, embarrassed, and instantly you’re cursing yourself for having put yourself through this. With everything in you, you squeeze your eyes shut and look down, the only way you know you’ll be able to ward off the tears, though you know your conduct is a dead giveaway as to what you’re trying to do.

He says your name, and there it is again, relief. Fleeting and short-lived, but making that one small breath easier to inhale than the rest.

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper in frustration. Opening your eyes to see his feet having moved closer to you than they were before.

Always concerned with the wellbeing of his tribe. You remember. That’s what this big brute is known for anyway, right? You can trust him.

“No,” He says, his tone soft spoken, a sharp contrast to his intimidating form. “Take your time.”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head at the floor before forcing your eyes up once again.

Always maintain eye contact. It’s a show of respect. And you always show your superiors that you respect them. Your dad's words remind you to keep your head level to Paz’s. Or...at least as level as it can be to Paz’s.

The reminder that you are indeed speaking to an alor’ad stirs up new nerves in your belly, you were falling apart in front of a captain. Worse, a Vizsla, Mandalorian royalty.

“Um,” you eventually sputter out, collecting your thoughts. “Well I...I kind of have a weird request.” Your murmur.

Are you going to faint? It feels like you’re going to faint.

“Okay,” He nods to indicate you have his full attention, “What is it?”

“Um,” Your voice wavers, suddenly feeling very shaky and lightheaded again, and incredibly annoyed that you didn’t just opt to put on your helmet for the sake of hiding your face. Only...it makes it really hard to breathe when you already feel like you can’t get enough air. And pulling it off every five minutes to clean your face of newly gathered tears was difficult.

He says your name again, this time slowly raising a hand to your shoulder. You exhale in relief when you’re met by his touch. “Hey,” He says, “It’s okay, what do you need?”

You take another calming breath, soothed by the weight of his hand that hasn’t left your shoulder. “Well first, are-are you busy today?”

What a stupid question, you think. He ranks high up in the chain of command, of course he’s busy. Not to mention, it’s probably, what, 5 a.m. right now? And he’s sitting in the dining hall. He certainly didn’t wake up this early because he didn’t have something to do.

“Not at all.” He assures with a shake of his helmet.

Sure.

You dismiss the obvious lie, staring his blue visor straight on. You can see your pathetic, teary-eyed reflection staring back at you in the space where his eyes would be.

He wants you to tell him what’s wrong, you remind yourself, just do it.

Using what remaining courage you have, you open your mouth to speak. “I...I know you don’t know me that well. I don’t really...know you either. I-I don't even know why I’m here asking you this right now. But, um, my-” you choke on your words, confidence diminishing “-my dad is dead, and I’m hurting and afraid and feeling completely unlike myself. I don’t know when the last time I slept was or if I’ve eaten anything in the last couple of days. I just know that-that something really awful has happened to me and I know y-you and I we-we’re practically strangers but right now I just n-need someone and I r-really want that person to be you-”

You hadn’t even realized the flood of tears gushing down your cheeks or the defeated sobs suddenly shaking your body until you were pulled into a pair of arms, his arms.

Strong, protective, shielding arms.

You hear the gentle sounds of Paz shooshing you, his hand pressed to the back of your head and cradling you in a comforting manner.

“I’ve got you, cyar’ika.” He hums, voice light and sweet like honey.

You almost don't mind the heavy sobs racking your body for a moment.

Sweetheart. He called you sweetheart.

You feel his body stir above you, either looking around or else...motioning something to someone. “Hey,” He whispers, keeping your head tucked into his arm, “Come over here with me.”

He guides you away from the dining hall where no doubt, despite your best efforts, whoever was in there had both seen and heard you throw your fit. At the very least catching your sobs at the end.

Ushering you around the corner to an empty hallway, he helps you down on a bench, sitting next to you. Your sobs slowly subsiding to small sniffles under the gloved hand moving soothing circles up and down your back.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, allowing you time to gather yourself. Once the wobbliness in your breathing evens out to a calmer, drawn out, pace, he asks again, “What can I do, vod’ika? I’ll help you, just tell me what you need?”

You nod your head, electing not to rub the abused skin around your eyes that was being continuously irritated by tears. “Could you maybe, stay with me today?” You ask timidly.

“Yes,” He responds instantly, “Yes, of course. Wh-what would you like to do? How can we...divert your attention?” He attempts to sidetrack the word distract, acknowledging that his word choice probably doesn’t make much a difference. “Is there anything on your agenda today?”

“N-no.” You sniff. “All my responsibilities this week were redistributed to other people. I have nothing to do.”

He hums, considering your words.

“But um,” you offer, “I suppose it would be good to take a shower.” You chuckle lifelessly, tugging at the unwashed ends of your hair.

You see his form tense beside you, and your eyes widen in horror in realising your error.

“O-oh maker, no. I was kidding, cause I’m a mess and all that’s - kriff - that’s not at all what I was insinuating-” You panic, fumbling for words.

He chuckles lowly beside you, raising a hand up to ease your stammering, “No, it’s okay. I understand. Allow me to...escort you then?”

“To the-” You swallow, cheeks no doubt pinkened by the encounter, “You really don’t have to I wasn’t seri-”

“Self-care is important.” He says, rising to his feet. “It’s the start of a new day, and it’s early enough that you’ll likely have the entire washroom to yourself. C’mon,” He extends an arm out to you. You contemplate taking it for a moment, briefly, again, considering Collin.

Who isn’t here.

“Really?” You ask, stunned both by his willingness to wait outside the washroom while you shower and his consideration of your privacy.

He lifts his elbow again in response. You rise from your seated position, hand hesitantly grabbing a hold of his arm as he lowers it back towards his side, making the gesture less obvious to prying eyes.

You hold onto the crease of his elbow, your other hand mindlessly joining your other so that you practically hang onto him. He tugs you forward, and you begin walking at a comfortable pace.

“Thank you,” You say, sounding stunned again. “I...I can’t imagine that when you woke up this morning you thought you’d be babysitting a stranger.” You mumble, embarrassed.

He huffs, “You are not a stranger,” then he says your name, again. Honey, pure honey.

“You are a member of my tribe,” He continues, “Even though we do not know each other well, I still care about you.”

You blink back your surprise at his words. This man truly is honorable. Caring and considerate and selfless. A big brute with an even bigger heart. You can’t stop yourself from looking up at him, nearly gaping at his words. “You care about me?” You ask.

He hums, looking at your wide eyes staring up at him.

“You don’t even know me.” You mutter as he looks away. You can’t possibly care about someone who you don’t know.

“I’m observant.”

You hesitate, feeling another foreign feeling flutter in your belly.

“Observant?” You challenge.

His visor looks back down at you, your puffy eyes swimming with curiosity. You want him to prove it.

He takes a tentative breath, hoping you’ll allude his suspiciously observant behaviors of you with the fact that he was trained to be hyper aware of his surroundings. He speaks slowly, “Your favorite food is vegetable pie, probably because it’s a main course, but also sweet. You like to busy yourself with your hands, often tinkering with whatever small, broken objects you manage to find around the covert. Every morning, you head to the training room early to run your own drills and stretch before everyone else arrives. You have a boyfriend, Collin I believe, who you like to align your chores with so you can do them together, except for cleaning the kitchens, which you always try to switch off with somebody else.”

Your eyes stare unblinkingly at his profile. “How-how do you know that?”

“Because kitchen duty is always crossed out under your name on the chores chart, and a different chore is always handwritten underneath.” He says, unable to contain an amused laugh. He opts to only remark on the last of his observations.

You slow to a stop, feeling suddenly incredibly ashamed. “Wow,” You say in admiration. “I-”

You can’t think of anything to say in response, you don’t know anything about him. And here he was telling you that not only does he care for you simply as a member of his tribe, but he actually knows things about you.

You’re overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, “Paz- I’m...I’m ashamed to say that I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”

He barks out a laugh, surprising you. “Are you concerned with what my favorite color is, cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” You answer, perhaps a silly amount of gravity. “Upon hearing all the things you know about me that most others don't, I mean I’m...I’m touched Paz.”

His tilts his head, visor lingering on your face a moment, and you’re sure that while it was a somewhat silly conversation, he can see the annoying little pools of water that gathered in your eyes again.

He’s silent for a moment. “My favorite color is brown,” He says.

“Brown.” You reflect.

He nods, “It’s warm, soothing.”

“Okay,” You say, hand reaching for his elbow again. “Brown. I’ll remember that.” You squeeze his sleeve in promise.

“I’m sure you will,” He smiles. Or at least you think he does. It sure sounds like he does.

You continue walking on in silence, only passing one other vod in the spacious hall. You’re fairly certain that the Mando approaching does a double take as he sees you clinging to the heavy infantry warrior, but Paz just gives him a nod as you pass in silence. It’s still terribly early. Or late, to you at least. For it to be early you would have had to have slept in the first place.

Your pace is slow, and you wonder if Paz notices the utter exhaustion plaguing your body.

Oh. He must, you think upon catching a reflection of yourself.

Kriff, you look about as good as you feel.

He stops outside your room so you could run in and bag some clothes, before you venture down to the washrooms. You walk comfortably in silence, despite having enjoyed some distracting conversation with him, it feels like the most you’ve spoken all week, and it was tiring, though not unpleasant.

“Could I, ask you something?” He hesitates, clearing his throat. Noting that you keep your eyes glued to the space in front of your feet. “Where is your...uh, Collin?”

He should be doing this. Paz reflects. Taking care of you.

You raise your eyebrows at the floor. “Sleeping I’m sure.”

“Well yes,” He says, “But why hasn’t he been, you know...around?”

His brows furrow at his own words. Well done Paz, you di’kut. First the poor girl’s dad dies, then you offend her by asking why her boyfriend hasn’t been taking care of her. Let alone the fact that you just made it known you’ve noticed his absence. That did not come out at all how he wanted it to.

He’s surprised by a little laugh emitting from your lips. Small and half-hearted and barely audible, but by maker if even then it isn’t one of the prettiest sounds he ever heard.

“Cause..” you sigh, searching for the answer. “-cause he’s an asshole.” You mutter, blunt as the truth leaves your lips.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have overstepped-”

“It’s okay,” you mumble, “what’s one more thing in my life..”

Paz is silent for a moment. You’re surprised your eyes haven't welled with tears again. Lately it seems like they prefer looking through a blurry lens rather than a clear one. But maybe a part of you expected this with Collin. Your relationship isn’t what it used to be. For the last six months it seems as though his interest in you has slowly diminished. It takes having something fun and interesting for him to seem excited about spending time with you. Cause maker forbid anytime you try to just sit and hang out with him you enjoy yourselves, he’s always got some excuse on hand to get him out of it.

“No,” Paz insists, interrupting your ruminations. “I’m sorry. Perhaps he thought space is what you wanted?”

I think space is what he wanted.

You don’t answer, arriving to the washrooms. Being the only two people in at this hour, the echo of his heavy armor clinks around the wide space. You pass door after door of the enormous shower rooms. Kriff, this is weird. Why was the first thing you thought of when he asked you what you would normally do to shower? I mean sure that was true, but certainly you could have forgone this item on your agenda for the sake of being...proper?

You glance at your passing figure in a mirror and flinch.

Although.

Maybe you...need a shower.

You must have showered within the last few days, right?

“Okay,” Paz says, breaking the silence. “I’ll wait out here.” He says, standing in the communal space with sinks and benches. “You just, take your time vod’ika. Let the water...freshen you up or, soothe you or..some shit.”

Your frown abruptly turns into a wide smile as you giggle.

Victory. He thinks.

His breath hitches behind his own helmet. Kriff, you have a lovely smile. How had he never noticed your smile before?

“Thank you, Paz.” You say, retreating to a random facility and briskly closing the door.

You lean against the door once it’s shut, the ghost of a smile still on your cheeks.

He’s really just going to stand out there. Just so that you know he’s there, that you’re not alone.

“Wow.” You whisper, soaking in the warm feeling in your stomach. It feels like forever since you’ve felt that, giddiness.

You move to turn on the water, slowly stripping yourself of your clothes. You were still wearing your nightshirt from your fruitless sleep endeavors. It was nothing indecent, just a plain, black, elbow-length shirt. Luckily, you had had enough sense in you to pull on a sports bra before you abandoned any notions of sleep, lazily just slipping on some green cargo pants over your leggings before wandering aimlessly through the covert.

You look comfortable but...certainly not like a fierce Mandalorian.

You try your hardest to wash the gloom off your face, focusing your attention on the mission at hand in hopes of keeping distracted. Now you remember why you’d been putting off showering. For some reason, whenever you’re buried under the protective warmth of the loud, secluded shower, at least since it happened, you started to-

The first sniffle comes before you sense its approach, and within seconds your body is shaking in silent sobs.

“Shit.” You whisper.

Pull it together, it’s okay, just breathe. Paz is out there, you don’t want him to hear you.

Your tears blend together with the water running down your body from the shower, making it impossible to discern what is the result of your own pain and what procured it.

You let out a silent whimper, quiet enough that thankfully, you’re sure Paz couldn’t have heard.

Breathe. It’s okay, you’re okay.

No. I’m not okay.

I’m all alone.

“Stop it.” You scold yourself harshly, your soft breath echoing only in your ears.

You are not alone.

Someone is here for you.

Paz. Paz dropped everything to take care of you.

He’s right outside that door, waiting for you.

You take another moment to compose yourself, allowing the last few suds to wash down your form before turning the water off. You quickly dry yourself off and pull on your change of clothes, now wearing a blue sweater and leggings. You didn’t even bother bringing a flight suit. What’s one more day of not suiting up. But at least you’ve still got your boots.

You walk to the mirror, sighing once you get a good look at yourself.

Great.

Swollen, red, angry eyes stare back at you with a red nose to match.

Fuck. You shove all your things back into the sack, giving your hair a final few shakes with the towel before moving towards the door.

It swings open, and you’re met with the sight of Paz leaning against the opposite wall. Arms crossed, one foot propped up against the wall. His visor turns in your direction as you emerge from the chambers. He hmphs, observing your appearance.

“What?” You ask, hesitating to step closer.

“I like the color.”

You look down at your sweater, unknowingly having sported a blue in the exact same shade as his armor. You hide your gaze in your chest, mumbling a half-amused, “Oh.”

“It signifies reliability, did you know that?” He asks.

