#hurt real bad. the rest of my body hurts too (like my right knee gets it really bad even though i've never injured it??) but my thumbs are
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sigh. the weather is absolutely kicking my ass AND i am vitamin d deficient again so i am EXHAUSTED. getting my 2k words in is gonna be a bitch
#she bork#tbd#my thumbs hurt so so bad bc i've sprained them so many times i have bone spurs and the weather is very rainy and damp so it's making them#hurt real bad. the rest of my body hurts too (like my right knee gets it really bad even though i've never injured it??) but my thumbs are#by far the worst. which unfortunately i will need those for typing. as for the vitamin d lol i ran out of my vitamin d gummies and w rent#coming up and my bank fucking me mercilessly i don't have the money rn to buy more. i'm gonna have to wait until payday next friday. it just#sucks bc i like can hardly stay awake when i'm deficient in vitamin d like back before i had my labwork done and found out i was deficient i#used to sleep 12-14 hours a day and STILL be fucking tired when i was awake. feels like i'm wasting my fucking life. anyway so yes i'm#suffering but nonetheless we persevere and i will still get my words in. i just might fall asleep immediately afterwards
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pitfighter!vi after a breakup with you
warnings: angst, descriptions of injuries, substance abuse
an: i just farted this shit out idek if it’s good not gonna proof read
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the bottles seem to keep falling empty out of her hands and rolling onto the rotted wood of her bedroom floor, clanking into each other as vi downs them one by one. it’s been two weeks, fourteen goddamn days since she saw your tear-stained face, cursing at her, “i never want to see you again!” as you left her standing there in the cold, dark street. fourteen days.
in these days, vi has been nothing but drunk and bloody. she upped her fights to three matches a night, four if she’s high enough. her body aches from the amount of trauma it’s been through; a few broken ribs, knuckles bloody and raw almost to the bone, her left eye greenish-blue and slightly swollen.
nothing really hurts though, as long as she keeps putting the bottle to her lips—
“vi?” your voice called out, low and soft in her darkened bedroom. the light from the moon shined onto the floorboards and clutter. vi sat, knees bent and hands resting on them, back against the few cushions she called a “bed.” she didn’t really remember how she ended up on the floor, but she also didn’t even know what day or time it was, either.
she blinked a few times, seeing an outline of a body in the doorway.
she had to be hallucinating. it was the alcohol, it was… no way in hell you would show up here, how did you even get in? how did you find her? how in the fucking world did you-
“violet, what did you do…” your face came into the light, your eyes bore right into vi’s. she tightly shut hers and shook her head, trying to get you out of her mind.
warm hands cupped her face. you knelt down to be face level with her, your thumbs caressed her makeup-stained cheeks. “vi?” that little crease in between your eyebrows that vi loved so much was prominent as you worriedly surveyed the wounds and injuries all over her body.
“are you real?” vi’s voice was coarse, it didn’t even really sound like her. it was like she was talking through water, outside of her body.
you felt tears welling up in your eyes as you heard the broken woman sitting slumped in front of you. “yes, yes i’m real.. i’m here.”
vi’s opal eyes looked into yours, a certain yearn and heartbreak in them.
“i’m so sorry..” she slurred her words, “i fucked up so bad, y/n. you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i destroyed it just like everything else.” her head hung low on her shoulders as she looked to the floor, hiding her face in her blackened-pink hair. “you loved me in a way no one ever had, saw through all my bullshit. you-you even fucking showed up right here, right now, after all of the shit i yelled at you.. all the things i did….” a sob racked through her body. she was tipping over, the weight on her shoulders becoming too much, and you found yourself catching her with your body. vi clung onto you, wrapping her strong bandaged arms around your lower waist as she buried her head into your stomach. you stayed on your knees, making you just a little taller than her.
vi broke in your arms. she (tried) to hold it in these past couple weeks, not allowed herself to think too much or be alone for too long. of fucking course, as soon as you come in, all of it comes back to her. (it doesn’t help that’s she’s incredibly drunk or how tired she is, either)
“you came back, why did you come back?” vi’s voice was shaking as the inky tears stained your shirt, causing your heart to break even more for the girl in your arms.
“loris came to me, told me you were.. you weren’t well. you’re doing three fights a night, vi? why the hell would you do that, huh?” your fingers gently caressed her head, holding her broken body to your chest.
when vi didn’t answer, you carefully lifted her head. her eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed.
had she fallen asleep in her drunken state?
“violet, baby, wake up” you stroked her cheeks, but she was out like a light.
you helped her get into her bed, took off her shoes and carefully wiped off her makeup with a wet wash cloth from her dirty sink. she didn’t stir once, not until you got up from her to leave. her hand softly grabbed onto your forearm, and she slurred something that sounded like “stay with me” but you weren’t completely sure.
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MY SHAYLAA😭😭😭😭🚬😪
#pit fighter vi#vi x reader#vi x you#pitfightervi x you#vi arcane#violet arcane#vi x caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman#arcane#vi angst#vi x y/n#caitvi#cait x reader#cait x vi#vi oneshot#pitfigher!vi x reader#pitfighter!vi x you#pitfigher!vi angst
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omg omg i need weird!reader and rafe walking around the woods and reader getting horny so rafe fucks her real good kdjwoqywlsbqks i cant
A million times yes. This is so them I’m obsessed. Thank you for this idea nonnie! Fucking outside, choking, rough unprotected sex, bondage, lil bit of breeding kink, spanking(with a belt), and a lil bit of fluff at the end, as a treat. A lil over 2k words. 18+MDNI!!
It was an average Saturday afternoon for you and Rafe. You drug him out to some random ass spot in the woods for one of your impromptu photo shoots and also “to look for cool rocks” in your own words. Rafe used to act semi annoyed that you turned him into a trained Instagram boyfriend but at this point he’s happy to do it. He loves watching you get dressed in your pretty little outfits and how you always have a vision down to the scenery. He adores your creativity.
After he had snapped probably over a hundred photos of you the two of you slowly made your way back to the car. You weren’t in any hurry. It was a beautiful day as the sun started to set into dusk, the glowing golden light shining through the branches of the trees as a perfect temperature breeze blew through your hair. You look at your boyfriend with heart eyes as he treks through the crunchy foliage with his hand in yours. His white tee is taunt around his shoulders and it’s just short enough that everytime he lifts his arms just right it reveals a sliver of his waist. The dark washed jeans he’s wearing are hugging his ass just right and there was just something about him in a SnapBack that made you feel especially feral. It didn’t hurt that he did all of this just for you, who could blame you if you wanted him to fuck you into the dirty forest floor.
“Heeeeyyy, Raafeee.” You call out to him in a sing song tone that causes him to let out a sigh because you only use that tone when you want something or you’re about to ask him some outlandish shit.
“What is it, princess?” His steps come to a halt and he turns his large frame towards you as he gives you a skeptical look.
“Do you wanna fuck?” You look up at him with a devilish smirk that completely contradicts how much of an angel you look like right now. The sun is shining through the trees down onto you like a spotlight in that pretty little white dress and sometimes he truly can’t believe you’re real.
“Right now?” Rafe chuckles as he returns your smirk with one of his own.
“Yeah, right fuckin’ now, baby. I want you to fuck me into the dirt.” Your voice is saccharine as you close the distance between you and lace your fingers in the soft cotton material of his shirt.
“God, I fuckin’ love you, you know that?” The corner of Rafe’s lips quirk into a smirk and his hands snake around you to grab onto your ass through the thin material of your dress.
“Yeah? You’re pretty alright too, I guess.” You giggle and lean towards him so your bodies are flush against each other as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you into the ground like a dirty little whore.” Rafe starts to walk you until your back is pressed against a nearby tree before wrapping his hand around your throat and using his grip to connect your lips in a messy, wet kiss. Rafe grabs onto your hips and flips you so you're facing the tree. He grips onto your wrists so he can guide your hands to rest against the rough bark as his knee pushes your legs open at the same time. His palms run down your arms to your lower back where he pushes until you’re arched enough for his liking.
“Oh, look at you. You look so pretty in this dress baby. Like a fuckin’ Angel or some shit.” He runs his hands over your asscheeks before grabbing onto them roughly squeezing and jiggling your plush skin. “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty…”
He roughly pushes your dress up before cracking his hands down on both sides of your ass.
“Oh fuuuck.” You whine and moan as he spanks you again and again.
“Get this shit outta my fuckin’ way.” His fingers loop through the holes in your white fishnets before tearing them at the crotch and not stopping until your entire ass was exposed to him. He groans at the sight before him. The tights are ripped so they’re practically framing your ass like a piece of fucking art. You’re so wet the inside of your thighs are glistening and that tiny white thong was practically being swallowed by your creamy pussy.
“Goddamn, my perfect fuckin’ slut. So wet for me and I haven’t even touched your desperate little cunt yet.” You hear the sound of his belt buckle clanking and your pussy clenches in anticipation at what’s to come.
“You gonna spank me with your belt daddy?” Rafe can hear the smirk in your voice as you wiggle your ass and arch your back further. He swears if he had a ring he might propose to you right now.
“Yeah. You’re getting ten. Count.” You hear the whoos of the expensive leather gliding through the air before it lands a harsh smack on your ass.
“Oh fuck! One.” He glides the smooth leather across your skin before giving you another, harsher smack. “Two!”
“Now, say ‘thank you daddy’.” Two more blows come down on either side of your ass and it has you jolting forward causing the rugged bark of the tree to dig into your soft palms.
“Three. Four! Thank you daddy!” Five, six, and seven are the hardest yet but you count them all, thanking him after each one.
“So good for me, princess. Look so fuckin’ sexy right now. Two more. Count em’.” Rafe slides the belt between your legs, bringing it up to smack against your wet, barely clothed cunt.
“Fuck - oh my god - Nine.” He hits your pussy again and you feel like your legs are going to buckle from the mix of pain and pleasure your boyfriend is dealing you. “Ten!”
“Good fuckin’ girl, think you earned a reward, huh?” Rafe pushes your panties to the side and shoves two fingers knuckle deep inside you all in one motion. You don’t even have time to think before he’s thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Gimme one, cum all over my fingers and then I’ll pound this tight little pussy till you cry.”
Rafe curves his fingers and pushes his thumb against your clit and that’s all it takes to have you gushing around his thick digits. “Yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, fuckin’ cum for me.”
He doesn’t stop until he feels your walls stop pulsing around him and your knees start to buckle. He pulls your back against his front and shoves his slick covered fingers past your lips. You take them in, greedily sucking your own taste from his skin.
“Please fuck me.” You whine and push your ass back against his clothed cock. He pulls his fingers from your mouth so he can push the straps of your dress down causing it to pool around your feet. You’re bare before him aside from what’s left of your tights and the black platform boots on your feet.
“Get on your knees. Hands behind your back.” You oblige him, lowering yourself down onto the fallen leaves and dirt below you. Rafe kneels down behind you with his belt in hand and wraps it around your wrists so you’re bound before him. “My perfect little toy. My pretty little doll tied up all pretty for me.”
He grabs onto one of your tits roughly pinching your nipple between two of his fingers while the other grips onto your jaw. His hard cock presses against your ass and god you want him so bad. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses on the column of your throat before licking a stripe along it.
“Tell me. Tell me you’re my pretty little toy to use.” The hand not on your jaw starts to make work of his button and zipper, pulling his thick cock from his pants. He thrusts forward so it slides perfectly between your thighs, his hard shaft rubbing perfectly between your pussy lips.
