#too much pressure to be nurse and if an uncle comes to me to try to convince me to be a doctor im gonna 🤬 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsons-girl86 · 2 years

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The Rightside Up

Eddie had just been attacked by Demobats in the Upside Down, trying to lead them away from Dustin, Nancy, Steve and Robin. Eddie was hurt pretty badly and was being held in Dustins arms.

Dustin screamed at Eddie "Eddie hold on, don't leave me!" Eddie shocking through blood replied "I... don't think.... I can Dustin" His breath swallowing Dustin begins to try and stop the bleeding in Eddie's worst wound in his side. Dustin takes his bandana off and wraps it around his hand and starts to put as much pressure as he can on the deep, large bat bite. Eddie winces in pain "aaahhh" he screams. "I'm sorry Eddie but I'm not letting you go, I need you, your Uncle Wayne needs you." "Dustin, go, leave me, save the others." "No! No! I'm not leaving you Eddie."

Dustin could hear voices in the distance along with the sound of rusty bike chains and brakes. Dustin started to shout "Steve! Steve! Is that you? I need help Steve! Nancy! Robin!" The voices got louder and slowly clearer Dustin and Eddie could hear Steve bellowing back "Dustin! We are coming, hold on!" Eddie started coughing, the pain worsened for a second. Then Eddie laughed and said in between shallow breaths. "Dustin, I'm not going to make it, promise me you'll look after those sheep for me?" Dustin shook his head "you'll do that yourself, you hear me?"

Dustin looked up to see Steve running so fast he's almost tripping over his own feet, he falls to the ground about a foot away from Eddie and Dustin. Steve scrambles on his knees to get to them. Steve looks at Eddie's wounds and says "Eddie, dude, you can make this, we just need to get you to the van, you'll be safe there" Eddie splutters "I don't think I can make it.... Harrington." Nancy and Robin are by the side of them talking amongst themselves to figure out how to get Eddie back the real world. Robin interjects "If we all form some sort of stretcher from coats and ourselves we can carry him back to the van and then we can lift him through the portal" Nancy says "that won't work it's too high to get him back through, but the one in the woods near the van is accessible and close to Hoppers cabin, we can take him there to get help." Robin, Nancy and Dustin start putting coats together to make a carry stretcher for him. Steve is keeping pressure on the wound and keeping Eddie alert and calm.

Steve and Dustin pick Eddie up and gently place him on the homemade stretcher. Eddie winces in pain and screams "aaaahhh" "Sorry Munson but no man left behind, no matter how irritating that man is!" Robin scoffed. Eddie laughed through the pain "if I make it back, get my Uncle he's a nurse help know what... to do." Steve smiled and said "it's the only time I'll trust a Munson!" Eddie lauhhs again through the pain. Then carry him to the woods a few minutes walk from where he's been attacked. Then see the big, red, glowing portal in the woods. Steve goes through followed by Dustin and Robin and Nancy pass Eddie through the portal to the boys the other side. Dustin says I'll run to van and get Mr Munson, you guys go to Hoppers make sure Eddie gets help" Nancy nods and says to Eddie "you are going to have to walk from here, lean on us well take the weight."

Dustin runs to the trailer park shouting "Mr Munson!" Wayne was standing where his van used to be, looking at all he's lost. Dustin breathless "help... we need help... Mr Munson... it's Eddie he's hurt bad" Wayne says sharply "take me to him." Dustin and Wayne run Hoppers cabin where they find Hopper standing over Eddie's body, Nancy, Steve and Robin covered in blood look like they are about to cry. Wayne says sheepishly "Eddie, is Eddie alive?" Eddie coughs and says "I'm.... still here.... thanks to these guys. Wayne runs to him and Hopper and Mr Munson start cleaning Eddie up, stitching him up with Joyce's sewing kit and putting as many painkillers into Eddie as he can take. During his treatment Eddie passes out several times but in the end exhaustion and injuries take their toll and Eddie passes out. He sleeps on and off for 3 days straight.

On the 4th day when Eddie finally comes around fully. He opens his eyes slowly and looks around him. He sees his Uncle Wayne sleeping on the chair next to him, Dustin slumped asleep on the door next to where Eddie slept. Nancy and Robin sitting in the kitchen talking and Steve, Hopper and El were sleeping in Els room, he could see through the 3 inch gap in the door ahead of him. Joyce turned around after coming out of the bathroom, she makes eye contact with Eddie, smiled at him and then said sweetly, "Eddie's awake, get me some water for him please" Dustin and Wayne awake with a start and Wayne walks straight over to Eddie and hugs him so tightly Eddie feels like he might burst. "Jesus Uncle Wayne, are you trying to pop my stitches?!" Wayne says through tears in his eyes, "Sorry Ed I was just so worried about you, we thought we were going to lose you, Nancy and Dustin told me what you did down there how you saved us from those bats and how you saved Max from Vecna. I'm so so proud of you Ed." Nancy comes over with his water and starts to help him sip it slowly. "Thanks Nanc" "You are welcome, I'm glad you are back with us Munson" She smiled at him. Robin follows her and sits on the floor next to Eddie, she smiles at him and gently takes his hand to hold. "Hey Munson, thought you were gonna sleep the whole week away the rate you were going!" Eddie laughs "ahh, that still hurts, stop making me laugh you guys." Eddie slowly sits up, the pain seared through his side again "ahhh, I don't know how much of that I can deal with, shame the vans not in one piece any more" he let out a small laugh. Nancy looked at him with disapproving eyes. Eddie moved his gaze downwards towards the blanket draped over him, his cheeky side smile ensuing.

A few more minutes of giggles pass and out of Els room emerges Steve "ugh, what's all the noise you guys?" he mumbles groggily. Eddie slowly begins to stand helped by Robin, Dustin moves aside to reveal Eddie to a shocked Steve. "Harrington, is that you or do my eyes deceive me?" Eddie says with a sly side smile. "I thought you'd gone into hibernation in there" Steve walks briskly towards Eddie, almost jogging. Steve throws his arms around Eddie and squeezes so tight it takes Eddie's breath away a little. "Umph, Jesus Harrington, I didn't think you liked me this much" Steve whispered in his ear through his tears "you mean more to me than you know" Eddie smiled and a tear entered his eye, he whispered back "Thank you, I... I think I love you Steve." Steve pulled away from Eddie and in that moment he looked into Eddie's deep, brown eyes to see him crying. Eddie thought Steve didn't feel the same, he was wrong. Steve took Eddie's hand, smiled and leaned in close, Eddie's facial expression softened, he looked into Steve's eyes and before he knew it they were kissing, gently but passionately. The whole cabin exploded in cheers and happiness. Eddie and Steve parted and began to turn red with embarrassment that they'd lost themselves in front of everyone. Steve helps Eddie back to the sofa and sits beside him, Mr Munson says softly to them "congratulations I'm so proud of you two" Eddie, Steve and Wayne hug for what feels like forever. Eddie turns to Wayne and says, " I'm sorry I didn't tell you Uncle Wayne, I was scared of what you'd think of me." "Eds, I always knew you were gay, but it's never bothered me you are my Nephew and I love you for you. Always have, always will. I'm not your Dad you don't have to hide from me." Nancy and Robin stood up in the kitchen and hand in hand they said, "be yourself, never be afraid be who you are Edward Munson!" Nancy and Robin kissed, Steve stood up and smiled like a proud Mama bear "told you, you'd find love Robin Buckley you just had to find the right girl." They all started talking about what's next for them and how they can fight Vecna.

Later that day Eddie was sitting on the sofa, eating a sandwich. Steve lurched next to him. Hopper gets off the phone to Hawkins Police Department. He walks into the living room sat beside Eddie and Mr Munson and said with a smile and a sound of relief in his voice "That was the chief of police, he sees, to have found some new evidence that clears Eddie's name of all the 3 murders, he's a free man and they have put the report out to the news today so now you are feeling better, when you are ready you can walk out there, head held high a free man!" Eddie and Wayne hugged each other and Wayne says "I knew you would get past this somehow" Eddie replies "I didn't I thought I was a goner but Dustin wouldnt leave me and Nance, Steve, Robin they never gave up on me so thank you." Hopper and Joyce stand in front of the Munsons and smile "you can stay here with us as long as you need." "Thank you, it means a lot that some people around here believe and support us." "Wayne, you are more than welcome, if something weird is going on in this town we know it's not who the police blame. Will was the first one to bring us encounter with The Upside Down." Joyce's face dropped remembering that year events. She feels two small, thin but warm arms around her body. She turns around to see El and embraces her so gently but tightly at the same time. El is silent and smiles at Joyce. Els smiles always make Joyce feel better, at peace.

A few weeks later Eddie was growing tired of staying inside all day, he’s driven everyone to the brink of insanity with his guitar playing. Steve regretted buying him that acoustic guitar, but he knew music was his release and secretly Steve did enjoy listening to him play Corroded Coffin songs. Eddie sat next to Steve and said to him “I need to leave this cabin, but I’m so damn scared to, what will people think of me? Do they still think I was responsible for Chrissys death?” Steve replied, “I don’t think they do not since it was proven you didn’t do it, as far as they know it was an act of revenge on Jason’s part, that’s why he and his friends went after you. If only they knew the truth is much worse.” Eddie started to cry, Steve holds him tightly in his arms, rocking him, stroking his hair he says “it’s ok my love, I know it’s hard when I was first shown this world I cried with Robin for days, i couldn’t get my head around it at all. But you have me, Nancy, Robin, Wayne and everyone else here to help you process this.” Eddie sniffs away the tears and hugs Steve so tightly Steve thinks he’s going to burst. Eddie and Steve cuddle for a while, Steve stroking Eddie’s long, curly, brown hair. Eddie found this soothing, he liked it when it was just him and Steve, he felt safe, like no one could ever hurt him again.

There was a knock at the door, Eddie jumped, Steve said to him in a calm voice “it’s ok, I know who that is, you are safe.” Steve opened the door and greeted the people the other side with a smile. “come in, Ed doesn’t know you are coming, I thought it would be a nice surprise for him to see you all.” “Follow me, erm Eds there some people here to see you, I think you’ll like this.” Eddie’s face lit up “Max, Lucas, Mike, Dusty, Erica, Jeff, Gaz and Freak!” he started to tear up again. Jeff walks up to him and just pulls him in tight for a hug, the others crowd around him and Steve all squeezing tight for a hug to make Eddie feel safe. Eddie starts to cry more as they desperate so Steve takes his hand and leads him to the porch “Follow me, this will make you feel better.” He grins. Steve leads Eddie and is followed by everyone else. Standing in front of the porch was Wayne, Nancy and Robin but behind them was the Sinclair’s, the Wheelers, Mrs Henderson, Hopper, the Byers family, Gazs Mom, Jeff’s dad and Freaks Nan. Nancy steps forward and says with a smile on her face “we wanted you to know how many people were on your side, we have been to the school and there are loads of people who support you, there was even an announcement yesterday morning about how you would be coming back to school soon and anything you need to help you to do this will be here for you.” Eddie broke down in tears of happiness, he couldn’t believe the outpouring of love he was getting. Steve turned to him and said with a cheeky grin on his face “I told you no one thinks you were responsible, you can go back to school and graduate Eddie, this is your year!” Mrs Henderson chimed in and said “Dusty was right about you and we should have believed in you the way he and the other kids did.” Mrs Wheeler stepped forward and said “I think we all owe you and the kids an apology, we should have listened, we are truly sorry Edward, kids., I hope you can forgive us.” Mr Sinclair then added “Erica and Lucas were right about you and we are sorry we ever doubted you all. Eddie smiled and said “it’s ok, I wouldn’t have trusted me either, as I said to Chrissy the last time we spoke, I... I’m nothing, no one and I’d forget me too.” Steve interjected very harshly “Eddie Munson, don’t you ever say that again! You are more amazing than any one of us here, you are a hero you saved us during that earthquake, and most of all I love you so to me you are perfect!” Dustin adds, “don’t ever change Eddie Munson, promise me?” Eddie’s smiled widened as he replied “wasn’t planning on it” Good, good” They both laughed and Dustin ran to Eddie for a hug. Eddie felt safe and happy in those few moments. He knew things were going to be ok.

A few days later Eddie had decided he was ready to go back to school. “I got this, 86 baby it’s still MY year” his smile widening with that thought. Steve drove Eddie to school that morning. Eddie was quiet the whole way there. Steve stopped the car outside the school and turned to Eddie , looked at him and placed his hand on his leg and said in a calm, sweet voice “Eds you got this, Robin and Nancy have said they’ll spend the day with you, they have even got you changed to their classes so you aren’t on your own.” Steve pulls Eddie into a tight hug. Eddie starts to shake in Steve’s arms, Steve says, “Ed you don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready” “I can’t.... I can’t do this without you.” “You can, you are the bravest man I know Edward Munson. Hey, look here comes Robin and Nancy.” Eddie turned to look at them, wiping tears away from his eyes he looks at them and forces a smile. Nancy turned to Eddie, smiled and said “You ok Eddie?” Eddie sniffed and said “yeah I’m fine, just having a... erm... moment.... I don’t think I can do this.” Robin took Eddie’s hand, knelt by the car door and looked into his eyes. She could see the pain and hurt in his eyes. Robin knew deep down like herself Eddie was still there, stuck in that night, in that place. Eddie could see it in her eyes too, he held her hand tighter, trying to let her know he’s there for her too. Nancy rubbed Robins back as she exchanged a knowing look with Steve. They both knew Eddie and Robin weren’t the same people who entered the Upside Down.

Steve held Eddies other hand and kissed him, he whispered in his ear “I love you Eddie, 86 is hour year.” Robin helped Eddie out of the car, together Nancy, Robin and Eddie walked down the path towards the main entrance to the school. Steve drove away with a look of concern on his face.

The 3 seniors walked the hallway to first period, English, Eddie began to shake again and Robin calm as anything took his hand, held it tight and said “We can do this, you are safe with us, Steve wouldn’t have it any other way.” Eddie starts to breath more slowly and calmly as they approach the door. Nancy s hand moved towards to door handle with caution. Eddie’s hand stops her and instead he opens the door and leads them inside. Together they walk in and head towards the back of class to their seats. Eddie feels like everyone is staring at him, at his scars.

Robin took Eddie’s hand and squeezes it tighter, Eddie takes reassurance in this. A student near the front of the classroom startled Eddie as he puts his hand on Eddie’s arm to say “Im glad you are back, and sorry we doubted you man.” Eddie side smiled him and replied cautiously “Thanks man, I appreciate that.” Eddie continues to his seat, he hears whispers “freak, loser, weirdo.” Eddie knew he was back at Hawkins High. The place he’s never fitted in, the place he hated, but he knew this year he was graduating, 86 was going to be his year. As the day continues on Eddie sees more and more people and for the most part they were nice to him, actually nice but he felt like he wanted to just fade into the background and be forgotten again. Nancy could see Eddie was struggling so at break time she took him to the band room where the Hellfire Club were having their usual get together about their next campaign. Eddie smiled as soon as he entered the room. “well hot damn, I didn’t think I’d feel like this again.” Erica sassily replied “well, well, well what do we have here, long time no see Eddie the Banished.” Eddie’s smile widened and he loudly and brashly replied, “Lady Applejack, it’s very good to see you too my lady how hath the unruly bunch been in my absence?” “Very well, very well indeed, but they doth need their ruler back to defeat the Demogorgon next week.” Nancy s eyes lit up when she saw them together it was like seeing the real, unfiltered Eddie again.

The end of break Bell went and Eddie's smile sank lower on his lips as he said see you later to his Hellfire Club teammates. Robin took his hand, smiled at him and said "You are going to be ok, its going to take time but keep your chin up things will get better, I understand we were there too remember." Nancy interjected "Eddie you are amazing and like Robin said remember we are in this together." Eddie's smile widened as he replied "I know I'm just finding it hard today, I feel like everyone is still staring at me, like I'm the bad guy." Nancy grabbed his hand and spun him around to face her, "You are not the bad guy Edward Munson, they are the assholes that can't see what you are worth. If they want to stare bloody well let them!" She shouted as they walked down the corridor towards Science class. Eddie looked straight down at the floor, he didn't want to be here, he didn't want them to look at him. Robin saw this and joined Nancy in shouting "Come on, just another day of hunt the Freak!" Eddie began to laugh a little, he raised his head a little. Nancy and Robin both grabbed his hands and Robin lifted Eddie's chin up. Eddie cautiously smiled a bit wider. Nancy and Robin still chanting "hunt the Freak" Eddie threw caution to the wind and began to shout "I'm back! Hunt the Freak assholes!" The 3 seniors laughed and made their way into the Science lab where they all sat together and began their lesson.

#stranger things #eddie munson #hellfire club #fanfic #the upside down

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toomanyrobins2 · 2 years

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sweeter than honey pt. 12

Summary: Y/N “Honey” Cirillo has been many things in her short life: an unwanted child, a dancing prodigy, a teen mom, and now she’s a replacement bride. After her sister runs away, Y/N is forced to take her place and marry into the Barton family. The Three Families are already dealing with enough. With the murder of a high-ranking member and HYDRA continuing to make threats, they need this marriage to go ahead without a hitch. Can Clint and Y/n find happiness or is there too much against them?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Content warning: Arranged marriage, sex, violence, murder

Notes: Things are starting to heat up!

series masterlist // next part

“Let’s get dinner tonight after work.”

Y/N distractedly nodded her head as she ran a comb through Nola’s hair before starting to braid them. She was only half paying attention and hummed in agreement, “Sure. How about Chinese?” She looked up from Nola’s hair and when she saw the look on his face, realization dawned, “Oh, like a date?”

“Why is that surprising? We are married.”