You still don’t meet his gaze, but smile. Makes sense.

“It is very fitting for you.” He finishes.

You finally look up at him. For you? He believes you to be reliable? “Oh, th-thank you.” You stutter, feeling truly flattered by his compliment.

His visor tilts silently back and forth on your features as you step up at him. He notices your freshly irritated eyes.

“Are you-”

“-it’s nothing.” You interrupt, shaking your head.

“I um,” You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to lighten the mood with an obviously forced smile. “I tend to emerge from showers with angry eyes, at least, as of late.”

Paz’s hand surprises you as it reaches up, gently cupping your elbow, so swiftly you’re not even sure he meant to do it.

“Not angry, mesh’la,” He mutters, “sad.”

Your mouth gapes open slightly, not having expected such a remark from him. He seems slightly distressed by his own slip of the tongue as well, immediately tensing.

His mind is reeling, guilt flooding over him like a tidal wave in a storm. He feels as though he crossed a line. He’s supposed to be caring for you, distracting you, not calling you beautiful when you already belong to someone else.

“I’m-”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Both your gazes snap up in the direction of the source.

Standing under an archway, halfway between the entrance of the washrooms and you, is Collin.

Your breath hitches, “Collin.” You breathe out.

Paz’s hand jerks instantly from your elbow, hanging tensely by his side.

Collin says your name questioningly, taking another step towards you. He’s wearing his armor, but his helmet hangs down by his side. Blonde eyebrows furrowed suspiciously at the two of you.

“I said,” he repeats, “what is going on in here?”

“Nothing.” You say instantly, taking a step away from Paz.

Well that was a suspiciously guilty maneuver.

Collin eyes Paz for a moment, whose form hasn’t moved even an inch since Collin interrupted you both. He closes the distance between the two of you, but still stays a generous space away.

“What are you doing down here at this hour?” He questions, eyebrows furrowed tightly together.

“I..I couldn’t sleep.” You say.

“Again?”

Again? Your father died not one week ago, does he really expect you to be sleeping soundly?

“Yes it’s- been difficult to find the right headspace for rest.” You answer. “I thought perhaps a warm shower would help alleviate the uneasiness.”

His eyes flick to Paz before quickly landing back on your own, suddenly morphing his face into one of concern. His posture loosens slightly and he reaches towards you, showing you more affection than he has in months. “Well, are you okay? You don’t look very good.” Collin says.

Your frown deepens, suddenly you feel very offended.

“Yeah? Well I look the way I feel, wise guy.” You snap, startling both of you by your outburst. His hand retreats from your space, moving to clench and unclench by his side.

“I’m sorry,” He scoffs after taking a tense breath, “Have I done something wrong?”

“Collin-” Paz’s voice breaks his role as an audience member to your discussion, polite but still warning in his tone.

“-No, I am not speaking to you.” Collin spits out, “I’m speaking to my girlfriend. My girlfriend who you were getting awfully close to in the privacy of this empty washroom.”

Your heart is thumping in your chest. He’s right, this certainly was not a good look. It was highly irregular for you to be up so early. And here you were alone at an ungodly hour with a man who wasn’t your partner. Kriff, how could you be so stupid? You should have known that Collin would stumble in here at this time, he does early morning flight training every week, today must be his lesson. It must have slipped your mind, or maybe you’d forgotten his schedule. Had he even shown you his schedule?

No. No, he hadn’t. When was the last time you even saw him? Surely a few times a day but had you even shared a moment of substance together since the funeral? You’ve gone to him for comfort yet you can’t remember how any of those interactions went. He dismissed you, or offered you a peck on the forehead before changing the subject.

Come to think of it, how dare he come in here angry with you for anything. If anything, you should be the one who’s angry. Paz was right, where has he been?

“You’re right.” Paz says, shocking you and Collin both, your gaze quickly snapping in his direction. “I shouldn't have reached for her. But I was only trying to comfort her, I swear to you that is all. Regardless, you need to relax.” He speaks calmly, the warning back in his tone.

Collin huffs, taking a menacing step in Paz’s direction. He always was arrogant.

Your eyes widen, “Collin-”

He rasps out his next words in with a snarl, cutting off your attempt to de-escalate the situation. “Listen here, vod-” He spits, but not before being cut off by a startling quick grab to the front of his chest plate, yanking him forward.

Collin’s heels barely graze the floor as he looks directly up at Paz’s visor, who seems to have grown another six inches, the two quite literally helm to helm.

“You do not address me as your vod in such a manner of disrespect.” Paz growls, his voice sending a harsh shiver down your spine, slightly in alarm, slightly in...something else.

Your breath hitches, frozen as you watch the scene unfold. If you’re too frightened to move, you can’t imagine how Collin feels. Although...maybe a small part of you wishes you did.

“Jare’la,” Paz scoffs, shaking his head. “I am your alor’ad. And I do not tolerate a lack of respect. If you are confused about your place, then I will gladly show you where it is. Tayli’bac, vod?” He spits the words out menacingly, challenging Collin to oppose his authority.

“Elek! Elek, alor’ad!” Collin stammers, “N’eparavu takisit!”

Paz huffs, visor staring Collin down a moment longer before releasing him, shoving him back in the process.

He stumbles to catch himself, grabbing onto the side of the sink for leverage. You’ve never seen him look so...cowardly.

He looks to you, taking a moment to gather himself. Your eyes are still wide, mouth agape as you just stare at him in disbelief. He wets his lips with his tongue, seeming to swallow down another remark, eyes darting to Paz before returning to you. “So, that’s the way it is, huh?”

You’re speechless, “I- I don’t..”

You contemplate the severity of the moment, what’s at stake. Your silence is answer enough, you decide, before opting to look down, relinquishing your chance to speak. With it goes your willingness to explain, to try and salvage whatever pathetic excuse of a relationship you thought you had had with him. “I’m sorry, Collin.” You say, unsure of the words as they leave your mouth.

You hear only the sound of heavy breathing. Two sources of heavy breathing, and neither of them are coming from you. Then, a sound akin to that of a growl. You look up to face him again, only to see his focus on the man beside you. Paz looks back at him, unmoving, domineering, daring him to overstep.

Was Collin challenging you, or Paz?

Was Paz simply defending you or...challenging Collin? And for what?

You feel another spike in anxiety, suddenly feeling as though you were observing a mating duel, a challenge over possession of a lioness, a female...not...terribly uncommon in Mandalorian culture, though nonetheless offensive.

“That’s enough.” You whisper, though with enough exertion to be heard by both males.

You see Paz’s visor turn to face you out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t move, keeping your gaze averted to Collin.

He stares Paz down for another moment before meeting your eyes, saying your name with a stiff nod, and uttering a “Goodbye,” before briskly leaving the room.

You let out an exhale once he’s rounded the corner, catching your breath. That was it.

You’ve lost him.

You stare at the empty door, at the ghost of the shadow where he once stood, waiting for the tears to fall. You feel heavy, you feel distressed, but perhaps not anymore than you already had. There’s not a swirl of emotion in your gut nor rising in your throat that compels tears to swim in your eyes again.

You hear your name being called once, twice. The third time, you look up, much higher up than you’d expected to, at the imposing figure now standing directly above you.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly.

You hold his gaze, watching your reflection blinking up at him. He doesn’t move, waiting for your response to his question. Your gaze drifts down slightly and to the side, staring at the plain wall behind him, before reconcentrating your focus.

“What um,” Your voice comes out somewhat both hoarse and mellow, quiet as you continue, “What should we do next?”

------------------------

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Paz was guilt ridden. Surely he could have let the little brat mouth off to him one time to spare you from getting hurt. But no, he just had to go and threaten the kid right in front of you. It was just instinctual. He would have done it without restraint any other time to any other member stepping out of line, but upon reflection, maybe the whole thing was his fault. Collin had walked in on you two nearly close enough to embrace. Of course he was pissed. And then, he degraded him, ordering him into submission right in front of your eyes.

You didn’t blame him. Not in the slightest. I mean, what did Collin expect? He straight up challenged the alor’ad. It was foolish and insulting, and quite honestly Paz wouldn’t have been out of line to clock him then and there. But you suppose he was holding himself back for the sake of your wellbeing, not wanting you to watch your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - get pounded on while you were already in such a state.

“Yes.” You say, emitting a heavy exhale. You really were.

The halls have started filling with armored warriors, the covert finally beginning to come to life with a sunrise shining through the trees and early risers popping up.

“Vizsla!” Someone shouts, the two of you turn to see Stephan jogging towards you.

“Hey,” He says, walking once he reached a comfortable earshot, “We missed you on that perimeter run. Was surprised you didn’t show up, is everything-?”

His voice trails off, visor finally ticking in your direction. He seems a little taken aback by your presence, or rather that you were within Paz’s company.

“Vod’ika,” He finally says. “What are you doing with- uh, I mean, how are you?”

“What am I doing with Paz?” You smile, “You don’t think I could handle a perimeter run, Steph?”

His helmet ticks back in surprise at your banter, “N-no, vod’ika.” He says, looking at Paz and huffing in amusement. “We’ll gladly have you join us on the next one.”

“Sure.” Paz nods.

“So…” Stephan continues with uncertainty, “How-how are you?”

Couldn’t make it thirty seconds in without having that question thrown out at you.

You hesitate, the frown slowly returning to your face. Should you answer truthfully? Lie? How are you?

“I’m…”

You seem stuck on the word. Did you choose a word? What word are you even looking for?

You’re still talking. You remind yourself.

Shit, now you look like you’ve shut down.

You feel a hand rest on your back, blinking forward from your gaze that had somehow been drawn down towards Stephans boots.

“We were just heading to the kitchens.” Paz responds, you tilt your face in his direction without raising your eyes, keeping them glued to the space in front of you, ashamed.

“Okay, yeah.” Stephen says hastily, “Well, uh, Jay made some really good morning muffins, vod’ika, and they’re still warm I bet.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement, offering a pitiful smile, “I’m sure.”

Poor Stephan, it’s not his fault you were like this. He’s just checking in on you, and here you are making him feel bad for asking about your wellbeing. It’s just a question.

Kriff, why are you so weak?

You conceal yourself back in your thoughts, sure that you look absent with glazed over eyes. But you can't bring yourself to care. That’s the weird thing about feeling so desolate, you just don’t have the energy to hide it sometimes.

You hear the foggy exchange of words between the two warriors, simply choosing to retract yourself from the conversation and instead focus your attention on the gloved hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Stephan’s modulator rises to a more upbeat tone before stepping forward and offering Paz a light slap on the arm as he passes, evidently dismissing the two of you to carry on with your business.

Paz’s form shifts to watch Stephan leave before turning to you. “Okay?” He asks.

“Okay.” You nod.

He hums, sounding unconvinced as he lightly nudges you forward again, letting his hand drop from its place on your jumper.

No... come back.

You walk side by side in silence, trying to get him to walk a step ahead of you so you can follow. But anytime your step falters purposefully to give him the lead he slows his own, silently insisting you walk side by side. Instead, he steers your direction with fleeting contacts. A hand pulling your arm, his gloved fingers tapping your shoulder. You’re happy to let him guide you, appreciating the delicate touches in direction.

Feeling a sliver of life breathed into you at each one.

The touches stop far sooner than you need them to upon arrival to your destination. You notice you’re heading towards the mess hall again, feeling discomfort at the idea of seeing more of your vods, or worse, having a repeat of your public meltdown you’d had just a few short hours ago.

You’re more alert now, having picked up on the light buzzing from the dining hall. There’s probably quite a few people out there now. And you’re not sure you’re ready to face another wave of concerned and attentive brothers and sisters.

“Paz-” You say, ready to object, but not before you’re steered off to the side, scarcely missing exposure to the hall full of bustling Mandalorians.

Instead, Paz opens a door and gestures for you to walk through, which you do.

Oh. The kitchen.

You’ve been in here many times, but not often during the day. Jay keeps a tight lockdown on the kitchen, only allowing his apprentice to be in here during the working hours of the covert. He’s got a considerable number of Mandalorians to feed, yet he prefers to tackle the challenge alone. Usually kicking anyone out who pops in to help, scolding them for messing up his rhythm.

He has no problem allowing people to make their rounds of kitchen duty though, but that only consists of cleaning up the space once it’s shut down for the night. Mopping, washing, organizing...he tends to lock up all the good treats and hide away the key, making the task totally not worthwhile for you.

Of course, being the daughter of the unsanctioned Alor and all, you had special privileges. One of them being you could hang around the kitchen without Jay kicking you out every time. He still did, but he gave you more leeway than the others if you stayed out of his way and only snacked on the scraps he wasn’t saving.

The door swings shut behind you and you round the corner, the clink of your armored warrior just behind you.

Whoa, whoa. You stop yourself. Your?

You catch sight of a red Mandalorian viciously attending to something on the stove. “What are you two doing in here?” Jay shouts over his shoulder, turning back to his frying.

Paz looks around the empty kitchen, “I heard a rumor about morning muffins.” The deep rumble of his voice saying the words prompts a breathy giggle from your lips, catching his attention, before he continues to glance around for the treats.

Jay huffs, motioning with his wooden spoon to the corner, “Over there. Take one and get out.”

“Thanks,” Paz says, his hands lightly resting on your shoulders from behind and nudging you forward. “Nice attitude.” He mumbles for your ears, an amused smile still lingering on your lips.

“Nice signet.” Jay scoffs, evidently having heard, “Or lack thereof.”

“Nice apron.”

“Okay- get out of my kitchen.” Jay says, looking up from his dicing.

You surprise yourself by letting out a lively laugh. Paz’s hands tighten over your shoulders at the sudden sound, feeling damn near enamored by Jay for having caused it.

He looks to Jay and gives him a grateful nod, who nods slightly in return, so as not to be caught by your gaze, before returning to his work.

You make your way to the tray of muffins in the corner, boldly sitting down on the couch in front of the fire. Exactly where you and your dad would sit and enjoy the freshly baked cookies or cake made by Jay that morning, the small area being off limits to everyone else in the covert.

Paz is certain Jay would have snapped at them to get away from his personal space if it weren’t for you. You’re sat next to him, gazing at the fire that Jay lights every morning to warm the frigid kitchen.

“For you.” Paz says, handing you a small muffin with a napkin wrapped protectively around it.

