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maybege · 2 years

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Unexpectedly Expecting

Summary: You have big news and Paz doesn’t know what to do. (Part 6 of LPOH)

Pairing: biker!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Biker AU, pregnancy stuff, slight angst, mentions of bad parenting and addiction

I kind of forgot that I had a whole chapter for biker!Paz still complete in the drafts so I thought I would celebrate the start of fall (and my soon tk be birthday) with a new chapter. We now get into the main plot stuff and I just want to put in a disclaimer that I have never been pregnant and therefore the depiction of pregnancy will be very inaccurate and just give the kind of romcom vibes that we need lol. As always please let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“For the last time, you cannot come with us!”

“Meow!”

“Kitten,” he warned, seeing the little cat climb her way back into his duffel bag.

At first, he had thought that it was the colourfully patterned socks (a gag gift from Grogu and Din for one Winterfest) that had caught her attention. But as he had removed the offending piece of clothing to his bed and Kitten had stayed curled up in his packed bag, he knew that she simply did not want him to leave.

Which had led to the discussion they were currently having.

“That hut is not a safe place for kittens,” he heard himself say, scooping her up and placing her on the floor, “You will stay with Grogu and Fennec.”

Kitten climbed back onto the bed, eyeing the bag as if she was calculating the best place to jump into it.

He sat down with a sigh, knowing that it would be futile to fight with her. “C’mere.”

She purred, climbing onto his knees and curling up. His fingers disappeared into her fur, petting her as he thought about the weekend ahead. Years ago, he never would have thought that he would have a girlfriend(?) to bring with him to a weekend trip with his friends.

And now here he was, packing his pack so he could pick you up first thing tomorrow and drive with you to the coast. He smiled.

The ringing of his phone forced him into action and he practically fell over his feet as he reached for the blinking device.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“I am so sorry, Paz,” you mumbled, sounding struck down, “I think I must’ve caught a bug or something from the kids but I,” another pause, “I don’t think I can come with you today.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

The words were out of his mouth so quickly, it was almost like an instinct. You chuckled weakly and he felt something tugging in his chest at the way you sounded so pained. You did not sound well. At all.

“Thank you for asking,” you replied, “But I don’t think I would be very good company today. I have the doctor’s appointment this afternoon and then I think I will just need to rest for the weekend.”

Something in him wanted to ask if you were sure. That he could stay with you, no problem. He had Boba on speed dial, after all, it would take less than a minute to pull out of the trip and then make his way to your house.

But he also knew that whatever it was between the two of you, it had not been going on for very long. Barely two months. Could that be considered long? It felt like an eternity for him, certainly after the long years he had been without a partner. But objectively … could two, three months even be considered a relationship?

“Are – are you angry?”

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

“No!” he protested quickly, Kitten jumping from his lap in fright, “Sorry, I was just lost in thought. It’s okay for you to stay home, love, just – just text me if you need anything?”

He could hear your tired smile, his heart strings thrumming. “You can’t send me food from up the coast, Paz.”

“No but I’d drive home,” he replied, “I could get you some soup, some tea and, uh, those salty cracker things you like so much.”

You chuckled, sounding tired and sad and his heart clenched. “You’re the best, Paz, enjoy your tip, okay? And give Kitten lots of scritches from me.”

You: Hey, can you come over when you’re back? We need to talk.

He had been staring at the notification for three hours now, not even daring to open the text so you couldn’t see that he had read it. We need to talk. That was never a good sign, was it?

What did you want to talk about? Had you changed your mind?

Three days by the coast, surrounded by his friends and family, all seemed like a waste of time now that he knew something bad was about to happen. Stars, he felt stupid now. How happy he had been to see you again, to tell you al about his weekend, to tell you how he had spoken abut you to the others. How happy Ahsoka had been to hear that the new teacher was doing well.

“Why the face?” Din sat down next to him at Ahsoka’s breakfast table, “You look like Kitten just ran away.”

Paz tilted the screen so his friend could see the notification, “She wants to talk.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Paz sighed, “Oh.”

He knocked on your door, taking a deep breath. Whatever would end up happening, he would get over it. He could live with it. The most important thing was that he could remain your friend. That you would be happy and he somehow still had a chance to see that.

The door swung open and he swallowed when he saw how sick you looked. You were wearing your pyjamas, still, the fuzzy ones with cookies printed all over them. And it looked like you had cried and his heart ached.

“Hey,” he smiled quietly, holding up the bag, “I, uh, I brought you some soup.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, your hand still on the doorknob, “Would you like to come in for a coffee or something?”

He swallowed again, his dry throat protesting at the movement, “Sure.”