“I’m your toy, daddy. Just a hole for you. Please fuck me.” You whine and wiggle your hips, rubbing your messy cunt on his cock, desperate for any friction.
“I love it when you’re desperate and pathetic.” You can hear the smirk in Rafe’s voice as his large hand splays across your upper back and pushes you down until your cheek is against the ground and your ass is in the air. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He lines himself up with your entrance and slams into you to the hilt. He immediately finds your sweet spot as he plunges his cock deep inside of you at a brutal pace. He grips onto the belt restraining your hands, using it to pull you back harder onto his cock with each thrust.
“Yeah daddy, fucking use me.” Rafe practically growls at your words as his free hand comes down to press your cheek further into the mud. It's so messy and primal. The way he’s fucking you like a bitch in heat while the ground below you dirties your skin and your milk white tights. Your expensive calf high boots are surely covered as well but you can’t bring yourself to care when this just might be the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Rafe uses his grip on the belt to pull you up so your back is flush against him, forcing him even deeper than ever as he continues to impale you with his thick cock.
“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I fuckin’ love you.” Rafe grips onto your throat and it has your pussy pulsing around him as you cum undone on his dick. “Fuck, that’s right, cum on my cock, my perfect little whore.”
“Fuck, I love you daddy, I love you, I love you.” You’re babbling, drunk off his cock as drool starts to drip down your chin and onto Rafe’s digits. “Want your cum. Fuck me full, want it so bad.”
“Oh fuuuuck. Yeah - fuck yeah baby, gonna breed this cunt, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna give you his cum.” You feel his cock slip from inside you and before you can question what he’s doing he’s unlooping your hands and flipping you onto your back. His dick slides back into you with ease, you lock your legs around his hips, using your boot covered feet to push him even deeper. His hands come down on either side of your head as he resumes fucking you vigorously.
“Takin’ me so well, princess, my dirty fuckin’ girl.” Rafe leans down so he can connect your lips in a filthy kiss as his plush lips practically swallow you whole. “Oh - fuck - I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”
His hips slam against yours over and over before he tenses above you as he paints your walls. The feeling sends you over the edge with him as you milk his cock for all it’s worth.
“Goddamn.” Rafe chuckles as he pushes himself up so he can look down at you. Your hair is a disaster of leaves and tangles, there’s dirt smudged on your cheeks and across your chest but god do you still look like an angel. “You’re perfect, ya know that?”
“Mmm, you’re pretty perfect too.” You giggle and pull him down into a much more tender kiss. He obliges you for a few moments before pulling away.
“Aight, let’s get off this dirty ass ground and get you home, yeah? Get you in a bath and shit.” He pushes himself up and tucks his cock back into his pants before leaning down to hook his hands under your arms and man handle you to your feet. He grabs your dress from the ground and pulls it over your head before trying to get a few of the leaves out of your hair.
“Yeah, that sounds perfect. I love you, Rafe.” You smile at him like he’s your whole world and he feels his heart warm. He’s been wanting to marry you more and more lately.
“Got me all fuckin’ soft.” Rafe scoffs and rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you back to the car.
All Things Rafe & His Weird!Girl Here
Tagging some moots: @sturnioloshacker @bimbotrashcan @babygorewhore @starkeysprincess
#divider is @strangergraphics#weird!girl reader#Dolly writes#requests#rafe Cameron#rafe blurb#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe smut#rafe Cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe one shot
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nct are such fraternity boy college athletes fuckboys coded it's insane !! everyone i see a video of those men with the homosexual tendencies, vaping addiction, and their athletic garments, it really only cements this theory. their disography and music videos add to this too 😔✋ u know 90's love, universe (let's play ball), alley oop, bad alive eng ver.
can imagine them walking around this elite prestigious campus all loud and obnoxious. they know everyone is looking at them and want to fuck them too. they're chronic drinkers, vapers, cheaters, fuckboys. what would get most students expelled, they do on a tuesday afternoon.
nct are mostly made up of foreigners right? watch them walk around the campus as rich international students, some are here on academic or athletic scholarships they don't need. everything they own is designer. playing the 'sorry my korean isn't so good, can you help me?' card, and what they want help with is you sucking their dick.
the korean members aren't any better. they're every single horrible stereotype you hear of korean hongdae fuckboys. will come up to you all sweet and pretty, but they're horrid.
cw for under the cut: they are toxic males
can literally imagine haechan vaping on the college campus, moaning in the back of the class obnoxiously, and pulling the thing where he jokingly asks for your number ALL THE TIME. going to college parties and getting wasted after 3 drinks idk 🤷 ,,, he'd be so whiny and teasing too. bc obviously he's a rude BITCH but he's so pretty and whiny and flirtatious. he's fucking everything in sight, absolute whore!! his body count is triple his age. he'd genuinely try to suck one of his friends' dick and claim it doesn't mean anything because he has clothes on !! 😔✋ he'd be stroking his dick while you're in the room, whimpering your name. the type to get on his knees and beg for any kind of attention from you..
mark lee starting off being a cute college boy canadian transfer but becomes the NOTORIOUS korean pastor's son fuckboy in like the span of 3 months. he'll act real nice, and that's because he is real nice. being super sweet and asking if you want to get coffee with him and study. and he's so good with his words you'll think that's all it is. but then of course, since he's so good with his words he'll have you blushing and giggling as he takes you back to his apartment and gets your clothes off. talking yapping so much you don't even realise what he has you doing, that you're just another girl he's pulled. he'll still be whispering when his face is in your pussy. telling you how easily you cum. "dang girl, wait a lil' can't you?" implying you're the whore,
YUTA yuta is the entire campus crush. the star football ⚽️ player and the rockstar vocalist in a band. has sex with all the groupies that come to his concerts. he's dragging people up on stage to shotgun them while the guitar break plays. absolute heartbreaker. would definitely kick the ball to your head so that when it hits you, he has to go over check if you're alright, take you up to the nurse and wait with you. he is such a liar, it genuinely hurts. lying all the time and making up words and stories left and right. but he smells like cherries and watery perfume !! he tastes like it too. you'll be coming to all his garage concerts just to see if you'll be the one he takes backstage to fuck after. he's like a god, half the time you don't even realise he's a student like the rest of you. he's just an angel sent to have fun and fuck or smth.
jaemin nah he's horrid. he'll cheat on you, and with his cute smile you'll forgive him instantly. 😔✋ he'll spend a little cash dress you in designer, make you cum until you faint, and tell you how beautiful and perfect you are for him. he will genuinely have you thinking those girls meant nothing to him, theyre just a way to vent his stress and you're the only one he loves. and then bro will say he can't stay the night, as he needs to wake up early for training. you agree, obviously. and he left for another girl's house to fuck her too. when you met him he smelled so sweet, and it was someone else's perfume. each of his girls swear they're his favourite of his, and one day he's planning fucking them all in the same room.
JOHNNY SUH? he would abuse the american transfer student status. he walks around without a shirt, soaking wet, and never get pulled up. he's rich too, got bands on his wrist and multiple cars. going on holidays overseas every chance he get and hosting parties every weekend. when you get drunk at one of them, almost falling off the balcony, someone will come up and help you to a chair. he'll take real good care of you, going above and beyond. so you can't let this guy leave when he's everything you've ever wanted. so you pull yourself onto him and ride him while the party rages on inside. make sure his dick feels so good he'll ask for your number. but you don't know that you're the fifth girl who's thrown herself at him that night.
taeyongie ^-^ he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen. bros too sweet and shy to be handing out with the rest of the neo WHORES. he's the leader of a lot of clubs but he mainly sits in cute little cafes. genuinely he seemed too adorable? to be considered the 'leader' of some horrific ahh fuckboys. until you check twitter and you see someone's reposted his MANY MULTIPLE HE HAS A LOT sex tapes. he's surrounded by ridiculously hot guys and girls, and they're passing him around like a joint, and he's begging to be humiliated. they're making him cum so much he crying. he's stronger than most of them but he's letting himself be thrown around like a doll. absolutely wrecked. looking in the camera with pretty black eyes and a slurred voice before someone shoves a cock back in this throat "am i pretty?" zhong chenle is the epitome of the chinese international student stereotype. he's almost never there, never takes off his sunglasses. he has several of those douyin type baddies trailing after him. "you have nice collarbones and pretty eyes, i like. what's your instagram?" he'll be talking with his friend renjun about what yacht he should buy during class. he can buy your affection simply because he's just that rich. will shove his black card down his pants and tell you there's only one way to get it. buys rolex watches so that he can have it on while he fingers you. dresses you in diamonds and he doesn't want to be paid back in cash. qian kun is there on an academic scholarship, but he doesn't need it. he's just that good, the school begs to have him attend. he's not a fuckboy in the conventional sense but he's just as nasty. he wants to have the perfect girl for him, to bring back to his family. he'll look for the most naive but academic girl he can. he's a manipulator. he's trying to mold you into what he wants. he'll replace your entire wardrobe with designer, but he picked out all the clothes. he'll plan cute dates for you every day, but it's to stop you from hanging out with your skanky friends. he'll buy you a new phone, but he's already added software tech to spy on you. in some essences, even though he's not a fuckboy, he's much worse than one.
jisung, like taeyong, looks so sweet. but he's NASTY. he'll seem too quiet to be hanging out with the rest of the dreamie WHORES. so you don't mind sitting next to him in your lecture. but he's just a mix of all of dream. he's good with his words like mark, and he'll have you agreeing to meet at his place EASY. he's too cute to refuse like haechan and jaemin. and then the renjun part hits, silent and sneaky, he'll be doing everything to make you think you're coming on to him. once he finally has you, he'll make a mess of you like a feral animal, the way you've heard jeno fucks. and you realise he's just like the rest of the dreamies, you shouldn't have thought otherwise. he might actually be worse than all of them.
tell me if u want me to make these like a full post or add more characters IM SO CRAZY DELULU RN SORRY xx !! 💋
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#wayv smut#haechan smut#donghyuck smut#mark lee smut#yuta nakamoto smut#jaemin smut#johnny suh smut#taeyong smut#chenle smut#kun smut
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Physiotherapy and coconut oil.
Just a thought on this
Pairing: idol!Chan x fem!reader.
Genre: fluff, crack maybe??, friends/co-workers to?
Warnings: make out session, half naked Chan?????, mention of handjob, handjob, mention of anger issues, dry humping, mention of food and alcohol, mention of dom!chan, sub!chan, softdom!reader, let me know if I miss something. DO NOT USE COCONUT OIL ON YOUR PRIVATE AREAS!!
Author note: we need to talk about this outfit, I know that I'm late but bro, look at him, his stupid boobs, and arms, and abs? I'm on my knees, hair in a ponytail, ready to do my job. why? because I'm a whore for this man, also his physiotherapist is lucky as fuck, I mean he or she or they can touch this man, without anything on...I’m too tired and lazy so not proofread
(the recipe of the pasta mentioned in the story is here especially for my vegetarian and lactose free friends 💅🏼)
Also fun fact: being a physiotherapist is my dream job and this makes me way too much delulu.
-✉️
I’m so insecure about my English, as I said it’s not my first language and I’m always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that, so if you find mistakes please let me know, I’ll be thankful and also my English will improve!
-✉️
As always requests are open!💘
A knock from the door of your little studio call your attention
“C’mon in, the door is open”
You say, closing your laptop to pay attention to him
A head covered with a black beanie and a smile with a pair of dimples appeared at your door.