You smile at him, accepting the gesture, just allowing it to slowly warm up your fingers in your lap. The movements of the fire captivating your attention as the flames dance in the soft lighting.

“Cyar'ika.” He says softly, the word sending a shiver down your spine. “You really ought to eat something.”

You look to your side again, taking in Paz’s appearance on the tiny couch. Its small size having forced you to sit right up against each other. The leg closest to you is propped up and over the other comfortably, his knee resting elevated slightly above your own.

You wonder if you clink your knee against his own if his hand will slip off it and land on yours.

A silly thought, you think, amusing yourself.

His tilting visor alerts you that you’ve been shamelessly gawking at him. Twice in one day.

“I- um,” You stutter, averting your gaze. “I’m not terribly hungry, Paz.”

He hums, “Well it’s a good thing you’re not terribly hungry because all you’ve got there is a teeny muffin.”

“Yes, it would appear so.” You smile, still making no movement to eat it.

Paz breathes in a slow, contemplative sigh. Guilt starts to flood your senses again, he’s done so much for you today, why can’t you just do this one thing for him?

“Tell you what,” he offers, your eyes rising to meet his visor, “You eat that muffin, maybe have a little bit of tea, and I’ll tell you about the time your vod and I went to Jabba’s Palace.”

Your eyes widen, and you boldly swing your hand down to grasp his arm as you straighten. “The Hutt story?” You choke. “You’ll tell me the Hutt story?”

Paz’s modulator rumbles as he chuckles, knowing he’s got you entrapped by a golden exchange.

He nods, “I’ll tell you the untold and widely sought-after story about the time Devin and I went to visit the Hutts-”

“-Deal!” You squeeze his arm, still gripping tightly from earlier.

“Yeah,” Jay utters, his looming figure now standing directly behind you both, “Kriffing deal.”

“Get out of here.” Paz huffs, shoving Jay back over the arm of the couch. He doesn’t argue, but you see his retreating form adjust the volume settings on his vambrace.

Paz shifts back cheekily with his arms spread around the couch. He gestures to the uneaten muffin on your lap, waiting for you to uphold your end of the deal.

You sigh, unwrapping the baked good. But the thrill of getting to know the story that caused such an uproar in the covert shoo’s away the discomfort, replacing it with a slightly giddy feeling.

You take a bite, looking at him expectantly. He just scoffs, gesturing again to the tiny muffin in your hand. “C’mon, that thing is like the size of a whistle bird, you finish that before you get the story,” He says, with much emphasis on the “before.”

Fair.

You down the muffin faster than you thought you could, much too excited to finally hear the secret tale. You were going to have bragging rights around this place forever. Paz shakes his head at you, lightly laughing, “So that’s all it takes, huh?” He nods to the empty napkin in your hand.

You ignore him, knowing he knows full well the value of this information. Whatever it was that happened when those two visited Jabba’s Palace, Devin had come back damn near afraid of his own shadow. It took months for him to pull himself together. Your vod would literally jump at the sound of an egg cracking open, reaching for his blaster and slipping up on his grasp. It was kriffing hysterical to you and everyone else in the tribe. And you assumed you weren’t really being malicious. Paz had been there too and returned unscathed, and laughed all the same. And even though he teased Devin to no end about it, he swore he’d never tell a soul what happened, so up until this point, nobody knew what it was. But here you were.

Paz turns over his shoulder, “Hey Jay,” He says politely. “How about a cup of tea for your vod’ika?”

“What am I your maid?” Jay retorts.

“You are the cook.”

Jay mutters something under his breath, but you don’t pay him any mind, having heard him fill up a pot of water immediately upon Paz’s request.

You avert your gaze from Paz’s helmet as soon as he turns to face you again. You look to the fire, biting your lip as a smile slowly grows on your face. It crosses your mind that you feel not only okay in this very moment but actually...happy. The fleeting moments of relief you’ve been feeling all morning, small moments of peace jumbled in with all the sadness and the anxiety, were all because of him. This man who you did not even know three hours ago. Who let you cry in his arms, who stood guard outside the washroom while you showered, who defended you, called you sweetheart, made sure you knew he was always there with you. The same man who now sat next to you on the couch you weren’t allowed to sit on in a kitchen you weren’t allowed to be in. Your smile grows wider, and in your peripheral you’re very aware of his visor still staring at you.

“What?” Paz chuckles.

“Nothing.” You giggle, tears gathering in your eyes. But for the first time today, first time all week, forming not in pain but in relief.

“What is it?” He insists, still playful in his tone. His knee nudges you as if to prompt a response.

A tear slips down your cheek and he leans forward instinctively, his hand finding yours in your lap without hesitation. “Mesh’la, what is it?” He asks again, this time void of all silliness, concerned.

You shake your head, your small smile still present, but certainly reflecting more of the emotion you were feeling.

You place your other hand on top of his own that covers yours, trapping his gloved fingers in your two hands, before looking up at him.

“Just, thank you Paz.” You say, admiration and gratitude dripping from your voice.

------------------------

He likes your voice, he decides, it sounds so sweet, like pure honey.

His eyes are lost in yours behind the visor, watching another tear slip down your delicate cheek. He can hear the relief in your voice. The pure relief and admiration. Admiration? Do you feel admiration for him? He sure hopes you do, otherwise you might find it weird that he’s staring at you for so long. Kriff, he should stop staring at you. But look at those eyes. Those wonderfully expressive eyes that aren’t looking angry or sad or pained, but warm. He feels ensnared by your gaze, a light smile trailing your features, a sprinkle of tears sliding down your cheeks. He watches one slip down the shape of your cheek, rounding your nose and lips before forming a teardrop on your chin. He watches it glisten, unable to bear letting it fall. Mindlessly, he raises a gloved finger to catch it.

Your breath hitches at the contact, and his finger hovers under your jaw before sliding up to catch another.

Your eyes flit back and forth along the dark shade of his visor, searching, wondering what his eyes look like, head tilting unconsciously into his glove.

He takes the gesture as permission, slowly lifting his thumb, his palm, his whole hand up against your cheek.

You both feel suspended, his hand frozen caressing your cheek. Your eyes have dried up now, carrying a glow of wonder in them. His head tilts slowly and unknowingly to the side, almost like he can’t hold up the weight of his helmet a second longer.

The sound of approaching footfalls brings you back to reality, Paz’s hand drops from your cheek and your faces turning towards the source that dared to interrupt your moment.

“Geez, no need to cry about it, I’ve got your tea.” Jay quips, perfectly deescalating the tension of the moment. Making it a point to show you he was minding his own business.

“Um, thank you.” You mutter, still coming back to the present.

“It’s sleepytime tea.” Jay says, “Ground with dandisonyl.”

“Dandisonyl?” You ask, more alert, “That stuff is rare and expensive.”

“And strong.” Paz huffs.

“And expensive.” You insist again, looking down at your tea. “Jay, why would you waste this on me?”

He leans down against his forearms, now looming over your shoulders. His smug nature radiating off his posture alone, “Now, and this is just an observation, but you look kriffing tired. And that there,” He gestures to the cup of earthy smelling tea you’ve placed on the table in front of you, “That’s sleepytime tea. And you, vod’ika, of all people, look like you need some serious, quality, sleepytime.”

His statement ends with a pinch to your cheeks, and it’s your turn to aggressively shove him backward, causing Paz to let out a sweet laugh.

“Paz,” You say, looking to the only superior present, “He wasted good, expensive herbs on me. That stuff can be used medicinally.” You say with reprimand in your voice.

Paz surprises you by shrugging, “He kind of did use it medicinally.”

“Oh, alor’ad.” You chastise, using his official title to remind him of his role here.

He shrugs, using his whole body for the movement, before picking up your cup and placing it back in your hands. “I suppose you’re right, alor’ika.” He teases, “So you’d better drink it all so as not to let it go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of the tea. With your nose nestled into the cup you miss the silent exchange of approval Paz gives Jay.

Readjusting your position so that you’re facing the fire again, you turn your head towards Paz, taking another sip of your tea, it is surprisingly good. “Get on with the story then.” You command, grinning at your victory.

“Okay.” Paz says, grunting as he adjusts himself to sit comfortably once again on the small couch, opting this time to keep one arm swung over behind your head. You smile in content, looking down sheepishly at your tea and having a bit more.

“Well, it all started on the ship. I mean before we even got to Tatooine. Devin, being the utreekov that he is, forgot to bring the kriffing-...”

You listen intently to his story. He’s using his hands as he talks, passionate and perhaps a little dramatic. He’s taking extra care to include all the details, probably indulging in the fact that you and, undoubtedly, Jay, are paying him your absolute, undivided attention. You sip at your tea, the taste warm and comforting alongside Paz’s sweet voice. Your eyes are getting heavier, and you blink at the burning feeling stinging your eyes from the light of the fire, deciding that you’ll be able to listen better with your eyes closed, and gently placing the empty mug on the table.

“So, finally we get to Jabba’s palace. And Devin’s already a nervous wreck after that encounter with the Trandoshans, and-”

His voice carries a hint of thrill in it. You wonder if he feels exhilarated in finally getting to tell this story. Your lips twitch slightly, content that he’s trusting you with it.

Feeling heavier on one side, you allow your head to swing slightly in his direction, snuggling more into the embrace of the couch.

You notice his words trailing off, realizing you weren't paying much attention. Hearing only the sounds of the crackling fire in front of you, you slowly force your eyes open.

Paz’s head is turned down as much as it can in his position. And though you can’t see his visor, you’re certain he’s staring at you.

“Keep talking.” You mutter, resting your head back again.

You hear the sweetest breath of a chuckle sound from beneath his helmet, which you suddenly realise you're very near to. “Close your eyes again.”

“No, I wanna listen to the story.” You mumble, your low energy blending the words together.

“You can only evade sleep for so long sweetheart.”

“We’ll see.” You challenge, eyes fluttering closed against your will.

“Yes, we will.” He whispers. He’s silent another moment, admiring you and your peaceful expression with a smile on his face before carrying on with the story, speaking much more softly than before. The light humming of his voice is soothing, and you notice it growing quieter and quieter, yet the feelings of security and warmth and relief all stay with you.

Paz looks towards the fire as he speaks, trying to draw out the story as long as he can. He feels the light weight of your head resting against his shoulder, not daring to move a muscle and disturb your peaceful slumber.

It’s still early in the morning. Behind the fireplace and through the density of the thick wall, Paz can hear the covert coming to life. And while their days are just starting, yours has finally come to a peaceful end. He listens to your serene breathing through the long pauses he takes in his story, knowing that really, he’s only telling it to Jay now, who notably moves through the kitchen swiftly and with as little clicking and clanking as he can muster.

“-And so, that’s what happened on Tatooine.” Paz whispers, looking at your parted lips and lightly closed eyelids.

The fire casts a harmonious glow on your face, making your features look warmer, livelier, serene.

You look utterly angelic.

He remembers how you crumbled in his arms not five hours ago, pained and distressed and lonely. You sought him out even though you didn’t know him, not knowing how much he’d admired you from afar. To see your normally light and radiant face masked with such despair, he couldn’t bear to see it again.

He watches your sleeping form take a staggering breath, your body relaxing into its position, nudging your face further into where it fell on his shoulder. He dares to let the arm wrapped around the couch lower slightly, so that it rests comfortingly around your form.

“Sleep, cyar’ika,” He whispers. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He hopes his silent promise is enough to soothe your sleeping form, listening to your breathing even out to a more peaceful rhythm.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need.”

---------------------

Translations:

Alor - chancellor Vod’ika - little sister Osik - shit Di’kut - idiot Jare’la - stupidly oblivious of danger / asking for it. Alor’ad - captain Tayli’bac, vod? - Do you understand, mate? (menacing) Elek! Elek, alor’ad! - Yes! Yes, captain! N’eparavu takisit! - I’m sorry (lit. I eat my insult) Alor’ika - little leader Utreekov - fool, idiot (lit. emptyhead)

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a/n two: They both think the other person’s voice sounds like pure honey.. 🥺

also we need more Paz x reader content on Tumblr my dudes.

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Taglist: @wandsmith 💖

#paz vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #paz x reader #the mandalorian #soft!paz #mandalorian x reader #angst

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years

Text

Under The Weather

Some pointless fluff that's been floating around my head for a few days. Also on ao3 🙂

It’s not the usual alarm clock that wakes her this time - the tauntingly peaceful melody that she now associates with being ousted from a dream every morning.

In fact, Emily is hardly awake. Her eyes are still sealed shut, she’s still nestled under the covers because the thought of moving is almost unbearable. Even in her sleep induced haze, the only thing she’s fully aware of is just how shitty she feels, like every part of her body has somehow teamed up against her in unison. What started last night as a subtle headache is now accompanied by a persistent rawness in the back of her throat. The same pain has crept in to settle behind her eyes, and now radiates around her head, like a pair of gnarled hands wrapped and clenched around her brain. But that isn’t the only thing - everything just hurts. Her limbs feel like lead, her throat is now on fire, lips cracked and chapped from the winter air. Her mouth is dry as dust as she grapples for the glass of water Aaron had left on her nightstand hours ago - something he’s done since they moved in together.

Cracking one eye open takes monumentally more effort than it should. The wind rattles against the windows, whistling through the bitterly cold February morning and Emily groans at the prospect of even moving from the safety of their warm bed. A glance at the clock tells her it’s 5:40. Aaron’s side is empty, the sheets cooled, but she can hear the steady pulse of the shower, see the steam curling out from under the door. The cloying pull of sleep is too consuming, the glass of water all but forgotten as Emily groans. The notion of having to get up in less than a half an hour is making her stomach roil in protest.

Instead, she burrows herself deeper into the blankets, wishing somehow this day would somehow restart itself. Her eyelids are too heavy to stay open, even though the looming reality of her alarm hovers over her, along with the daunting challenge of making it through the day. Emily remembers the stack of unfinished case reports left on her desk from yesterday, abandoned in the wake of remembering Ava’s ballet class just a few minutes too late to be early for once. That’s about the time the headache started, subtle enough to temporarily ignore as their daughter happily chattered away in the backseat, little legs kicking against the leather upholstered seat - a story about unicorns and fairies, one Emily could probably retell herself she’s heard it so many times. If only she knew then.