She shrugged, “Well…I’ve never been on a date.”

“How is that possible?”

“Unless partying with guys and one night stands count as dates, then I’m practically virginal when it comes to romance.”

“So you’re married and never been on a date?”

“Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m not laughing at you, just the ridiculousness of our situation,” he pulled Y/N away from Nola and into a searing kiss, “I’m gonna romance the hell out of you.”

“Gross!” They turned to see Nola staring at this with complete disgust written on her face.

Y/N was at the nurses station when one of the doctors passed by her, “Cirillo, could you check on the patient in room 14. He apparently had a rough night and had to have his medication upped.”

“Of course, Dr. Strange. I'll check in in around five minutes.” She did a final glance up at the screens to check patients’ vitals, tucked her pen in her hair, and headed to check on the patient. Mr. Fisk was an older gentleman who’d been receiving treatment for colon cancer for the past four months. Y/N felt bad that he didn’t have any visitors and kept him company when she could.

Walking in the room, she was surprised to see someone sitting by his bed, “Oh! Hello, I’m Y/N. I’m just going to do a quick check. The doctor mentioned Mr. Fisk had a rough night.”

The man who had been lounging in the chairs nodded, but didn’t say anything. As soon as she had entered, she immediately felt unsettled and decided to move as quickly as possible. The deep voice broke the silence and made her jump, “Have you worked here long?”

“No, I started here recently. I assure you though, I’m completely qualified and he is the best hands possible with Dr. Strange.”

Dark eyes raked over her and if Y/N didn’t know better she would’ve sworn he could see every inch of skin under her scrubs, “I’m sure, Uncle Wilson will be just fine.”

She smiled awkwardly as he continued to stare into her soul. Coughing awkwardly, she forced a smile on her face, “Well, I’m glad he has family visiting him. I was worried he didn’t have anyone.”

“Like you?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“Not yet, you’re not,” the strange man stood and he towered over her, “You're much prettier than your sister.” Y/N tried to keep her breathing even and started to walk slowly towards the door. He laughed as he walked towards her and flipped the lights off, “But maybe, you’re just as dumb.” His hand snapped out and encircled her throat before she could make a noise. The pressure on her windpipe had her trying to dig her nails into his hand before she lost consciousness.

Clint sat in a meeting with the other leaders. For the third time in the past 10 minutes, his phone started vibrating. Steve coughed into his hand to hide his laugh, “For the love of god, just answer it.”

He pulled his cell phone out, “What!”

“Hi, Clint!” The sweet, little voice had sirens going off in his head, but he softened his voice.

“Hi, Nola. What are you doing calling me?”

“Have you seen momma? She was supposed to be here forever ago!”

“Your mom isn’t there!”

“Uh-uh! She’s so late, Clint!”

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll be there soon and call her. Pinky promise!” He quickly hung up and stormed back into the room, “Meetings over. Y/N never showed up to pick up Nola.”

Tony put a hand on his shoulder, “Let’s not freak out. She could just have been held up at the hospital.”

“No!” Clint’s fists were clenched so tight the knuckles were white, “She would've called me, or mom, or Jackie and Andi. She wouldn’t just leave her there. She wouldn’t.”

“Right now, you need to focus on getting Nola home safe and then we can get to Y/N.”

“Nola, right. Someone needs to follow me because as soon as I get her, I’m going to that hospital.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll go. I’ve got a car seat.”

Nola was safe and sound at home with Steve and Birdie. Clint was calling Y/N’s phone every minute without any change. Thankfully, the tracking app he’d forced her to download was up and running. Clint knew that they had to be stealthy with how they handled this and when he entered the hospital with the group, they went in pairs so as not to alert security.

Clint hadn’t torn his eyes away from the screen as they grew closer to the little yellow bubble. They stopped outside a darkened room, but when he pressed an ear to the door, he heard Y/N crying. Grabbing the gun that was tucked into his waistband, he threw the door open. No one jumped out at him and he flipped the light on. The anger was replaced with fear when he found Y/N curled up the corner of the room, her scrubs covered in blood. A body laying in the center of the room with what looked like a pen buried in the side of his neck. Y/Looked up at Clint with tears in her eyes, “I—I didn’t—not to kill—“

He quickly crossed the room, completely ignoring the others who were already in motion. He slipped the bloodied bandages from her hand, “Honey, this is not your fault. I know you didn’t do this on purpose.”

“But—but he’s dead. I just wanted him to stop”

Clint’s voice was soft as he tried to keep her calm, “All I care about is that you are safe. Now, did he hurt you?” Y/N shook her head but that wasn’t enough for him. He held her face in his hands, thumbs running along her cheekbones, “I need words, sweets.”

Y/N ran an internal scan and shook her head, “No, nothing major. Just some—some bumps and bruises. I think I may have hit my head but not enough to be concussed.” By the time Clint was convinced that his wife was safe and relatively unharmed, the others had managed to cover the body with a sheet and wheeled it away. He stood between Y/N and the patch of blood before pulling her up from the floor.

“Banner’s been informed of what’s happened and he is going to help with the body. You need to get out of these clothes.” He turned to give her some privacy.

Y/N grabbed his hand, “Please, stay.” Clint slowly helped her slip out of the ruined scrubs. She stood in just her long-sleeved undershirt and underwear. He wiped the blood from her hands, pressing a kiss to each finger as they were cleaned. She had never experienced this kind of treatment before and couldn’t help but marvel at how such a dangerous man could act this way. He took a cloth and wiped the spatter off her face and neck.

Clint smiled at her, “There’s my pretty wife. All clean.” Y/N pressed herself against him in a desperate kiss. She needed to feel something other than the guilt that was consuming her. Her fingers tangled into his hair as his hands traced down her back to cup her ass. It took every ounce of self control for Clint to pull away, “I hate myself for this, but we need to get out of here.”

“Right, of course,” she pulled away and quickly changed into the fresh scrubs. The couple quickly made their way out of the hospital, leaving the others to clean up the mess in the room.

As soon as they got home, Y/N was stripping out of her clothes and hurrying into the shower. She pulled the loofah off the hook and scrubbed at her skin until it was hot. Her mind kept playing the moment the pen was buried into her attacker’s neck. Not realizing how long it had been, the door flew open, making her jump in the air. She spun around, “Clint, what the hell!”

“You were in here awhile and I got worried.”

“You couldn’t knock!”

“I did!” Y/N scoffed at the overprotective man. He stayed in the bathroom but didn’t speak as he moved around the room. She was curious, but she also still felt dirty and needed to keep scrubbing. The door to the shower was thrown open and Clint stepped in with his boxers still on. He pulled the loofah out of her hand, stopping her from scrubbing her skin raw. Clint walked towards her until was against the wall. Leaning down, he kissed her hard. His hand drifted down to her ass. She took the hint and wrapped her legs around him. He kept his arm firmly wrapped around her waist while his lips mapped the bruises starting to form on her neck. “Come on, gorgeous. I’ve got the bath set up.”

It took Y/N a second to come back to herself after the intense kiss, “Is that what you were doing?”

He quickly turned off the shower and dragged over to the bath. She stepped in and immediately wrapped her arms around her legs. Clint climbed in behind her, his legs bent on either side of her and he ran a comforting hand down her back. He drew random shapes and traced along her spine and shoulder blades until she started to relax against his chest. Her head fell back to rest on his shoulder and his hands started to roam over her body again. “Come on, gorgeous. So good for me,” Clint praised, calloused fingers rubbed over Y/N’s nipples until they hardened. She moaned his name softly as he continued to explore her, a trail of heat following his fingers. With shocking ease, he grabbed her hips and eased her down his length. The both of them gasped once he was buried inside her. Neither moved as they drew comfort from the moment. Clint was whispering praise in Y/N’s ear and he felt her fluttering around him as his words transitioned from comfort to pure filth.

After not having sex for so long, the stretch was delicious to Y/N and her mind was hazy with pleasure. She couldn’t have told you what Clint had said to her, but she knew she wanted all of it then and now. Clenching around him, she begged. He couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smirking as she ground his hips into hers, “You can move whenever you want, gorgeous.” That was all Y/N needed and she started circling herself against him. Clint put his hands on her hips, digging his thumbs into her ass, so that he could control the pace Y/N was moving. She panted as the steam swirled around the room and her cries echoes off the walls. Eyes closed, she turned her head into his neck, as Clint started thrusting up to meet her hips. “Just like that, baby. You’re dripping. Are you close?”

Y/N couldn’t hide the shiver that ran down her spine at how deep his voice had become, “Yes! Yes, please! Clint, please.” He shushed her as he dragged a hand down her body to her clit. It only took a few seconds to bring Y/N over the edge as she sobbed his name.

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myelocin · 3 years

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the kind that blooms | iwaizumi h.

Synopsis: Hajime thinks of how fragile the moment that love brings can be.

Genre: fluff, domestic | WC: 1500+

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime

A/N: this is a commissioned piece from @hvnlydmn :D

eyes in the sun - florist | jewel - adam melchor

commissions

Iwaizumi Hajime counts the amount of times he thinks about the way he loves you in just one car ride to and from the farmer’s market on a Saturday and loses count within minute seventeen.

It’s nice, he thinks. The roads aren’t too busy, plus the nine AM sun that doesn’t burn on his skin feels good. You’re sat in the passenger seat, nursing a cup of something that eases you awake on weekends, and the way your head lolls to the side every time sleep tries to pull you back is a familiar sight to him.

He thinks to himself that he loves you, smiling in the silence, and drives.

Red lights, yellow, then green. Back to red, a turn here, and drive up the road there. His palm flat against the wheel, foot on the clutch, the other either on the brakes or the gas. Hajime likes the feel of routine. He lives not having to think through every movement, to the point of over analyzing the situation deep enough to cease being present in it.

Moments such as this.

Saturdays and you. Your blue, blue, sky blue eyes that completes the palette of the earth to his forest green and emerald irises. The light of the sun at nine in the morning, just soft enough to have him slumped in his seat with his hand in the wheel, thinking that sometimes control truly can flow as easy as this.

The light push of the brakes where the pressure is more than familiar to him, and just the slight turn he makes that feels next to second nature against his palm. By now, Hajime already slows down nearing the speed bumps before he even sees them ahead, only chuckling softly when you’d jostle awake and look around the streets only to sleep again for a couple minutes more.

And he’s in love with you, he thinks again.

You’re the face sketched next to the word love, the photo in his wallet, and the presence that centers him within the swirling mess that’s bound to come with the world. It’s the nine AMs on a routine like Saturday that suddenly has him praising his thanks to every God in the books—even though he never was one for religion in the first place.

At the last turn before the parking lot comes into view, the car jostles you awake. Then you blink at him, slow, just barely squinting at the light that streams in through the car window. Hajime hums his good morning before you even tell him you’re awake, and with one hand, reaches over the center console to squeeze your thigh hello.

You grin. His palm is just the right kind of warm that you’ve always liked, and the volume of his voice when he hums his words instead of sounding them out just enough to remind you how routine feels like this. It’s the sentimentality of the mundane that becomes redefined. Saturdays and nine AMs, painted in the shades of the fruit stalls you pass by hand in hand at the farmer’s market. The aunties that sell you fruit, always winking at the two of you when you’d walk past, and the uncles that always clapped Hajime on the back, telling him he’d found a good one.

He’d smile every time too.

(Because he loves you, he thinks.)

He doesn’t exactly say much, not take much of an initiative to break the silence. Instead, he takes the keys out of the ignition, unbuckles his seatbelt, and sits back. The silence that comes after the click remains with the intention to settle, but it feels nice.

The silence feels nice.

It’s loud outside, a fact that he’s sure of as he catches sight of the aunties unloading cartons of produce from the back of their trucks into their stalls. He sees an uncle from across the makeshift street right around the corner call over to what he thinks is wife, because even if she rolls her eyes at whatever he said, the way he smiles when he turns is a familiar one to him.

“You’ve been smiling a lot,” as a comment Oikawa has told him one too many times by now, but he supposes there’s more than just observation to that. The smile he carries is the manifestation of the love that’s shared. Love, like the inside jokes that he knows still has you snorting in laughter even though they’re a couple years old now.

Rehearsed words where he memorizes the context by heart; an I love you, every day; “I’m home,” then a “welcome home,” as a response from another room in the apartment that’s yours and his. Your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom sink, and a bottle of shampoo whose brand he can remember without having to text you for confirmation when he’s running errands.

So he smiles some more; within the silence in his car, while you sit beside him, still trying to squint through the bits of sunlight that remains.

His eyes catch yours on the rear view mirror of the car and he grins his teasing good morning at the sight of you blinking away the last few remnants of your sleep.

You mumble your hello, voice quiet, and just like that things click into place. The smile on his face remains, and the sounds of the world moving about outside dull in comparison to your voice. There’s a tranquility that’s long settled ever since he found his space in the world with you, and this is it.

This, as your eyes against the sun. The color of the skies and of life, all caught in a single reflection painted in your eyes. The nature of love, of how fragile it truly is made known to him through just a slow blink of your eyes as you sit up, unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to him.

You’re smiling and the word forever is what rings in his mind.

Hajime thinks of the home he knows he can always return to, and the sheets on the bed that neither of you decided to make this morning before you left. The slippers you left by the door are probably flipped over, but it’s home. Love like recognizing the fragility of the moment and falling in love with it. Your wordless exchange of conversation; his hand on your thigh, you offering him a sip of the drink he can just tell has gone cold by now, and the chuckle exchanged that lightens the atmosphere even more.

“I think,” Hajime starts, mirth in his voice as he turns to you afterwards. “I think that Oikawa’s got a good point about some stuff.”

You hum, leaning back against the seat again and following his eyes that trail to the old couple by the stall passing boxes, exchanging words. “About?”

Hajime chuckles again, crossing his arms over his chest. “I remember before we met he was the one telling me that if I got along with him so much then I would loooove you.”

You snicker in response, recalling how Oikawa used exaggerate how alike the both of you are. “And he has a point,” you nod, leaning over to poke Hajime on the cheek.

His shoulders relax, the weight that comes with the world suddenly gone, because in the moment Hajime allows himself to just stay here. The couple across the parking lot is smiling now, and he realizes to himself that when you’re in love, you truly do bloom.

Like the red in his cheeks, and the glimmer of your eyes. The glow of the sun as it rises in the morning then sets at night. The ring that sits on your finger now, and the tenderness that the moment cradles the two lovers in.

“That fucker was right,” Hajime laughs, his voice booming in the little space of your car. The stillness of the moment remains, because as fragile as love is, the kind that you share is unbreakable.

The memory from last night is quick to replay in your head:

Sunsets and wearing his shirt that’s a few too sizes too big. Your arms around his neck, pulling him close, and both of your feet bare against the wooden floor as you sway—to a song unsung, and unheard, but the moment is still so much yours. A call from a mother telling a child to come home a few streets over, and the ice cream truck’s bells ringing as it rounds the corner. You listened to the slow inhale and exhale of Hajime’s steady breaths as he kept his eyes on you and thought that the sounds of your mumbling was melody enough.

Then, a break in the pattern, in the routine, as Hajime turned to you and whispered a quiet “will you marry me?” that still rings in your ear up until now.

In the present Hajime turns to you again, and remembers that the rest of your lifetime and his was now rewritten into a story as if it’s made for one.

“You’re not gonna regret agreeing to marry me are you?” you hear him laugh.

You shrug, cocking your head to the side and lifting your finger with the ring that reminds him of your forever yes.

“You’re never getting rid of me,” you laugh, leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek.

He’s warm, he thinks. Warm like your lips on his cheek, and his heart that does somersaults in his chest. The sunshine and the light it brings; cast on your eyes, your ring, and on the dashboard of his car.

So he thinks about how he loves you, again.

(And again and again and again and again.)

for a love that’s meant to linger.

#nc.commissions #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime scenarios #iwaizumi hajime imagines #iwaizumi hajime fluff #haikyuu commissions #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

#drabble nights #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario

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hookedonapirate · 2 years

Text

A Date for the Holidays (and everyday too would be nice)

Summary: Tired of the constant backlash from her family about being single, Emma finds herself striking an arrangement with a roguishly handsome stranger at the mall the day after Christmas. Now she won’t have to be alone for the holidays. Emma and Killian agree to be each other’s dates, no strings attached, no commitment, no pressure. Just two friends getting together to appease her annoying family and get his brother off his back. It’s the perfect setup really...until sticking to the holidays isn’t enough. What happens when they both want more?

Holidate AU

A/N: So I watched the Holidate the other night and couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun it would be to turn this into a CS fic. So here we are. This probably won’t be too long, I’ll be getting back to my wips soon, just needed a break, but probably 4 or 5 chapters or so. Hope you enjoy! Thank you to the ladies on Discord for your encouragement and enabling ;-)

Thank you to the lovely @veryverynotgood for beta reading!

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 // FF.N

Chapter 9

Halloween

“Stop eating all the chocolate! You’re gonna be sick!”

Emma groans, shoving another mini-sized candy bar into her mouth as Elsa ties the laces of her black leather corset so tightly she’s sure her cousin’s trying to kill her.

“Get ready and suck!” Elsa pulls tight again and turns them toward the bed. Emma reaches out her hands, holding herself up as she bends over the bed, allowing Elsa to trap her in this torture device.

“I am so excited!” Anna says giddily with a grin as she plops down on the bed. “This is my first adult party since the kids!”

“Are you sad Kristoff isn’t coming?” Emma asks curiously.

Anna shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s only one night. He’s taking the kids trick-or-treating.”

“Okay, ready? Suck.” When Emma does what she’s told, Elsa pulls a little too hard on the laces.