You both were silent as you made your way to the kitchen and he followed you like a lost puppy with the soup in his hands. He noticed the dirty dishes in the sink, the blinds half closed even though it was bright daylight out.

“That bug really got to you, huh?”

He tried to hide the way how nervous he was and set the takeout bag on the free space on your kitchen table. The coffee machine whirred to live and he watched as you grabbed a mug from the cupboard and setting it under the machine.

Your silence did not go unnoticed by him and something in him already regretted accepting the cup of coffee. The slow drip of it made him even more nervous, skittish somehow, as he tried to prepare for the inevitable. For your rejection. For playing like this had meant just as little to him as it had to you. For playing like his heart did not shatter into a million pieces.

“So how –“

The cup cluttered and he watched as coffee spilled all over the counter. He wanted to reach out to you, kiss your fingertips and ask you what was wrong. Why your hands were shaking just like his heart. Why you looked so afraid.

“I’m pregnant Paz.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, taking a deep breath, “I know that this is – this is a shock and please just, just listen to me, okay?”

Feeling completely dumbfounded, he nodded.

“I am pregnant and I know it is yours. I take the pill and I don’t know how – how this could’ve happened but I’m definitely pregnant. In the third month too,” you added, “And I have decided that I would like to keep the baby. I know this is not ideal and this is not something you signed up for. And … I guess I just wanted to let you know. I understand if you’re not ready for that kind of commitment yet or if you didn’t see this relationship go anywhere. I promise I won’t bother you with it too much. But you have a right to know and –“

“Are you well?” he blurted out, interrupting your rushed monologue. He felt bad because he wanted you to know that he listened to you but in all this hurry, the panic in your voice had just sounded more and more prominent and what

You tilted your head, questions in your eyes, and he cleared his throat, trying to get his words out better than before.

“Do – are you sick, I mean?” he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck, “Do – do you want to sit down or have a water or –“

“I’m fine, Paz,” you smiled, “Thank you for asking. I’m – I’m just nervous, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he huffed out, his heart beating a mile a minute, “Me too.”

Silence.

His brain was still trying to catch up on the information you had just provided.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant. With his child.

A baby would change everything and it was like he could watch his entire world turn upside down in front of him.

“I know this is a lot of information, Paz,” you said soothingly, your hand landing on his forearm and he hated how you looked at him as if he would push you away, “I just – Please take the time to think about this, okay?”

“Yeah, I,” he took a deep breath, “I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry, this is – it’s a lot. I thought –“

“Thought what?”

“I thought you called me here to, uh, to break up.”

“That’s the last thing on my mind,” you smiled sadly, “But it might not be on yours.”

“What’s gotten into you, big guy?”

Ten hours later, Paz still felt like the world was reeling around him. He did not even know how he had gotten to the bar or what he had done in between listening to your words and sitting in front of a pint of beer, looking at the foam as if that would give him the answers he needed.

“She’s pregnant,” he said lamely, still staring at his hands. Everything felt like it was moving so fast and he was stuck in place, his heart tugging between pure elation and straight panic in a roller coaster of emotions that made him want to throw up, “She – she is pregnant.”

“Is it yours?”

“Of course, it is,” he hissed, turning to glare at his older friend and boss.

But Boba did not seem to be fazed. The older man simply met his stare, calmly taking a swig of his beer. “You barely dated, what, three months?” he guessed, “I wanted to make sure.”

“She’s not like that,” Paz muttered under his breath, his heart feeling strangely warm when thinking of you. Anger at Boba was at the forefront because how could he – Boba knew you for fuck’s sake! He knew how important you were to him. “She – We – There is no one else. Won’t be any one else, either.”

“Man, you are head over heels already, huh?”

He did not say anything. The truth was, yes, he was. Hopelessly so. Ever since he had first seen you at school it seemed like life had gotten so much lighter. Maybe it was too early to call it love but his heart was counting the days until he could tell you what he felt for you.

“And now a baby?” Boba probed further, “What did she say?”

“She said she wanted me to know about it,” he recalled slowly, barely able to piece everything together from memory, “That, uh, she wants to keep it, either way. And she did not want to break up with me.”

“Glad we got that covered,” Din said dryly and Paz threw him a glare. But the dark haired man simply shrugged and raised his beer to his lips, half looking at the football game that was shown on the TV in the corner.

“What? Every time I see you two together it is hard to say who has more heart eyes for the other – you or her,” he mumbled absentmindedly, “The last thing I thought she would do was break up and I was proven right.”

“Taking all emotions out of this, she is doing the right thing, I think,” Boba said, “She made her decision and now she is offering you the choice if and how you want to be involved in your child’s life.”

Your child.