The next thing she’s aware of is Aaron bending down to kiss her awake, fresh from the shower and half dressed in an undershirt, his skin still damp as he murmurs good morning . The whiff of eucalyptus soap and his mouthwash only makes her dizzy as she all but pushes her husband away from her with an ill attempted protest against his affection. “Five more minutes,” she croaks. “S’tired.”

“Sweetheart?” Aaron questions even though he doesn’t have to. He’s no stranger to her indifference to early mornings, the way her arms wind around his neck to pull him close most days when he wakes her with the same kisses, the same sweet nothings in her ear. On the rare occasion when they have more time, he ends up back in bed with her, making the most of a few precious moments. Those mornings are his favorites - the ones where he gets to press her into the mattress, get her leg over his shoulder, seal his mouth against hers to muffle the moans he hasn’t grown tired of hearing even years after he first heard them. But this is different. He figures it out immediately, knuckles brushing against her flaming cheek, skin clammy under his touch.

“Hmmph?” Emily shrugs out from under his touch, the cool hand on her burning forehead a reminder of just how awful she feels. “Five more minutes and I’ll get up.”

Aaron laughs softly, already reaching for his phone on the dresser. “Not a chance.”

“I’ll be fine in a half hour.” It’s a futile attempt; Aaron knows her better than she knows herself by now. Emily doesn’t get sick often, maybe once every few years. But when she does, it hits hard and fast, rendering her inherently useless for a day or two, and they’re all a little thrown off kilter without her. Even though her eyes are closed she can practically see him making arrangements - school dropoff and pickup, soccer practice for Jack, ice skating lessons for Ava. It’s also a Wednesday, the one day a week he spends mostly in meetings as unit chief. It’s the day she picks up more slack around the house, handles the after school activities in addition to her own professional responsibilities. It’s a routine they’ve perfected through trial and error over time.

“You weren’t yourself last night,” he sinks down beside her, his weight dipping the mattress down as he pushes some hair from her face. “You barely touched your dinner. You fell asleep with the light on,” he adds pointedly, pressing his lips to his wife’s forehead for confirmation. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Do not,” she argues. It’s becoming harder and harder to challenge him, a battle she knows she’ll ultimately lose. There’s no way he’ll let her out the door let alone into the BAU at this point. Despite the sweat that trickles down her back, her teeth chatter together.

Aaron wraps her into his arms, aware of how she melds against his chest as she seeks the warm comfort of his body. “Do too.” His tone is light, which only manages to frustrate her more. “And you’re staying home today. Don’t even try to argue with me.”

Emily attempts to pull away from his embrace. “I have a meeting too, you know. Jack has practice and Ava -”

“Has ice skating. I know, Sweetheart.” Aaron gently pushes her back down, tucking the blankets around her. “I know their schedule. And yours. We’ll manage.” But he’s already reaching for his phone, dialing a number he knows by heart.

“Who are you calling?” She asks weakly, succumbing to his insistence. The sky has lightened to a shade of dark blue instead of inky black, the first traces of the winter morning starting to peek through the curtains.

“I’m texting Garcia. If she can take Ava this afternoon, I can get Jack to soccer after my last meeting.”

Emily grumbles while he taps out a message as she runs through her day ahead. There are her own meetings, of course, a slew of chores around the house waiting when she gets home, all the little things that accumulate during the week without fail, over and over. Aaron can almost read her mind as he gets dressed, disappearing into the depths of their closet to pluck a suit from the rack on his side. “Things won’t implode without you, Em. We can survive one day.”

From her place in bed, Emily watches him dress, securing the sleeves of his dress shirt, the jacket stretching across his broad shoulders over the crisp fabric of his shirt. Some days, she can’t believe they’ve come this far. Seven years of marriage has brought its fair share of ups and downs, most recently an ill-timed miscarriage in the days before Christmas. She hadn’t been too far along - ten weeks - but December 23rd was spent at her doctor, Aaron’s hand wrapped around hers as the news was broken, their eyes glued to the ultrasound screen. They hadn’t been trying at all. It was a surprise neither of them expected, which only seemed to worsen the blow when it abruptly ended. Emily had been the picture of composed, smiling through her grief on Christmas Eve, distracted by Ava and Jack’s excitement, the endless mountain of gifts to smuggle from their closet under the tree, only to spend the early hours of Christmas morning crying in his arms until he rocked her to sleep. She closes her eyes, wills herself not to think of it. It’s still a little too soon.

When he’s fully dressed, traces of cologne lingering in the air, Aaron gathers a box of tissues and fills a glass of water, setting both down next to Emily. “I’ll bring you some toast before I leave. You need to eat something.”

“You need to wake -”

“I’m already -”

“Mommy?” The voice outside the door tells them at least one more Hotchner is already awake. Aaron drops a quick kiss on Emily’s head, frowning when he notes how warm she is. He makes a mental note to bring some ibuprofen with the toast and opens the door just a crack to find their daughter on the other side, fully dressed, not a hair out of place.

“Where’s Mommy?” He’s met with the round, concerned eyes that belong to Ava. Even at six, she could be Emily’s clone, with sleek dark locks and the same pale skin. Ava is precocious, sharp as a tack yet sensitive, hesitant to trust but loyal to a fault. Her arrival in the world had been dramatic, at one point downright terrifying for a few minutes, shoulder dystocia to blame. Aaron had turned ghostly pale as the doctors rattled off medical jargon he’d only ever seen dramatized on primetime television. Yet it was that same efficiency and urgency that ultimately brought their daughter safely into the world a short time later. The moment she was placed in his hands, Aaron was completely smitten, his world forever changed.

“Mommy isn’t feeling well, Ava.” Aaron explains with an abundance of patience, his tone soft and reassuring. In the days after Christmas, following the miscarriage, Ava had been confused when Aaron took Emily’s usual place at the new, massive dollhouse from Santa, doing his best to display the same enthusiasm his wife so effortlessly showed. He’d uttered the same words - Mommy isn't feeling well - when she protested, complaining about his doll handling skills and seeming inability to make their hair look half as good as Emily did. Even though his placations held an entirely different meaning then, Ava questioned him relentlessly. Telling a version of the truth had been harder than he anticipated, for more reasons that one.

“Is Mommy okay?” Ava asks, persistent as ever.

“She’s fine, honey. Just the flu. Remember when you had it in Kindergarten? You got to stay home while Jack went to school. Mommy and I took turns staying home with you? You got to eat popsicles in bed and watch TV during the day?”

Ava nods, not fully convinced as she tries to poke her head further into their bedroom. “I guess.”

“That’s what Mommy has, honey. Grown-ups get sick too. So Daddy is going to drive you to school. Aunt Penelope is going to take you to ice skating lessons this afternoon.”

Ava squeals with delight at the mention of Garcia, clapping her tiny hands together, only to have the expression melt off her face seconds later. Then she frowns. “But Daddy,” she whispers slowly, her resemblance to Emily and similar mannerisms uncanny, as if profiling him even at the tender age of six. “You don’t know the Good Morning song.”

Aaron checks his watch and pinches the bridge of his nose as he peers into the hallway. Jack’s bedroom door is still firmly closed, indicating his son is most likely still sound asleep. Waking him is the next battle, one of his least favorite tasks as of late. “What song, Ava?” He sighs, not missing the fleeting touch of amusement that crosses Emily’s face from across the room, the softest of laughs. Even in her current state, pale and tired, clearly more than under the weather, Aaron thinks she’s stunning.

“Mommy and I always sing the Good Morning song on the way to school.” Ava folds her arms across her chest, tapping her foot against the floor. “If you don’t know the words -” Her dark eyes double in size, widening impossibly as she stubs her toe with disappointment. “How can you drive me to school?”

“Honey -”

“Mommy knows all the words.”

“Ava - “

“Daddy.” She challenges, sticking her lower lip out in a whiny pout. Aaron knows what’s ahead. Even though Ava has him completely wrapped around her tiny finger, their daughter absolutely adores her mother, never missing an opportunity to steal a few quiet moments together. He often finds Ava curled in Emily’s lap, listening to a story, or playing dress up with some of Emily’s old clothes. Aaron has caught a few misplaced tubes of lipstick hidden in her dress-up box, ones Emily thought she lost long ago. He’s seen the pictures she draws, the way Ava always draws Emily next to her in each one. It tugs on every single one of his heartstrings, every single time.

“Mommy will teach me,” he assures her, crouching down to her level, bringing her to lean on his knee. “Daddy will do his best to know all the words before I take you to school.” He ruffles Ava’s hair as she beams, seemingly appeased by his effort. “Can you be my special helper this morning and wake Jack for me?”

Her face brightens instantly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face at the thought of what she’s being asked to do - something that, most of the time, she’s actively told not to do. “Okay!”

Aaron grimaces slightly as Ava skips off down the hall. There’s a finite window of time until he’s left to deal with Jack’s morning moodiness, exacerbated by his sister’s surprise wakeup call. But it’s worth the few extra minutes he’ll get to spend with his wife. Emily is now fully awake, looking even more miserable than she had moments before.

“You’re on your own for the good morning song,” she rasps sarcastically. Her voice is hoarse, even as she tries to smile. “Couldn’t sing it for you if I tried.”

“I think I’m going to take her for donuts. Those strawberry frosted ones she loves?” He slips back in bed beside Emily, pulling her into his arms once again. “Distraction at its finest.”

“The ones I love,” Emily reminds him, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Good luck.”

“Right. Hopefully she’ll forget all about it.” Then he remembers just who he’s talking about - a miniature version of the woman he somehow got lucky enough to call his wife, instantly realizing how wrong he is. He’s a goner; he won’t hear the end of this for days.

“I doubt it. But you can give it a try.” Emily snuggles into his chest, savoring their final few minutes of peace.

…

Winter sun streams through the windows, casting the bedroom in a mix of shadows and blinding light.

She isn’t sure how much time has passed - an hour could easily be three, maybe five. Sleep has consumed her, on and off all morning. Yet she’s uncomfortable, alternating between throwing the covers off and disappearing into them, unable to seek enough warmth as she reaches for one more blanket. Everything still hurts, and topped off by a congestion that settles deep in her lungs, rattles her chest with every cough. She almost feels worse now than she did earlier, if that’s even possible.

The house is quiet, so she hears the subtle rumbling of the garage opening, the soft creak of the door leading into the house. Emily smiles to herself - she’d recognize his footsteps anywhere as he makes his way through the living room. He’s undoubtedly picking up wayward shoes and toys along the way, most likely grumbling about the clutter. He’d never admit it (even if she knows it to be true) but it’s one of his favorite tasks. The mess is a reminder of what they’ve built over time, that sometimes things work out just as they were meant to. Even if it means their house will never be spotless.

She pries one eye open as he shoulders through the bedroom door, slipping his suit jacket off to drape over a chair. “You could have stayed at work.” Emily isn’t surprised at all. She knows him sell enough by now.

“I know.” And while Aaron is fully aware of that, there was never a chance he wasn’t going to come home to tend to her. He stayed at the BAU long enough to get things squared away, arranging plans for the kids, and delegating tasks as needed before making a hasty exit. And now, only a few hours later, he’s back. He checks her forehead, refreshes the glass of water on the nightstand and tosses some tissues into the trash. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Emily shifts to make room beside her. “Worse than before, if that’s possible.” She sighs a little when he wraps her into his embrace. Her head falls against his chest on its own accord. “Ava and Jack?”

“Garcia is taking Ava to ice skating. She’s taking her out for ice cream afterward.” He gets a hand in her hair, rocks her back and forth a little bit until she relaxes fully against him. Almost.

“What about dinner?” Emily mumbles, stifling a cough into her fist. It rattles within her chest, reverberating through her ribs. “She needs real dinner, Aaron.”

“I think she’ll live without vegetables for one night, Emily.”

She’s too tired to argue. “Jack?”

“Dave offered to take him to soccer,” Aaron says, patting her back through the last of the coughing fit and grappling for the water glass on the table. “It’s all taken care of.” His hands are soothing, gentle and strong against the sore, stiff muscles. “You sound terrible.”

Emily pointedly ignores him. “What about you?”

“I cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. Tomorrow too,” he adds with a wink, taking her hands in his own when she starts to object. “I’m making it my mission to get you better.” He shows her the package of popsicles he’d stopped for on the way home, tosses the bag away to the floor. “And I got some of these. Just for you.”

The soft laughter that comes from her is accompanied by yet another hacking cough. It’s the little things he does that are the most thoughtful - a pit stop to the grocery store in the middle of a work day is just one example. “Sounds like you have quite the job ahead of you.” But she’s eyeing the popsicles - it’s the first thing that’s sounded appealing all morning.

“You’re not an easy patient,” Aaron chides as he hands her a cherry flavored one, taking a lemon flavored for himself. “One of the worst I’ve ever dealt with, actually.” He flicks her nose lovingly.

“Is that so?” The cool chill of the frozen ice against her lips and throat is a temporary relief, a moment of reprieve. She doesn’t even notice when a little piece of it breaks off to leave a tiny red stain on the sheets. “You’re no picnic yourself, you know.”

It’s his turn to laugh, because she’s right. He’s just as stubborn, the art of rest and healing lost on them both. “I feel called out.”

“It’s because I’m right,” she quips. And she is.

Emily sleeps fitfully in his arms, only waking up once as the sun sets over the trees in the distance. When her eyes drift open, he has the television remote in one hand, the other anchoring her across his chest. “What time is it?” She mumbles, blinking furiously as her eyes adjust to the dim light.

“Close to five.” He kisses her, rocks her a little to wake her up. “You’ve been sleeping for hours.” Aaron sounds almost pleased that she finally got some solid rest. “I’m going to make you some soup. And don’t tell me I don’t have to.” He untangles himself from her, somehow without disturbing her comfort within their bed. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

His fingers brush across her cheek; she’s not as hot to the touch this time. Emily leans into his hand, curling her fingers around his wrist.

“Thank you for coming home.” She hardly sounds any better, certainly doesn’t feel it either. But having him there somehow makes it slightly more bearable, an unexpected silver lining to all of this. And the reverence in his eyes, the same one she sees every time he looks at her, confirms the fact that he’d do it without question. Another example of the unconditional love he’d promised years before when they exchanged vows in Dave’s backyard.

“There’s nowhere else I should be, Sweetheart.”