“Oh, Jesus!” Emma shoots up, holding her stomach. “When did Halloween go from dressing up like a princess,” she pants and pushes up her breasts higher in the corset, “to dressing up like a whore?” She especially feels slutty considering her cousins’ very modest costumes. Elsa is Queen Victoria and Anna is dressed as her half-sister, Princess Feodora.

“I don’t know, sixth grade?” Elsa guesses.

“What’s a whore?” Daisy asks from where she’s sitting on her aunt and uncle’s bed with her cousin, Arya.

Anna’s mouth falls open, her eyes wide as she tries to explain. “Uh, somebody who gets paid to play with boys.”

Arya perks up. “I wanna be a whore!”

Daisy nods excitedly. “Me too!”

“Okay. Just remember, the house gets fifty percent,” Elsa jokes to her daughter.

Anna claps a hand over her mouth, trying not to burst into laughter as the kids frown at her in confusion.

When Elsa finishes with the corset, Emma sighs in relief and goes over to check out her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’s wearing a bar wench costume, which includes a white, off-the-shoulder top with long, flare sleeves, a choker around her neck and a high-cut bustle skirt, showing off the black fishnet stockings on her legs and knee-high leather boots.

“This is what I get for putting Killian in charge of costumes,” Emma grumbles as she tries to adjust her corset. Her top is very low cut and shows off a little too much cleavage for her liking, so the best she can do is hoist them up to make them look more appealing.

Why did she let Killian talk her into this?

🎃🎃🎃

Fog floats through the room and All the Rage by Allie X blasts from the speakers as Emma and her cousins make their way through the crowd of gyrating bodies all dressed in costumes.

Emma rolls her eyes at her aunt Ruby, who brought Graham as her holidate. She’s dressed as a nurse, and he’s dressed as a doctor. Like seriously, what kind of douchebag dresses as their actual profession for Halloween?

Suspecting where Killian might be, Emma heads toward the bar, and sure enough, he’s already downing a glass of rum with Liam.

Holy hell.

When Killian said he was dressing as Captain Hook, she was expecting breeches, a red jacket, a permed wig and curly mustache. But he's wearing neither of those. His jacket and pants are made of black leather, there’s a hoop in his ear, which looks so fucking hot on him, and he’s wearing a red vest and white dress shirt, exposing a provocative amount of chest hair. He also has a tricorn hat on his head, but it doesn’t have a feather sticking out of it.

He’s the sexiest version of Captain Hook she’s ever seen.

“Ahoy, Captain,” Emma greets, approaching the two brothers, her cousins following behind.

She no longer cringes when she sees Liam since he’d sincerely apologized to her last month, saying he was just looking out for his brother. He admitted he wrongly pointed a finger at her for the Fourth of July fiasco, and she had forgiven him.

Killian turns toward her, his jaw dropping as his eyes scroll up and down her form.

“That’s Captains,” Liam corrects, emphasizing the ‘s’.

Emma arches a brow, taking in his navy-blue uniform and ridiculous bicorn hat. “What are you supposed to be, Cap’n Crunch?”

Liam rolls his eyes and Killian chuckles. “Ha ha, funny lass. I’m a British naval captain.”

“Glad to see your costume fits…” Killian notices thoughtfully, making a show of admiring Emma’s wench costume with a big smirk as he gestures toward her with the fake hook on his hand before finishing his compliment, “perfectly.”

“Yeah, well, try telling that to my spleen,” she groans, adjusting her corset for the millionth time.

“Your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear,” he says with a wink and a crooked smirk.

Her cheeks heat, and a smile tugs at her lips before she realizes they’re staring at each other. She shakes herself out of the daze she’s in and introduces her cousins to Killian’s brother. “Liam, this is my cousin, Elsa, and her sister, Anna. This is Killian’s brother, Liam.”

Liam already has his eyes on Elsa as he removes his hat and bows like she’s an actual queen. “Greetings, Your Majesty.” He takes her hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Elsa blushes and smiles, pressing her free hand to her chest. “You can just call me Elsa.”

“Any queen in particular?” he asks, eyeing the crown on her head.

“Queen Victoria.” She turns toward Anna. “And this is her half-sister, Princess Feodora.”

He tries to kiss Anna’s hand like he did Elsa’s, but she shakes her head and steps back as though he’s trying to kiss her on the lips. “No, thank you. I’m married.” She gently pushes Elsa forward. “But my sister here is very much single,” she makes sure to inform Liam with a big grin.

Elsa turns her head to scold her sister in disapproval before Anna excuses herself and heads through the crowd.

Liam chuckles awkwardly, his cheeks red as his eyes return to Elsa. “It’s nice to meet you, lass.”

“Likewise. You seem nothing like the self-righteous asshole Emma described you as,” Elsa points out deliberately.

Apology clouds his face as he looks at Emma. “Well, she wasn’t wrong. I was very much a dick.”

“But he apologized,” Emma reminds her.

He looks at Elsa again and scratches behind his ear, the same nervous tick Killian has. “So, um, would you care to dance with this self-righteous arse?” he asks nervously, sticking out his hand.

Elsa laughs, slipping her palm in his. “Sure why not?”

After Liam and Elsa walk away, Killian returns his gaze to Emma. “Drink?”

“Immediately.”

🎃🎃🎃

“Great party, Audrey,” Emma compliments when they finally cross paths with the host.

She gives her an Are you seriously kidding me? look. “It’s a complete disaster! Who fills a place with this much dry ice?”

“But it’s fun,” Killian comments, trying to look on the bright side, “And scary and…” he gestures at her shiny gold dress when he’s at a loss for more adjectives to adequately describe the party decorations. “I love your costume.”

“I’m so embarrassed!” Audrey grumbles, looking down at her outfit. “We’re supposed to be Beauty and the Beast.”

Leo comes up behind her, shouting, “Happy Halloween, party people!”

Emma furrows her brows as she scans her brother’s costume. He doesn’t look like any beast she’s ever seen before. He's dressed in black and is wrapped in what appears to be a burrito shell. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Uh, a taco. Duh!” He points between him and Audrey. “Taco Bell, get it?”

Audrey shakes her head in frustration. “No, I’m Belle, not a bell.”

Killian chuckles. “Just look at it this way—you could just pass it off as a funny pun.”

Emma scans the room as she takes a sip of her third Haunted Orchard Cocktail. Unlike her mocktails on the Fourth, there’s nothing virgin about her drink, as it has tequila and hard cider. And either she’s had a little too much to drink or her ex and his girlfriend are heading toward her. She gasps and whips around to glare at her brother. “You invited Neal?!”

“I wasn’t in charge of the guest list,” he grumbles at Audrey.

His fiancé shrugs. “I didn’t invite him. I invited Tamara. We went to high school together. How was I supposed to know she’s dating your ex?”

Emma furrows her brows at Audrey. “Wait, you two went to high school together?”

“Yeah, she was in the same class as me.”

Emma’s face pales. Oh, God. If Audrey’s twenty, that means…Tamara’s even younger than she thought.

Emma wants to crawl into a hole and hide, but before she gets the chance to run away, Neal and Tamara are already in front of her.

“Happy Halloween!” Neal greets, wrapping his arm around Tamara.

“I love the slutty costume!” the woman says with a big grin. She and Neal are dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, and Emma can’t help but notice the very round, very prominent, close-to-bursting belly underneath her green dress.

“Thank you…I like yours too.” Emma gestures toward what she hopes to be a fake pregnant belly as part of her costume. “I mean, that fake belly’s incredible. You look really, really pregnant,” she laughs, trying to shove down the hatred and disgust she feels for her ex.

“Not fake,” Tamara corrects, looking over at Neal.

Emma’s eyes widen in horror, and suddenly, she can’t breathe, the corset seeming to press even tighter around her ribcage.

That bastard got her pregnant?!

“Due in two days.”

“I just couldn’t keep her at home,” Neal says with a chuckle.

Tamara shakes her head and swats his chest. “I already told you, baby, this kid’s not gonna change our lives.”

Anna bursts out laughing from behind Emma, which surprises her because she didn’t know her cousin was standing there. “That’s adorable.”

Tamara smiles skittishly, obviously not understanding what’s so funny. “Thank you.”

“Wow…” Emma’s still trying to process this, her mind spinning. “Pregnant…” She turns to look at her cousin, laughing, even though she’s dying inside. “She’s pregnant!”

Anna nods. “I know. She’s adorable. Wanna get another drink?” she asks, ushering Emma away.

“Congrats,” Emma calls out to the expecting parents as she walks past them, still in complete disbelief. “Congrat-u-lations. I am so happy for you! Wow!”

Anna drags her to the bar so she doesn’t make any more of a fool of herself than she already has.

Emma spins around, throwing her hands up in the air. “She’s fucking pregnant?! How is this even possible?! She’s my brother’s age?!”

Anna orders them some cocktails and hands her one. “Here, drink this.”

Emma accepts, guzzling it down like it’s water and then slamming the empty glass on the bar top.

“You need another drink,” Anna suggests.

Emma shakes her head. “Oh God, I don’t feel so good,” she groans, clutching her stomach. She’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the room is spinning and she feels queasy. “I really don’t feel well. I’ve had about fifty mini-size candy bars, four Haunted Orchards and my ex-boyfriend has impregnated someone fifteen years younger than him!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Anna says, rubbing her back as Emma grips the bar counter.

Killian comes up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, love?”

“No! I am not okay!” she snaps, spinning toward him. “This is what I get for letting you trap me in this torture device!” She tugs at her corset again, trying to make it feel less tight as Anna and Killian both eye her in concern.

“Do you want me to take you home?” her cousin asks.

Emma nods, but before Anna can respond, Killian offers, sensing she didn’t actually want to leave yet. “I can take her.”

“I-I can,” she assures as Killian wraps his arm around Emma and leads her away. “I can. It’s just...I mean, if you’re volunteering.”

“It’s fine.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Emma mumbles, feeling bad for taking him away from the party.

“Holidate rule number three—leave no holidate behind, remember?” Killian calls an Uber, and when they arrive at her place, he climbs out of the car and turns around to help her out. “Come on, love.”

Emma grabs her clutch and literally crawls out, feeling too tipsy and nauseous to stand on her own two feet. “Just leave me here,” she pleads, not wanting Killian to have to take care of her.

“Nope.” Killian shakes his head and kneels down to help Emma up. “We’re gonna go.”

“Please leave me!”

“No need. I’ve carried beer kegs much heavier than you.” Before Emma can even wonder what he means by that, he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, carrying Emma inside her apartment building. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Emma groans, feeling too drunk and miserable to protest any further as Killian carries her to the elevator before finally setting her down on her feet and pressing the button.

Emma braces her back against the wall so she doesn’t fall over. She can’t believe she let that asshole, Neal, affect her this much. She was doing fine until she met his girlfriend in February at the candy store. Tamara was certainly not pregnant back then, and now she’s about to pop out a baby?!

Wait.

February?

“Oh my god!” she cries out when realization washes over her. “It’s Halloween!”

Killian furrows his brows, his voice full of confusion when he raises his hook. “Hence the costumes.”

She counts on her fingers, reciting the months between February and October. Yep, just as she suspected. “They did it on Valentine’s Day!” she screams, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Everyone did it on Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t do it on Valentine’s Day!”

“Neither did I,” Killian recalls as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

“They barely even knew each other when they started procreating!”

“I know, love, he’s a wanker,” Killian says as he helps Emma into the elevator.

She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing!”

“Trust me, I’ve seen much worse.” he tries to assure her, rubbing her back as Emma presses the button to her floor.

“How could this get worse?!” She can feel the bile rising in her throat as the elevator ascends. At first, she thinks she’s just imagining it because she’s thinking about Neal with Tamara and the age gap between them and how sick it makes her. She’s also had so much chocolate and alcohol, it’s affecting her brain, along with her stomach.

Her eyes widen when she realizes she’s about to vomit. She feels a stab of pain in her stomach, and she claps a hand over her mouth when she starts to gag, trying to force it all down. Suddenly feeling very warm, she tries to pull her top away from her skin to cool down, but then she’s rudely reminded she’s still in this goddamn corset. And she doubts it will give way when she has to puke her guts out.

“Untie me,” she says quietly, her face paling.

Killian stares at her in confusion as she shuffles over, turning her back toward him and trying to reach for the laces of her corset. “What?”

“No questions! Just untie me!”

“Okay…” Killian grabs her waist, pulling her toward him before he reaches for the laces, trying to do as he’s told. Quickly realizing the hook just gets in the way, he hangs it on his belt and tries with two free hands. “What is all this?”

“Hurry!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying.”

Another pain shoots through her stomach, and Emma knows she doesn’t have much time. “You know what, just rip it.” She hops around, trying to tug at the fabric, but it won’t budge. Killian keeps close behind her, trying desperately to untie the laces, but not having any luck. “Just rip it.” She braces against the rail as Killian starts pulling on the corset, trying to tear it off her as she moves her hips toward him. “Rip it. Just fucking rip it off!” she shrieks as the elevator doors slide open, revealing an elderly couple staring at them in horror. But she can certainly understand why. Killian’s standing behind her, trying to pull off her clothes as she’s bent over the elevator rail.

Thankfully, the doors close before the couple can step in.

As soon as the elevator reaches her floor, Emma scrambles out, Killian hot on her heels, working on the laces again.

“You’re locked up like Houdini in this thing!”

“This is all your fault!” Emma cries out as she frantically makes her way down the hall, digging through her purse for her keys.

“Almost got it!” Killian assures after he’s finally able to loosen the laces.

They stumble into the apartment, Emma falling over, Killian still latching on to her from behind, trying to get the pesky corset off. While Emma’s in a very compromising position and he’s trying to take her clothes off—something she’s thought about a hundred times since she met him—this wasn’t exactly how she envisioned this moment.

She finally reaches the bathroom and pushes the door open, vomit rising from her throat.

“I got it!” Killian cheers, holding up the corset in success as she slams the door shut, not wanting him to see her like this.

She bolts for the toilet, but before she can reach it, her stomach is convulsing, vomit is spewing out of her mouth and she’s slipping onto the floor with a scream. “Oh, no!”

“Did you make it?” Killian asks through the door, his voice full of concern.

“Go...away! Go away!”

🎃🎃🎃

Emma has never felt so humiliated or mortified in her entire life as she sits in the back corner of her bathtub, tightly hugging her knees, her hair pulled into a messy bun. To think, she started off the night as a sexy bar wench and now she’s naked, cold and covered in puke, the runny mascara making her look like a raccoon. And to top things off, she had to tell Killian, the most gorgeous man she’s ever met, that she slipped in a puddle of her own vomit. Now he’s holding the showerhead over her back, gently rinsing the vomit off of her.

This night couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Don’t look at me,” she groans, but not because she doesn’t want him to see her naked. She just doesn’t want him to see her at her very worst. She feels pathetic.

“I’m not looking.”

She glances over her shoulder to see if he’s telling the truth. Sure enough, he’s looking in the other direction with the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he shakes his head, making her smile too, despite the situation.

Once she’s clean and in much more comfortable clothes than that god-awful corset, Emma slips into bed and removes the hair tie, letting her long wavy hair fall loose around her shoulders.

Hearing a knock on her door, she looks up to see Killian slowly walking into the room in the pajama pants she got for Christmas, holding out a mug. “Peppermint tea.”

She sits up against her pillows and accepts the drink as Killian sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Helps with nausea.”

“I have peppermint tea?” She arches a brow as she stares into the hot liquid and takes a sip.

“Sort of. It’s just crushed Altoids in boiling water.”

“Hmm.” It’s not bad, actually. She sets the drink on her nightstand and turns toward him again. “So, um...I’m guessing I’ll be an anecdote you tell at parties now? The woman who…” She sighs, her voice quivering and eyes watering with tears. “The woman who…” She tries once again but can’t get the words out.

“The woman who slipped on her own vomit on Halloween?” Killian finishes with a small smile.

“Oh God,” Emma whimpers, pulling the comforter over her head and turning to her side to hide her tears as they fall down her cheeks.

She feels the bed dip a little when Killian climbs in next to her.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone, okay?”

She pokes her head out. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he says sincerely.

She turns around to her other side to face him and wipes her tears. “Thank you,” she whispers, looking up at him.

He flashes a smile as a comfortable silence settles over them. Emma gazes up at him as he stares at the ceiling, sighing. He looks so handsome, his dress shirt still revealing an ample amount of chest hair she wants to run her fingers through. But instead, she closes her eyes and sniffles, wanting to forget this day ever happened, except for the part when she falls asleep next to Killian with his comforting scent wafting around her.

When she wakes the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and dogs barking, the first thing she sees is Killian’s face, which is only an inch away from hers. She blinks the sleepiness from her eyes and turns her head, noticing his hand on her shoulder. When her eyes return to his handsome face, he’s opening his eyes and quickly removing his arm with a quiet apology.

They share a laugh, their eyes locked on one another as the side of her head sinks into the pillow again. Suddenly, all the air is sucked from her lungs, and she can’t breathe as she stares into Killian’s deep blue eyes that seem to set her entire body on fire. She can’t imagine she looks even close to decent; it’s nothing like those movies where the woman wakes up, looking like she's just stepped out of a page of Vogue magazine, with her makeup all perfect and not a hint of sleep on her face. But Killian doesn’t seem to mind her appearance; in fact, he seems to be just as captivated by her as she is by him.

He leans forward to kiss her, but Emma pulls back, covering her mouth with the comforter.

“I have morning breath,” she points out.

He chuckles. “I don’t care, love.”

She laughs when she remembers him saying the same thing after she went down on him and he wanted to kiss her.

He reaches out and removes the blanket from over her mouth, his words melting away her nerves as he closes the distance between them.

As she moves in to meet him halfway, she’s glad she brushed her teeth before she went to bed last night.