“Why are you all so much fucking calmer than I am about this?” Paz asked, taking a big swig of his beer, trying to let the bitter taste wash away the anxiety that bubbled up. As if that had ever worked.

“I – Shit, Boba look at me,” he growled, resting his forehead on his hand, “I never thought I would be a dad. Not with my family, not with this town and now – “

“Now you have a chance to experience it,” the older man nodded in understanding, leaning back against the low backrest of the barstool. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking as serious as ever and just like always, Paz had trouble recognizing how his friend actually felt. “Do you think you are ready for a kid?”

Paz scoffed, “We all know Djarin is the only one I ever would entrust a kid with.”

Din made a sound at the back of his throat, rubbing his beard. “Paz, it was you who took care of Grogu those first few weeks. Yes, he is my son and but don’t tell me you wouldn’t have been ready to adopt him if I had not.”

“And what about her?”

Remembering Boba’s previous implied question about your fidelity, Paz perked up, ready to come to your defence in case his friend decided to be stupid again. “What about her?”

Boba shrugged, “What do you feel for her? Yes, a baby is a big responsibility but there is also the question of who you are raising that child with.”

He relaxed at the question, nodding in thought. “She will be a great mom,” he murmured, thinking of the way you had laughed with Grogu in the car, how gentle and understanding you were with your students. Honestly, if you hadn’t been pregnant now, he doubted it would have taken him long to have the first thought of you holding his child.

But that was the problem. You weren’t going to be the only parent. That was his child as well.

“You both know my family,” he sighed, avoiding the mustering stares of Boba and Din, “You know about my father. That man was an asshole and a drunk addicted to poker. How can I,” he took a deep breath, finally voicing his fears as his voice broke, “How can I ever be better than that?”

Memories came rushing back. Of the fun summers in his uncle’s garage. Of the horrible winters at home, how sad his mother had been, trying her best to make up for a mostly-absent father. Of the moments his father hadn’t been absent but instead chosen to destroy any confidence his son had.

A heavy hand landed on his back and Paz flinched, blinking before finding Boba’s dark eyes. “I know what you are thinking,” the man said, “But you are not your father, Paz Vizsla, and you never have been. You are already so much better than him by trying to be honest with yourself. The question is do you want what your father did to you keep you from having the life you want?”

Curse Boba and his occasional words of wisdom.

“What are you thinking?” Din asked him, watching, curiously as Paz stood up, fiddling to his jacket over his arms.

“I’m taking a personal day tomorrow.”

Boba grinned, probably already knowing what was going in his head. “Don’t you have that Whistledown car inspection schooled?”

“Then I’ll come in later, I don’t care,” he muttered, slapping a few bills on the counter, “I need to talk to her.”

It was way too late and when the cab passed your street, he saw that all the lights were out. That when it hit home that maybe it was way too late to talk to you. (3am the dashboard clock let him know.) Besides, he had had too much to drink and could not think straight. He could wait.

And wait he did. Paz had never slept as badly as in that night, getting up at 6am to take a shower and prep breakfast, his hands trembling excitement and nervousness. For a moment, he lamented that Kitten had decided to stay at the garage (Boba had bribed her with treats, of that he was sure) but on second thought he would probably have driven her crazy with his pacing and tossing and turning.

No, he could wait.

He was out the door at 6:10am, making his way to the bar from last night to pick up his bike. This was too early still, he tried to tell himself, he did not want to seem like a maniac when he standing in front of your door. He wanted to look responsible and thoughtful and mature and –

Passing the gas station, he decided to turn around, his bike roaring under him.

Maybe a coffee would help settle his nerves.

You felt like shit and by now you were sure that both your heart and your stomach had decided to riot at the same time as you sobbed into the toilet, your gagging turning into dry heaving when your stomach had no more contents to throw up.

Cold sweat had built up on your forehead and you tried to remember Doctor Kaida’s words that ginger tea could sometimes help. You just needed to be able to make it to the kitchen.

You sniffled, flushing the toilet before quickly splashing some cold water on your face and trying to rinse your mouth of the acid taste that seemed to have burned itself into your throat. At least you had not gotten dressed yet, it would have been so much worse if you would have to think of another outfit to wear.

A look in the mirror reminded you that your feeling of misery did its best to be translated on the outside and you felt tears prick in your eyes again. You did not know what you had expected Paz to do and you tried to reason with yourself that he needed the time. Stars, it hadn’t even been 24 hours since you had told him about the pregnancy. You had had a whole weekend to think about it, it was only fair that you would award him that same courtesy.

But that was said so much easier than done when all you wanted was to just spend time with him. You wanted to be with him, every second of every day, and spend weekends on the couch with Kitten on your lap and, later on, with your baby.