Four days later, Aaron wakes up with the same aching muscles and raw throat, barely able to keep his eyes open as a new week awaits them. Emily is only more than happy to return his favor.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x prentiss #domestic hotchniss #happy hotchners #pointless plotless fluff

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koreanmadeingreece · 3 years

Text

Why, why, why (11)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). OKAY FINAL CHAPTER PEOPLE I’M EXCITED!!

Warnings: a little bit of smuuuut but not much hahah

Word count: 2K

Part 11/11 First / Previous

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (thank you for staying with me till the very end!! <3

You mentally slapped yourself in the face and, after a pep talk from Taeyong, you were ready to get dressed and go. It was Saturday, so you didn’t have any obligations or classes, and probably neither did he. It wasn’t his turn to help with the movie night, Taeyong told you. You thought he’d have returned home by then, that he couldn’t have stayed out all night, but apparently you were wrong. You seemed to be wrong an awful lot of times lately, you thought. Taeyong had told you where his house was, yet he wasn’t in. Or he wasn’t answering the door. Considering the state he left you the previous night, it would make sense not to go back home.

The next thing you could do was call the friends that you knew he had. You sat at Yuta’s doorstep and called Johnny first, because he seemed like the most reasonable option among the ones you knew. “Hey. Don’t say my name. Is he there?”

“Hi. He came here for a while last night, but he left early in the morning. I didn’t ask. He didn’t seem to be in a right state of mind, and I assume you had to do everything about it.”

“Yeah. You couldn’t be more accurate,” you replied.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to find him first.”

“Isn’t he at home?” Johnny wondered.

“Apparently not. Any idea of where he could be?”

“Check Mark’s house.” With that word, he gave you Mark’s number, which you immediately texted.

You: You don’t know me, but is Yuta there? Johnny gave me your number.

Mark: Y/N, right?

You: Yeah. So, he’s there.

Mark: He was, but he just left. He didn’t say where he’d go.

You: You’ve got to be kidding me. Anyway, thanks.

Mark: If you’re looking for him, just make sure you’re doing it for a good reason.

You: Don’t worry, I am.

You cursed at the universe for not letting you see him. As you sat on the steps, you leaned forward and put your head between your legs. You needed to calm down. You needed to find him. You had to put an end to this.

The safest thing you could do was wait for him exactly where you were. You knew he’d eventually show up, so you got comfortable and decided to spend the entire day there. Thankfully it wasn’t too cold, and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain. You took your phone and scrolled through your tumblr account, hoping that your mind would relax for a while.

After about forty minutes of endless scrolling, with your body practically melting on the doorstep, you felt someone coming your way and you scooted away to let them get into the building. You hadn’t realized that the person standing next to you was no other than Yuta.

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

You lifted your head up. You panicked as soon as you saw him and got up, standing right in front of him. “I didn’t expect things to turn out this way, but here we are.”

“I went to your place today, but you weren’t there. I assume you were here all this time, judging by how sleepy you look.” He paused. “Come in.” He took out his keys and led you in the apartment. His place was beautiful. It wasn’t huge, considering he was only a student, but the decoration was unbelievable, and he also had it pretty clean.

“I came here first thing in the morning. I left my house around the time you probably left Mark’s.”

“You called Mark? Wow, I didn’t know you’d care so much about this.” He was looking straight into your eyes, his gaze piercing you, yet at this moment he looked away. He was…embarrassed? You wanted to talk to him, but he beat you to it once more. “Look, the way things are right now, I can’t do many things. I assume you know how I feel, considering that you’re here and that Taeyong probably told you. You’re in love with another guy and I thought I could handle it, at least until I saw you like that.”

“Yuta, I-”

“No. Let me finish. Y/N, I’m in love with you. I don’t know how it happened, how I got to this point, but it’s true. I know you’re committed to someone else, but I just have to get this off my chest.”

“Yuta, wait-”

“Just let me say this. I can’t believe what’s going on because I was the one who brought it to myself. My ego didn’t let me be nice to you and get to know you in time, so it was only natural that I’d lose you. I know that this changes everything, and you probably won’t want to see me for a while, but you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Your eyes,” he paused, and you managed to see one little smile forming on his lips for a moment, “they made me fall in love with you in the first place. You don’t know how many times I wanted to break his face whenever I saw you with him, but I knew he wasn’t at fault. He was good to you, so I had no say in this. I want you to be mine, Y/N.” He stopped talking and looked towards you, eyes watered, ready to cry.

“Yuta, shut up,” you said, and watched his face literally explode.

“I tell you all that and you-”

“I broke up with him.”

“What? Why? But, yesterday,” he couldn’t believe it.

“I ran outside to find you as soon as you left, but it was too late. I couldn’t bear the thought that I was the reason your smile faded away. Yuta, I’d do anything to see you smile again,” you said. He wasn’t moving. He was waiting for you to explain everything to him, why you did what you did. “I liked Jonghyun, and I think I stayed with him because I thought I couldn’t be with you. That night at my house, after we went out, I got scared. I knew I couldn’t trust myself around you, so I tried to focus on my relationship. Apparently, that only made it more difficult for me to realize that I’m in love with you.”

“You’re,”

“I’m in love with you, Yuta. I want to be around you, I want to spend time with you, hell, I know I would’ve kissed you that night if Taeyong had let us. I tell you bad jokes just to see you smile.”

“Your jokes aren’t that bad,” he smiled and took one step towards you. You read his movements and came closer to him as well. Moments later, you finally did what you couldn’t before. Your lips against his, it was the softest, but at the same time most passionate sensation you’d ever felt. You were in love with each other, and it was all you ever needed. You deepened the kiss, taking the time to savor the feeling of being so close to him without restrictions. You were young, you were in love, and you could enjoy it all you wanted.

You broke the kiss and looked at him to see if the same thing was on his mind, but you got your answer from his look. You took his hand and led him inside, only to stop and realize that you had no idea how the layout of his house was. He laughed and took the lead, showing you the way to his room. You found yourselves standing next to the bed, awkwardly taking each other’s clothes off. Your shirt came out first, then his, and then your pants. He stopped for a second, only to look at you.

“I’ve seen this sight before, and it hurt me that it wasn’t my hands that touched you. Having you so close to me like this takes my breath away.”

You placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m so sorry, Yuta.” You pressed your body against his, without it being sexual. You just wanted to let him know you were with him and you weren’t going anywhere.

“I want you to be mine.” He kissed you once more, taking off your bra. He softly placed you on the bed, his body on top of you, kissing your neck and your collarbones. He got up only for a second, to get your panties off you. You gently pulled him close, as he was only a breath away from finally being yours. His hand roamed on your body, finding its way to your clit, a finger entering your folds, and then a second one.

“Yuta, I want you,” you moaned, showing him that you were ready.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, and you didn’t know why. You liked how much he respected you, but you couldn’t even imagine a world where you wouldn’t want this.

“More than ever.”

He reached out to his nightstand and took a condom, rolling it on his length. He came on top of you, and with a gentle motion he was inside of you. You couldn’t believe how you stayed away from him for that long. He started moving in a slow pace. “Y/N,”

“Yuta,” you moaned his name as he brought you closer to your release.

You felt so close to him at that point. You had your release at the same time as his. He got up and disposed of the condom, then came back to the bed and laid next to you.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he laughed. “Why are you here, in bed, with me?” he asked.

“Maybe because you’re all I ever wanted, you idiot.” You placed your hand on top of his stomach, your head on his chest. His hands were wrapped around you, and you spent the entire afternoon in bed, bodies intertwined as if you’d never let go.

“You know, I wanted our first time to be special. If it ever happened, at least. I had no idea you’d come here, or that we’d end up like this,” he said.

“It was special. Every moment we spend together is special to me, Yuta. I don’t know how you didn’t see it earlier.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t really help me, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You placed a soft kiss on his chest.

“So, are we, like, together now?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how embarrassed he was of the entire situation.

“Do you not want to?” you teased and lifted your head, only to watch him blush in seconds. “I’m kidding. Yes, we are. I really want that.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Don’t let go of me ever again, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Bonus scene:

The gang was all at your house. Your friends, Taeyong’s friends, everyone was trying to fit on the couch and on the pillows you had on the floor. You had decided to invite everyone over after everything was cleared up, even though you didn’t have the time to fill them in besides Taeyong. When Chan, BamBam and Yugyeom saw that Yuta opened the door of your house were shocked, but didn’t say anything, until they saw you approaching and resting your hand on his waist.

“What the fuck did we miss?” Chan asked you, and you chuckled.

“Probably a lot,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you turned to Yuta and kissed him on the lips in front of them. “See, I can do that now.”

“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re using me to impress people.”

“Oh, and wait till you see his navel piercing,” you said, completely ignoring him, and leaving Chan in a state of shock at the same time.

Johnny and V expected this to happen, so they weren’t that shocked when they saw. After a while, everyone got comfortable, and Yuta decided to put a French comedy. He knew how much you liked them anyway, and all of you needed something to relax. You brought popcorn and sat next to Yuta at the floor, seeing how betrayed Chan was that he hadn’t already heard the details from you. He only settled down when you promised you’d tell him later that night.

It was chaos, but it was your chaos. Your life. And it was a life you cherished.

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Puppy love.

summary: Harry finally makes his lover’s wishes come true when they adopt a dog together.

word count: 2.2k

based on this request:

“please could you write a cute domestic puppy piece? Maybe just lazy day / taking their pup for a walk 🥺 and maybe y/n is pregnant and the puppy is super protective”

a/n: send me more ideas pls, i’m in a writing mood but idk what to write haha

you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Usually when people decide to adopt a dog, they’re always secretly looking for a puppy, thinking it’d be easier to handle rather than an older dog. It was quite sad, to be honest. There were dozens, if not hundreds of animals looking for a home, waiting to be adopted and it wasn’t fair people ignored big dogs with the excuse that they could be aggressive. Well, at least it to Y/N, it wasn’t fair. A dog was something she’s been wanting for a while. And was also the one thing Harry has been unable to give her. Tight schedules, interviews, traveling and touring were a few reasons why they haven’t adopted a pet, leaving it as the only desire Y/N had that Harry was yet to fulfill.

But today was the day. Y/N has finally convinced Harry and they were on their way to the shelter, ready to meet as many dogs as they could with the hope of finding the one. She wasn’t looking for anything in specific, telling herself she’d go with an open mind.

“We can take one, love.” Harry remained her when they went out of the car, intertwining their fingers as they walked inside of the building. He knew the moment they walked in, his girlfriend would be bawling her eyes out because she can’t take every single one of the dogs home with them.

“This is the best day of my life.” She whispered in excitement and Harry chuckled at the way her eyes light up.

“Oh, evening. What can I do for you?” A middle aged woman spoke from behind her desk, offering them a friendly smile while pushing her glasses.

“We’re here to—”

“We’d like to adopt.” Y/N interrupted him, squeezing his hand.

The woman’s smile grew bigger as she stood up from her chair, taking a set of keys from her desk. “Alright. Follow me, please.” She gestured the door that was a couple of steps from where they were standing and started walking, Harry and Y/N just behind her. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No. We, uh, we’d like to look around for a bit, if that’s okay.” Harry said.

“That’s fine, you can take your time.” She smiled at them then opened the door, revealing dozens of dogs in every color and every size. The animals started barking and jumping in their places. Y/N’s eyes filled with instant tears when she saw they had them in cages.

She sniffed and Harry looked down at her, concerned. He furrowed his eyebrows then squeezed her hand, trying to soothe her. “Thank you.” He said to the woman before passing through her and entered the room. For a moment he felt slightly overwhelmed for all the barking and noise the dogs were making, but he quickly recovered when Y/N let go of his hand to kneel in front of a Pomeranian. “He’s cute.”

“His name is Barry, oh my god.” She practically squealed as she read the little card that was attached to the dog’s cage. “Harryyy.” Y/N practically dragged the words, too excited to care.

“He arrived last month.” The woman commented from behind.

“Hi, baby. What a good boy”

Harry started to walk around the room, observing a few dogs himself. He was obviously going to let her pick their new pet, being okay with whatever she desired. But look around wouldn’t hurt either. They spent a little time apart, but Harry was still able to hear Y/N’s squeals as well as his name being called at least a hundred times whenever she knelt in front of another dog.

He smiled as small Chihuahua started barking at him. The little fella was so small it could easily fit on Harry’s big hand, and he knew his baby would love it so he called for her.

“You like this one?” She asked, smiling at the dog. “Her name’s Pippa. Oh my god, who picks their names? I’m gonna cry.”

“A few volunteers like to name them. They come a few times a week.”

Y/N nodded at the woman, returning her vision at Harry. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know. You choose, baby.” He smiled sweetly at her.

“Okay. Come see this one, I was just with him when you called me.” She took his hand in hers and pulled from him gently. Harry let her lead him to whatever part of the room she previously was and his eyes winded when he saw a beautiful Siberian husky laying on the floor.

The dog itself looked majestic in his opinion. It was a big ball of fur with a pair of beautiful, crystal blue eyes that were looking directly at him. “His name’s Thor. He’s so adorable, isn’t he?”

“Ah, I see you found Thor. Poor thing’s been looking for a home for quite some time now. A few people come by and see him but never adopt him.”

“Why wouldn’t someone want him?”

“Big dogs aren’t always practical, Sir.”

Harry pouted unconsciously. “I know he’s large, but look at him.” His girlfriend made puppy eyes at him, and he could tell she was trying to hold it together after hearing no one wanted to adopt Thor.

“He’s perfect.” He turned to the woman. “We’d like to take him with us, please.”

“You don’t want to discuss it first?”

“No need. He’s the one.” The green eyed man said confidently.

Thor might look like a whole ass wolf, but in reality he was the biggest softie you’d ever met in your life. In the ride back home, Y/N sat in the back of the car with him, and the dog immediately put his head on her lap, its tail never stopped moving as she scratched its ears. Being almost 2ft, Thor occupied pretty much the whole backseat, leaving Y/N squeezed by the window, not that she minded.

“How are we feeling, uh?” Harry asked after a while.

“He’s perfect. Do you think we have everything we need at home for him? I want him to be comfortable.”

Yesterday they had gone on a trip to the store to buy everything they thought they might need to welcome their new pet into their home. Two bowls for water and food, a couple of collars and leashes to take him out, every toy the store had available and a bed.

The only thing they were lacking was dog food, but it was because they didn’t know which dog they’d take from the shelter and didn’t want to buy the wrong one.