Killian cups her cheek in his hand as she closes her eyes and moves her lips against his, allowing herself to give in to him.

His lips are even softer than she remembers, and she cards her hand through his disheveled hair, wanting so much more of him. This kiss is different from any other kiss they’ve had. Lust and a need to be close to someone fueled their previous kisses. But this one... this is so much more than that. There are feelings involved—real, actual feelings. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she hopes he can’t hear it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Emma parts her lips, her searching tongue sweeping inside his mouth to find his, pulling a groan from his throat at the connection that sends a shiver down her spine.

When she wraps a leg around his hip, he pulls her flush against him, letting her feel how incredibly hard he is. She moans as he rolls Emma onto her back and settles between her legs. She grinds against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat as he releases her lips to leave a scorching hot trail of kisses and nips down her neck.

Killian pulls away just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. Emma bites her bottom lip as she admires a shirtless Killian with a raging hunger in his deep pools of blue. She sifts her fingers through his chest hair as he leans in to capture her lips again, his fur even softer than she imagined. Her hands glide up his firm chest and broad shoulders, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He rocks his hips against her, his erection grinding her center through their pants. He feels so good like this, and she can’t wait to have him inside of her. He pulls back once more, helping Emma remove her pants, and he takes her panties with them, throwing the obtrusive clothing to the floor.

Killian takes her foot in his hand and presses a soft kiss to her ankle, his gaze sweeping up her legs and finding her aching core, which is already soaking wet.

“Fucking hell.” His voice is husky and low, his eyes never leaving her pussy. He makes a trail of soft kisses up her leg, and she wants to grab him and have him inside her, but he has different plans.

He presses a soft, wet kiss to her nub, his hot breath warming her skin. Emma whines as Killian parts her thighs and settles between her legs, her heart slamming as he licks up her slit.

“Holy fuck.” She runs one hand through his hair and grabs the sheet with her other one as he eats into her, his tongue soft and warm and talented on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

When she moves her hips, riding his face, she’s rewarded with a rough growl and a speed that has her already panting. “Killian…”

Her fingers tighten around his hair and the bedsheet as he slips his finger inside her and tongues her harder, nibbling softly and sucking on her clit. Everything he’s doing to her is making her head spin as she rests her legs over his shoulders. She peers down at him, and her eyes connect with his. The intensity of his stare as he feasts on her like she’s his last meal takes her breath away.

She didn’t have many partners who could make her cum with their tongue, but Killian has her on the edge after a matter of minutes. She moans loudly as he adds another finger, and her walls clamp around his digits.

“Killian, fuck!” She explodes in his mouth, her body shuddering as a powerful orgasm rips through her. He tries to hold on to her a little longer, but she pushes him away, unable to take anymore.

So he removes his fingers and slips them into his mouth, groaning and telling her how good she tastes.

She’s still trying to recover when his wet lips make their way up her body—her nub, her waist, her stomach. He pushes up her shirt and kisses the valley of her breasts before kissing her lips. She moans when she tastes the tang on his tongue. It makes her want him even more.

Reaching between them, she tugs at the waistband of his pants, and Killian pushes them off until his dick springs free. The mere sight of his thick, aching cock prompts her legs to fall open for him, her breathing still ragged from her orgasm as she waits in anticipation, her heart thudding in her chest.

She crooks her finger, silently calling him over, and he eagerly complies, crushing her lips with his. As soon as she feels his warm cock sliding through her folds, she moans in his mouth and knows if she doesn’t have him soon, she might combust. She snakes her legs around his back and winds her arms around his neck as Killian effortlessly flips them over so she’s on top. She’s straddling his lap as they both rise together, him in a sitting position as he presses soft kisses over her chest. She whimpers in his mouth when she feels his hard dick at her folds and she moves her hips, seeking more friction.

Killian grabs her frame, breaking the kiss to whisper against her lips, his voice completely shattered, “Condoms?”

Emma nods and reaches for her nightstand drawer, pulling out one of the condoms she’s had for far too long. Once she rolls the rubber down his length, she raises her hips, bringing the tip of his cock to her entrance and sinking down, moaning at the delicious feeling of being filled.

He groans and buries his face in her neck, holding her tight as she rolls her hips, her hands roaming his back. Killian tugs at her shirt, and she lifts her arms so he can pull it off of her. Once it’s gone, he captures a soft nipple and slowly sucks each one until they’re both stiff peaks in his warm, inviting mouth.

“Oh God…” She arches her back, running her fingers through his thick, gorgeous locks of hair as he laps at her breasts with his tongue and nibbles and sucks to his heart’s content.

“Fuck, you’re so bloody gorgeous,” he groans, burying his face in her breasts, breathing in her scent, his lips worshipping her like she’s a goddess.

She’s never felt so cherished before…so loved, like nothing else in his world exists.

Only her.

He wraps his arms around her frame, aiding her movements as she rides his cock, their bodies writhing impossibly close in each other’s arms.

Having sex with this man, the same man who spilled his green juice all over her at the mall, is so surreal. She’s known him for ten months and he’s been there for every holiday as her fake boyfriend, her date and also as a friend. And now they’re making love in the middle of her bed, their sounds of pleasure echoing off the walls.

Killian rolls them over so Emma’s head is lying against the pillows as he rams into her, lifting her leg and holding it in place.

She kisses his neck and shoulder, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder and faster.

“You feel so good, love,” he groans in a raspy voice as she rolls her hips up to meet his.

“You do too,” she whispers in his ear, digging her nails into his arms and back as if he’ll take her to Heaven. He just might.

Her eyes roll back when he rubs her clit in addition to his thrusts. He kisses her hungrily as she feels another climax building.

“Killian, I’m about to—” Her walls clench around his cock as another wave of euphoric bliss crashes over her, causing Killian to jerk his hips fast and hard, chasing his own orgasm with a drawn-out groan.

“Emma…” He explodes inside the condom, burying his face in her neck, breathing hoarsely into her hair as his movements slow.

When he pulls out, he falls onto the bed next to her, the two of them lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Wow...” he manages after a moment, his voice raspy. “That was…”

“Yeah...” Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as she tries to wrap her head around what just happened. She didn’t know sex could even be this good. Her legs are shaking, the room is spinning and both of them are panting, trying to catch their breaths.

After Killian forces himself out of bed to dispose of the condom and clean both of them up, he rejoins her in the bed, pulling the blankets over them and holding her close as she rests her head on his chest.

He kisses the top of her head, and a comfortable silence fills the room as she tries to decipher what this means. Do they go back to being friends or holidates or whatever they were before, or do they become something more? She has no idea. She knows she can trust him to not break her heart.

She imagines what it would be like to fill his bathroom with all her girly crap, have him find her bobby pins in odd places when she’s not there and share a panini maker with him, along with a bedroom, and call his place home. She imagines what it would be like for him to be so completely in love with her, he can’t help but be cheesy and drop a knee at midnight on New Year and she imagines actually having babies with him and finally making her mother a grandma. She imagines turning this holidate thing into something more permanent because she thinks she’s falling for him and can’t imagine what it would be like to spend a holiday without him.

Fuck.

Is she actually falling for him?

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks, shoving down her feelings for him.

“Sure, love.” He caresses her cheek, a small smile playing along his lips.

She wishes she knew what he’s thinking. Does he feel the same way about her that she does about him? “Unless you’d rather go. I mean…I—if you want…I…don’t feel obligated to stay.”

He sits up, looking down at her in confusion. “You want me to leave?”

“No,” she replies quickly, sitting up and securing the blanket around herself. “No, I just…” She bites her bottom lip. “I just mean, Halloween’s over, right? So I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

Killian cups her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Well, I don’t wanna leave.”

Emma gulps, unable to breathe under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay.” She laughs nervously, trying to ease the tension in the room. “I’ll just get that coffee now. Be right back.” She climbs out of bed, grabbing her robe from the floor and tugging it around herself as she leaves the room.

Once the coffee is done brewing, Emma pours his into a mug and adds cream to hers before bringing the mugs to the bedroom. He sits up again, leaning against the headboard as he accepts with an appreciative smile. They sip their beverages in a rather awkward silence. Suddenly, such an easy friendship has shifted into something else, and neither of them knows how to act or what to say to each other.

An incessant pounding on her front door pulls Emma from her thoughts, and she shares a look with Killian, not knowing who could be here. She sets her coffee on the nightstand and gets out of bed, leaving the room.

The knocking doesn’t subside until she finally opens the door, revealing a very frantic Elsa.

“I kissed the navy captain!” She storms into the apartment, pulling off her jacket and purse, setting them on the couch.

“What?”

“The navy captain!” Elsa repeats, looking like she’s on the verge of hyperventilating. “I kissed him! We were standing in line at the party last night after we danced, waiting for the restrooms and then suddenly it happened!” She takes a deep breath. “We kissed!”

Emma lifts a brow, not knowing what the issue is. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Elsa paces the room, toying with her fingers. “Well no, he’s handsome and single and rather charming when he’s not being a self-righteous asshole, but...”

“So, what’s the problem?”

Elsa stops in her tracks and shrugs. “The problem is I haven’t kissed anyone since…” She pauses, but doesn’t really have to finish her sentence for Emma to know where she’s going with this.

Emma takes her cousin’s hands in hers, looking her dead in the eyes. “Do you like Liam?”

“No…yes…I mean, I don’t know. I barely know him.” She pulls away, throws herself onto the couch and buries her face in a pillow. “It’s been years since I’ve dated and yet I almost had sex with the naval captain in the restroom!”

“Wait, you almost had sex with him?” Emma runs a hand through her disheveled hair and hears boots clunking across the floor. When she looks toward the noise, she sees Killian entering the room, now fully clothed in his leather pants and the rest of his costume from last night, carrying his hat in his hand, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He obviously heard their conversation. “Good morning, Elsa.”

She freezes and sits up, forcing a smile on her face as she turns to face Killian. “Hi. I was just…telling Emma about this dream I had last night.”

“Right,” Killian says with a wink before gesturing to the door with his pirate hat. “I was just leaving.”

Just before he reaches for the knob, Elsa throws herself off the couch, glancing between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Emma insists with a shake of her head.

At the same time, Killian answers with a “Yes.”

“We were just having coffee,” Emma assures her cousin, crossing her arms.

“Well, maybe I should come back after you’ve had...coffee.”

Killian waves off her suggestion, but Emma can tell by the look on his face, he doesn’t actually want to leave. “You should stay, and I’ll go. You seem really upset about your…dream.” He meets Emma’s eyes. “Okay?”

Emma stays silent, only holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. She feels torn because she doesn’t want Killian to leave, but she also wants to be here for Elsa. Kissing someone and almost having sex with him since her husband passed away is a huge step for Elsa.

Killian waves before pulling the door open. “Bye, ladies.”

Emma waves with a cheerful smile, trying to hide the disappointment in her gut as he heads out. “See you at Thanksgiving!”

The look on Killian’s face—the devastation mixed with disappointment and hurt written all over his expression—makes Emma’s heart clench. And she desperately wants to take back her words. But it’s too late, because Killian is already shutting the door behind him.

“Thanksgiving?” Elsa furrows her brows.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, realizing her mistake. Elsa doesn’t know he was just her holidate. She thinks they were actually dating. Emma heads to the kitchen, knowing they have a lot to discuss. “Want some coffee?”

#cs ff #captain swan #holidate au

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stubbychaos · 4 years

Text

A Guilty Conscience

Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*

Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!

Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!

Also thank you to @coredrive for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!

“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”

You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.

“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.

Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.

Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.

The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.

“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.

Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.

As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.

It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.

For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.

Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.

Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.

Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.

You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.

A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.

He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong?

“Paz, are you okay?”

His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.

You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.

"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."

You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.

You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.

You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.

A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.

Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.

He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”

The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”

“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”

Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.

This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.

He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.

Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.

A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.

Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.

“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.

He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”

“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”

Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”

“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”

“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”

His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”

You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.

“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”

“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”

“I love you, Paz.”

He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.

“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”

Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”

You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.

He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.

In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.

“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.

“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”

For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.

It is none of your business.

“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”

You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.

For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.

As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.

The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.

“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”

Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”

You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”

“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.

“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”

You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.

Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.

After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.

“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”

Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”

You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”

“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”

Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.

“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”

Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.

Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.

With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts.

You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.

In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.

You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.

They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.

You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.

“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”

He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”

You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?

“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”

Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?

Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”

He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.

‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.

“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”

You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”

“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”

You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.

“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”

“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”

You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.

“Ezir Ralas.”

You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”

He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”

“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”

He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”

You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.

With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”

“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”

“How big were they?”

“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”

Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”

“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”

You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.

“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”

You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.

“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”

He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”

Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.

“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”

“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”

“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”

Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”

You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.

“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”

No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.

“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”

Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”

“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”

You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.

“Will you tell me more about you?”

“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”

“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”

Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.

“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”

You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.

You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”

“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”

You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”

Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.

“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh uh,” You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”

“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”

“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”

You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?��

He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”

Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”

“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”

You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.

Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.

“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”

“I have other things to--”

Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”

“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”

Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.

With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.

Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.

After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.

You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.

“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”

She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.

You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.

Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.

A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.

You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.

It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.

You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.

“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”

Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.

You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.

“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”

The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”

His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.

“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”

He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.

“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.

“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”

He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”

You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.

How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?

You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”

The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.

“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”

You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”

You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.

“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”

And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.

“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”

“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”

He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”

He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.

“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.

You truly don’t think he��s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.

“Odisian.”

“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”

Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.

“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”

Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.

“Rosie?”

He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.

“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”

You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.

You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.

“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”

“Cyare.”

Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.

“Is something wrong, Paz?”

“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”

Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”

You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.

Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.

"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”

Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.

“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.

Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”

The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face.

Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.

It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.

“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”

He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.

“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”

He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.

“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”

You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.

You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.

An infant…

There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.

Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.

“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”

You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”

“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”

You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.

You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.

“What are you--?”

The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.

“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”

“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”

You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”

“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”

‘Need a breather.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.

He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant.

You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.

“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”

The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”

“Cyare--”

“I will explain later.”

The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.

Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.

“Hey thank you for--”

You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.

“Cyare! What’s going--?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”

Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.

“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”

You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”

He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”

“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”

Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.

“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”

You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.

Translations:

Ner cyare=My beloved

Mesh’la=Beautiful

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Verd’ika= Little soldier

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm @karaabove @clydesducktape @misssilvertongue @heartxheat @pazvizslasgirl4ever (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)

Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33

#paz vizla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #Paz vizsla x you #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #my writing #IDK WHY I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS CHAPTER OML #I hope you guys enjoy it tho <3 #also now y'all know why christina and I were fighting over wearing socks to bed lmfao

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risingalonesworld · 2 years

Text

“Beef up”

Here’s a memoir I have written. I hope you find inspiration and motivation in this happening in my life.

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The first thing that came to my mind as I recall the pasts of my life was that even when I was a kid, my mom would leave us to our grandparents and other relatives whom she entrusted to look after me and my sisters. I always like to come with her, and as we grow older and older, we only have limited time where we get together, it’s as if time is always chasing us. As I grew up without the presence of my mom, most of the time, when I was young, I envied those children who brought their mothers during events like family day in school. Good thing, I had amazing friends who always cheered me up at times that I felt like crying. They encouraged me to join dance competitions which sometimes made me anxious about joining, but with their constant support, I managed to build my confidence in joining competitions with such activities. We enjoyed the presence of one another, we played, we laughed, and we cried together. It was so fun. Not until 2nd of April 2016 came, all of a sudden my life became hazy. It felt like I was drowning in stumbling blocks. As I aimed my eyes towards the approaching shuttlecock under the scorching sun, I positioned my hands against it hoping to hit it nicely. Alas, I failed. And as I straddle to reach the shuttlecock on the ground, my eyes burned and it felt as if the world was shaking. Veins in head started beating rapidly. It was traumatizing. I almost faint at that time. Good thing our house was just a few inches away back then, so I rushed through our house. Immediately went to my bedroom, I lied down but I felt so hot at that time. It’s as if the sun was just a crawl away, as I tried to stand up, my hands and feet were stuck on the floor, I was paralyzed, all I could do was cry. I couldn’t even shout because I’m too tired back then. And suddenly, I wanted to pee. But sadly, I couldn’t lift myself up, and I was panicking because I couldn't take it anymore. So I peed myself on the bed and I tried to shout, finally my voice became audible enough for my family to hear me and I heard a loud shout. “Liya!”. It was my uncle. And as soon as he shut his mouth from shouting, all of them ran towards me like predators about to devour their prey. They carried me to the car and rushed me to the hospital. All of them were trying to overtake all of the cars that were ahead of us. My tears won;t stop from falling from my eyes, and since I don’t like car air fresheners, I vomited which made my blood pressure higher and it felt like my eyes would pop because of how painful my head was. As we arrive at the nearest hospital. I felt a little grasp of freedom from suffocation. But I still couldn’t feel anything that time but a severe headache. My uncles were continuously shouting “Nurse!! Nurse!!!”, making a fuss in the hospital just to call the attention of the nurses. As I opened my eyes from a deep slumber, all I could hear was the voices of my family whimpering. I was saddened by the thought I made, I thought that I will have to deal with this challenge without my mom, beside me. But I was wrong, because I heard my mom’s voice, I saw her, she was crying, and talking beside me. We were holding hands back then, my tears fell because I knew that I couldn’t deal with this without my mother. She looked after me until the day I had to go to therapy and recover. Until this day, I kept on reminiscing about this memory, the fear of having to deal with this alone, and even those days I was having to bear with the pain of not being able to do the things I liked to do. I was depressed, and I’ve dealt with this alone. I had to think of ways on how to entertain myself without moving too much. I was ashamed of it back then, because I thought that people would bully or pity me about it. I thought that it’s not something that people should feel sorry for. Hence, I thought I could study how to write a poem. And since then, as I learn how to write poems, I’ve made it a hobby, whenever I feel something different, I’d write a poem about it. Then one day, as I write a poem at 3am, I realized that I shouldn’t hide this and I must not feel ashamed about it because even if I hide it or not people will still find out and that I should not degrade myself about it because I’m still able to do things I like.