“Hello, my beautiful, amazing wonderful y/n, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and-“
“What did you do?”
You cut him off
He close the door behind his back
“Let’s say that hypothetically I went to the gym”
He sits right in front of you
“Mh, you do it every day, what’s the problem?”
He giggles a little
“You know last time that we saw each other?”
He asks
“Yeah, umh Wednesday?”
“Mhmh, and what you did to me?”
“The-what? The usual massage? Back, neck, thigh, basically the whole body”
“Exactly, and you know that I was mad because of that little thing that I won't bring it up again?”
“Yes, what’s the problem Chan? I have a lot of things to do”
“Iwenttothegymrightafteroursession”
“Excuse me, what?”
You asked confused
“I-uh- don’t get mad please, you know that I love you, we are friends right? Your hair looks pretty today”
You look at him, raising your eyebrows waiting for the real answer
“I went to the gym, right after our session, and I lifted a couple weights, and umh- I heard a crack on my neck, but now everything hurts, so can you please fix me?”
“YOU DID WHAT?”
you raise your voice
“I’m sorry I was mad”
“Christopher”
You say
“Not the government name please, you scare the shit out of me when you call me ChRiStoPheR. And I know okay? You have all the rights to be mad at me, I’m sorry, but I was about to explode, my options were the gym or the big boss face”
“Take off your shirt”
You sight
“I love when you say that”
“Shut up, before I punch you in the face”
You say
“Rude”
He says
“Stupid”
You stand up and search on the little cabinet everything you need for the massage
“I’m sorry”
He looks at you
“It’s okay Chan. But when I tell you to rest after our sessions it’s because I mean it, it’s part of the healing process. Even Changbin listens to me, and you, more than me know that he’s a gym rat.”
“I know, I’m sorry I was just-“
“Overwhelmed?"
“Yes”
He says taking off his shirt
“You know that you can talk to me right? I’m not just here to fix y’all muscles, I’m a friend. You can call me, anytime, you say “y/n I had a bad day can we talk?”. 5 minutes walk and I’m at your dorm, and you know it Channie.”
Your tone is sweeter now
“It was three in the morning y/n, I- I didn’t want to wake you up, I’m a man, I can’t-“
“So sweet of you to think that I sleep at three. and Channie yes, you’re a man and you’re human and as a human you have emotions, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes or mad, sad, angry, emotionless, it’s totally fine, if you feel like you're about to explode than you need to talk"
He looks at you, silently
"you can call, or FaceTime me if you don't want me around, we don't need to talk about what's upsetting you, but you can't be alone with your thoughts"
"didn't know that you were this sweet you know?"
"I'm not sweet"
"mhmm, you're right you're more like a mom"
he smiles at you
“What? I’m younger than you”
“Meh, just a couple of years”
He says smiling
“C’mon, don’t stare at me like a little puppy, and put away the damn dimples, with those abs you look everything but cute”
“Oh yeah?”
“Shut up and lay on your stomach”
“Mhhhh, okay okay”
He lays down, giving a full view of his back, wider than when the two of you met, if you had him as a friend with benefits (for your studies of course) during your anatomy exam, you would probably have had the best score of the class.
As soon as your hands touch his back he twitches
“Ah fuck”
“I barely touched you”
You say
“Your hands are fucking cold y/n, where did you keep them inside the freezer?”
“God, you scared me. Don’t be a pussy, they will warm up, I promise”
You say touching him again
“Mhhhhh -he cries- usually you don’t have cold hands”
He says
“Because you’re the last one that I treat, I.N always get my cold hands, and he got used to it”
“Oh poor I.N, he-ah he has-ah to get through this”
“Stop whimpering”
“I’m not whimpering”
“Yes, you are”
“No, I’m-ah not”
“See, you’re a whimper man”
You say massaging the lower part of his back
"I'm not-ah-fuck"
"next time, if I say that you have to rest, go home, take a warm shower, eat something, and go to bed, you're lucky that you don't have a fever"
you slap his back
"aah what's wrong with you?"
"you're an asshole, and you act like a child"
you slap him again
"stop slapping me"
he says sitting down on the small massage bed
"no"
you slap him again
"oh my god stop it"
"no - you slap his chest - you know that you could've hurt your self huh? you and your stupid anger issues - you slap once again - what you were trying to gain to stupid bitch?"
"stop slapping me"
he says blocking your wrists
"I said I'm sorry, next time if I'll feel overwhelmed I'll call you okay? just bring soju with you"
"soju? wanna get drunk?"
you ask trying to escape from his grip
"fuck yes, I need to get drunk"
"I'll buy soju on my way home and you can come over okay?"
"you’re inviting me in your house?"
he asks, caressing your wrists with his thumb
"yeah, you know no boys around so we can talk freely, and I'll make dinner"
"mh...okay then"
he says smiling, showing once again his stupid dimples
"now, let me finish my job okay? go home, take a warm shower and then come over"
"okay mom"
"don't"
you try to hide a smile
"now lay down"
he stares at you
"please?"
you say, and this bitch lays down, just because you said please? fuck it's going to be looong night
"try not to whimper this time okay?"
you whisper near his hear
"I'll try, ma'am"
-
you just got out of the shower when you hear the doorbell
"SHIT, WAIT GIVE ME A SECOND"
you scream, trying to dress yourself as fast as you can, not thinking about who's your guest, but honestly you don't give a fuck, you're in your own house and it's summer, that's what you think trying to justify your shorts and tank top
"Hi Channie, I'm sorry I made you wait, come in"
"Oh, Hei no worries it's my fault, I should've texted you"
he says taking off his shoes before getting inside
"I wouldn't answered you, my phone died at work, and I was so late that the moment I came home, I prepared the sauce for the pasta and I jumped into the shower"
"no worries -he giggles- wanna help with dinner while you dry your hair?”
"oh no, stay away from my kitchen, set the table and open the red wine that you find in the counter"
"yes ma'am"
he says
"damn, this wine looks good where did you get it?"
"oh-my mom send a bunch of stuff from Italy to me, so I don't get homesick"
you say stirring the sauce
"stuff like alcohol?"
"yes, and food"
you laugh
"sooo much food, the best that I can do is sharing, you know sharing is caring"
"and what are you making tonight?"
he says looking over your shoulders
"mh, pasta all'arrabbiata"
"i have no idea of what it is but sounds good, also I've never heard you talking in italian, sounds sexy"
"CHAN"
"WHAT"
"stop it"
you say turning towards him
"what I'm not doing anything"
"you're flirting"
you say
"flirting? I don't know what flirting is"
he says with a smile on his face
"oh put those dimples away"
you say turning to the kitchen counter, checking if the pasta is ready, or maybe you don't want to show him your cheeks getting redder
"we can sit, while we wait for the pasta”
you say walking towards him
“wanna a glass of wine?"
"please, yes"
you say almost disparately, he pours two BIG glasses of wine
"cheers, to the best physiotherapist ever"
"to the most stubborn person I know, who can't listen"
you say looking him in the eyes
"cheers Chan"
"cheers y/n"
"so you think I'm stubborn huh?"
"oh yeah, definitely"
"why?"
he asks sipping his wine
"why what? why I think you're a stubborn?"
he nods
"you don't listen to people who care about you? and you do almost everything without thinking? and you think you're invicible, you try to keep everything on your shoulders forgetting that you're a human? mh yes, you're a stubborn"
"damn, you can't lie huh?"
"nope"
you say sipping some wine
"can I check the pasta or you're going to kill me?"
"no, I'll check it, in my house guests don't make dinner"
"mh, can I come here more often?"
he asks giggling
"of course, the door is always open for you...I mean you guys, you know, you and the boys, all of them"
you get up, slapping mentally your face
what the fuck y/n behave yourself, he's just a friend. A hot one tho, but just a friend.
thanks God the pasta is ready, you mix it with the sauce and then pour it in two plates
"here we go"
you say sitting next to Chan, he waits for you, and after you take the first bite, he starts eating with you
“You need something else?”
"absholutely noth, thish ish perfect"
he says with his mouth full of pasta, you smile at this sight of him, without his working dark aura. People says that he's scary as fuck when he's working, and they mean it, he change completely, especially when he is in the studio, it's like an alter ego (we can call it Christopher yeah)
"so...you like it?"
you ask taking a bite a food
"yesh -he swallows- I want you to come at the dorm and cook for me...I mean us everyday, oh you should do a cooking competition with Lee Know, I would probably die because the good food but it would be a great death"
you laugh
"it's called food coma"
"really?"
he asks
"mhmm, try my nonna's food then we can talk about food coma"
"nonna is...?"
"oh, my grandma, she is a great chef"
"then I have to meet her"
he says finishing his plate
"in order to meet her you have to go to Italy, also she doesn't speak a word of English or Korean so you have to learn Italian"
"for good food? I'll do everything. You can be my teacher, I'm sure that you know how to speak it"
"me? your teacher?"
"yes"
"why me?"
"because you can speak Italian and I want to spend more time with you"
you choke on wine
"you what?"
you try to speak between the cough
"you okay?"
he asks patting gently your back
"yes, I'm okay, thanks. You really mean it?"
you ask
"what?"
"that you want to spend more time with me"
"yes, and I don't mean at the studio. I want to know you better as a friend, as a person"
"fuck Chan"
you get up, taking both of the plates to wash it
"fuck Chan what?"
he follows you at the sink
"we can't, you-you can't know me better"
"why not?"
he asks shrugging his shoulders
"because-I can't"
"mh? you have a boyfriend in Italy?"
"no"
"then why I can't know you better?"
"my...my contract, I signed a contract when the company hired me"
"and?"
he asks
"I can't have anything with my patients, and you're one of them"
you say looking at him
"where is the problem? -he asks- we're not at the company, we're just two friends who had dinner together, with some wine"
he says getting closer to you
"Chan please...don't"
"what? I'm not doing anything"
he says
"I know, it's me, I'm the problem, I don't know if I can contain my self right now, not after what you said"
"then do it, don't contain your self"
"this-you move your hands between your bodies-won't happened ever again"
"I can't make this promise"
he traps you with his arms between his body and the sink
"fuck Chan"
you say before kissing him on the lips, they’re so soft and you fucking knew it.
“We shouldn’t do that”
You say in between the kisses
“Shut up”
He says lifting you up, your legs locked behind his back
“Fuck-fuck-fuck it’s cold”
You say when your ass touch the marble of the kitchen counter, he giggling in your lips. Hands on his curls, pulling almost too roughly but he doesn’t seem to mind it
“That’s the revenge for the massage with your stupid cold hands”
“Yeah? If this the revenge that i get I’ll switch your turn with I.N so you’ll have my cold hands on your body everyday”
You say kissing his neck, way too roughly, biting and sucking his soft skin. For sure he’s going to have marks all over his neck tomorrow, but there’s make up to cover it up right?
“Sofa, please”
You say looking in his eyes
“Fuck I love when you beg, it turns me on”
He says picking up by your thighs, walking to the small sofa in your living room.
“You get turned on easily huh?”
“Shut up, I bet that you’re wet since I came into your house”
He says sitting on the couch, your legs on each side of him
“I’m always wet when your around”
“Yeah? So many lost opportunities for my dick”
He says pouting, placing his hands on your ass
“None of my business”
You say smiling, kissing his lips again and again, his tongue sliding inside your mouth, so gently and sweet, he taste like good wine, and you feel you can almost get drunk just with his tongue (maybe you’re already are)
“Stop grinding on my dick or i will fuck you in this small sofa”
“Such a dirty mouth Christopher”
You say grinding on him once more
“Mmhph please don’t use that name”
“Why not whimper man?”