“We can make a quick stop at the store for food, it’s on the way home.”

Y/N smiled, sighing happily while leaning down to hug Thor. She got lost on all its fur, nuzzling him gently. She had read stories about how dogs from shelters often tended to act aggressively at first, as they probably had a bad life before, but she was glad Thor wasn’t like that.

“Thor, come right here!”

The large dog ran outside the house and towards Y/N, thinking he was being summoned to play in the backyard, but was met with its owner standing next to a massive whole in the ground, where Y/N’s freshly planted daisies were supposed to be.

“Jesus Christ, look at you!” She exclaimed. Thor’s white fur was now brown because of all of the dirt he played with. “Daddy gave you a shower yesterday.”

At hearing the word ‘daddy’, Thor started jumping around while barking happily, starting to run around in look for Harry. Suddenly, Y/N wasn’t mad at him anymore for destroying her garden, instead, her heart melted at how adorable he was.

Yeah, Thor could dig a hole in the ground whenever he wanted and he could send all her flowers flying if that’s what made him happy.

Today but six months ago, Harry and Y/N were on their way to the nearest shelter to finally adopt a pet together, not knowing Thor would be entering their life with its chaotic personality and its big heart, changing their life forever. Having a dog together definitely made the couple closer and stronger, as Thor basically became their child.

They celebrated with a day out. The couple took Thor to the dog park, playing with him for hours. The big husky loved to chase Harry around until the both of them were in the ground, the dog lapping his face happily. Sometimes Thor forgets its size and acted like a baby, practically begging Harry to lift him and carry him around.

There were several pictures the next day of them at the park, and the fans were collapsing over the content of Harry with Thor. Y/N thought one specific picture of the three of them walking down the street and back to their car looked so cute that she had to post it with the caption ‘six’, again making everyone die out of love.

One of the things Harry did first thing in the morning was go for a run. Now, before he used to go alone, as he always let Y/N sleep a little longer, but now he had an exercise buddy to take in as many runs he wanted. They were usually out for an hour or so, and when they were back, Thor always went straight to his water bowl first then to his bed to take a nap. However, after he hydrated, he went straight upstairs to the master bedroom.

Harry followed him upstairs, seeing with a smile how the dog jumped on the bed and cuddled with Y/N. Thor was a cuddler, it was no secret, so he going with her wasn’t a surprise for Harry. It was only when Harry sat down beside them and Thor started whining that the man grew confused. Thor put its head on top of Y/N’s stomach, looking at Harry.

“What’s wrong, mate?” He asked as he extended his arm to scratch the dog’s head.

Y/N started moving, fluttering her eyes open and smiling softly when her vision caught her favorite boys there. “Morning.”

“Morning, precious.” Harry smiled. “Just came back from out run.”

“Have you showered yet?” He shocks his head. “Then go, I’ll start breakfast.” She leaned towards him to kiss his check before standing up. “How do you feel about banana pancakes?”

“Sounds delicious.”

Y/N walked out of the room with Thor right behind her. Harry shrugged off Thor’s previously odd behavior and went to take a shower. After he was done, he went downstairs and to the kitchen where he found his girlfriend flipping some pancakes with Thor laying closely by her feet.

Thor’s odd behavior continued for a few days, always wanting to be as close as possible to Y/N and nearly panicking whenever she left his sight. He’d lay by her feet or on her lap if she was on the couch, and he’d follow her around like her personal bodyguard if she was on the move.

At first it was quite adorable, but then Thor started whining whenever Harry wanted to come closer, not allowing him to cuddle with Y/N.

In the seventh day, Y/N started to feel sick, she’d wake up and throw up first thing in the morning. They thought it was just something she ate, thinking it would go away in a few days. But then she started to throw up more and more and Harry started panicking, so they went to the doctor.

“We’ll run a few tests to find out what’s wrong, including a pregnancy one.”

“P-pregnancy?” Harry shuttered.

“I’m not pregnant, doctor.” Y/N assured.

“We might as well be sure.”

The results arrived in just half an hour, but it surely felt like an eternity. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the pregnancy test. He’d be lying if he said a part of him was excited to know whether he has created a new life with the love of his life or not, but he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. And the other part of him was terrified of the possibility of Y/N being pregnant.

When they were finally back with the doctor, Harry held Y/N’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She looked at him and he gave her a smile, assuring her that no matter what the results said, they’d be fine.

“Congratulations, you’ll be parents.” The doctor lifted her head from the papers, offering the both of them a gentle smile. “You’re three months pregnant, what explains the morning sickness you’ve been experiencing.”

Harry sat there in shock, the fact that he was actually going to be a father finally hitting him. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. His head snapped up, his eyes looking for Y/N’s. “You’re gonna be a mum.”

Y/n choked a sob, standing from her place at the same time as Harry and hugged him tightly. He pulled her closer to his chest as he kissed the top of her head, a few tears rolling down from his eyes.

“I guess I’m having your baby, eh?” Now it was Harry’s turn to choke a sob, barely able to speak due all the emotions he was feeling right now.

“Can you believe Thor knew first?” Harry said when they were finally inside of their car again, ready to drive back home.

“What do you mean?”

“Dogs can tell if a woman is pregnant.” He said. “And that would explain why he behaved like he did.”

“Like what?”

“He panicked whenever you weren’t in the room, always followed you around. He even waited for you outside of the bathroom!”

“He just loves me more than he loves you.” She joked.

“Yeah, but he will love our baby even more.”

Our baby.

Didn’t sound that bad, didn’t it?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Impulse: Remedy (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Rookie has really terrible coping mechanisms. Drug use, alcohol, swearing, derogatory language, smoking, mentions of murder(?)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry for the delay lads, for some reason this chapter did not want to be written! As always don’t sleep with your boss and don’t do drugs unless their prescription :P

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->

You were exhausted. You hadn’t slept for more than an hour after leaving Javier’s apartment. Not for lack of trying, you thought your previous activities would have worn you out. But no. You were too scared to sleep, not wanting to deal with any nightmares that might occur so you sat on your dusty old couch, drank a vat of coffee and waited until the rest of the city woke up.

You cursed under your breath when you saw Steve’s truck had already gone by the time you got downstairs. It was Connie’s volunteering day at the hospital, he always took her early. You had to go with Javi. You sat on the wall outside the apartment, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Javier to come outside. You had no idea what you were supposed to say to him, how were you supposed to act. You couldn’t really pretend like nothing had happened, sleeping with him like that was not something you could brush under the rug. But you didn’t want to talk to him about it, that would make it real. A real action with real consequences. If anyone found out that would be the end of your time here, and quite possibly the end of your time in the DEA entirely.

Eventually Javier came outside, spotted you on the wall and waved. You got up, chucked the packet of cigarettes in your hand to him before you stubbed out your own and got into the truck.

“So, do you want to talk about last night?” He asked as he lit a new cigarette.

“Not particularly. There isn’t really much to say is there?”

“Not really,” He shrugged, “You’re not in love with me now, right?”

“In your fucking dreams Peña. You weren’t that good,” You laughed at his audacity. You were lying, he was very good at it. But you weren’t in love with him. No, you couldn’t allow yourself even if you were.

“You bitch,” He tried to be serious but your laugh was contagious.

Javi immediately felt relieved, he’d spent all night worrying about you. He really didn’t want the sex to ruin everything you had going as a team. He was a little scared he had scared you off entirely but now you were laughing in his passenger seat as if nothing had ever happened all his worries were laid to rest.

“It happened and that’s it. We don’t need to make it a thing,” You said.

“Agreed,”

“Awesome, let’s go to work then,”

And just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened. Back to piles of paperwork, chasing up lazy cops for their reports and trying desperately to avoid Carrillo. It was going to take time to get over what you had seen him do. You didn’t want to see him, let alone be left alone with him. You’d pushed all responsibility for anything related to him onto Javier, who in return passed you more of his paperwork. It was a fair trade off.

At your desk, hummin away to yourself you could almost convince yourself you were fine. Thanks to the never ending cup of coffee and the sugar doughnuts you found for lunch, your energy levels were back up high. All reminders of the night before were out of sight and you were so consumed in work you didn’t notice as the day came to a close.

“Good night last night?” Steve asked across the desk.

“Huh?” You looked up from your work. Steve motioned to his neck, and you immediately cringed. You had forgotten about the hickey. “Oh, um yeah I guess,” You pulled your jacket back on, despite the heat, as the collar would cover the mark again.

“I thought you and Peña were out in the jungle for that lead. You would have got back super late,” Steve said.

“Everyone’s got their vices, Murphy,” Javier reappeared, jumping to your aid. Steve looked suspiciously between you and Javi.

“Guess you two are becoming more similar by the day,” He chuckled to himself, shaking any ideas from his mind.

“Guess so,” You agreed. You and Javi shared a glance while Steve looked away, both of you well aware of the shit storm that would kick up if Steve found out. He loved you and Javi a lot, but there is no way he would just skip over such an event. You flashed a smile, silently thanking Javi for stepping in for you, before he went back to work again.

To avoid any further questioning, you kept your jacket on for the remainder of the day, rather enduring the heat and cursing Javier for leaving a mark, than having anymore prying questions from Steve. When you finally gave up struggling with your mountain of paperwork, Steve offered you a ride home which you took gladly.

“You and Javi slept together last night, huh?” Steve asked as you rolled out of the embassy. Startled, you immediately went on the defense and laughed.

“Wh-what no!” You spluttered.

“I’m not an idiot, Rookie,” Steve raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t know what to say, so shook your head and shrugged, “So Javi was talking out of his ass earlier?” He said. Your stomach immediately dropped.

“Who’s he been talking to?” All laughter was gone from your voice. If Javi had said something that was it. Why on earth would he say anything?

“So something did happen?” Steve exclaimed, happy that his hunch was right.

“Steve,” You sighed heavily. Relieved for only a moment before more dread piled on.

“I can’t believe you two,” He said shaking his head, “I mean I was kind of expecting it with Javi’s reputation but I thought you had some standards at least,”

“You weren’t there, you don’t get it. It wasn’t anything meaningful just- things happen sometimes,” You sighed, “Did he actually say anything to you?”

“No,” He spoke more sympathetically now, “but I figured something was up, you’ve been acting weird all morning,”

“That’s more to do with the lack of sleep,” You explained, “Yesterday got a bit… dark. I don’t think I slept at all,”

“Carrillo?” Steve asked. You nodded solemnly, “You’ll get used to it,”

You didn’t get used to it. That night haunted you. You couldn’t sleep, every time you shut your eyes the tortured man's face stared back at you. You were practically intolerable come the end of the week. You’d fallen asleep at your desk on multiple occasions, snapped at everyone in the office, and drank enough coffee to fill an Olympic swimming pool. You made a secretary cry by snapping at her over some missing evidence and, had broken the phone on your desk.

As bad as your week had ended up being you still had to go out at the end of it. Instead of curling up with a movie and takeout you had to attend María’s family’s party. You didn’t know why you were invited but you definitely couldn’t back out of it. You’d hoped by now you would have cheered up, that you would be excited to let loose but you were miserable.

The party itself was gorgeous. Set out in the countryside, an hour from Medellin, the hills made for a beautiful backdrop. The Parreño’s summer house was exactly as you had expected, lavish and decadent. Courtyards filled with marble statues and paintings by various famous artists covered the walls. Lights were strung up around the garden between the pool house and a gazebo creating a colourful glow out onto the golden sky.

The air was full of conversation and music. Even though you were surrounded by people who would kill you if they found out who you really were, somehow with a drink in your hand you felt a little more relaxed. María had leant you a dress, a simple little black number, and fixed your makeup in the car ride here while excitedly telling you about her cousin from Argentina she was going to set you up with. You were at the very least, on the way to being happy.

María dragged you around introducing you to so many people you couldn’t remember their names. You gave up trying after ten different people María introduced as her auntie. You smiled and politely complimented their outfit or their hair and moved on. That was until you finally recognised someone. Senator Parreño, a regular face in your life. You prayed he wouldn’t recognise you, you had only met him once, sitting in the back of the ambassador's office while they spoke about something. Like most people, he ignored you that day and hopefully he wouldn’t have a clue now.

“Dad this is my friend, Isabela,” María introduced you. You were taken back for a moment. You knew her family was rich, but a senator for a father made them powerful too. Far more influence and scandal with their new link to Escobar too.

“Nice to meet you,” You smiled and shook his hand. The senator looked puzzled.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh stop it Dad I talk about her all the time, she’s been to our house a lot,”

“No, no it’s from somewhere else,” He squinted at you, looking you up and down. You could feel yourself sweating as you nervously took a big gulp of the cocktail in your hand.

“Isabela works at the American embassy papa, maybe you’ve just seen her there,” María said.

“I am a secretary,” You added quickly, “Usually running around the place, you probably saw me then,” You laughed nervously. Outwardly, you knew you looked normal but inside you were panicking massively.

“Ah I see,” He nodded, not entirely convinced. Luckily before he could interrogate you further or work out who you actually were, María linked arms with you and pulled your attention away.

“Come on, I just spotted Carlos. You will love him,”

Three things you had learnt about Carlos. One, he could and should be in a magazine. He was stunningly handsome in a shirt with far too many buttons undone you were practically drooling over him. Two, he was smart. An engineer. A very upstanding career especially compared to the occupation of most of the people at the party. And three, he really liked cocaine. That part did let him down quite a bit.

Hidden away from the prying eyes of parents and older generations, María, Diego, Carlos and multiple others you did not remember the names of, sat around listening to Carlos rave about the new recipe his friend had told him about. You listened carefully, if your hangover didn’t delete this information in the morning it would be great. Could finally have something to show for your weeks with María.

Carlos pulled out a pack of the new cocaine and poured out a good pile. You watched them all take a line. Part of you was interested in seeing what it was like. It must be good if everyone was so addicted to the stuff. You handled some much of the powder on a daily basis but you’d never even tried it. Seemed almost ridiculous. Maybe it was what you needed to finally relax a little, the alcohol wasn’t hitting the spot. One line wouldn’t kill you.

“Want some?” María offered, wiping her nose of residue. You shook your head.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” You announced, standing up from your seat on the couch. You climbed over María out of the circle of people. You could use their distraction to your advantage now. Now María wasn’t holding on to you you could actually go and investigate. Now with two Narcos connected attendees at least and the revelation that Senator Parreño was María’s father, any information you could find giving a definite link would be huge.