#inspire poetic #photo not mine

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sincerelyella · 3 years

Text

Always Remember Us This Way Part 3

Book: The Royal Romance/Heir (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x OC (Alyssa Devereaux Walker)

Song Inspiration: Always Remember Us This Way by Lady Gaga

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Queen Ella Rys and Malia Rys belong to me; Alyssa Walker was created by the brilliant mind of @burnsoslow and used with permission.

Catch up here

A/N: In celebration of King Liam and Queen Ella’s baby girl being born in TRH2 I wanted to write something to commemorate it (kinda). Some things are canon, but don’t expect it to follow the book much.

Big thank you to @burnsoslow for reading over this and editing and making suggestions so I don’t sound (too much) like a crazy person.

Warnings: Adult language; some fluff in there; TW: Angst: TW: blood; TW: childbirth complications; TW: possible major character death. Also, I do not work in a maternity unit at my hospital so please excuse any inaccuracies.

Words: 1455

“Wh-where is she, Liam?” Alyssa looked up at the young king with watery eyes.

He gestured for her and Drake to follow him; Liam led them to another hallway and pushed open a door that led them to a private waiting area.

“Tell us what happened; is Ella okay?” Drake prodded.

Liam let out a breath. “We had the baby … a baby girl, a couple of hours ago.”

Drake and Alyssa were excited and happy for him, but had no idea how to react at that moment; Liam’s expressionless face confused them.

“Oh okay, that’s … great, Li.” Drake said cautiously with furrowed brows.

“Her name is … Malia …” his voice hitched. “Afterwards, Ella became … unresponsive …” he trailed off before his voice cracked. He was trying so hard to keep up that stoic facade he was so good at. His fist was up against his mouth as he swallowed down the emotion he was feeling, it was bubbling up to the surface and he couldn’t let the dam unhinge in front of their friends. He looked up at Drake and Alyssa’s shocked faces. Drake looked away and rubbed his hand over his mouth trying to keep his emotions in check; Alyssa’s tears started to fall down her cheeks, her mouth open.

“What do you ... mean unresponsive, Liam? What are you trying to tell us? Is she … did she …” Alyssa choked on the words, not wanting to say them out loud. She grabbed Drake’s hand and squeezed, just to make sure she wasn’t asleep, that this wasn’t some terrible dream.

“She started to … bleed” - he sniffled and audibly swallowed - “and the doctor said she lost … a lot of blood. So much that she went unconscious and her … blood pressure got really low.” Trying to recount the events of the day out loud was mentally exhausting; this emotional rollercoaster he was on was starting to make him feel sick to his stomach. “They finally got her stable … for now. From what they’re saying, they want to keep a close eye on her here in the ICU … just in case … things start up again.”

“I need to see her, Liam” - Lyssa pushed out the words with great difficulty through her sobs - “take me to her. Please!”

He nodded, opened the door and led them to Ella’s room. The guard standing outside of it moved and allowed them to slip inside the sliding glass into the dark hospital suite. They could hear the steady beeping of the monitor that was hooked up to Ella’s finger. Liam cleared his throat. “She’s still asleep, and they aren’t sure when she’ll ... wake up.”

Alyssa sat next to Ella’s bed and held her hand. “I need you to wake up now, El. We’re going to raise our babies together … all of us are going to watch football and they’re going to be besties … just like us.” The last words she spoke wavered and she sucked in an unsteady breath as more tears fell; Alyssa stared at her closest friend’s face, willing her to open her eyes. “Malia needs you to wake up now. She needs her momma,” she whispered. Alyssa squeezed Ella’s hand and continued to talk, knowing she could probably hear her even though she was asleep.

Drake and Liam looked on as Alyssa had her conversation with Ella, both men not saying a word just yet, but comforted to have the other there with them.

Liam looked at his best friend. “Thank you … both of you for coming.”

Drake nodded. “You should have called, Liam.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I ... my brain wasn’t functioning. All I could think about was Ella and what she said to me before ...”

“What did she say?” Drake turned to face him with an inquiring look on his face.

“A couple of weeks ago, she made me promise” - Liam paused and pulled his lips between his teeth to stop any tears from falling before he continued - “She made me promise that if it came down to saving her or the baby … to save the baby.”

Drake nodded in understanding but couldn’t say anything. Now that Alyssa was pregnant, he couldn’t even fathom promising that to her. In that moment, he felt that crushing weight on his chest that he knew his brother was feeling. “Li, where is Malia?”

“She’s in the maternity unit. Do you want to see her?”

Drake glanced at his wife. “Lyss, did you want to see Malia?”

Alyssa looked up at her husband. “Yes, let’s go. If Ella can’t hold her, I will.” She turned back towards her friend and whispered softly, “I’m going to go and cuddle her for you, Ella. Love you.” She squeezed her hand before letting go.

The three of them made their way towards the elevators and down to the maternity unit. As they approached Malia’s suite, they saw that the guard stood off to the side and the door was wide open. Liam began to panic, his heart rate picked up as he ran inside to see who was in the room with his newborn daughter. There were two nurses and a physician standing over Malia, and Liam’s heart dropped. “What’s going on? What happened to my daughter?” His voice boomed through the large suite and all three healthcare workers turned in surprise.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” the physician spoke as all three women dropped to curtsy. “My name is Dr. Gold; I’m the pediatrician on call, and I came to check on Malia. She’s doing just fine; I was just doing my rounds. These are my nurses, Claire and Nicole.”

Liam breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry. With the day I’ve been having I … panicked.”

Drake patted him on the shoulder as he held Alyssa close to his side. “We’re going to sit over here, Li. I don’t want Lyss standing too long.”

Alyssa quirked her brow up at her husband. “I’m fine, baby, I haven’t even been standing for five minutes.” Drake gave her a look and led her to the other side of the room where there was a small loveseat with a TV was set up.

“Your Majesty, I wanted to let you know that Malia’s lungs sound great and she’s eating and going to the bathroom normally. Do you have any questions for me?”

Liam shook his head. “Not that I can think of, thank you for checking on her.”

“Of course, sir. We’ll be over at the nurse’s station if you need anything.” The women curtsied again and left the room.

Liam approached Malia and picked her up in his arms. She sighed happily in her sleep as he lifted her and cradled her little body in the crook of his arm. He walked slowly over to Drake and Alyssa.

“Malia, I want you to meet your Uncle Drake and Aunt Alyssa.”

Alyssa stood quickly and stretched her arms out to take the baby from Liam. He smiled and placed Malia into her auntie's waiting arms. “Oh. My. God. Hiiii, little Malia!” Her eyes welled with happy tears as she cooed at the baby. “You are so beautiful like your momma, yes you are!”

Drake came and stood behind his wife and smiled down at Malia as he cradled her small head in his large hand. “She’s gorgeous, Li. Congrats!” He stepped to the side and hugged Liam; both men patted each other on the back. As they parted, Drake gave Liam a curious look. “What does Malia mean anyway? Is it a family name?

“It’s Hawaiian. It literally translates to ‘Mary’ and it means ‘calm, gentle waters’. Ella loved it when she first heard the name.” Liam smiled at the memory. “We figured the future Queen of Cordonia needed all of the calm, gentle waters she could get.”

Drake chuckled. “You’re right. That’s a really beautiful name too.”

“I, uh, wanted to stay with Ella … I don’t want her waking up alone if she does at all. Do you … guys mind staying with Malia?”

“I was going to do that anyway, Liam.” Alyssa smiled wide as she kept her eyes trained on Malia. “We’ll stay here and practice our parenting skills, right, Malia? You wanna stay with your Auntie Lyss and Uncle Drake, don’t you?”

Liam laughed. It was the first real laugh he let out since before everything happened with Ella. “I don’t know what we’d do without you guys.”

Drake pushed him towards the door. “Go. Let us know when she wakes up.”

Liam smiled and nodded his head. He opened the door and walked towards the elevators, making his way back up to the fourth floor to be with his wife. As he approached the area, he saw the door to her suite was opened with the guard standing just slightly to the side of it. What now? Liam raced into the room and saw Dr. Ramirez sitting on the hospital bed, smiling. His eyes snapped over to Ella, who was now awake, staring at him with those beautiful light brown eyes he loved so much.

“Ella …” he whispered.

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magnoliasinbloom · 4 years

Text

Lie To Me - 9

AO3 :: Previously

Claire blinks, visibly baffled. For a moment, she doesn’t even know what to say, processing what Jamie’s revelation means for their own relationship. She shakes her head to clear it. “You say that having children is one way for your uncles to take the land. How do you manage to not… you know?” Claire blushes.

“Och, Sassenach, I’ve told them that the burns may have made me… unable to sire children. Nerve damage and such.” Jamie matches her reddening cheeks. They both know he is perfectly capable of performing.

“The other way they win is if you—you die. Does this mean that they’ve tried that?”

“Not yet. I agreed to marry as well because Jenny has bairns of her own, including boys. They can inherit too, but I dinna wish my uncles to harm them in their pursuit of wealth and power.” Jamie’s voice is hard. “There was the fire, but that was merely a happy accident that didna turn out as well as they would have hoped.”

“The fire? Your scars?” Claire asks, and Jamie and Murtagh exchange glances.

“Start at the beginning, a bhalaich. Dinna confuse the puir lassie.” Murtagh pours them another tumblerful. Claire is still nursing the first drink, her mind reeling with the information regarding Jamie’s marriage.

“A few years ago, I was working late at night at the Leoch office building. I was still inexperienced, tryin’ to prove meself at the job. I had a colleague; his name was Alexander McGregor.” Jamie’s eyes are full of shame, but his voice is steady. “He had stayed that night too. When I was finally leaving, I noticed he was in a private conference room, with the blinds drawn. That was smart, for Alex knew there were cameras in there. I thought it might be something serious, for their talk grew so heated I could hear the argument coming from the room. I thought I’d knock and defuse the situation.” Jamie paused to take a deep draught. Claire is tempted to reach for his hand and comfort him, but senses this is a story he has to tell for himself.

“Before I could turn the doorknob, I heard a muffled gunshot and I broke into the room. I could only see Alex for a second, slumped in a chair, blood pouring from a hole in his stomach. The man struck me in the heid wi’ the gun, and I dropped like a stone.” Claire gasps softly.

Jamie plows ahead resolutely. “I woke up a few minutes later when I smelled the smoke, the gun in my own hand, and it was already too late. Alex was dead, and the room was up in flames. The man had rigged the wiring on the overhead lights when he left and caused the fire, disabling the sprinklers too. Wi’ the closed door, it was an inferno. My back was seared and blistered, the skin peeling off as I tried to get Alex’s body out. Or so the doctors told me. ‘Twas a miracle I survived at all.”

Murtagh clears his throat. “He was in the hospital for a month. Jenny and I were terribly worried, thinking he might not pull through.”

“But why?” Claire bursts out, bewildered. “Why kill Alex?”

“Alex discovered internal documents that implicated men in power, links to bank accounts of several police officers, judges, and politicians on Leoch Holdings’ payroll. My uncles were—are—trading money for favors, overturning convictions, and legislating in the company’s interests.”

“During the investigations, we found no trace of any document in the room, most everything had burned up,” Murtagh says. “There was also no CCTV footage available. Someone had tampered with the video.” With this, the old man stood up, and unlocked a metal filing cabinet next to his desk. Claire watched in fascination as he manipulated a false bottom and extracted a fat manila envelope. “But then we got these.”

“Murtagh took care of my dingy flat while I was in hospital. Alex had messengered over copies of the documents in secret—wise of him, to leave no digital trace. There was a letter explaining what it all meant, and who the man was—Stephen Bonnet, he’s a commander in the force. Murtagh saw it, and could verify that my name was not on the records. Therefore, I was unlikely to be involved in my uncles’ dirty business.”

“Why did he not tell you from the start?” Dread was settling into Claire’s very bones, as she grasped the magnitude of the situation.

“He didna trust me, I imagine. Upon his discovery, he assumed I was in cahoots with my uncles, bein’ family and all. But I made certain comments to him that probably convinced him I was unaware of their dealings.”

“What did you tell him?”

“At the time, when I started at Leoch, my uncles were pressuring me to date and marry Laoghaire. I told Alex this, and said that it was wrong and I plain didna want to, and if they fired me for it, they could go fuck themselves and I’d work bagging groceries at Tesco before I’d let them bully me like that.” Claire almost smiles at this vehement outburst. “I lost on that account.”

“And Bonnet?”

“He was listed under an assumed name on the documents. That’s why Alex, poor lad, didna think he might be involved either. Bonnet fixed it so Alex’s body was not autopsied, so no one could ken of the gunshot wound that killed him. The McGregors were told there were no real remains, and they had only ashes to mourn. My uncles—”

“Threatened your life if you exposed them and forced you to marry,” Claire finishes for him. “But there is no proof of you doing any wrong!”

Murtagh sighed. “We thought so as weel. But Colum and Dougal’s reach is much longer than ye ken.”

“They had tech experts alter images and deep fake a video that pin Alexander’s death on me,” Jamie says. Claire shakes her head.

“But surely anyone—”

“’Tis my word against theirs. With their endless resources and contacts in law enforcement and the courts, who would believe me?” Jamie’s tone is final and resigned.

Silence weighs heavy in the air; Murtagh collects their empty glasses and sets them on his desk. “I’ve used my position in the force to continue to gather evidence, more papers, whatever I can use to help bring Colum and Dougal MacKenzie to justice, and absolve Jamie from any blame. I’ve involved Chief John Grey from the SCD, Specialist Crime Division, who works with organized crime, and it’s taken us years to be able to discern who to trust and who is in Leoch’s pockets.”

Claire is stunned at this turn of events. She had expected a godfather who at best, might cajole her into believing that Jamie’s marriage was a lie, an economic convenience of sorts, and that had been true after a fashion. But she had not predicted that this was an issue involving crime, illegal activities, and the death of an innocent man. Jamie appears to read her thoughts.

“That is the truth, Sassenach, and I trust ye enough that I ken well ye willna expose the ongoing investigation, or speak to anyone about what happens at Leoch. I’ve endangered yer very life by making ye privy to my story, and for that I am truly sorry.”

“Jamie, I—” Claire’s voice breaks. She casts about for what she wants to say. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t say anything, not even to Geillis,”—at this she remembers G is still waiting in the lobby— “and… and I want you to understand, we are what we make ourselves, we use what we have, and we decide what we are. You, James Fraser, are an honorable man.”

X-x-X

Jamie remains behind to spend time going over new evidence with Murtagh. Claire assures him Geillis and she will head straight to their flat, and he asks if she would call him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to assume, he doesn’t want to lie anymore; he will give her time to think, to decide if this is something she also wants, if she feels as he does, their short acquaintance be damned. Can Claire risk her heart?

There is an unbearable weight of sorrow pressing upon Claire’s spirit; as she rides the elevator, descending numbers flashing in the display, she racks her brain trying to figure out if there is anything, anything at all she can do to ease his burden.

When she spots Geillis waiting for her, she realizes how lucky she is to have a friend like her—unconditional, constant, a forever kind of friend. G had been there for her in her darkest times, even when…

Suddenly it hits Claire. Without a word, Geillis follows her out into the rainy Glasgow night.

“What’s happened? Are ye convinced? Was he telling the truth?”

“Oh, G. I can’t even tell you. He’s for real, and he’s just been so unlucky in life… I have to help him.”

“What do you mean? Help him how?”

“I’m going to call Frank.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #ltm9

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obsessivelollipoplalala · 3 years

Note

If I was Mary, I would have accepted the fact that Freddie was gay and moved on with my life. If she really knew Freddie as well as she claims she did, she would know that Freddie struggled to let people go and that's part of the reason why he kept her so close. I would have reassured Freddie that I wasn't going anywhere and he'd always be my friend, but also that I need to start making a life for myself and that he didn't need to "look after me" out of guilt because our break up wasn't his fault. I would stay in touch with him, hang out with him, maybe even work for him if he wanted me to. But I'd always remind him that he didn't have to worry about losing me; he's my friend, he always will be, and I'll never resent him for being true to himself. I would find myself a nice boyfriend, get married if I wanted to, have kids and be more than just "Freddie Mercury's ex girlfriend."

If I was Mary, I would have been supportive whenever Freddie was in a relationship with another man. I'd squeal and go "tell me everything!" whenever he announced he had a new boyfriend. When we were out and about, I'd check out guys walking past and go, "what about him? Is he your type?" We'd trawl through bars together and I'd hook him up with someone after a few too many drinks. Of course, if I felt he was in an abusive situation or was being taken advantage of, I'd warn him, but at the end of the day he's a grown man, I'm not his mother, and it's not my place to stick my nose in someone else's relationships. I would let him know that I was there for him if he ever needed advice and that if he was happy, I was happy too, because that's what best friends do. Freddie would never feel the need to hide the gay aspect of his life from me because he'd know I'd never judge him for it.