You say placing your hands on his abs
“Your accent, I don’t know it’s just, I don’t know”
“Wow, you have clear ideas”
You laugh getting more comfortable on his lap, even if there’s something hard hat almost bothers you.
“You know what I’ve been thinking the whole day? At the studio, in the shower, even while I was in the car to come here”
“What?”
“Your hands, and that thing that you said to me”
“Mh?”
You’re confused, trying to understand what his talking about
“Your handjobs”
“Ooooh that, why? I mean it’s just a handjob”
You say shrugging your shoulders
“Yeah but why they’re so special?”
“Oh you wanna know the key huh?”
He nods looking at you
“My job”
“They teach you how to do-“
“Nonono”
You laugh shaking your hands
“Because of my job I have to use a lot of massage oil, coconut oil and stuff like that, so my hands are soft”
“Oooh so that’s the key”
“Yeah, some love, and coconut oil or lube”
“So that’s why you smell like coconut”
You laugh
“Yes, but I have a question”
“What’s up?”
He asks
“Wanna try?”
“What?”
You look at him
“Oooh that? I-I mean if you want to”
“I’m asking for your consent Chris, I’ve teased you enough today”
You laugh
“You think? I’ve been hard the whole day, my balls might be turned blue, so it’s a yes”
“Give me a second okay?”
You leave a kiss on his lips and go to your bed room searching for the coconut oil (that of course it’s in your bed side table for scientific purposes👀) you glance quickly your self in the mirror and you’re a mess, but don’t mind it.
“Here I am”
You say, sitting once again on his lap
“Let me warm you up a little more yeah?”
You say kissing his lips way more roughly than the first time, and a moan slips into your mouth
“Here you are my favorite whimper boy”
You say grinding your hips on him
“Mhhphf, I’m not whimpering, it’s just that- it’s the first time that someone - I’m the one who’s on top usually”
“Uuuh we have a dom here mh? Interesting, but let me be the one in control tonight yeah?”
“Please…y/n it hurts please do something”
He says in a desperate tone, kissing you so roughly that your lips are going to be swollen tomorrow
You work with his pants, taking out his warm and hard cock, that is leaking pre-cum liquid
“So needy”
You look at him in the eyes, you open the little jar and squeeze it a couple of drops drop in your dominant hand
“Can I?”
“Yes, please y/n please”
You slowly trace you fingertips around the head of his dick, spreading the pre cum liquid, making his dick slippery.
You wrap your hand around his dick, stroking it up and down so slowly that he looks so desperate.
“God- Please move, this is so frustrating”
He says placing his hands on top of yours
“Ah-ah put this hands behind your back, you can’t touch it”
“But it’s my cock”
He says arguing
“You have two options, you can place your hands behind you back and let me do my job, or I can tie you up so can’t move at all”
You say still stroking his dick
“No, no okay, I’ll put them behind my back”
“Such a good boy”
You kiss his lips, a deep moan sleeping out of his mouth. You place your hand on the base of his dick, using a tighter grip then before, moving it up and down paying attention to his head and to the most sensitive part of it.
“Mhhphf-fuck”
You keep moving your hand on him, and you know that he’s close by the way he move his body, the way he breathe, and the way he’s looking at you, his hands on your ass has a tighter grip now
“Fuck, I’m about to cum, please, please don’t stop.”
And of course you don’t stop, you already played too much with him, you stroke his cock faster now and he cums, a warm load of white and thick liquid running down his dick. You lick your fingers smiling, his head resting on your shoulder.
“Fuck”
He giggles
“What-who are you? Jesus Christ I’m-”
You giggle with him
“Now I’ll have a boner every time you treat me at the studio, you and your stupid coconut oil”
You laugh louder now, knowing that it’s not a joke.
“You laughing at me?”
He asks looking at you
“Yeah, maybe”
You shrug your shoulders
“Right…let me see if you can handle Christopher, yeah?”
He gets up, picking you up on one of his shoulders
“Waaaaa, what does this mean? Chaaaaan put me down”
“Ahah, Chan is not available at the moment call him later”
He says picking up that stupid coconut oil and walking away from the couch
“Now, tell me where is your bed room”
-
-
A/N: I think this is my first real smut, uhm this is so embarrassing, imma eclisse my self bye love you
#skz#chansshands thoughts#bang chan#stray kids#bang chan x reader#skz scenarios#bang chan fanfic#bangchan#christopher bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x y/n#christopher bang chan smut
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MESSY LOVE patrick zweig
you stared at him blankly as he rambled out some other excuse for his behavior. you had been fighting too long, and you were numbed and tired of it all. your head hurt and your heart was aching. after all this time, still nothing had been accomplished. patrick still believed he was in the right and he was even going to great lengths to make you believe that as well.
“you know, you are actually being quite selfish” he said, and that one line caught your attention back.
“how fucking dare you patrick… you are un-fucking believable.” you spit back at him with tears stinging the waterline of your eyes. you continued, only fueled by the hurt settling in your chest. “i’m selfish? for wanting to be more then some fuck buddy you use to get off?” your words felt like daggers as his gaze dropped. “i’m selfish? for thinking we could be something real? for holding you to promises you have made?”
as you laid into him, your head was pounding, eyes burning, and your body just felt entirely weakened. this was all getting to you, and you just wanted to sink into some sort of comfort and be safe for the night.
“can't you see how bad you're hurting me?” you asked, almost desperately, as a tear finally fell from your eye; and you sat, collapsing down on your bed, giving into the exhaustion this fight had forced you into.
and just like that patrick was on you. his feet moved so swiftly you hardly noticed before he was kneeling right in front of you. his hand reached up to your cheek and held the side of your face, fingers hooking around to the back of your neck and stabilizing you.
“hey, hey, look at me… im right here. i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he pleaded with you. his rigid and cocky exterior cracking and falling immediately at the clear sign of you in pain. he was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your knees hanging off the bed. his free hand wrapped around the back of your calf, sweetly stroking it.
you grabbed at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, both pushing him away and pulling him in. even you weren't sure where or how close you wanted him. on one hand, he was the only person who you wanted comforting you right now. but on the other hand, he was the reason you were in this state in the first place.
“n-no, no youre not” you refuted with tears streaming profusely now. “you’re not sorry pat, you don't even ca-”
“y/n i'm in love with you” he cut you off before you could finish whatever you were trying to say. before you could continue thinking any longer that you werent the most important thing in his life. you were, and he knew that. and it scared him. he was never the type to fall in love, or to trust, or to be entirely vulnerable with someone. but you brought it out of him, and he was done running from that feeling.
your eyes met his, widening at his confession. you were staring at him, your mouth slightly agape as your fuzzy brain wrecked itself to try and wrap around what he had just said.
“you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. and i'm an idiot for letting you spend even a minute not knowing that” his hands settled around your waist, arms resting on the bed. his fingers lightly traced your lower back and lulled you ever so closer to him. “you have set every inch of my being on fire and i refuse to imagine living a day of my life without you. i’ve never been in love, and it terrifies me.. i’m scared of what i might do to ruin this, or how i might make you hate me. but i know now that i’m willing to risk it. i’m so ready to learn all the beautiful and messy aspects of true devotion with you. because you are worth it. god, y/n, you are worth fighting any amount of fear or pain for.” he finished, eyes welling with water himself now.
you stayed silent. you let every word he said soak into your skin, then your muscles, then your heart. gently, your hands raised, one resting in the crook of his neck, the other finding his curls. together they guided his face up and towards yours. He watched you so closely, as he let you move him into you. his lips quivered with longing as they inched closer to yours. a faint tearful sigh escaped his lips just as they latched onto yours.
his hands gripped you with the force of a man clinging to a life support, yet still with the gentleness of you being a delicate porcelain doll. the kiss held so much passion you thought you might both catch on fire. burning with love and the need for the other to feel how important they were. your tongues swirled together as if trying to get infinitely closer to the other. as you pulled away, both your cheeks stained with tears, patricks lips quirked up into a smile for the first time all night.
“you’re an asshole” you told him, gently pushing his shoulder and grinning dumbly at him. his eyes gleamed at you, so full of love, his pupils were blown out and everything. “why couldnt you just say that before we wasted all night arguing?” you asked, giggling and hooking your hands under his arms, tugging him lightly to join you on the bed.
“where’s the fun in that?” he quipped back sarcastically as he crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, pushing you on your back. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered, dazing at you, like you had never seen before. “i’m so sorry baby, i shouldn't have argued… let me make it up to you” he smirked as his head dipped down and planted a sweet but wet kiss on your neck.
as his head lifted and eyes locked back onto yours. you swallowed any fear left in your throat and returned his confession with how you truly felt about him. “i love you pat,” you told him. the words sounded so sweet he needed his lips back onto yours to taste them.
“i love you baby, so much” was the last thing he said before he kissed you again, this time with a new level of tenderness.
#guys i tried angst#kinda#i just need to fix him#please pat just ONE chance#challengers#patrick zweig#josh o'connor#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig fic#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig fanfic
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massaging wherever is sore with waking up to partner tracing divots in spine with remus lupin please 🙏 (plz have remus be giving the massage im just a bitch with a sore body 😭)
incredibly real. first ever remus lupin fic please be kind <3 | part of v's 1000 follower celebration
you feel skin against yours before anything else, warm fingers circling your skin. you wonder how long the small motions of his fingers have been keeping remus entertained. his attention, usually fickle, always seemed to be captivated by you.
remus's touch against your spine pauses as you stir, a change in your breathing giving you away. remus can't help his smile as your eyes flutter open to see him, long hair a mess on his head. you always wondered how it was possible, if there was some creature stopping by in the middle of the night to tangle his hair while he slept.
"good morning," remus hums against your skin.
"you woke me up."
"not on purpose."
you pull away from remus, giving him a look while he holds back a grin.
before remus can trap himself against you again, you turn out of his loose hold and stretch, groaning at the ache that has settled into your muscles. remus frowns as you wince - sleeping cuddled up against remus's chest was only ever comfortable until the morning.
remus's hands, never able to stay away from you for too long, find yours.
"it's just my shoulders. they're a bit sore." you shake your head dismissively, pulling yourself up. remus sits up alongside you, pulling your legs back into bed when you try swinging them over the edge.
"let me help?" remus's thumb swipes over your thigh gently, palm resting on your knee, eyes looking up at you in a way he knows you can't reject.
you nod once and remus disappears from your line of sight to sit behind you, hands gently coming up to your shoulders. you're thankful he can't see you now as heat rises to your face, trying to relax as remus begins massaging your shoulders.
"like that?" remus asks softly, pressing into your muscles with his thumbs.
"mhmm," you reply, not trusting your own voice to speak.
remus works diligently, using various methods to try and soothe your muscles, checking in with you to make sure he's not being too rough.
remus can't help swinging around to press a kiss on your cheek, raising an eyebrow at the temperature of your skin and you know you've been caught.
"am i flustering you?" remus all but laughs, a teasing tone in his voice.
you roll your eyes and scoff as remus tries to turn you around.
"get off!" you try to swat his arm but remus is used to this - he pins you easily, laughing now as he kisses all over your face to test his theory.
"bad news," remus grins cheekily, pressing his lips against the tip of your nose quickly. "i think you're in love with me, sweetheart."
"i don't think so," you counter. "you're the one who can't keep his hands off me."
remus considers this, the motioning of your head towards his hands currently attached to you. remus tilts his head and hums, letting go of you in favor of placing his hands on your face, still warm.