“Don’t be a pussy Isabela!” Diego hollered.

“Oh leave her alone, she’s only going for a moment,” María shoved her boyfriend playfully, “She’ll do it later,”

“Pacing myself,” You agreed with a smile.

“Miss you already!” María called after you before dissolving into fits of giggles.

Inside, the house was quiet. Only a couple of people sat in the living room downstairs and they paid no attention to you as you walked inside.

You walked up a set of elegant marble stairs, deciding upstairs may be your best option so not to get caught. Two long corridors led off the stairs, with doors leading off each side. You were looking for an office, that would be the place any paperwork would be kept. You would need letters, or meeting schedules. Something to prove a link.

You turned left, and hit the jackpot with the first try. Senator Parreño’s home office.You pushed the door open slowly, checking nobody had followed you before going inside. The office was immaculate, just as grand as the rest of the house. A large portrait of Maria’s family hung over the back of the desk, all of their eyes watching you as you searched through the room.

The room was full of things. One wall taken up by a set of shelves full of books and photographs and different trinkets of different sides. A leather couch sat in the window overlooking the gardens.

You came to the desk last. The top was clear of anything bar a photo of his wife, a line of pens and a rolodex. You flicked through it, found nothing of interest.

You stood up to find something you could use to pick the locks when you heard heavy footsteps from outside the door. You stood still for a moment, hoping to hear the footsteps go in the opposite direction down the hall. They got closer.

Before you were caught red handed, you made your escape. Racing to the door, you hoped you would have enough time to slip out without being caught. Quietly as possible, you opened the door.

“Isabela,” María’s father’s voice came from behind you as you shut the door. You turned around quickly, smiling innocently.

“Hi Mr Parreño!” You exclaimed, “Do you know where the bathroom is? I can’t find it?”

“It’s not in there,” He looked at your hand on the door, which you quickly removed and stepped away from.

“You’re house is just huge. I can’t ever seem to remember where I am going here,” You laughed nervously, “I’ll try down the hall,” You turned around and began to walk away, your

“I’d learn to be more careful, Agent,” The senator said after you. Your heart stopped. Slowly, you turned back around to face him again, “I guess you are here for my daughter’s stupid boyfriend?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said slowly, your mouth slow to catch up with your brain which was already working out the multiple ways to get out of the house safely.

“You can quit your act, I won’t say anything,” He laughed dryly.

“No act,” You shook your head, “I didn’t lie, I really don’t know what you are talking about. I am not here investigating Diego. María invited me”

“I remembered where I saw you. You were with those DEA agents,”

“I work with them sometimes, we’re friends,” You shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” He was on to you

“I’m sorry but I really do need the bathroom, if you could direct me there that would be great. I’ve had far too much to drink,”

“Down there, fourth on the right,”

“Thank you,” You walked away quickly, heart thumping against your ribcage at an alarming rate. He knew who you were! He knew exactly who you were!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath.

You quickly spiralled, thinking off all the worst possible things that could happen now. Parreño would tell someone else who you were, maybe he would do something now. You were alone, neither Peña or Murphy knew where you were, out in the middle of nowhere it would be pretty simple to get rid of your body. You didn’t even find any evidence, you reasoned with yourself and he wouldn’t want any suspicion to his name. He probably wouldn’t kill you.

Taking another deep breath as you tried to calm your rattling heart. Your hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink and slowly you relaxed again. You couldn’t go back out looking like you were scared, that would give you up entirely. You looked at your face in the mirror, at least outwardly you didn’t look too bad. Your makeup had shifted a little but you still looked ok. You were fine.

After another round of deep breaths and a pep talk to yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom and put a game face on.

“Isabela! You’re back!” María exclaimed as you returned to the group. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was not convincing as you watched the senator walk past. He looked at your briefly, a knowing glint in his eye as he clocked you. “Can I have some?” You nodded to the coke on the table as an impulsive and reckless idea came into your head. There was no way he could continue to think you were DEA if you did this. Either that or he would just think you were an idiot and not press you again.

“Finally you stop being a complete baby! Come here!” María cheered.

You stood up and stepped over to where María was knelt. You joined her on the floor, watching carefully as she lined the powder up with a card from the table. She presented it to you with a flourish, laughing again.

Surprisingly, you were not scared. The adrenaline of the close call was pacing through your veins. Your mind was so full of fear and anxiety, the idea of finally getting some relief was enticing.

You felt calm, no anxiety in your body holding you back anymore you took the drug from the table. You made a face of discomfort and spluttered a bit when it hit the back of your throat. The people around you laughed, but you didn’t feel embarrassed. It took a moment, but soon you felt the effects. All inhibition and anxiety left your body, you felt lighter and buzzing with energy.

“See, it’s good right?” Maria smiled. You nodded enthusiastically.

You woke up the next morning, tired and hungover. You couldn’t remember much of the night, but turning over to see Carlos naked next to you gave you a good idea of what had happened. He drove you back to Medellin a few hours later, his sports car was a very nice change from the cars you usually drove in. He was a sweet guy and you talked the entire journey home.

“Will I see you again?” He asked as he pulled up a little way from your apartment. You pretended to think about it for a moment, before breaking into a smile and nodding. “Perfect,” He smiled. You got out of the car, the happy smile not leaving your face as you waved and walked away.

You watched his car pull away before turning in the direction of your apartment. You still had an identity to hide afterall, even if he was nice you couldn’t let him see where you actually lived. There was still a threat of Parreño exposing you, if Carlos knew where you lived too it was only a matter of time before everyone would be in danger too.

“So that’s where you were,” Javier called out to you across the street as you approached. He sat on the steps of the apartment building, enjoying the sunshine, smoking and drinking a beer. “Getting laid,”

“Not jealous are you, Javi?” You smirked.

“No! You’re an adult you can do what you want,” He said with a laugh. A jealous twinge in his chest caught him off guard but he couldn’t let you know that, “You look nice by the way, it’s a cute dress,”

“Thanks,” You blushed a little. He shuffled out the way to let you pass him and climb the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

“Sure,” You shut the door behind you leaving Javi alone again. He sighed heavily, blowing out his smoke. He never got jealous, but you had done something to him. He initially put the feeling down the worry. He was concerned for you, going undercover was not something you should be doing at all and from the small amounts you had told him it could be more dangerous than you had first thought. But seeing you step out of that car, seeing you kiss the driver, he knew it was jealousy.

He wanted to have you close all the time, to protect you. You were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, and had shown that on many occasions but the idea of someone else holding you the way he had made him feel sick. That feeling in turn made him angry. He shouldn’t be feeling any type of way towards you, you were a team mate. He was your mentor.

He’d brought it all on himself, he shouldn’t have ever invited you in that night. He would have to suffer through the feeling until it went away, you could never know.

Let me know if you want to get tagged!

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

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Paper Bag (Request)

MCU Cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: Hope i am not bothering you but can i request one of avengers cast x teen!reader,where the reader gets acne and they think their ugly so they put a paperbag over their face but the cast notices and they ask them what's wrong and the reader removes their bag and say that they are ugly but the cast is like its normal to have it and you're beautiful.

Warnings: insecurity, self hatred, body hate, language

(A/N): berlin was AWESOME. i slept the ENTIRETY of yesterday so today i will post as well as tomorrow and monday too! enjoy the fics (hopefully) :D

You’d been in Marvel movies as a returning character for years. Your character was growing up, just as you were, and you loved every moment spent with the cast. They’d known you since you were about 6, and your bond with them was as real as could be.

Knowing them all for so long, you’d been able to tell them most of your problems. The early problems with fame, love troubles, friendship drama, and general weird thinking about the world. They had in many ways raised you.

But there was one thing - something that brought such a dark shadow of shame over you, so maddening and humiliating you’d never ever told them. You were insecure about how you looked.

It was ridiculous. I mean, you’d always kind of disliked your body type, and as you grew, you wished you had certain other features. Some of the insecurity came with fame, but the root of it just always seemed to have been there.

That’s why when you looked in the mirror to see your first pimple, your reaction was not as simple as being bummed out. You felt disgusting. So disgusting, in fact, you stayed in your trailer and cried and cried and cried, and eventually covered your mirrors, because the reflection you saw was an evil taunt. It told you that you were ugly.

But the mirrors being covered didn’t help. You couldn’t feel comfortable with the cast anymore, not knowing a bright red pimple adorned your usually untouched forehead. Not knowing you looked so stupid. Your mood was ruined, and your reflection was seemingly everywhere to bully you.

It reflected you on smooth surfaces, like counters and shelves, in glass and in bathroom mirrors. You cried each time you were reminded of your frank ugliness. It only worsened when you got several more pimples, and you felt yourself scrambling to fix everything, to stop the taunting that was so constant in your brain.

The moment you pulled the paper bag over your head, it stopped. You were anonymous again. No fame, no beauty, no ugliness. Anonymity was a superpower.

The first time you wore it, you only wore it at home, and then struggled the rest of the day with your crippling self hatred. After two days of this, you couldn’t resist it. Wearing it to work. You knew it looked weird, but you just wanted so, so desperately to feel comfortable again.

“Woah, who’s that?” Anthony asked as you walked onto set that morning, paper bag resting on your shoulders, and three holes (two eyes, one mouth) cut into it.

“It’s me,” you said curtly. It was a fair group of people you had accidentally run into. Anthony, Scarlett, Sebastian, Chris (Evans), and Elizabeth sat in the break room where you were trying to get some coffee in. You wanted to avoid everyone as long as possible. You knew your actions would raise questions (questions you really did not want to answer), so you’d planned to not speak to anyone outside of the filming. You would take it off in front of the camera, and then grab it as soon as possible, to minimise the agony and self hatred that had caused it in the first place.

“Y/n? Why are you wearing a paper bag?” Scarlett’s joking tone signalled she (and probably the others too) thought it was a joke of sorts. A prank, maybe. You ignored her question and put a mug beneath the dispenser, pressing a couple of buttons. Coffee was dispensed. You waited silently.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian called from the couch.

“Yep.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. You just wanted to leave. If only wearing a paper bag everywhere was socially acceptable.

“What’s with the paper bag, sweetheart?” Elizabeth asked worriedly. They had probably realised by now, that it was more than just a practical joke. You panicked.

“I’m doing a.. It’s an experiment.. For school,” you lied. You went to pick up your mug, but, regretfully, you realised your hand was shaking. A lot. In fact, your entire body was shaking a little bit. They were just a little bit too close to the truth. To the shame.

You grabbed the mug and took it, backing out to exit the room, but you went to quick, hand slipping, and the mug as well as its contents spilled out onto the floor. The mug shattered and the hot, brown liquid flooded the floor.

“Hey-” a hand found your shoulder, making you jump away and shriek. The paper bag rattled at the motion. It was Chris who’d walked up to you (very stealthily, may I add) and was now looking at you with those concerned blue eyes. “Are you okay, N/n? What’s wrong?”

The mug was shattered. The coffee was on the floor. You had pimples on your forehead and you couldn’t stand yourself. You started crying.

Silently crying, but visibly shaking, you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor, grasping your head through the paper bag in agony. You hated yourself. It was such a loud feeling.

“Y/n..” you heard Chris mumble, squatting down next to you and stroking your back. The shuffling of feet came closer, until the cast was standing next to you. The paper bag rattled once more, as this time, you took it off.

“I’m so ugly. I’m so ugly, Chris, I can’t stand myself,” you sobbed, now audibly, tears running down your face and some dripping into the spilt coffee. You saw your reflection in the liquid, and shame overtook you once more. “I’m so ugly-”

“Stop. No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’ve got- I’ve got pimples on my face and I-” you croaked, but broke off into a sob once more.

“Hang on, is this about pimples?” Sebastian intercepted, stepping forward. You shook your head.

“No.. Well, yeah. But it’s just.. Everything. I always hated how I looked, and I.. This just made it worse, I guess..”

“Oh, sweetie..” Scarlett mumbled, as both her and Elizabeth pulled you up form the wetted floor, and into a hug. They rubbed your back and squeezed you tight.

“You’re such a stunning young person, N/n. In every way. And pimples! They’re the most natural thing on the planet. I had pimples, Scarlett had pimples, Sebastian, Chris, Anthony! We’ve all had it,” Elizabeth said, as your raking sobs turned to sniffles in the ladies’ warm embraces. You nodded into her shoulder.

“Please, believe me, N/n, when I say that you’re one of the most gorgeous humans I’ve ever encountered. Inside and out,” Scarlett’s voice had never seemed as comforting as then.

“For the record, we don’t think you’re ugly either. You’re the definition of beautiful. I’d let my kids date you. And that’s a huge compliment!” Anthony jumped in, semi-jokingly, but gaze as serious as could be.

You wheezed a laugh. The pimples, that previously had seemed as bright and glowing as Rudolph’s red nose, seemed less significant now. Actually, you realised you’d never felt as comfortable as you did then. The insecurity that had had so many ties over you, had been cut loose. You were free and floating.

You almost felt stupid for not telling them sooner. The confidence you felt, was something you’d never gotten to experience.

You pulled away form Elizabeth and Scarlett, smiling and wiping your eyes.

“Thank you, guys. I’m sorry for being so dramatic,” you giggled now, face puffy and cried-out, but still you felt beautiful.

“Hey, no. You weren’t being dramatic. You were struggling with something and we helped you. Simple as that,” Sebastian said, ruffling your hair and smiling encouragingly.

“And don’t hesitate to tell any of us, if you feel like this again. We will jump to comfort you at any time of the day,” Chris added, patting your shoulder. You wiped your eyes once more, smiling like a dork.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked.

They hugged you, and you felt so loved and beautiful. You truly had somewhere, you thought, that you could always tell anyone anything. You had something so incredible. You had a family.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906 @xiumin-girl99 @frostedgiant

#chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #mcu cast x reader #marvel cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x child!reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #mcu cast x teen!reader

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megalony · 3 years

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Teacher’s pet- Part 20

So I have about two more parts planned for this Ben Hardy series but I am going to be doing a follow-on series because I love this story and still feel I have more to write for it. I hope you will all like this part, feedback is always lovely to hear.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @gwilymleeisbae @k-k0129 @haileymorelikestupid @glittrixvibe @youngpastafanmug @ultraviolencezs @kdatthecastle @darlindolan

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) teaches at the school Ben’s boys go to and they soon start a relationship. But they have their ups and downs with the problems Ben faces with his boys and how quickly the relationship progresses.