If I was Mary, the first day I met Jim, I'd have given him the biggest hug and joked with Freddie about how he landed himself his own Burt Reynolds. Whenever Jim and Freddie had a row, I'd be the one to slap Freddie round the head (metaphorically) and go, "you have an amazing man right there! Stop trying to sabotage your own happiness!" I'd be jumping up and down, squealing like a little girl when Freddie showed me his wedding ring. Freddie and Jim would be the cool gay uncles my kids looked up to. When Freddie fell ill, I'd make it clear to Jim that I was there for him as well as Freddie, and if he ever needed a shoulder to cry on, I'd be right there. I would be there to support Jim whenever things became too much and when Freddie died, I would sit in the first car with him on the way to the funeral, holding his hand the entire time. I would let him stay in Garden Lodge during his bereavement period, and the day he decided to leave, I'd kiss him on the cheek and tell him my door is always open for him. We'd meet up occasionally, usually on Freddie's birthday or the anniversary of his death, drink tea, play with the cats and talk about the old days, comfortable in knowing that we both have each other to help us through this difficult time. I would make sure Jim knows that I love and care about him as much as I did Freddie.

If I was Mary, after Freddie's death I wouldn't have immediately turned Freddie's house into Fort Knox. I would have told the GL boys that they could stay as long as they needed to, until they came to terms with what happened. Phoebe would always have a job there if he wanted it. If Joe needed any financial or emotional support for his illness, all he had to do was ask. Jim could take all the photographs and memorabilia/gifts from Freddie that he wanted, they were his after all. You want to take one or two of the cats with you? Of course! They were your pets to begin with and anyway, it'll be hard enough having two kids in the house without having to contend with five cats.

If I was Mary, I would have told the truth about what happened during Freddie's final days instead of spreading bullshit like he was blind to tabloids that I knew he hated. I wouldn't let the press into Freddie's house to have a tacky photoshoot where I pose as the "grieving widow." I would squash the rumours that Freddie died alone. I would squash rumours that Freddie deliberately infected people. I would squash rumours that he never found love. I would tell the world that Freddie Mercury was loved by many, many people, and during the end of his life he was nursed by three men, one of which he loved as a husband (without outing Jim of course.) I wouldn't take the credit for Freddie's care when the people who looked after him, fed him, bathed him, medicated him, helped him to the bathroom and sat with him through the night were Jim, Joe and Phoebe, two of which who were HIV+ themselves.

If I was Mary, I wouldn't make everything about myself. I would make a point of dismissing all the misconceptions surrounding AIDS. I wouldn't selfishly say that it was decent of Freddie to tell me he was gay because it meant I didn't get AIDS. I wouldn't describe Freddie's coming out as "he became a gay." I wouldn't lowkey blame Freddie for "pressuring" me into accepting his fortune. I wouldn't act like a victim and blame everyone else for my own actions. I wouldn't tell Jim that "Freddie was waiting for him," knowing full well that he was suffering from HIV and likely scared for his own mortality. I wouldn't cut ties with all of Freddie's loved ones, throw out his grieving spouse, trash his bandmates, moan and bitch about being given his bulk of his estate and promote myself as the "love of his life."

If I was Mary, I would behave like a decent human being. Something the real Mary seemed incapable of.

#i'm not adding anything because I don't have anything #long post #replies #Anonymous

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

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the way it was - chapter 41

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: graphic depictions of violence (updated)

read on ao3

1915

and i’ll see you in the high and low

in the high and low i’ll find you

“Are you ready?”

“Hm?” Roy’s head turned towards her. She’d broken him out of his thoughts. His expression had been miles away as he sat on the edge of his hospital bed in quiet contemplation. Riza was curious about what had taken up so much of his attention but didn’t enquire. If he wanted to share, he would.

“I asked if you were ready to go,” she explained softly.

“Oh, yes.” Roy straightened his spine and placed both hands flat on his thighs. “I’m ready.”

Riza took his hand in hers and angled her body so they were walking side by side. Her other hand rose to grasp his elbow, cradling it within her palm.

“Thank you,” Roy smiled. He gave her hand a tiny nudge with his elbow.

“It’s no problem, Roy. You know that.”

“I know, but you’ve helped me so much and without complaint.”

Riza laughed to herself. “I’m happy to help.”

“How is your neck? And your shoulder? Let me know if you need to stop or sit down.”

“They’re fine, Roy. There’s no pain. And I will, don’t worry.”

Yesterday while they’d been on their first walk out of their room Riza had a sudden bout of light-headedness. They’d been on their way to a payphone to finally call Chris, after a few days of no contact. Breda had appointed himself their liaison and provided her with an update on their current situation, as both Roy and Riza had been on bedrest since their arrival. They were itching to speak to her, and possibly speak to Mia, but it hadn’t come to pass. On their way there Riza had clumsily fallen into a chair as her vision blurred into a solid grey colour, letting go of Roy and frightening him with her abrupt silence. The feeling had passed over her in a slow wave as she clutched at her forehead. It was painless but disorientating. While Roy had frantically called her name, a nurse found them and recognised Riza’s signs. She placated Roy with a quick explanation as Riza was unable to do it herself. All of her focus was on breathing and not passing out, so was unable to formulate any kind of sentence. They both were promptly whisked back to their room after that and it seemed Roy wouldn’t be quick to forget about that incident.

She’d lost a lot of blood, so her body was still trying to recover it, the doctor had explained. Riza started to worry she may be kept in longer than Roy. Of course, she was concerned for herself and her own wellbeing. The sooner she recovered, the sooner her children could come home to her. But, if Roy was discharged by himself… Their home wasn’t equipped for housing someone who was blind. She had to get things organised, rearrange rooms, create paths for him…

And then there was their children to think about as well. She couldn’t take care of them while being so weak. Thankfully, they were still in Xing with Chris and the girls. Riza would love for them to come home, but it wasn’t feasible or practical. If they did they’d have to stay with Chris and both parents knew Mia would be wondering where they were. She’d be constantly asking after them. To save her any worry and stress, they agreed, if it was all right with Chris, to keep them both in Xing until they left the hospital. It saved them giving an explanation to a child who was too young to understand properly what had happened to them.

Breda confirmed Chris had agreed to that plan. She’d been thinking the same thing too. Riza was grateful to have one weight lifted off her mind, but all those thoughts and worries were still threatening to give her a headache.

“What are you thinking about?” Roy’s expression was one of concentration, as if he were listening to something intently. However, she hadn’t said a word or uttered a sound.

One thing that did strike Riza was he could still pick up on a shift in her mood. It may not be the same as before, but it made her smile to know there was still some sort of connection between them.

But that smile quickly fell.

“The future,” Riza replied.

Roy patted her arm in sympathy and understanding. He kept it there too, which was a comfort. He was supporting her, as she was doing the same to him.

“I was thinking about when we’ll be discharged,” she elaborated further. “About whether or not we’ll leave at the same time, or if one of us will go first.”

“I was wondering that too,” Roy admitted. “The doctors are pleased with your progress, but you lost a lot of blood and –” He cut himself off for a moment, swallowing thickly as he stumbled over the memory of their time in the tunnels. “And you need time to recover. It’s a large wound, they tell me.” The pressure on her forearm increased. “They need to keep you in for further observation to ensure it doesn’t get infected.”

Riza knew all of this already but reasoned if it helped Roy to find some semblance of peace to go through everything aloud then she wouldn’t take that away from him.

“My hands are still pretty bad too,” he added. “The surgery went well but there was a lot of damage. I need to be kept in for them, not to mention for rehabilitation as well.”

“I just don’t want you to be sent home without me,” she admitted quietly.

“I know. I don’t particularly want to go home by myself either.” He chuckled to himself, “I would be a walking hazard without you.”

She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, however, the worry still weighed heavily on her mind.

“I don’t think they would let me leave without some kind of system of care in place though,” Roy mused.

“Once your hands are better you’ll need to start practicing with your cane.”

He pouted playfully. “But you’re a much preferable guide.”

Riza smirked. “Unfortunately, I can’t be with you every minute of every day.”

Roy hummed. “I don’t know, that does sound pretty wonderful to me.”

“You know what I mean,” she scolded lightly, but let out a light laugh.

“I know, love,” he reassured with a smile. “How do you feel about us potentially training Hayate to help me out around the house?”

Riza bit her lip. “That’s a lot to put on him.”

“I don’t mean full-time. It was mostly for helping me move around.”

“He’s not trained for that though,” she argued.

“It was just a thought.” He lifted a hand in surrender. “Obviously if you’re not happy with it then we won’t. My only thought was he’s such a good dog already and can listen very well. He’s so attentive. He’d probably work very well as a service dog.”

“With the correct training from the correct people, he probably would, yes.”

“I don’t think it would work out anyway,” Roy sighed heavily.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” She was confused.

“Can you imagine me trying to take Mia’s best friend away from her?”

Riza snorted lightly. “They are inseparable,” she agreed.

“No, I couldn’t tear those two apart. That wouldn’t be fair. Who knows,” Roy shrugged, “it may come naturally to us. Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I can ask for an update and a time estimate from the doctors this afternoon. That may put our minds at rest a little?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Riza nodded. “It would be nice to know some kind of timeframe, if possible, and find out what we have to work with.”

“And we won’t be without help. The team has already discussed this scenario too, apparently.”

Riza cocked her head towards him in surprise.

“If I was to be discharged first, they offered their assistance at home. Rebecca did too. Although,” Roy smirked, “I think she only wants to make sure I don’t destroy the place on your behalf,” he quipped.

“They really offered?”

Roy nodded. “They’re happy to help out.”

Riza was touched. A fond smile spread across her face as she thought of the men who’d devoted their lives to her husband. She knew they were close but hadn’t realised that would extend to outside their work lives as well. Riza didn’t know why though, she suddenly thought. They already thought of themselves as unofficial uncles to Mia, and now to Maes as well. They’d also already offered such assistance to her when Roy was in the hospital last year. After that realisation, Riza supposed it would be a natural progression. Her smile grew wider.

“They’re a good group of people.”

Roy hummed in agreement. “The best group of people.”

They continued on their walk and reached their destination, a payphone.

“We’re here.”

“Trip number two was a success,” he beamed.

“It was, thankfully,” Riza chuckled. She guided Roy over to a chair beside the phone and sat him down. Rebecca had brought her purse in from home, so Riza rummaged around within for the spare change she needed to make the call.

The phone rang four times before someone answered.

“Hello?” The gruff voice on the other side of the line made Riza smile immediately. It was a welcome sound and a voice she’d missed hearing.

“Chris? It’s Riza.”

She didn’t speak until after a short pause. “Riza?” Before she could open her mouth to confirm, Chris called Vanessa’s name, Riza assumed over her shoulder, holding the receiver away. “Good to finally hear from you, Riza.

“I know. Sorry it’s been a while.”

Chris scoffed. “No need to apologise for that. Breda has kept me up to date. How are you doing?”

We’re okay.” She glanced over at Roy who was trying to listen in to their conversation. “A little beat up, but all right.”

“Beat up?” Her question was short and sharp.

Perhaps Breda hadn’t shared some of the finer details with Chris.

“Yes. I sustained some injuries, but they’re being treated. We’re calling from the hospital.”

“And Roy? How’s he?”

Breda definitely hadn’t shared all of the details.

“Lieutenant Breda only really told me you were alive and would be all right,” Chris continued.

Riza could appreciate that. How does one stranger tell another that their son was now blind and their daughter-in-law suffered life threatening injuries?

She glanced over at Roy, noticing how his lips were pressed into a thin line. He gestured for the phone. It was time for him to break the news of his new condition.

“He wants to tell you himself,” she replied carefully.

Chris was quiet for a second. “All right.” Her words were sombre as she spoke.

“Hi, Chris,” Roy greeted.

Riza silently remained by his side. She placed a hand atop his head as he informed his mother that he was now blind and what had happened to his hands. Her fingers ran through his hair, playing with his dark tresses to try comfort and soothe him.

“Yeah… We won.”

A proud smile spread across Riza’s face as Roy broke their other news.

A chuckle left him as Chris spoke again. “I know, I know,” Roy relented. “There’s a long way to go yet, but yes, we did it. The plan succeeded.”

They spoke back and forth for a few more moments before Roy paused.

“Mia?” Roy’s head turned towards Riza’s body, facing into her stomach. Her fingers froze in his hair as she spotted his expectant look. Riza’s heart leapt into her throat. “Yes, please. If you could put her on.”

There was a sudden movement that disrupted Riza from her thoughts. Roy had felt out the chair next to him and slid over. The one he’d vacated was offered to Riza, and she took it immediately. The cord of the phone was long enough so they could sit with their heads together and place the phone in between them, letting both parents speak to their daughter.

The other line was quiet. Riza held her breath and waited. There was some shuffling then they heard Mia speak in a quiet voice, sounding far away.

“Mia?” Riza’s voice caught in her throat as she spoke her daughter’s name with so much hope and excitement. She was almost overwhelmed with how much she missed her children and couldn’t wait to hear her voice again.

“Mummy?”

Relief like no other flowed through Riza’s veins. She relaxed completely into her chair with her elation. “Mia, hi. It’s Mum. Dad’s here too.”

“Hey, Mia,” he greeted. Roy’s voice sounded thick as he spoke but there was the widest grin on his face.

“Hi!” Her reply was bright and excited, nothing like the shy, tentative tone she’d used to first greet them. “I miss you!”

“I know, sweetie. I know, we miss you too. So much.”

“It’s been a long time since we talked, but Grandma said that’s okay because it means I would have a lot more to tell you when you phoned, and we could talk for longer!”

Both parents laughed together. Riza’s eyes closed as she leaned her head against Roy’s. His arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly.

“We could talk to you forever, Mia,” Roy replied, “and we’d be more than happy to do it. How are you?”

“I’m okay! I’ve been having lots of fun.”

“That’s great,” Roy exclaimed. “I’m so happy that you have.”

“We’ve done loads since we last spoke! We’ve been to the park near the hotel almost every day. We’ve been to Xingese temples too which were so pretty! I want to go back but Grandma says we’ve got lots of other things to visit first before we can –”

Mia went on and on, regaling them of things she’d done since they last spoke. Both parents relaxed against one another, content and happy to let her speak and listen to all of her adventures. Riza had missed hearing about them.

“When will we get to come home?”

“We don’t know yet, Mia,” Riza answered after a brief pause. “You sound like you’re having too much fun to come home,” she quipped.

“I am, but I miss you! Maes does too. And I miss Hayate.”

Riza felt a pang in her chest. “I know you do. We miss you both terribly as well. But, if you hand the phone back to Grandma we can talk about when you might be able to?”

“Okay! She’s right here.”

“Goodbye, Mia Bear. I love you,” Riza added.

“Love you,” Roy chimed in, eager to say it himself.

“Love you too. Bye!”

Riza exhaled and tipped her head back. Roy gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, understanding every emotion she was currently going through, as he was experiencing the same. It was such a relief to hear Mia’s voice again after so long and to know she was happy, healthy, and okay.

“She’s a little whirlwind,” Chris remarked with a chuckle.

“Thank you for giving her the phone,” Roy replied.

“Of course, Roy Boy,” she dismissed, as if it were obvious she was going to do it in the first place. “Plus, she’s been pestering me non-stop for another chance to speak to you both,” Chris chuckled. “She’s taken it well though. There’s not been too many complaints.”

“What do you mean?” Roy was instantly alert. Riza shot him a worried look. He looked similar to how she felt. Was Mia doing okay?

“Relax,” Chris soothed in her gravelly voice. “She’s been fine. She’s a good and patient kid. Very understanding too. She’s missed you, that’s all. A typical kid thing.”

Roy exhaled in relief.

“When do you think you’ll be out of there?”

“We don’t know. I’m going to ask for an estimate this afternoon on when they think we’ll be discharged. Obviously with my blindness we’ll need to figure out the house first and then come up with some kind of plan to tell Mia…” Roy trailed off, realising that it may be even longer before they see their children.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Chris announced firmly. “We’ve got more than enough to do over here to keep the kids occupied. You two focus on making yourselves better, all right? The more you do, the sooner they can come home. Let me know what the doctors say though, then we can take it from there.”

“Okay,” Roy exhaled. His shoulders settled and Roy nodded like all his fears had been alleviated somewhat. Chris’ support was extremely helpful and meant a lot as they tried to adjust to their lives now. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. We’ll get everything figured out and I’ll bring them back to you as soon as I can. Take care of yourselves.” The last part was almost a warning.

“We will. You too. And thank you, Chris.”

They shared a quick goodbye and hung up. Their walk back to the hospital room was quiet as they contemplated their conversation with Chris and Mia. It had been so lovely to hear their voices again. It had been too long, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. The important thing was it had happened, and they’d been able to speak with their daughter.

Once back in the room, Riza had finished helping Roy get settled when there was a knock at the door.

“Sir?”

“Come in, Fuery,” Roy beckoned.

His head popped around the door. He held onto it as he looked inside the room but didn’t take a step further inside. “Sir… Doctor Marcoh has just contacted us.” Fuery shifted and his expression turned hopeful for a second. “He has… a proposition for you. Regarding your eyes.”

Riza’s eyebrows lifted towards her hairline but Fuery didn’t let on anything further. Roy went still as he processed what Fuery had said.

“The stone?” His voice was low, almost reverent. Riza wasn’t sure what they were referring to, however from the way Roy spoke she could discern there was some gravity behind his words.

Fuery nodded. “Yes. He’s on his way in just now and wishes to speak to you, if that’s all right?”

“Yes, of course. Bring him in once he’s arrived.”

“Of course, sir.” Fuery left them in silence, closing the door quietly behind him.

“The stone,” Riza echoed, looking for further clarification.

Roy paused but then nodded. “Yes. It’s… Well, it may be a way for me to get my sight back.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

“Colonel? Riza?”

Riza looked up from the book on her lap as Breda’s head poked through the door.

“Oh.” Breda lowered his voice suddenly. “I didn’t realise he was asleep. Sorry,” he cringed.

She shot him a smile to placate any worry. “It’s okay,” Riza replied softly. She marked her place in the book with a finger so as not to lose it. “What’s up Breda?”

“Doctor Marcoh has arrived.”