"you may be right about that," remus admits, running a thumb along your bottom lip. "but how could i?"
you can't help but be affected, both by remus's words and the swipes of his fingers. your patience wears thin and your mind remains greedy, pulling remus in for a kiss.
he's gentle with you, as he always is, kissing you as softly as he can, lips barely pressing against yours.
remus grins once you've pulled apart and your fingers instinctively push some strands of hair out of his face. he leans down, lips leaving kisses at the corner of your jaw.
"i told you!" remus whispers in a sing-songy tune, his breath tickling your skin. you laugh, pulling remus flush against you. before he can worry about hurting you your lips are on his again.
remus feels dizzy, senses so completely full of you. he's left breathless by the fervor with which you kissed him and, by god, you've left him speechless.
a teasing smile lays on your lips as remus pants to try and catch his breath, your fingers tracing patterns against the nape of his neck.
"something caught your tongue?
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#marauders#marauders x reader#andrew garfield x reader#v + remus#v writes#v's 1000 follower celebration
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l'amour de ma vie
Thought I was depressed or losing my mind My stomach upset almost all of the time But after I left, it was obvious why (oh), mm Because for you, you I was the love of your life, mm But you were not mine (but you were not mine)
𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Angst
𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst fest lmao, Bucky’s kinda a dick in this one (so for all the ppl who don’t like reading Bucky in a negative light, this isn’t for you babe. *I’m ppl), The reader is implied to be chubby/plus size, slight body insecurity, but I think reader girl bossed in this (maybe it’s just me), AGAIN THERE IS NO FLUFF HERE ABSOLUTELY NONE.
“You ruined me” You glared at him “You ruined me, Bucky Barnes” It’s been 2 weeks and 3 days since Bucky broke up with me. The audacity of that man. I don’t know where it went wrong. Was it when he started coming home late? Or when he started sleeping on the couch? There were too many instances to count. I guess the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he left his phone on the counter, Sharon’s contact notification glowed brightly. “We should stop this” God I thought for once I wasn’t an idiot, but once again my ego was shattered. That fucker told me he loved me, all of me. From my smile, to my curves, to my thighs. And yet he still went for miss perfect. “Baby–” The asshole spoke. “Baby? Seriously Barnes? Trying to soften me up? We’re SO past that!” I laugh incredulously. Fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “You promised me! You dick! You promised me! You said you looked past this–” gesturing to my body “I thought you saw me for me, Bucky!” He looked embarrassed. Good. “Baby, can we please not do it here?” He looked around the common room we were standing in. The place occupied by the team who were in awe and disbelief on what’s going on. This bitch “Oh! You’re embarassed? Good, let them see your shame for the lying, cheating piece of shit that you are!” Gasps are echoed throughout the room. The woman in question as well, finally, looking away in shame. Bucky looked helpless. The severity of the situation finally hitting him like a freight train. “Please, it was a mistake. Yes, I’m a huge asshole for hurting you. You have all the right. I love you. What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life and I’m sorry–” tears flowing freely from his eyes at this point “I’m so so sorry” The sight before you could’ve made you fold easily. Bucky on his knees, grovelling. Your Bucky who held you when your friends abandoned you. Your Bucky who drove you to McDonald’s at 3am to get nuggets. Your Bucky who dropped everything just to go home and take care of you at your lowest. For a second you thought that everything happening at the moment was just a bad dream. He would never hurt you… But he did. His cries snapped you back to reality. “I broke up with you because I was a coward, I thought I could fix myself and come back to your life a better man– I should’ve told you sooner” All I could do is stare at him, emotionless and numb. What does one even do in this situation? The (once) love of your life, who has hurt you beyond any comprehension is grovelling at your feet. Should I say something? Should I lash out at him? Should I make him get up? It was all becoming too much In the end, I just turned my heel and left. The echoes of his increasing sobs and pleas following me. Good.
𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This may or may not be based on real-life... Oops. The angst gods were coursing through me ngl. I haven't written in months so this is exciting. The depression is still there and thriving but I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I love :>. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, I get to write more Bucky stuff (I promise there will be more fluff. God knows this man deserves it). Anyway, hope y'all have a great day/night! xoxo
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: None yet!
#bucky barnes#buck barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader angst#bucky x reader angst#avengers x reader#avengers x reader angst#sharon carter#jesus i was in a mood#bucky forgive me#the fact this shit actually happens#i wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy
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Love Is Kind
Summary: When your father moved your family to Mandalore in an attempt to court the various clans on behalf of the Republic, you were obligated to go with him, even though you were in your twenties. You really should have known that you were brought along in the hopes that one of the warriors of Mandalore would pick you as their bride. Too bad for your father that you’ve always known your own mind.
Pairing: Jaster Mereel x F!Reader
Word Count: 1182
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, also Montross is a creep
Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach
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A/N: I'm in a Jaster mood and I'm making it all of your problems. Sorry, not sorry. Also, I'm not sure why but tumblr isn't letting me tag some of you. I'm sorry.
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“Good morning, Princess,”
You stifle your eye-roll with the ease of long practice when the familiar, and grating, voice of Montross reaches your ears. The shudder is a lot harder to hide, as his hand slides across your shoulders, but you manage it.
“Good morning, Montross,” You greet as you turn on your stool to regard the much larger man. “I wasn’t aware that you had returned to Mandalore.”
His smile makes your skin crawl, “Did you miss me?”
You smile and neatly side-step his question, “How was your mission?”
He drops onto the stool next to you, his arm still thrown over your shoulder, and he leans into your personal space. “It was amazing. I came face to face with a Jedi.” He boasts, “Killed him too.”
“Hm. Is that right?”
“Oh yeah. Wasn’t even a challenge.” He pushes his hand through his hair, in a movement that was probably supposed to be attractive, but really wasn’t.
You flash a close-mouthed smile, “If it wasn’t hard, Montross, then how can you know it was a Jedi?”
“He had a lightsaber.”
“Those aren’t Jedi specific,” You point out, “Anyone can use a lightsaber. Jedi just use them well.”
“Aw, come on, Princess. You don’t think I could do it?”
“I think if you came face-to-face with a Jedi, we’d be having a funeral right now.” You reply before you duck under his arm.
“Sometimes, Princess, you are so very Republic.”
“What can I say? I like Jedi.”
“You’re a Mandalorian now, sweetheart. You should start thinking like one.” Montross says as he leans a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat from his skin against yours.
“I think you’ll find that I’m not.”
“You will be when you marry me.”
At that, you turn to look at him. “Not even if you were the last man in the galaxy.” You really should be polite, but you’re done with him and you’re done being polite to him. So you flick your fingers in his direction, “Shoo fly, you’re bothering me.”
You’re aware, vaguely, of offense crossing his face, and you grimace as he stands up so sharply that his stool goes flying.
And then he leans over you, trapping you between the counter and his armor, “Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.” Montross warns.
You’re about to reply when another voice, a little deeper but much more welcome to your ears, interrupts, “Come on, verd. She said she’s not interested. This is just embarrassing.”
Montross straightens, “Jaster,” His lip curls, “If she’s not into me, she definitely won’t be into you.”
You turn on your stool again and catch Jaster’s eye, a real smile crossing your face as he winks at you. “I’m not so sure about that, Montross,” Jaster replies with a smug smirk.
You watch an ugly shade of red slide across Montross’ face, and then he stalks out of the restaurant. “He might actually try to hurt you one day, Jaster.” You warn.
“He can try.” Jaster picks up Montross’ abandoned stool, sets it back into place, and then slides it a little closer to you before he sits on it, twisting his body so that his armored knees are brushing against yours. “He didn’t hurt you?”
You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, your smile growing, “If he did, will you go defend my honor?”
“If you phrase it right,” Jaster replies with an answering grin, “I might do it even if he didn’t.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, “Are you sure you’re uninjured?” He asks, his voice soft and for your ears alone.
“I am.”
“I’m glad.” He closes his hand over yours, and keeps his gaze locked with yours, “Montross thinks you’re going to pick him. He feels entitled to your affection.”
“How sad for him,” You reply, your voice just as soft, “I have my eyes on someone else.”
“Oh? Do I know him?” Jaster teases.
You flip your hand and thread your fingers with his, “You might.”
His gaze drops to your joined hands, and then snaps back to your face, “Do you want to go for a walk?” Jaster asks, his gaze serious.
“Nothing would make me happier.”
He flashes a small smile and sets some credits on the counter to pay for your caf and cake, and then he gets to his feet and lightly tugs you to join him.
You, happily, press yourself against his side as you leave the restaurant together. Warmth runs down your spine as he lazily rubs circles on your hand with his thumb.
Whenever you’re with Jaster, you feel safe and warm. As though nothing in the galaxy can touch you so long as you’re with him.
It’s one of the many reasons that you love him.
And you do love him.
And, you’re pretty sure, he feels the same way.
Jaster leads you through the busy streets, only stopping when you reach a quiet area on the edge of the town. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by trees and flowers, and you can’t help but think that he could have brought you to an old warehouse, filled with broken droids, and it would still have been the most romantic thing ever.
He smiles at you and releases your hand, only so he’s able to lightly cup your face with his hands. Jaster tilts your head so you’re looking right at him, and his smile widens. “You know,” He murmurs, “In those old holofilms, where the male protagonist claims that his love interest is his whole world, they always sounded dramatic to me.”
You press your hands over his, “They’re supposed to be, I think.” You reply with a fond smile.
“Maybe so,” He slowly leans in and presses his forehead against yours, “But I really am holding my whole world in the palms of my hands.” Jaster sounds awed, as though he can’t believe what he’s feeling.
Your face burns with slightly flustered embarrassment and your heart swoops with excited joy, “Jaster—”
“I love you,” He whispers, and then a broad grin crosses his face, “I love you.”
You can’t help the delighted laugh that falls from your lips as you release his hands and fling your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a, slightly awkward, kiss.
Though it’s only awkward because he wasn’t expecting it.
Jaster’s arms wrap around you, holding you securely as he hovers his lips just over yours, “Does that mean you—?”
“I love you.” You breathe against his lips, “I love you, I love you, I love—” You’re not able to finish the phrase, as his lips seal over yours stealing your words and your breath.
You don’t mind. Both belong to him anyway.
Your parents aren’t going to be thrilled. Your stepmother had plans to marry you off to the son of an Alderaanian aristocrat. Your father would prefer that you pick a member from a larger clan than Clan Mereel.
But you’ve made your choice…and they’re just going to have to live with it.
#star wars#star wars legends#jaster mereel x reader#jaster x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic
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𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫?
A collection of my favorite lyrics from The Great Impersonator. Feel free to change as needed! Some of my favorites were too specific for roleplay so I did not add them. Namely from I Believe in Magic and Life of The Spider which are two of my favorite songs.