Enjoy.

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"I'm gonna go and see our baby girl now, they said I can finally hold her today."

Ben's fingers slowly and methodically carded through (Y/n)'s hair, moving the strands into waves and brushing them from her face as he talked quietly in a soft voice. He didn't know if (Y/n) could hear him or not, she was sedated but he knew that some people in comas could still hear voices around them so he hoped that even though (Y/n) was asleep, she could hear his voice.

He had spent most of the morning here with (Y/n), holding her hand, brushing his fingers over her skin to try and show her he was still here and talking to her in case she was listening. But now he had to go and see their daughter before he went home to the boys.

Every time he left (Y/n) here he felt guilty and in pain because something could happen when he left and he didn't want anything to happen when he wasn't here. And if felt awful to leave (Y/n) here on her own and he didn't like being apart from her, but he had to go and be with the boys until everything settled and he could bring (Y/n) home.

"I'll be back tomorrow, baby." He pressed his lips to the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as he was desperate not to let her go.

It hurt that Ben couldn't wrap his arms around (Y/n) or kiss her or even talk to her. He wanted to take her home and have everything be as it should. Ben wanted (Y/n) in his arms, he wanted her and his daughter in his arms in a hug and he wanted the boys at home with them and for them to be the family they should be. He didn't want (Y/n) to be ill and in pain and their girl to be stuck in an incubator without her family surrounding her every hour of every day.

The moment Ben got out of the room he just wanted to turn back around and go lay with (Y/n) but he knew if he did that then he wouldn't leave.

"Ben, how is she today?"

He didn't get more than two feet away from (Y/n)'s room before his eyes suddenly locked on her mother heading towards him.

The first time Ben had met Alicia was worrying for him since he had met her only a month before he and (Y/n) found out they were going to have a baby. He had no idea how she would react to her daughter being in a relationship with someone who already had three children of his own, he knew it wasn't the best kind of image or the best situation her parents would want for her. But he had been more than surprised when her parents had taken to him straight away and Alicia was very welcoming to the boys, she was practically another grandmother to them already.

It crushed Ben more than anything when he had to ring (Y/n)'s parents and explain that (Y/n) had suddenly taken a turn for the worst after he had told them she was recovering well the night before.

And it was too hard for Ben to stay with (Y/n) when her parents came to visit her. They came every day like Ben did but he made sure they had time alone with (Y/n) or else he didn't know what to say, where to sit or how to act. All he wanted to do was sit beside (Y/n) and hold her hand and suddenly make her better but he didn't feel comfortable when her parents were in the room. He couldn't cry in front of them either.

Ben was engulfed in a rather comforting but still crushing hug the moment Alicia was in front of him.

(Y/n) always told Ben that he had charmed her mother almost like he had charmed (Y/n) herself. His smile won Alicia over and his nature and just generally how he was made Alicia accept him into their family straight away.

"They're keeping her sedated, she got too distressed when she was awake with the ventilator and she's still on a lot of antibiotics... but the doctor said her heart isn't affected, so that's good." Ben scratched at the short hairs at the back of his head before he rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up a bit more.

When (Y/n) had woken up early in the morning, they had to sedate her because it was distressing for her to try and move and realise that she couldn't breathe. Feeling a tube stuck down her throat was too much for her, especially when it made her focus on her lack of breathing and she couldn't communicate without panicking. It was kinder and safer to keep her in a sleeping state, at least until she started to recover.

But the sepsis was still attacking her system and her lungs weren't working on their own. The antibiotics were treating the infection (Y/n) had gotten after labour but they couldn't control the sepsis. The only good news they had right now was that (Y/n)'s heart was still strong and wasn't effected by sepsis because if that happened, her chances would be next to none.

"Well s-she needs the rest... how's the little one doing?"

It was clear that Alicia was about ready to burst into tears but she was doing her best to push the tears back and keep her voice under control. (Y/n) was her only child, she had no other kids so (Y/n) had been her world and Alicia didn't have much other family other than her husband and her sister. If she lost (Y/n) she wouldn't have anyone around her except for Ben and her granddaughter and the boys.

Alicia had been to see her granddaughter along with (Y/n)'s dad, Jeremy, they visited the baby every day they visited (Y/n).

"They're letting me hold her today, I just can't do the birth certificate yet... (Y/n)'s supposed to be picking her name."

Ben could feel a bad headache forming behind his eyes, causing him to rub ferociously at his eyes to try and relieve the feeling. Their girl was four days old now and by this time Ben usually got the birth certificate sorted but he couldn't do that when he didn't have a name for her. He and (Y/n) had three names but they never managed to decide on one before labour happened early. Ben picked the name for all three of his boys and he said he wanted (Y/n) to be the one to pick the name for their daughter but right now she couldn't so he wasn't getting the certificate done until (Y/n) was better.

"There's plenty of time for that. I'll visit her after I sit with (Y/n) for a while, and if you want to stay here with (Y/n) at any point, you just ring me and those three boys can stay with me. You know I think of them as my own."

Alicia rubbed her hand up and down Ben's arm as a silent look of appreciation filled his eyes before they parted ways. He couldn't carry on this conversation without wanting to cry and it was very clear to see, Alicia didn't want to push either of them too far. Ben knew and appreciated that she would look after the boys whenever she could because she thought of them as her own grandkids. But Ben had to be at home with them as well as being here with (Y/n) because the boys were starting to get worried and he couldn't have that.

It was only a short trip from (Y/n)'s room down to the neonatal unit where is girl was and it was a route Ben walked three or four times a day. Switching between seeing (Y/n) and their daughter before he went home and spent the night with the boys before coming back to the hospital as early as he could.

When Ben reached the room that held four other newborns as well as his daughter, he headed straight over to his little girl and where a nurse was doing her routine checks.

"Mr Jones, are you ready to hold baby today?"

Ben nodded his head, finding a smile already on his lips just at the thought of having her in his arms. The moment she had been born she was taken out of the room to be looked after and she'd had a tube down her nose to help her breathe since she inhaled some fluids. But now she just had an IV for some nutrients and a few monitoring clips and stickers to check her vitals.

Doctor Mills had checked up on her yesterday and said she just needed the incubator for another week to make sure her lungs were developed enough to work properly on their own. So Ben could take her home in just over a week.

At least one of his girls was okay.

Ben tried to stop his leg from jittering up and down when he sat down, anxiously waiting for that strange yet intoxicating feeling of holding his baby for the first time.

When he first got to hold Carter, Ben had never felt a wave of emotions like that before. He didn't want to put Carter down, he just wanted to sit and hold him for the rest of his life. Then when he had James it was the same emotions but more intensified, he had another life depending on him and another boy he could cherish and look after. Finn was the smallest of all his boys, he felt like a little baby doll in Ben's arms, the kind he remembered playing with as a kid. Finn was so small and delicate but he had been beautiful.

After Finn, Ben had been sure that he had all his kids. He didn't think he would want or even get the chance to have another child, especially not after things between him and Lucy evolved in the worst possible way.

But here he was now, about to hold his fourth child, his first daughter.

The moment she was placed into his arms, Ben felt a shiver running down his spine and tingling throughout his body. He thought Finn had been his smallest child but his daughter was here, proving him wrong. She was four pounds and three ounces which was definitely underweight considering the average baby was supposed to be around seven pounds.

But she was perfect.

She had a tiny button nose that didn't reflect Ben's bumpy, slightly crooked nose that both Cater and James had inherited from him. Her hands were tiny but formed behind the rose pink mittens stuck on her hands so she didn't scratch her face. Her body fit along the expanse of Ben's lower arm perfectly and the way she curled up in his arm made him grin. She tucked her face into his chest and it tickled when Ben felt her nose brushing against his skin through his shirt.

"Hey, girlie. We don't have a name for you yet, but I'll talk to your mummy about that soon. She's so desperate to come see you when she's better, and the boys are all in love with you already, even Finn says your so pretty. My first girl."

Ben slowly brushed his finger across her cheek, smiling at the way it made her head lean into his touch before it seemed to tickle her. When he brought the boys to see her yesterday, all of them had been in awe of their little sister. Carter looked like he wanted to pick her straight up and cuddle her, James had reached his hand out to take hold of hers. And when Ben picked Finn up so he could see her, the first thing he said was that she was very pretty and sweet even if she was very small. They all seemed to instantly take to the thought of a sister now that she was here with them.

All they needed now was for (Y/n) to get better so she could hold her daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Buddy, come on it's past your bed time, you need to try and settle down you have school tomorrow." Ben tried his best to sound sympathetic and understanding but it was hard when he didn't have the patience or the effort left in his system.

It was half past ten, both James and Finn were fast asleep in their room and all Ben needed was for Carter to either settle down or for once, actually fall asleep. They all had school tomorrow and Ben needed to try and calm his own mind down because he had to take them to school then go to the hospital to see (Y/n) and their baby.

Ben had seen this coming. He had seen the state Carter was in after his mum dropped the boys back home, he was anxious and hyper and that was a big sign that he wouldn't settle tonight.

"No, I don't wanna." Carter shook his head with a defying look on his face before he planted himself down on the sofa.

His eyes followed Ben's movements in the same way they normally did when he tried to defy his dad. He didn't look anxious or irritated, he looked blank like he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. Carter watched what Ben did in case his dad was really riled up and to see what he could get away with doing. He watched Ben down the last bit of beer in the dark brown bottle in his hand before he got up and moved to put it in the kitchen.

But the moment Ben came back into the living room, he turned the tv off and looked at Carter expectantly. He knew well enough to know that Ben wouldn't let him sit up and watch tv all night when he had school in the morning. Even if Carter wouldn't be tired if he stayed up all night, it still wasn't good for him and would break his routine of trying to settle for the night.

"Carter, listen to me. I'm tired, okay? I'm knackered, I've been at the hospital every day for the last five days and then I'm coming home to be with you boys. I can't sleep either but I need you to keep your routine, I can't deal with you being unsettled from no routine."

If Carter didn't have a routine it unsettled him because routines helped to calm him down and give him structure. (Y/n) and the baby being away in hospital and Ben running between home and hospital definitely didn't give Carter routine or structure. So Ben had to keep that routine for Carter wherever he could and right now that was keeping him at school, bringing him home and keeping set times for getting up and going to bed.

"No, you just want to deal with mum and not let me see her. I miss her and I can't sleep, I wanna go see mum! I wanna see my mum!"

Carter stomped his foot down on the carpet as he stood to his feet, his height making him just below Ben's shoulder. Carter had trouble sleeping but he was normally fine with laying down and thinking until he fell asleep. But when he was anxious like this all he could think about was what was worrying him and that was (Y/n). He thought about her and how he hadn't seen her in over five days but Ben saw her everyday. He missed her and he was jealous and angered that he couldn't go and see her yet.

"Carter she's ill, I have to be there and make sure she's getting better you know that-"

"I wanna see my mum-"

"I wanna see her too!" The way Ben's voice rose and his words bellowed back at Carter made the eldest boy take a step back. He wasn't expecting Ben to shout at him and he certainly wasn't expecting him to say that.

Ben saw (Y/n) every day so far, he did see her whereas the boys didn't get to, Carter didn't understand what he meant by that.

"Every second I'm away from her I want to go back to her Carter because she's sick! I wanna see her wake up and look at me and talk to me and kiss me and just to hold her. But I can't because every fucking second I'm with your mum, she's asleep because she is so fucking ill she can hardly breathe. I miss her even when I'm sat next to her because it doesn't feel like she's there, do you get that? If I take you to see her you'll get upset and when I go see her I cry so no, you can't go see her and I'm fucking sick of all this shit."

The tears that fell from Ben's swollen, red eyes made Carter start to cry silently because he never saw Ben cry. It was something that hardly ever happened and it showed him just how poorly (Y/n) was and how badly it was hurting Ben.

"I want your mum home with us and I want your sister here too, she's at the hospital all alone until I can go hold her. She's my daughter and I can't look after her like I did when I had you boys and it kills me." Ben's tone softened like slowly melting butter and his voice was quieter when he realised he had scared Carter which he never meant to do.

His daughter was all alone in the hospital without her family and even though she wouldn't understand what family was, Ben knew she would have that maternal and paternal instinct and know who he and (Y/n) were. When Ben had the boys they were all home within two or three days and he was looking after them. But with his one and only girl, she was at the hospital without her family and that cut Ben up into pieces.

"I miss mum."

Those three words were the only ones Carter could think of and could manage to say. And the moment they registered in Ben's ears, he went down on his knees in front of Carter and engulfed him in his arms. It didn't and would never matter to Ben how old any of his children were, he would always want to pick them up in his arms and cuddle them like they were all still toddlers.

He picked Carter up and stood to his feet until the eleven-year-old wrapped his legs around Ben's hips and tucked his head into Ben's neck, breathing in his scent which started to calm him down.

Ben kissed the side of Carter's head, moving one of his hands so he could slowly smooth his fingers over the hair at the back of Carter's head. No words were spoken between the pair as Ben silently headed out of the living room and made his way upstairs to his room. If Carter wasn't going to sleep and Ben didn't think he was either, the best option was for them to stay together and try to settle and calm down. They both needed comforting right now.

Carter stayed clinging to Ben like a monkey even when Ben laid down on the bed with his upper body leaning up against the cushioned headboard. Carter put a bit of strain and weight onto Ben's chest as he laid on his front but it didn't bother Ben, he just wanted to hug his son.

"I... I heard the new teacher talking about mum today." Carter kept his face buried in Ben's neck as he spoke but he was clearly calmer when Ben continued to run his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, what did they say?"

"She told the class that mum had her baby but is poorly so she won't be at work for a few months."

"No, buddy she won't be at work for a few months because when a person has a baby, they get time off to be with their baby. If your mum wasn't sick she still would have time off, she has to look after your sister. She's just in the hospital still because she's poorly."

Carter clearly worried that (Y/n) was going to be in the hospital for months with what he had heard the supply teacher say but that wasn't going to be the case.

"Mum is gonna get better... isn't she?"

"Yes she is, I promise."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #BoRhap #teachers pet #gwilym lee #gwilym imagine #pregnancy

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