Riza inhaled and nodded, understanding what that announcement meant. Roy would be getting his eyesight back today.

They’d spoken with Doctor Marcoh last week about using the stone. It was decided Havoc would be healed first, then Roy. They had to wait for him to arrive in Central, but Havoc’s procedure to return his ability to walk had been a success a few days ago. He was currently being monitored a few rooms down from them. Now, the Philosopher’s Stone would be used to give Roy his eyesight back.

“I understand,” she replied to Breda. “Thank you for letting us know.”

“There’s also someone else,” he interjected. “General Grumman has come for a visit. He’d like to visit as soon as possible if that’s all right with you both.”

That surprised Riza, however, it made sense if Grumman had been a mentor to Roy for years prior to their move to Central.

“Thank you, Breda. Can you give us ten minutes then send General Grumman in?”

“Will do.”

The door closed quietly behind him and Riza sighed as she stared down at her husband’s sleeping face.

In hospital Riza hadn’t needed to worry too much about Roy’s movements around the room without aid. It was mostly bare, aside from a chair and two beds, so the space was large enough to manoeuvre himself around safely. Regardless of that fact, Riza was always by his side to assist when needed. With the injuries on his hands, he’d been unable to hold a walking cane, but he was improving every day. However, she couldn’t help but run through plans in her mind for what would happen when they returned home. She’d need to reorganise and repurpose rooms. There would need to be clear pathways throughout their home which Roy could use and not hurt himself. Mia and Maes’ toys would need to be moved and placed in designated areas. They didn’t need him tripping over a stray soft bear or sliding on a forgotten pencil. Riza hadn’t had a chance to think about how they’d even begin to tell Mia that their father was blind. Now… She may not have to.

It was a bizarre concept, being able to cure the incurable so easily. She’d been made aware of what went into the Philosopher Stone and it set her on edge. It wasn’t right and Riza could never look at the stone for too long as it made her uncomfortable. However, it was Roy’s decision to use it. He didn’t like the thought of using the stone any more than she did, but it would restart him on a path they thought was lost to him. He’d still be able to remain in the military and work towards what he’d always wanted to do. And Roy was determined;. mMore than determined. As soon as the possibility had been planted inside his mind Riza could see him seriously considering it. Not much would turn him away from the prospect.

Ultimately, using the stone was on his conscience, not hers. But Roy’s was bearing the weight of so much already… However, it was his choice. He had plans, goals, ambitions… All to better this country and stop history from repeating itself. The stone would help, but was the moral cost worth it for him?

“Whatever it takes,” he’d informed her. His tone was determined, but there was a glimmer of grim acceptance in there too.

Riza reached over to gently place her hand on top of Roy’s in the bed. Her thumb swiped over the back of it as she tried to coax him awake. She’d decided sitting by Roy’s bedside in a chair rather than remaining in her own bed was easier to talk to the room and to him. In her own bed she was constantly twisting and turning her head and that was not the best course of action currently.

“Roy?”

He grunted softly in reply, stirring from his slumber.

“Roy, time to wake up.”

A feeble moan left him. His eyes opened briefly but fluttered closed as he quietly sighed and gave into the hold sleep still had on him.

“Roy.” Riza laughed quietly at his sleepy expression. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Doctor Marcoh is here to see you.”

She let that news sink in slowly and eventually he sighed. His eyes batted open groggily. “Okay, I’m up,” he grumbled.

“Did you sleep well?”

His head turned in her direction and he smiled. “I did. I didn’t even realise that I had.”

“You were pretty out of it,” Riza added.

“Your voice is so soothing and comforting to listen to, that’s why,” he grinned as Riza’s cheeks heated up slightly. “Did you keep reading ahead?”

“After you fell asleep I stopped reading aloud and continued on. It’s a good story. I like it.”

“I like it too. I like hearing you read it to me.”

“I can go back,” Riza revealed. “I marked where we finished together. I wouldn’t want you to miss the rest of the story.”

“You’re too good to me.”

Riza stood from her chair and slowly approached him. She placed a hand on his forearm, her touch feather light before increasing the pressure. A finger tapped his skin three times. Recognising her signal Roy inhaled in anticipation. Ever so softly she pressed her lips against his.

She hadn’t wanted to potentially frighten him with sudden touches after the Promised Day. Not while he was blind and not after the beating he’d received at the hands of Father while blind either. Riza had picked up on the fact he jumped whenever someone placed a hand on him without announcing themselves, so she’d come up with a code. With coded messages, they used two taps. With three taps, she announced she would be coming in for a kiss. All of her touches were soft, and she always made sure to announce herself with her voice before initiating contact.

“I love you, Roy.”

He stole another kiss with a grin. “Love you too.”

“Not only is Doctor Marcoh here, but General Grumman is as well. I’ve asked Breda to send him in shortly.”

Roy’s body stilled. “General Grumman?”

“I don’t know why,” Riza shook her head. “Breda only told me he was here to see you.”

With a sigh Roy sat up on his bed. He groaned and grimaced as the movement hit some of his aches and pains. Enough time had passed that their muscles had recovered, but there were still some bruises and stiffness.

Riza’s hand never moved from Roy’s forearm and she slid it slowly up his arm to give him some comfort. Her own injuries were much better. The strength of her painkillers had been reduced dramatically and the injuries were healing nicely. The skin around the one on her neck was pink and healthy, while the one on her shoulder was starting to heal over.

“I suppose I better make myself presentable for the General,” Roy grumbled.

Riza nodded and her hand slid away from his body.

While Roy rubbed his eyes tiredly Riza was struck with how similar he looked to Mia when she awoke in the morning. After their conversation on the phone Riza had made a point to call Chris every day. She couldn’t go that long again without speaking to Mia again. They’d even heard Maes gurgle happily through the receiver. Roy had gently but clumsily wiped away her tears after it. He’d accidentally poked her in the eye, which earned a giggle from them both, cheering Riza up a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Colonel,” General Grumman greeted warmly as he entered the room. “Mrs. Mustang.” He bowed his head respectfully towards her.

“General, sir,” Roy welcomed.

“Good day, General,” Riza nodded.

“At ease, Mustang,” Grumman replied, waving Roy off as his hand lifted to salute while sitting up straighter in his bed.

“Understood.”

Riza watched on with interest. It was intriguing to note how much Roy’s voice changed whenever he was talking to a colleague or a superior. It was funny to think about, remembering just how goofy and dorky he could be with her and their family. It was not a bad thing he was acting differently. It was another part of him, and that part had always intrigued and fascinated Riza. She sat back in her chair to observe their conversation quietly.

“How are you doing, Mustang?”

“Well, sir. Just a few aches and pains but nothing major.”

The General lifted an eyebrow in doubt, making Riza wonder if he was already aware of his lost eyesight. She figured that at this point in time it would be common knowledge. Especially to the likes of General Grumman.

“Losing one’s eyesight would be considered major, Colonel.”

“I’m alive,” Roy replied with determination. “That’s enough for me for the moment.”

Riza kept her mouth shut about Doctor Marcoh’s visit. She already felt like she was privy to a conversation she shouldn’t be a part of so let them converse in peace.

“Mrs. Mustang?”

Her head lifted, surprised that the General had anything to say to her.

“If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow you for a moment?”

Out the corner of her eye, Riza noted how Roy’s brow furrowed in confusion slightly at the request.

“There’s something I wish to discuss with you in private, if that’s all right?”

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of my husband, General,” Riza replied evenly.

In all honesty… She didn’t really want to be left alone with her grandfather. After her sudden phone call and his reaction to it, Riza thought he knew who she was but couldn’t be sure. The question was, did she have the energy to have that family discussion with him? Probably not. Regardless, it was true. She had no secrets to hide from Roy.

Grumman looked stumped for a second before he recovered. “Yes, of course. It’s regarding us.”

Roy tried to hide it but Riza could tell he was becoming even more confused.

“Yes?”

“Our paths have unfortunately never crossed in the past. There were various reasons for that, mostly tied with your parents.”

Roy’s head cocked to the side ever so subtly as he tried to put two and two together.

“I apologise for not coming forward to you sooner. I have my own reasons for that too, but wanted to apologise for not contacting you when I should have.” He looked and sounded sincere enough as he spoke.

“And when would that have been?” Riza was curious as to when he felt he “should” have reached out to her.

“News of your father’s passing reached me months afterwards. I thought that would’ve left you with no one, but I had no way of finding out where you were. Then Mustang breezed in and wouldn’t shut up about his wife and kid,” Grumman chuckled, gesturing towards Roy, who’d gone incredibly still. “And I overheard Lieutenant Catalina on the phone to you and say your name. I caught Mustang showing off a picture of his wife one time and finally recognised you.” He took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “You look exactly like your mother.”

A lump suddenly formed inside Riza’s throat.

“So, I’ve been aware of you and your tie to Mustang for some time. And I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her reply was even and polite. She held no grudge against this man, but she couldn’t trust him so easily. If he wanted to be a part of her life then he’d have to earn a place in it.

“I hear you have some wonderful children.” He shot her a toothy grin. “Congratulations, Riza. I’m extremely happy for you.”

At the mention of them, Riza’s stomach tightened but slowly loosened. Her expression softened and she nodded. “They are wonderful,” she agreed.

“I expect nothing in return,” Grumman reassured, lifting his hands as if surrendering. “Too much time may have passed, which I completely understand. But since I had the chance, I wanted to see you and speak to you at least once – and properly this time.”

“Thank you for that favour on the Promised Day,” Riza replied. “I really appreciated you trying to get through to Roy.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “It was the least I could do for my granddaughter.”

Finally, Roy clicked. His head had bowed to face the bed in silence but Riza knew his mind was moving a mile a minute, overflowing with questions. He wasn’t the only one, however, Riza had already dwelled on her musings about her grandfather years ago. It brought the questions back up to the surface, but she didn’t have the energy to be angry or upset at him for not contacting her. Like Grumman said, too much time had passed anyway. It was all in the past now.

“I hear Doctor Marcoh is here to see you,” Grumman announced, clearing his throat. “I’ll get going and let him get to work.”

Riza stood and approached her bed without a word. On the table beside it was her purse, which she reached for. Two pictures of their children were extracted from within and Riza turned to face her grandfather.

“Would you like to see your great grandchildren before you leave?”

He looked incredibly surprised by her offer. Riza may not have been able to trust him so easily but he’d reached out to her. He’d made an effort at least. Yes, it was late, and he may have some motive behind this meeting, but Riza would extend him the same courtesy he’d given her. She didn’t entirely trust his motives, but he’d acknowledged they were family and seemed genuine enough while discussing it. The least she could do in return was show him his great grandchildren.

Grumman nodded and Riza walked over to him. She handed the pictures over and heard him gasp. In the corner of his eyes there were tears, but they never fell.

“Mia and Maes,” Riza stated, pointing to each of them.

“They look like wonderful children,” he replied. His tone was respectful but held a hint of awe within it.

“They are,” Riza smiled fondly, gazing down at them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mustang.” Grumman cleared his throat as he handed the pictures back to her. “I don’t expect anything in return, like I said, but I appreciate you showing these to me.”

Riza nodded and took them back from his outstretched hand.

“If you ever need anything,” he stressed, his sharp eyes meeting hers directly, “anything at all, you can give me a call. All right?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Grumman,” he insisted.

“Thank you, Grumman,” Riza nodded.

“I’ll be on my way. I’ll send Doctor Marcoh in. Take care of yourself, Mustang,” he called over Riza’s shoulder. Then, in a surprising move, he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You too, dear.”

Once he’d left, Riza returned to the chair by Roy’s bedside.

“He’s your grandfather?”

She wondered what Roy’s reaction would be. It seemed he had no clue about it either. His exclamation was incredulous.

“Yes,” Riza confirmed.

“But… How…” Roy floundered as he tried to find the words he needed. “When did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure. When we were in Central on our little holiday after Mia was born and the staff announced there was a General Grumman on the phone waiting to speak to you, I made the connection with his name then. I’d never seen him before though. Seeing him now, he’s still the spitting image of the picture I glanced at once when I was a child.”

“…And he never contacted you before now?” Roy’s question had an edge to it. He was mildly affronted on her behalf.

Riza shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“He knew your name,” Roy muttered quietly to himself. “I told him. Not your last name, admittedly, but he’d heard your first name and seen your picture. He even pestered me to marry his granddaughter before he knew I was married to you.” His brow furrowed deeper, his expression darkening. “And he still did nothing?”

Riza shrugged. She didn’t know what to say to him. “He said he had his reasons for that. I don’t know what they could possibly be, nor am I interested to find out.”

Roy fell silent for a few moments. “You don’t trust him, do you?”

“I don’t know him, so no. I wish I could, given he’s my last remaining older family member, but I can’t. I don’t trust his motives either. Not after his actions. Despite his genuine tone, there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

His head bobbed a few times as he absorbed her statement. “I can’t believe he never contacted you.”

Riza grimaced. “My family history is… tricky. From what I remember of it, anyway. It could be to do with that, however, I never held any grudge towards him. I never really knew him and was too young. My parents cut ties when I was a baby.”

There was a sudden pressure on her hand. Roy had placed his atop hers, covering it with his warmth and comfort.

“If he’s holding onto that feud, or whatever it was, after all this time, then I’m not sure I want to waste my time trying with him. If not…” she trailed off, still unsure. “Anyway,” Riza announced, steering the conversation away from her thoughts. “Sorry to burst your bubble about him.”

Roy snorted and scoffed. “He was the one who taught and encouraged me to always work to serve my own agenda. It doesn’t surprise me he was doing it for himself. I’m more concerned about you, though.” His expression looked slightly anxious. “Are you okay about all of this?”

“Grumman acknowledging my existence doesn’t take away anything from my life, nor does it add to it. I don’t know what I will do, or what I want, regarding a relationship with my grandfather. Quite frankly I don’t really want to consider it right now either. There’s more important things due to happen,” she smiled, “like you getting your eyesight back.”

“I know, but… Well, whatever you decide, I will support you. No matter what.”

Riza smiled at him. She tapped the back of his hand with her finger three times and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Roy.”

“Of course,” he replied simply. “You’re welcome, Riza.”

Their conversation ended there as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Riza called.

Doctor Marcoh poked his head around the door and looked at them expectantly. “Are you ready to begin the procedure, Colonel?”

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #the way it was #emma writes #almost at the end team!!!

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

Lost Time {15}

A/N: As always, co-written with my better half, @tacmc.

Elain awoke to steady beeping and dim light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, for her memories of the day to be recollected.

Lucien had come to her work.

They fought.

He left.

She didn’t remember anything after that.

Now, she was hooked up to a heart monitor, a blood pressure band around her arm, and IV just below it. The night sky sparkled outside of the window, and she found herself wondering how long she’d been out. She looked around, thankful to find that she wasn’t alone.

Azriel was asleep in a chair, his chin propped on his fist, his mouth hanging wide open. His feet were propped up on a rolling stool, one ankle crossed over the other.

As if sensing her eyes on him, he stirred and his eyes opened. He was up before she ever had a chance to try and speak, cradling her face.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, “I’m right here, Lainey. I’m right here.”

Voice a rasp, she asked, “What happened?”

He chuckled, but tears were filling his eyes. “I was really hoping you could tell us that. You went into shock.”

She blinked.

Her ring. Lucien had pawned her ring.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. That ring was the most beautiful thing he’d ever given her, before she’d had Novan, but she couldn’t tell him it was gone. Better for him to assume it’d been gone for years.

“Lucien came by with some of my stuff,” she said, not a lie, but also not the full truth. “We just...got into it.”

Azriel tensed. “Got into it?”

“We fought,” she said, and he frowned.

She was fully aware by the look in his eye that he wanted an answer that held a little more of an explanation, but he didn’t push, whether it was because of her current state or because he didn’t feel it was his business, she didn’t know. She was grateful for it, though, whatever it was, because it meant she didn’t have to go into her and Lucien’s fight. “Water?”

He was instantly up on his feet, going to fill up a little paper cup with water. She was reaching out for it, but he never took his hand off of it as it touched her lips.

She tried speaking again. “Where is Donovan?”

“He’s at my mom’s,” he said, shaking his head.

She laughed softly. “Silly of me to ask.”

Azriel smiled and said, “I wondered why you didn’t just assume,” and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She smiled softly but he tilted her chin towards him when she tried to look away. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I am, I just-.” A shuddering breath. “I learned something unexpected today and it just was...tough to process. I’m okay, I promise.”

Elain leaned forward and softly pressed her lips against his. When she pulled away, he looked uncertain. “Elain-.”

“Please don’t ask questions,” she whispered. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

He nodded, slowly, and kissed her, once again to save him from asking any more questions. A nurse came in, smiling brightly once she saw Elain awake.

“Hello, my dear!” she said, closing the door behind her. “I’m glad to find you sitting up. How are you feeling?”

“Weak,” she admitted.

The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s to be expected. Keep resting, try to sleep a little more. While you’re awake, I’d like to take a few samples so we can run some tests, make sure there are no other underlying reasons as to why you fainted.”

Elain nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. “That’s fine.” She rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm, turning to Azriel. “What time is it?”

He yawned, glancing at his watch. “Just a bit before four.”

“Four?” She repeated, looking from him to the nurse currently prepping her. “I’ve been out for…” she paused and did some mental math. “Nearly seventeen hours?”

“You hit your head when you fell,” she explained.

It was then that Elain realized that, yes, she did have a pretty solid headache, and she reached up to touch her forehead. There was a band of gauze wrapped around her forehead.

“It’s not bad,” Azriel whispered. “You hit a corner of one of the tables on the way down, though.”

Elain hesitated. “I have stitches?”

“Only a few,” the nurse said. “You should be able to get them out next week.”

Elain nodded, slowly, letting all the little details register fully.