❛ Do you think they'd laugh at how I died? ❜
❛ I think I'm special 'cause I cut myself wide open as if it's honorable to bleed. ❜
❛ But I'm not lucky and I know I wasn’t chosen. ❜
❛ The world keeps spinnin' without me. ❜
❛ I wake up tired, think I'm better off dead. ❜
❛ I'm nervous what you'll think of me now. ❜
❛ I'm hoping that someone comes around and helps me figure it out. ❜
❛ I'm all grown up but somehow lately I'm acting like a fucking baby. ❜
❛ I'm really not as happy as I seem. ❜
❛ I'm still a little kid that can't make friends. ❜
❛ I wanna be invited, but I won't attend. ❜
❛ I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be pretty. ❜
❛ Nothing's as it seems. ❜
❛ I don't like the lie I'm living. ❜
❛ I'm way too nice and too forgiving. ❜
❛ It's all done now, who am I kidding? ❜
❛ I'm doing way worse than I'm admitting. ❜
❛ I'm really not that happy being me. ❜
❛ I'm trying to be positive. But oh, it's really hard. ❜
❛ I'm a loner, I'm a loser. ❜
❛ I'm on a real short leash, but I like it tight. ❜
❛ You know a mercy kill is what I seek. ❜
❛ I didn't ask to live, but dying's up to me. ❜
❛ Well, they say all dogs go to Heaven. Well, what about a bitch What about an evil girl left lying in a ditch? ❜
❛ Tell the three people who asked that I am in a better place. ❜
❛ 'Cause I'm not old, but I am tired. ❜
❛ I'm not strong, I'm very weak. ❜
❛ I have seen enough! I've seen it all! ❜
❛ I don't wanna hurt so get it over with quick. ❜
❛ Please, God, I wanna be loved. ❜
❛ I don't wanna be somebody that they wanna get rid of. ❜
❛ Every time you lean in closer, both my knees can't help but shake.❜
❛ I think you're a danger to my health, or so it seems. ❜
❛ Is it love or a panic attack? ❜
❛ Is a heavy heart too much to hold? ❜
❛ Because you make me fucking nervous and I don't know what it all means. ❜
❛ My spirit has been broken. ❜
❛ My optimism's getting sore. ❜
❛ I don't know if I can see you anymore. ❜
❛ I don't like to complain, but I'm saying sorry. ❜
❛ When I met you, I thought I was damaged goods. ❜
❛ If you knew it was the end of the world, would you like to stay a while? ❜
❛ Would you leave when it gets hard? ❜
❛ When I met you, I said I would never die. ❜
❛ The joke was always mine 'cause I'm racing against time. ❜
❛ Nothing good is free, but oh, it should be. ❜
❛ I still believe in Heaven, if they'll never let me in. ❜
❛ I think I might start tryin' because I haven't been. ❜
❛ Could all just be an answer to thosе prayers that came delayed? ❜
❛ Please, God, I don't wanna be sick. ❜
❛ I don't wanna be somebody that you're tryna get rid of. ❜
❛ There ain't a reason on this earth I'd go back to my hometown. ❜
❛ You know, I never felt like anyone, I was a paradoxal lie. ❜
❛ I didn't think that I was special, but I was too afraid to die. ❜
❛ I was trying to love you through an open wound 'cause everything I put inside there just fell right through. ❜
❛ If you only knew how bad it hurt me too. ❜
❛ You can rest your head down and not feel any shame. ❜
❛ I never loved you in vain. ❜
❛ You never listen and I'm terrible too. ❜
❛ If you stopped, I would've kissed you. ❜
❛ I almost thought I heard you call my name. ❜
❛ They say that God makes no mistakes, but I might disagree. ❜
❛ You all know something that I don't. ❜
Well, I was born all by myself It's not unlikely that I'll die that way as well. ❜
❛ I always knew I was a martyr. ❜
❛ I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew. ❜
❛ I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you. ❜
❛ So where do I go in the process when I'm just an apparatus? ❜
❛ I'm reduced to just a body here in someone else's bed. ❜
❛ When you're done, you can discard me like the others always do. ❜
❛ Your human starter kit came incomplete. ❜
❛ Fool me twice, the shame is on me. ❜
❛ Am I a victim in your game? ❜
❛ Can I take the blame for everything you hate? ❜
❛ The punishment and crime are not the same. ❜
❛ Somebody will love me for the way that I'm designed. ❜
❛ You smothered out the glow I grew for you, but it was mine too. ❜
❛ Have you ever been broken and thrown down? ❜
❛ Have you ever given the world to somebody as a gift and had it returned? ❜
❛ Did you know the father's DNA stays inside the mother for seven years? ❜
❛ Have you ever woken from a dream just to realize that you're still asleep? ❜
❛ Do you ever wish you were still asleep? ❜
❛ Do you ever wish you wouldn't wake up? ❜
I'm only small, I'm only weak.
❛ God, how could I even think of daring to exist? Looking just like this, I'm hideous.
❛ I worked real hard on the last one but the last one got me here. ❜
❛ I'm minding my own business but my presence makes you curse. ❜
❛ I should be getting better but I'm only getting worse. ❜
❛ And, God, how dare I even think of choosing here to die? 'Cause then, I'm just a problem that you have to take outside. ❜
❛ I know you hate the sight of me, I haunt you when you're fast asleep. ❜
❛ If only I had eight more lives. ❜
❛ You don't like it when I cry. ❜
❛ You would break me if you tried. And you will because I dared to be alive. ❜
❛ I'll never be like him. ❜
❛ You know my father isn't dead, but it don't feel like he's still here. ❜
❛ And my eyes tell me that he's harmless despite what my heart has to say. ❜
❛ So maybe just forget. Maybe move on, don't regret. ❜
❛ Or maybe this is just another trick that hasn't happened yet. ❜
❛ I thought that it was my fault and now sometimes I still do. ❜
❛ I can't bear to fake a smile when you walk into the room. ❜
❛ Everybody, get in line to meet the girl who flew too high. ❜
❛ Did it all to be included, my self-loathing so deep-rooted. ❜
❛ When I die, I won't have time to spend my money. ❜
❛ But I hope that you still love me. ❜
❛ A problem child, I was rough. But what do you do with a difficult grownup? ❜
❛ I thought I changed so much, nobody would notice it, and no one did. ❜
❛ I told everybody I was fine for a whole damn year. ❜
❛ Please, God, or whoever you are. ❜
❛ These days I get less calls 'cause no one wants to hear my voice. ❜
❛ I miss the days when I was gettin' texts that I could just avoid. ❜
❛ I don't ever wanna leave him, but I don't think it's my choice. ❜
❛ I don't think my pleas are heard because I'm screaming in the void. ❜
❛ Please, God, oh, you've gotta be sick. ❜
❛ Why do you make it hurt, and why's it over so quick? ❜
❛ Please, God, I'm finally loved. I finally found somebody I don't wanna get rid of. ❜
❛ You took a little while to respond to my prayer. ❜
❛ Please, God, no, this doesn't seem fair. ❜
❛ I'm tryin' not to show it, but I'm terribly scared. ❜
❛ They don't know I'm lonely. ❜
❛ They don't know I'm kind. ❜
❛ Does a story die with its narrator? ❜
❛ This is a cry for help, callin' for assistance. ❜
❛ What happened to the girl I knew? ❜
❛ I think I've been awake for days but it's so much fun. ❜
❛ I took another dose but I don't think it's micro. ❜
❛ Can't you see that I'm an imposter? ❜
❛ Where's the fun in doing well? ❜
❛ The good girls never kiss and tell. ❜
❛ I don't belong here, how 'bout you? ❜
❛ I still get punished for good deeds. ❜
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Limits (Don’t Forget to Take Your Meds)
Hero and Villain were fighting on top of a building, and—admittedly—Hero wasn’t doing so hot.
Their heart was beating too fast, and they wanted nothing more than to sink to their knees right there on the rooftop. They were breathing hard but it wasn’t enough, their heart kept picking up speed and the oxygen didn’t seem to be reaching their head.
They blocked clumsily and Villain stepped back, flicking his wrist in a circular motion in an attempt to show off.
The display was lost on Hero, however, because Villain’s sword was no longer the only thing on the roof that was spinning. Hastily, they caught themselves before almost stumbling.
They tried to keep it from showing on their face, but somewhere in the past few seconds they must have failed because Villain stopped and let his weapon arm fall to his side.
“Hero?” He questioned.
Hero pressed their lips together, too scared to open their mouth in fear of the nausea that was swimming over them. They blinked, and he was closer, hand coming up to press against the pulse point of their wrist.
He shook his head at the rapid pounding he felt beneath their skin.
“Did you take your meds today?”
If Hero didn’t know better, his question would almost seem to hold the same condescension of a parent scolding a child who obviously hadn’t taken the time to think through their actions before getting upset.
“Of course I- oh.”
Hero visibly deflated.
“You really need to set an alarm or something,” Villain scolded.
“I have one!” Hero spoke defensively, “It’s just…I woke up and my cat was yelling and I had to get up and feed her but I just felt so bad-”
“Go home, Hero.”
Hero fumbled, “Seriously? I can’t just-”
“Yes, you can,” Villain interrupted. “In fact, I won’t allow you to do anything else.”
“No, no it’s fine,” Hero tried to argue, “I can-“
Push through, they didn’t get to finish.
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Surely you know this isn’t safe,” he leveled them with a look the hero wasn’t clear-headed enough to feel the full effect of.
His next statement was threatening, and Hero found themselves taken aback.
“Do you really want to flare?”
They couldn’t stop their lips from parting in surprise.
No one had ever understood like that, never told them they needed and were allowed to rest, aggressively or otherwise.
He made it sound so…simple.
Hero thought of the consequences of trying to fight Villain right now. There simply wasn’t enough ibuprofen in the world to make up for the symptoms that would follow. They really didn’t want to end up stuck in bed for days, not when there were plenty of less courteous villains that could decide to destroy the city at any time.
Their shoulders sagged in defeat. They knew what they needed to do but…
But it hurt, accepting their limits. They supposed that was their heroic pride talking, but part of them knew it was more than that.
It was shame, and it was anger. Anger that they were trapped in a body that couldn’t keep up with them. Shame because resting felt like giving up.
They followed the villain’s lead, laying down their weapon with shaking hands.
They were, as many people were, always told, “a real hero never gives up.”
A real hero, they thought now, knows how to pick their battles.
And they knew a fight with their body would never be one they could win.
#chronically ill hero#hero/villain snippet#hero/villain#hero#villain#heroes and villains#chronic illness#this post brought to you by#atenolol my beloved#it’s ok to rest#you deserve to take care of yourself#there’s nothing shameful about it
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rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day seven home ✷.⁺⋆˚₊
fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | drabble | word count: 661.
Home had been a shining city on the far horizon for most of Rocket’s formative years: distant and gleaming under an impossible blossom-blue dome. Unreachable. Untouchable. He’d left any hope of it behind, a dozen cannon-shots or more before he’d ever even stepped foot off the Arête. No. Rocket had gone straight from the cages and right into his escape pod, out into a sky that had suddenly seemed much less beautiful and much more forever.
And so home had always been a far-away thing, a thing he could never go back to, a thing that — like love, like peace, like a restful night’s sleep or body that didn’t hurt — Rocket could simply never have. A thing that hadn’t been meant for him. Like the screws slowly grinding away at his bones or the muscle contractures he’s always fighting in his hips and chest, home had just become another old ache that he’d grown to barely notice, except when he’s on a planet where the weather is bad.
And then, one shift — when it was just you and him — he’d been trying to work the knots out of his shoulders. You’d reached out with dancing fingers and a query on your lips — a gentle little sound of offering — and he’d gone as still as a moon pinned between two gravity wells. Your fingers had felt light as little birds, perched on his shoulders weightlessly, and you’d guided them into a rolling series of rotations. Then you’d tugged him between your knees, and kneaded every small stone you’d found lodged under his skin and fur.