A real baby.

You slipped your dress over your head, making sure it fell right before pulling on your tights. There was no hint of a baby belly yet but according to the internet there would be – soon. Which meant that not only would you have to tell your students about it but also their parents. And most importantly your boss.

Another wave of anxiety washed over you and you felt your stomach rumble. Principal Gideon would not be pleased, that was for sure, especially since you had just started working at the school. You just weren’t sure if it was going to be the pregnancy itself or rather the father of your baby who would be the thorn in his eyes.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to be late for school, when you made your way out of the house, bringing your little bag with you. Already, you had started a countdown in your head of how many hours were left of the work day. It being Monday, maybe you could get away with giving the kids some own occupational time where they could work on their art projects? That would at least give you a bit of respite and time to plan the next few days ahead.

You opened the door, immediately forgetting if you had packed your lunch or not and if you had forgotten it, did you have enough change to get a quick bite at the sandwich shop? And why was there a bike in your driveway?

You blinked in confusion, your hand tightening round the key in your hand until you recognized the dark blue paint on the bike, slightly chipped in places but generally well taken care of. Paz. It was Paz who was standing beside said bike, looking a little worse for wear but most importantly nervous. He was nervous.

The large man spotted you, straightening his posture and you smiled when you saw that he seemed to have put a bit more effort into his appearance. His hair was curly and fluffy, like when he had just stepped out of the shower, and you spotted a little patch on his denim jacket where there previously had been an oil stain. And you had never seen that flannel on him before …

“I, uh, I did not know what kind of flowers you liked,” he brought out, holding a little bouquet out in front of him. The clear plastic crinkled and you recognized the sticker from the little flower shop down by the gas station and you smiled.

“Thank you,” you said, your heart beating so fast you almost forgot how horrible the morning had gone. You walked closer, trying to hide the trembling in your hands as you reached out to take it from him. His fingers brushed yours and you both paused and you watched his fingers flex, carefully skimming over the inside of your wrist.

Stars, how you had missed his touch.

Paz shuffled and you noted he still had one hand behind him. You tilted your head, seeing something brown and furry behind his back.

“Is that a stuffie?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

He looked at you as if he didn’t understand the question before gathering himself, bringing his other hand in front of him. It was a small dark brown teddy bear with a little red bow tie and it looked like the softest thing you had ever seen. “Uh, yeah,” he said, taking in a deep breath, “Babies like soft things and I had this one teddy bear that my uncle gave me that I loved and I thought the baby might need one, too, and – and, uh,” he looked at you, “I want in. Like, all in.”

“All in?” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes and you could not help your hand landing on your belly, “Like, for real?”

Paz looked at you with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. “For real, sweetheart. All in.”

You sniffled, your mouth pulled wide in a grin as the first tear ran down your cheek. “I’m going to find some water for these,” you held up the flowers, “You want to come inside? I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

The dark haired man nodded, following you and you could not hide the emotion on your face. Paz wanted this. He wanted this with you.

As soon as the door closed behind him and you were both shielded from the curious eyes of your neighbours, Paz was in front of you, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

“I am sorry that I wasn’t better at taking in the information,” he apologized, eyes searching yours, a furrow between his brows when he spotted the tears, “You’re, stars, you’re pregnant, sweetheart, and I should’ve been happy and not disappeared on you and I promise –“

“Paz, hey,” you interrupted him gently, your hand coming up to his chest, “You are allowed to panic. Stars know I panicked, too. But I’m,” you lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice soft. His hands came up to frame your face, making you look at him and he was so … he looked so happy, it made your heart clench.

“Yeah,” you grinned, breathing out a laugh and he did too.

“Can I kiss you, love?” he asked quietly, his nose brushing against yours and even with the softness of the teddy bear against your back and the flowers in your hand, you did not even hesitate a second.

“Yes please,”

And he did.

It was soft and slow and absolutely perfect. His hands were pulling you closer, the stubble on his chin slightly scratching the sensitive skin of your jaw as his lips moved against yours, coaxing your mouth open so he could slide his tongue over yours.

Your breath hitched, whining when he pulled away from you.

“Can I drive you to work?” he asked, breathless, “I – I could pick you up and we could eat dinner or something.”

You nodded, biting your lips and you were so close he could feel your body heat through your cardigan and he wanted to raise your baby together. He wanted you. He wanted all of this. This was the best Monday ever.

“I’d like that,” you nodded quickly, “We – we could talk some more about all of this?”

“That sounds wonderful,” he kissed your neck, “We could order in from the diner?”

You groaned, “Paz Vizsla, you are the best man on earth.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #biker!paz vibes

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