“I’m going to take these samples back,” the nurse said, holding up three little vials of blood - Azriel had to look away. “There’s a cup for a urine sample in the bathroom. Do it when you can, then let me know. I’ll come back soon to check your vitals.”

Elain smiled. “Thank you.”

The nurse smiled in return before hurrying off.

Azriel was looking at her. She was looking anywhere but him, because she knew he wouldn’t let this go. She breathed, “Az…”

“I need you to tell me what happened today, Elain,” he said, voice hard.

She shook her head. “It was nothing, Az, he was lashing out because he was hurt. And I- I reacted. He was trying to get a rise out of me and it worked.”

His hazel eyes were hard. “Did he touch you?”

“What?” Her eyes widened, shocked that he’d even assume that.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, standing up and beginning to pace. “Did he come onto you? Did he say something rude? What happened, Elain?”

She couldn’t tell him about the ring, but she also couldn’t handle him being mad at her.

“I-.” She hesitated, a thousand different lies running through her mind. “Yes, he came onto me, told me I was making a big mistake, and I got pissed. But, no, he didn’t touch me, and he left, Az. Okay? Drop it, please.”

The way his jaw locked told Elain he definitely was not going to drop it. “I’ve got to go.”

He had only taken one step before Elain said, “No, you will stay here with me, and if you leave me here to find Lucien at four in the morning, I will never forgive you.”

Azriel froze, but he didn’t like that response. “He can’t treat you like that.”

“He left when I asked him to,” she said. “He said his piece, we screamed at each other, he tried to tell me he knew what was best for me, I told him to get out and he left. I passed out after he left.”

He had turned back to her. “Right after he left?”

She shook her head. “Not immediately after, maybe a minute or so. I remember calling you, telling you to hurry and then...nothing.”

“Nothing?” He asked.

Closing her eyes, she repeated, “Nothing.”

Azriel took a deep breath and sighed, walking back towards the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, careful of the tender spot above her brow. “Okay.”

After calming down, Elain did as the nurse he instructed and filled and left the sample cup in the bathroom. They called her back and checked her vitals, seeing that everything was reading mostly normal, save for an increased heart rate. Once they received her tests back, she’d be allowed to go home, but until then, they wanted her to try and rest.

It took very little convincing for Azriel to climb up in the uncomfortable hospital bed with Elain, to let her lay her head on his chest, tucking her in close. She drifted off to sleep almost immediately, the meds knocking her out cold, but Azriel laid there, his cheek pressed against the top of her head as he watched the sun come up.

He wasn’t going to push her. He wouldn’t press her. He’d let her come to him with whatever took place with Lucien today, but he knew she’d lied to him, at least about one thing.

She hadn’t passed out after she called him.

No, she’d made one more phone call before that, after they’d spoken.

He knew who it had been with. He just didn’t know what it had been about.

————————————————————————

Azriel sat at his mother’s kitchen table and stared at the sheet of paper in his hand, declaring that his paternity test concluded that he was, in fact, Donovan’s father. Rhysand had brought it to him an hour before, and Azriel had hardly taken his eyes off of it. He was going to be added to Novan’s birth certificate. It was becoming official.

He couldn’t help the tears that lined his eyes.

“Everyone’s coming over for dinner,” Miryam said, stepping into the kitchen. “We’re going to celebrate. It’s a good day.”

Azriel nodded, hearing Novan’s laughter from the living room, where he was relaxing on the couch with Elain, watching a movie. He cleared his throat, “When will they be showing up?”

“Soon,” Miryam said, smiling fondly. “You’re crying.”

He looked up at her, smiling broadly. “I know.”

She sat down in the chair next to him and took his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of hers. “Your father knew you’d come back one day.”

He blinked. “What?”

“He always knew you’d find your way back here. He just didn’t know how long it’d take.” She cleared her throat and for the first time since he’d been home, he heard her voice wavering as she said, “I just wish he could have seen what an amazing father you’re becoming.”

Azriel’s eyes closed, but not in any attempt to stop the tears. He knew there was no hope of that. So he leaned over and wrapped his arms around his mother, wishing he had been around to do it more in the past few years.

“Meme, may I have some juice, please?” Azriel and Miryam turned toward where Novan’shead peeked over the couch. When he saw Azriel’s tears, he hopped off the couch and ran over to him. He crawled up in his lap and asked, “You still crying happy tears, daddy?”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Yeah, I can’t seem to stop.”

His little fingers reached up and brushed along Azriel’s tanned cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

Daddy. It wasn’t long ago that he didn’t even know he was a dad, and now he couldn’t imagine life any differently. He brushed Novan’s hair back off his forehead as he chuckled. “I’ll try my best. You know, your uncles will be here soon, you should probably go warn your mom.”

Novan grinned. “Yes! Okay. What about my juice?”

“Meme will get you juice,” Miryam said, rising to her feet after she kissed Novan’s forehead. “Not too much, though, we’re having a big dinner tonight.”

“And cake?” Novan asked.

Azriel laughed, “Yes, bud. And cake.”

“Yes!” He hopped off of Azriel’s lap and hurried back into the living room. He chuckled as his eyes followed him and heard Elain’s Oof! as he jumped onto her lap from over the arm of the couch.

It had been three days since they’d come home from the hospital. It was Azriel’s first chance to see Nesta, to ask what their phone call was about, but Elain was almost back to her cheerful self. She was still tired, but he knew she didn’t want to worry Novan. The sweet woman who owned the antique store had come by the house last night and brought them a plate of fresh baked cookies - which Novan has his eyes on all night - and told Elain to take a week or two off. She’d protested, but had ultimately accepted the kindness from her boss.

Azriel was grateful that Elain had such great people in her life.

Miryam began fluttering about the kitchen, after giving Novan his precious juice, and Azriel kept trying to help, but she just kept chuckling. “I love you, honey, but you are hazardous to have in the kitchen.”

Azriel scoffed, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “That’s not true.”

“You burnt spaghetti once, sweetheart.”

Azriel screwed the lid back on the bottle and took a sip before he said, “I was seventeen, that’s not fair.”

He was kicked out of the kitchen soon after. It was okay, though, because it meant that he got to go snuggle on the couch with Elain and Novan before their family began to arrive. Nesta and Cassian were the first, Nesta plopping down in the armchair in the living room as their movie finished up.

“Aunt Nes,” Novan began, propping his little chin on his fists. “Your tummy is getting big.”

“That’s because your baby cousin is growing in here,” she explained, lovingly rubbing her hand down it. “Just like you grew in your mommy’s tummy.”

Novan turned to Elain. “I was in your tummy? How’d I get in there?” His eyes grew even wider. “How’d I get out?”

Elain and Azriel both froze and Nesta, realizing the likely incoming conversation she’d caused, was about to get out of the chair, when Cassian entered the room and said, “It’s a boy!”

Elain and Az were on their feet, looking from Nesta and Cassian. Elain asked, “You found out? When?! And you didn’t tell me?”

Nesta, with a look of genuine confusion, said, “We haven’t found out, I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“I’m talking about Az,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because he’s officially a dad.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as Cassian pulled him in close for a hug, and Nesta groaned. “Oh, no, it’s too early for the dad-jokes to start.”

“It’s never too early.” Cassian winked at his fiancée as he ruffled Azriel’s hair, which earned him a scowl.

“Uncle Cass!” Novan said, jumping up on the couch. “Meme got me a new train, wanna see?”

“Of course I do,” Cassian answered, as if the tiny toy train was the most majestic thing on the planet. With a wide grin, Novan hurried away to get it.

Feyre and Rhysand came in a minute later, the latter holding a cake. “Close your eyes! I’ve been instructed to get this to the kitchen without anyone seeing. Little did I know you all would be standing directly in front of the door.”

“The one time we don’t walk through the back door,” Feyre muttered, and Elain chuckled.

Rhysand hurried through the house with the cake as Feyre hugged Azriel, then Elain, just as Novan came running back through the house with a little toy train.

He took a tumble right as he came around the corner and everyone froze, waiting to see if the fall would result in a meltdown or if he’d hop right back up and keep going. It seemed Novan was having a rough day, too.

He sat back on his bottom and looked at the carpet burn on his knee and then the tears began. He forgot the train on the floor and was up and running towards his family. Miryam and Elain were both ready to scoop him up and dry his tears, but he passed them and stood in front of Azriel. He wailed, “Da- Daddy, I hurt my knee.”

There was no hesitation as he picked his son up and said, “Let me see, bud.”

Novan moved his hand, where it was holding his knee, and the smallest of carpet burns made its appearance.

“Ouch,” Azriel agreed, kissing Novan’s forehead. “How about a Bandaid? Bandaids always help.”

Novan nodded, his bottom lip still wobbling as Azriel carried him into the kitchen and sat him down on the counter.

“You gotta remember to walk,” Azriel sang as he dug through the medicine cabinet.

“I was excited,” Novan replied, wiping at his eyes.

“I know,” Azriel said, laughing softly as he found the box of Bandaids and took one out that had Spiderman on it. He carefully put it over the carpet burn. “Even when we’re excited, though, we have to walk when we’re inside. Right?”

Novan nodded, and then his eyes caught something over Azriel’s shoulder. Azriel took Novan off the counter and turned around to see that Novan had found the cake, and remembering Rhysand’s earlier warning, he quickly hurried out of the kitchen. “Don’t tell Meme we saw the cake,” Azriel mumbled.

Novan’s hands flew over his mouth as he giggled.

They rejoined the family in the living room, Azriel sitting next to Elain, and Donovan took off, walking quickly, to retrieve his forgotten train and show his uncle. Before they knew it, it was time to eat and Cassian and Azriel carried in plates full of fresh from the grill burgers and hot dogs.

Azriel had been attempting to catch Nesta’s eye all afternoon, but whether it was intentional or not, he could never seem to find a moment to pull her to the side. He’d find a moment at some point, he was sure, but he didn’t want to let his curiosity ruin a perfect day.

Novan was eating a hamburger that was the size of his head when he asked, “Mommy, does this mean I get a second birthday every year?”

Everyone laughed as Elain said, “Not quite, buddy.”

“But, it’s a special day,” Azriel said, eyeing Novan next to him at the table.

“Because we eat cake?” he asked. “Thank you for cake, Meme.”

Miryam laughed. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Cake is good,” Azriel agreed. “But, it’s special because now I get to legally be your daddy.” Novan’s brows scrunched together, and Azriel realized that such a concept would be confusing to a four-year-old. “Nevermind,” he went on, chuckling. “Today is special because I love you, yeah? This will forever be our special day, bud.”

His hazel eyes lit up. “Just for us?”

Azriel couldn’t help but smile. “Just for us, but don’t you think we should let everyone celebrate?”

His eyes narrowed. “We share the cake?”

Azriel chuckled and kissed his head. “You’d have to share the cake regardless.”

Donovan sighed dramatically. “Fine. As long as it’s our day though. I’m glad you’re my daddy”

He dove back into his burger, not noticing that almost everyone else around the table had tears in their eyes.

Especially Rhys and Feyre.

————————————————————————

Once the cake had been cut and Donovan crashed from sugar, Rhys and Az took a minute to step out onto the back porch.

“So…” Azriel awkwardly began. How exactly was he supposed to pick back up the conversation about his brother’s infertility?

“You’re wondering about the results from Yrene?” Rhysand guessed. A small smile had appeared on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Azriel nodded. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I was just-.”

The door opened again and Cassian stepped out, a beer in his hand. “What’d I miss?”

Azriel frowned as Rhysand ran a hand through his hair. “I, uh, met with Yrene. Feyre and I have been struggling to have kids for a while, so we had some tests run.”

Cassian’s face fell as he stood by his brothers. “I didn’t even know you guys were trying.”

Rhysand nodded. “Yeah… And, it turns out, Feyre’s fine. It’s me.” His voice went so quiet that the words could hardly be heard.

“Is there...nothing you can do?” Azriel asked.

Rhys shook his head. “Not really, because as of right now, we’re doing everything right. I just have a, uh.” He shook his head and laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I have a low sperm count.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Cass asked, leaning against the wooden rail. “You can cum but there’s no swimmers?”

Az rolled his eyes and said, “It means he has less than you and I.” He looked back to Rhys. “Which that’s not a definitive no, right? It could still happen at some point, in some way?”

Rhys was shaking his head. “Yes, but it’s not likely to happen in the traditional way.” He sighed. “They’re suggesting we try implanting it directly into Feyre’s uterus, but it’s expensive. Money isn’t a problem, I just don’t want to put Feyre through that for nothing if it doesn’t take.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Have you talked about a surrogate anymore?”

“I’d fuck her for you,” Cass interjected.

Rhys said, “Dude, no,” at the same time Azriel said, “Cassian,”‘and shook his head.

“What?” He asked. “It’s cheaper than paying someone else to do it with a big ass syringe, it would feel good for Feyre, and the kid would still look like the rest of the family.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, completely ignoring Cassian, and said, “We’ve discussed it. She doesn’t want to use a surrogate. She wants to try the intrauterine implant method if we try anything.” He sighed and said, “And please don’t ever tell Feyre that you offered to fuck her.”

“Do you want my kid?” Cass asked.

“No, Cass, I don’t want your kid.”

“Cause you can have this one,” Cassian went on, sipping from his bottle. “Nesta and I will just make another.”

Azriel gawked, but Rhysand was shoving Cassian in the chest, unable to stop the genuine, little smile that had formed. “Fuck you.”

Cassian laughed, and pulled Rhysand in for a hug by the back of his head. “I’m sorry, man. Something will work out though, you know? You two were meant to be parents.”

He nodded his head, and smiled sadly, though Az could tell it was genuine. “I know we will. We just...never thought that it would be us, you know? You hear all of these stories about people having trouble conceiving, but you also hear about so many accidental pregnancies,” Azriel’s cheeks heated, though he knew it was unnecessary. Rhys went on, “So when you find out that you are the reason you can’t make a kid…” He shook his head. “Makes me feel like a piece of shit. Like I’m not that man I promised her I’d be.”

“Feyre loves you whether you can or can’t, just the same,” Azriel said, quietly. “And just because you can’t make a kid the traditional way won’t make it any less special. We all find different routes to parenthood, it seems. Some routes are harder than others. Never doubt yourself, though. You’re a good man, Rhys, and you’ll be a great husband.”

Rhysand nodded, and clapped Azriel on the shoulder. For a moment, they all stood there in a comfortable silence, dwelling on all that had been said, fully aware there was not much else that could be said to comfort him, but hoping their presence would be enough.

————————————————————————

After Donovan went down for late nap, he didn’t wake up for the rest of the night. A little after eight, everyone had packed up and left, and when they got back to their house, Azriel took Novan to his room and tucked him. He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor by his bed, gently brushing his hair off his face, watching him sleep. But he just wanted to be there. To bask in the peaceful moment of loving his son.

His heart was aching for Rhys. He was doing everything he could to fulfill their dream for Feyre but sometimes, there was only so much that could be done.

With a sigh, Az got to his feet and pressed a soft kiss to Novan’s forehead, before cracking the door shut and stepping into the hall. The sound of water had him heading into their bedroom, and the adjoining bathroom, where he found Elain soaking in the tub.

“Well, someone looks relaxed,” he said, pulling the small stool stashed under the vanity to the edge of the tub and resting his arms on the edge. He propped his chin on his arms and glanced down into the water, where Elain was blissfully naked. He glanced up at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

She laughed quietly and said, “Down, boy.”

He smiled broadly and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Well. It’s official. You have yourself a certified baby daddy.”

She laughed as she reached a wet hand out of the tub and brushed back his hair. “Sure do.”

“We’re a family now,” he breathed. “I mean, we’ve always been a family, but...now we can laminate it.”

Elain’s head fell back as she laughed. “You want to laminate our son’s birth certificate? I was just going to put it in the filing cabinet along with everything else.”

He grinned. “Fair enough. I’m just...excited.”

“Good,” she said, quietly. “Me too, for life with you. Our family.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “You look happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re happy,” he breathed, greeting her with the softest of kisses.

“Hush,” she breathed, blushing, kissing him back, unable to pull the smile from her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiled, and looked down into the water again. Thanks to the oils, salts, bath bomb and whatever else she’d put in the water, he could make out her form, but couldn’t explicitly see her body. “You know, it’s been a long day, I was thinking about taking a bath, too.”

Elain chuckled and asked, “Really?”

Azriel shook his head, “No, not really, but I’ll never pass up an opportunity to be naked and wet with you.” She laughed and he kissed her cheek, heading for the bedroom. “I’ll be back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.”

She sank down into the water a little bit lower and said “Just one glass.”

He turned back, unable to read her expression, and said, “Why just one?”

His face made her chuckle and she said, “Pregnant women can’t drink, Az.”

“Well, I know, but what does that-.” His words broke off as the realization of her words hit him, as her grin spread wide. His voice was just a whisper as he asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She shook her head, excitedly, unable to stop the melodic laughter that fell from her lips. “I’m pregnant, Az.”

His mouth fell open, and for a moment he was frozen in place, but then he was running toward the bathtub and throwing himself into the water, clothes and all. Tears were running down his face as he cupped Elain's cheeks, his knees on both sides of her waist, and kissed her lips.

“You’re serious?” He breathed, lips still on hers.

She nodded and Azriel noticed her tears as well. “They ran it with all of my tests when I was in the hospital. And it came up positive.” She reached down to the floor outside the tub and held up the little plastic stick. “I’m ten and a half weeks.”

“Ten and a half weeks,” he repeated, his heart completely full. “A baby.”

She nodded, laughing as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Don’t go running off this time.”

“Not a chance,” he whispered, and kissed her, showing her just how deep his loyalty ran.

#snelbz lost time #elriel #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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