When he’d finally gone as molten and buttery as a beeswax candle on a warm day, you’d murmured another little question. He’d blinked at you blankly — completely disconnected from anything but the feel of his body, pliant for the first time in possibly his entire life — so you’d pulled him onto your lap and continued your little ministry of touch until he’d fully curled up, his tail a wreath of feathery brushes around you both. His back had pressed itself into your hands as you’d worked your thumbs into the base of his spine: freeing the tension from his hips, beckoning it out of muscle and bone, letting it dissipate into the air between your fingertips. Your hands had been so warm that even all the metal plates and bolts deep inside had suddenly felt like a part of him — had suddenly matched his own body temperature — every piece slotting together inside him with a rightness he’d never known before. The air in his lungs had turned into little pearls and gemstones, spilling up into his throat like jeweled gravel. He’d made a noise — some kind of rumble — and it had startled him until your hands had soothed over him again and you’d whispered something that had sounded like you’re just purring.
He’d never say any of this in front of the others, never let them know about this: about how soft he is for this, for the warm quiet circle of space in your arms and on your thighs. He’d never climb into your lap like this if they could see it; never make a nest out of your body-heat and burrow into the loose thick folds of your sweatshirt. He only does it on the shifts when everyone else is asleep, or planetside, or away.
It’s not that he’s ashamed. It’s just — this is something special and precious and small, and if he looks at it too closely or acknowledges it exists, he may never have it back. But for now — for these moments that he can only measure in the soft wash of his breath or the thrum of his pulse in his wrists, the steady sound of your heartbeat holding him together like gravity — for now, it’s touchable, and attainable, and real —
Moreso than any shining city on the far horizon, glimmering against the sweep of a blossom-blue ocean and a forever sky.
i did it! i brought my wordcount down! this was just a fun little exercise in writing whatever weird shit came to my mind so sorry if it makes no sense but i figured i'd indulge my inclination toward purple prose (get rekt literary critics). anyway this was fun and i am very much in favor of many future rocket raccoon prompts & prompt weeks, and thank you for creating this and bringing it to my attention, @frostedwitch ♡♡♡
i will be putting out a masterlist for this set of prompts sometime next week probably. i really hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing! ♡
day six. bite rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list
taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips
#rocketraccoonpromptweek#rfh fluff#rocket raccoon#guardians of the galaxy#rocket raccoon fanfiction#gotg fanfiction#rfh fanfic#gotg rocket#rocketraccoon#rocket gotg#drabbles#rocket raccoon x you#rocket x you#x reader#reader insert#gn reader#rocket racoon x reader#rocket x reader#gotg rocket x reader#gotg x reader#guardians of the galaxy fanfiction
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Other Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three (short version) and Part Three (long version).
You were awoken by Feather rushing down the stairs holding a glowing rectangle that you realised was a screen. "President Snow is inviting everyone to his palace! He's demanded it! Everyone will be on the street in minutes". Finnick nodded "it's a ploy to get us all out into the open, we can't go". "Well the rest of us have to" Feather said "but you two can stay here, maybe you can escape while everyone else is heading towards the mansion. Finnick didn't like those odds but nodded "yeah thanks Feather, we'll get ready and work out our next step". Feather nodded and tilted Finnick's face upwards as if inspecting him. You stiffened but it seemed to be an oddly sentimental act. "Good luck, I hope I never have to see you again" and he disappeared back up the stairs.
Finnick was right, there was no way you were moving on that leg today. Even swinging your leg hurt and your ankle couldn't have any weight on it. It was a good job you'd slept in warm trousers because there was no way you'd have been able to get any trouser leg over that ankle. "It's okay" Finnick told you "we'll work something out". He carried all your gear upstairs and then came back to carry you. He lifted you effortlessly and as always you were amazed how strong he was. "My ankle has its own heartbeat but you're really taking my mind off that" you said patting his chest and Finnick laughed "how?". "Duh with your beautiful body!" you said and Finnick put you down and then smiled at you "well it's all yours and if we survive today and get back home you can do whatever you want with it". You liked the sound of that but given whose home you were in that wording didn't feel quite right so you shook your head. "Whatever you want me to do with it, it's beautiful but it's yours Finnick and nobody ever gets to buy it again". Finnick blinked at your sudden seriousness and then smiled bashfully "thanks Y/n". You patted his cheek "no problem, now piggyback time!". Finnick turned so you could climb on when suddenly all the screens in the house lit up to tell you the rebels had won. President Snow had been de-throned.
You and Finnick wandered the streets like the other capitol residents in utter shock and not quite believing it was true...then you saw the rebel planes overhead and you grinned. "Finnick it's true! It's real! We won!". Finnick laughed and cheered loudly. You climbed off his back and settled onto one leg so you could hug him.
You carried on moving through the streets until eventually, you found an airship. Finnick knocked on the door and after your whole day of bad luck yesterday, you were due some good luck. "Finnick? Y/n?" a voice rang out and you saw Cressida appear from the side of the ship. "You're alive?" she asked and you grinned "hell yeah! You really thought you could abandon us and get away with it" and she rushed to hug you. Pollux appeared and gave you both a bright smile before joining in with the hugging. You were so happy you were saved you didn't even mind. Hugs for everyone!
Once they got on you the ship they began assessing your injuries. "Y/n's really damaged her knees, she's sprained her ankle or worse and her hip is really banged up too. Oh and she got electrocuted yesterday and her hands should probably be checked over too". "Finnick got electrocuted too! He has a dozen cuts all over his arms and body, his foot looks odd and he dislocated his shoulder and thought I didn't notice as he popped it back in" you said and Finnick looked at you. You stared back "what if you're going to tell on me I'll snitch back". Finnick just grinned shaking his head "we survived and we're going to live, that's all I care about" and he rested his head against yours. You didn't let go of your joint hands the whole way home...or you wouldn't have if you hadn't fainted minutes before you got into District 13.
When you woke up you noticed how heavy your head felt, you tried to move your hands to see if there was something attached to it weighing it down but your hands felt heavy too. Then your ears seemed to kick in and you realised people were shouting.
"I'm her sister! Blood matters more!". "No it doesn't! I'm her boyfriend, that's more than enough!".
You quickly realised it was Johanna and Finnick.
"Ow what so you matter more because romantic relationships are superior to everything else?" your sister yelled. "No of course not but I love her and we nearly died for each other!" Finnick responded. "Well I love her too and would've done the same for her!" Johanna said and you groaned. "God can the two of you fight over who loves me the most more quietly" and they both rushed over to you.
You quickly realised what they'd been arguing about as their shoulders knocked as they both tried to take the closest place next to you. "How are you feeling? Johanna asked and you frowned "strange, what happened?" and you looked to Finnick. He sighed "it was my fault, your injuries were worse than expected and there was a bite on your arm that needed stitches. The doctors think the blood loss mixed with everything you went through has thoroughly drained you so you might feel a little lifeless for a few days". "I'm sure I'll be fine after a good meal" you shrugged and tried to sit up before going pale at the effort. "Y/n hold on!" Finnick said and he helped you sit up, he moved you easily as if you were a doll and you felt as limp as one. It scared you a little and Finnick noticed. He took your hand and gave you a reassuring smile "hey don't worry, you're fine okay? Johanna and I are going to be here every day until you get better". Johanna took your other hand "we're not going anywhere, nurse Johanna is at the ready". That made you laugh and the two called a temporary truce seeing the sight they'd been hoping for.
"How are you?" you asked Finnick. You lifted your hand to his face with a frown as he had a lot of bruising there and around his neck. "Oh don't worry about me I'm fine" he smiled and you looked to Johanna for the truth. "He was in pretty bad shape too and has only been properly back on his feet since yesterday". Johanna went to say more but Finnick cut her off "I'll tell you it all later but for now...I just want to hear you speak" he smiled brushing some hair away from your face. You smiled "well all I want is to kiss you" and Finnick happily obliged (as Johanna rushed away, cursing you both). "We made it" you whispered happily and Finnick kissed your forehead "we sure did baby".
You spent all day with either Finnick or Johanna by your side and honestly, you couldn't be happier. They filled you in on what the world outside was doing but you didn't really care. Finnick talked about the plans he'd made to take you back to his district and to the beach house you'd discussed. "I know we didn't really properly sit down and think about it so I totally get if you don't actually want to live on the beach with me, we can work something else out" he said but you threw a tissue at him to get his attention. "I want the beach house with you Finnick. I want to come to your district with you" and his smile was like a warm sunrise on a summer's day.
It was lucky you had such nice memories because recovery was hard. Practically every part of your body ached and it was like you were having to learn how to do everything again for the first time. You couldn't sit up by yourself until the 3rd day and couldn't walk at all until a week later and even then you relied heavily on holding onto Finnick. The doctors steadily increased your food as they didn't want to suddenly rush your body with energy and fats so the progress was slow but steady. At times you felt so useless, like when you had to get Finnick to take you to the toilet or Johanna to help dress you. Neither of them minded of course but you struggled. When you were finally well enough to take a bath Finnick wanted to accompany you but that was just too much.
Finnick had gotten you into the tub but when you heard him coming to help you out, you practically threw yourself out and then couldn't get up again. When Finnick found you on the floor he was terrified. "Y/n are you okay? Why didn't you wait for me?". You pushed his kindness away just trying desperately to cover all of yourself with your towel. "Here let me help you" Finnick said but you pushed his hands away "no let me do it". "But I want to help you" Finnick said and you shook your head "I don't want you to". "Why?" he asked and you sighed tears forming "because I don't look good okay! My body is a wreck! I've lost so much weight, all my muscle is depleted and I look like a skeleton. There are ugly bruises all over me, scarring too and I look misshapen and swollen from being in a bed all the time. You can't see me naked until I've had a chance to work out and get back into shape". "Y/n you don't have to do anything to get your body ready for me to see it" Finnick said "I love you no matter how you look". "No you don't, you're just saying that to be nice" you said annoyed but Finnick didn't back down.
"I'm not being nice. I thought we were going to die so many times and then just when I thought we were safe you collapsed in my arms and I thought I'd lost you. The moment the doctor told me you were alive and breathing was the happiest moment of my life. It beat winning my own Hunger Games, the ending of the war, even falling in love with you so I don't care what you look like so long as you're here and healthy I will love every inch of you". "You're so soppy, you know that?" you asked him wiping away a tear and Finnick smiled. He picked you up and carried you back to your room in his arms. "I love you too" he told you and you chuckled, pleased he could translate angry moody Mason into plain English. He really was perfect for you.
After that, you didn't feel shy around Finnick anymore but you realised he was hiding things from you and that he wasn't as recovered as he said he was.
While you were sleeping one night he started shaking violently. You figured he was having a bad dream but he woke up with a yell and was panting as his hands shook and his fingers bent inwards at awkward angles, seemingly of their own volition. When it stopped, he collapsed against the bed, his forehead gleaming and you grabbed his arm "Finnick are you okay? I'm getting a doctor" and you rushed to do so but he grabbed you. "Y/n don't, they already know and I'm fine it's just one of the after-effects of the electric shock we got. My hands keep spasming and I struggle to grip things a little but Beetee thinks it should fade with time and if not I can do some physiotherapy to help". You frowned "is it painful?". From the grimace on his face you could tell the answer but he didn't want you to worry. "It's fine" he shrugged "just a little annoying at times, I just really hope it isn't permanent". You nodded feeling that deeply, if your hands were ruined you wouldn't be able to fight with an axe or defend yourself anymore. You'd feel so vulnerable and scared so you beckonned Finnick closer and hugged him. "Don't worry, your hands will get better and until then I'll cover for you. You can be my legs and I'll be your hands". Finnick chuckled "the perfect tag-team huh? Thanks Y/n" and wrapped in your arms, he didn't have any more spasms that night.
9 days after the end of the war you got a visitor and she wasted no time apologising for what she thought she'd done wrong. "I'm sorry we left you" Katniss said "down in the tunnels...you were just so far away I didn't think we could do anything for you" she told Finnick before turning to you "and I thought you went to go die with him" Katniss admitted. You nodded "well part of me did, we had a deal you see...but there's no hard feelings. Finnick and I did take off pretty quickly when those things first appeared". You shivered even just thinking about them and Finnick squeezed your hand. "We all just got to instinct at those moments and that's all you did" you said giving Katniss a small smile. She returned it but you could tell she wasn't feeling it. "I'm really sorry Katniss" you said and she didn't have to ask about what. "You don't have to say anything back" you told her "just know, we're here if you need anything" you said gesturing to Finnick and he nodded "any time".
You and Finnick were invited to President Snow's execution but neither of you wanted to go. You were now well enough to start making moves to District 4 so you and Finnick declined and planned your move. When President Coin heard your plans she called a meeting of all the victors in District 13 and told you her plans. You and Finncik were outraged at the idea of another Hungers Game and voted no immediately along with Peeta, Annie and Beetee. You managed to outnumber Johanna Katniss, Haymitch and Enobaria who voted yes. Coin relented there would be no hunger games but that Katniss could execute Snow. You and Finnick still had no interest in that and left 2 days later. You arrived in District 5 on the day of the execution and were preparing for the last part of your journey when you learned Katniss had killed Coin instead and everything was in chaos. The train was stopped and the captain asked what you wanted to do, go on to District 4 or head to the Capitol instead. Finnick did not take the news well.
"Why do I feel like we're never going to escape?" Finnick asked you, spiraling as his panic took over. "Every time we try to leave it's going to pull us back? There's no escape! Even now, even after it's all over they still find a way to drag us back. It never ends!". You shook your head and cupped his face "then screw it all! We don't play their game, we carry on as planned and let them work it out for themselves. We nearly sacrificed our lives for this and have done our time, we're finished and now it's our time". "We can do that?" Finnick asked and then he saw the look on your face. Finnick blinked and smiled. "Captain" he called "onto District 4 people, we're going home".
Later
You took to the beach life surprisingly well for a forest girl from District 7 and thank god you didn't burn in the sun because that would've been awkward.
When you and Finnick first got to District 4 you only had a shack on the beach but you actually didn't mind. Finnick had bought a plot of land away from the town so it could be just the two of you as promised and it was heaven. You had no idea what was going on in the world and neither of you cared. You spent each day wrapped up in one another and felt like you got to fall in love with him all over again.
After 2 months of bliss, you decided to start making a proper home, so you built a house! You had some knowledge of this being from a lumber district but Finnick really was popular and it felt like the entire population of District 4 came to help.
A year later you had your house on the beach. It was nothing grand like your Victor houses but you loved it and you loved Finnick. You'd worried after the excitement of war, when you settled into normalcy things between you would fizzle out but they didn't. It was Finnick Odair to be fair, things were never boring with him around and he always kept you occupied.
When he learned you weren't a super strong swimmer he made it his mission to teach you. Then he moved on to surfing and sailing and basically anything water-related. He was literally in his element in the water and you loved how happy he looked. His hands still sometimes bothered him and your hip had never quite fully recovered. Not to mention both of you still woke up with nightmares but you'd escaped and most importantly, you'd escaped together, Your life was the closest thing to heaven that existed as far as you were concerned.
About 2 years into your new life President Paylour contacted you and Finnick. They were prosecuting the members of the capitol who had abused the victors when they left the games and of course, the main Vicor they wanted to speak to was Finnick. You told him he didn't have to do anything, if he didn't want to re-live those memories and just wanted to move on then that was okay but he chose to see them put to justice. The second Finnick said that, you were all in recalling your promise to get justice for him.
You went to the capitol first, alone, to see what was required of Finnick and what the process would be. First, they needed an interview, where Finnick described key people and what they had done to him. You were of course there for his interview, holding his hand the entire time and telling them it was over when it was clear Finnick was done. He couldn't remember all the names but Feather had submitted his "little black book" voluntarily when he was arrested. All Finnick had to do was confirm the names. There were over 100 names in that book and Finnick said yes to most of them. It made you feel sick all over again but you sat up straight and kept your focus on Finnick. You held him extra closely that night and comforted him as he cried himself to sleep.
Months later there was a trial and they wanted Finnick to testify live. You objected to that strongly and vetoed it immediately. You'd seen the effect just the interview had on Finnick and weren't going to give the Capitol one last show. Instead, Finnick recorded some responses in the comfort of your own home and they projected them live.
You attended the trial as a witness to what the experience had done to Finnick as did some of the other Victors. It wasn't too hard preparing for the trial as you thought it might be. Sure it was tiresome and taxing but all you had to do was look at the people who had hurt Finnick and your motivation sprang back up. You gave your testimony with a perfect balance of emotion and composure. You looked those criminals in the eye when you told the judge you thought the highest punishment possible would be the only justice and cheered the loudest when it was passed. You were there when the sentences were carried out and then returned home to confirm for Finnick it was done. "Are they...is it done?" he asked. You nodded "the people who hurt you are gone, they can't do anything to anyone anymore" and you saw the weight melt off his shoulders. It took a few weeks for it to sink in permanently but finally, it clicked and Finnick was finally freed. You bought a puppy the week after, figuring Finnick needed an adorable distraction.
3 years later you and Finnick were still finding new things to do and were still as attracted to one another as ever. You were currently on the beach in the middle of the night because of Finnick. It didn't rain here often but it had tonight that made Finnick really excited! He demanded you both go out for a swim in the rain and you were going to protest that you'd get wet but realised that was the point. It was actually really nice to swim in the rain and you loved how only Finnick could get you to do these stupid things.
As you laid on the sand afterwards, you admired Finnick in the moonlight. You still thought he was the most beautiful man in the whole world and had quickly realised Finnick also suited the wet look very well. You had a sneaking suspicion that's why Finnick enjoyed getting you in the water with him so much but you didn't care. Shirtless or with a wet top plastered against his chest, he looked amazing every time and most of your swimming trips ended with the two of you pressed up against the sand together.
Tonight was exactly the same. Finnick saw the way you were looking at him and needed no more encouragement. He smelled and tasted like sea salt and
it had become your favourite taste over the years because of Finnick. Once the two of you had thoroughly tired yourselves out, you lay against the golden sand and just babbled in a happy exhausted manner.
"You know I think water boy suits you better than pitchfork boy or maybe seaweed boy?" you asked thinking about that time he went diving and came with tons of seaweed when you'd been expecting pearls. Finnick smirked "seaweed boy? I think I hate that more than pitch-fork boy". You smiled "wow that's extreme but yeah it doesn't quite suit you. Plus I think it's already taken". You couldn't remember who by but could've sworn you'd ready an old myth about a seaweed boy or was it a seaweed brain?
"So are you excited for tomorrow?" Finnick asked leaning over to you and you blinked "tomorrow?". After what Finnick had been doing you couldn't even remember what day today was. Finnick laughed "yeah tomorrow or I guess it's later today now, when your sister and all the other tributes are coming to visit?" he asked "and Katniss and Peeta are bringing little Prim for the first time...remember?". You smiled "it's ringing a bell, it'll be nice to see them. We haven't all been together like this since..." and you trailed off remembering. "When Coin asked us to go another Hunger Games" Finnick nodded "well this time, let's hope the topic won't be so depressing".
A lot had happened to the victors in the 5 years since President Snow had fallen but the districts all appointed new leaders and things were relatively stable. Annie had become mayor of District 4 which was mainly an honorary position for being a victor rather than an acting role but she loved her district and the people loved her too. Weirdly she'd become a friend to you and Finnick, you now smiled when you saw her and called out greetings to her in town.
Your sister Johanna was still in District 7, she'd been offered the honorary position too but declined of course. She never wanted the show and dance and instead got an ordinary position, helping organise and process trade operations. She didn't leave District 7 tons but had been spending more and more time with District 2's Ebobaria. She said they didn't want to label anything but you knew she was happy.
Seeing as all the tributes were pairing up, Haymitch claimed there must be something to it and said he should try his luck with Beetee but even as a joke, Beetee gave the man a sharp electric shock as a detterance. Luckily he just confessed his feelings to Effie instead. They were due to be married in the next Autumn and everyone was invited, hideous outfits a must of course.
Beetee was instrumental in coordinating all the districts and was now president of technological communications, aka he ran everything. It was what he deserved and he seemed happy so you all were too.
Katniss and Peeta were of course loved up, they married 2 years ago and their daughter whom they named Prim followed a year later. All of the victors had pretty much stepped away from the capitol and the new Panem to live out their lives quietly and so far nobody had tried to reap you for another games. So far, the new Panem was peaceful...well not too peaceful because it still had your sister Johanna in it.
"Oh yeah she never visits me anymore!" Johanna said "Finnick stole her away and never gave her back". Finnick shrugged "hey I don't have any restraints on her, she didn't want to be given back because she loved me and District 4 so much more than you!". Which led Johanna to argue you'd always be District 7 and the two bickered while you all watched happily. Your two favourite people were also the stupidest people ever and you loved that.
The argument eventually got physical and when you were coming back with a drink Johanna decided to stake her claim. "Mine!" Johanna cried jumping on your back and Finnick immediately jumped up. "Joahnna be careful...the baby!" Finnick called and everyone froze. Johanna shot away from like you were on fire and all the victors stared waiting for more. In response, you and Finnick looked at one another and then just burst out laughing.
"That was good babe" you called to Finnick and sank beside him. "I know" he smiled wrapping an arm around you and when you'd both stopped laughing you explained. "I'm not pregnant but you should see all your faces!". The group all groaned and Johanna hit you for lying. "Are you considering it though?" Peeta asked "starting a family?". You and Finnick looked at each other and shrugged "I'm not sure, babies were never something that appealed to me but then again I never thought I'd see the Mockingjay being a doting mother" you said nodding to Katniss who had little Prim in her arms. Katniss smiled "yeah me either, anything can change". Finnick nodded "exactly which is why we're not saying no definitely not but it's not on the top of our to-do list". You nodded leaning into his arm "I'm happy as we are right now, the dog and the beach are all I need....ow and Finnick of course" you said and they all laughed at your slip-up. "Afterthought huh? The man you love?" Finnick asked and you smiled because it felt nice to say you loved Finnick and really mean it. "The man I love" you repeated and you said it so sweetly Finnick couldn't even pretend to be mad at you.
"Do you want to be a father?" you asked Finnick as you lay in bed that night and he blinked thinking. "I don't know, I do quite like kids but I think after all we've been through I'd be terrified they were going to be reaped. That the Capitol would come back and punish us again". You nodded patting his arm "I think you'd be an amazing dad". Finnick looked at you in surprise "really?". You nodded "of course! Everyone loves you, you're kind, funny, beautiful...". "Stop it!" Finnick said pushing you and pretending to gush. "I can actually imagine you with a baby" you continued and Finnick paused. "I can see you sat with a little bundle on our porch, teaching them how to take their first steps on the sand, holding them in your arms in the ocean, reading them stories at night..." you said "I can picture it all". Finnick smiled and leaned over to you so he was hovering on top of you "well you know I can very easily make that a reality for you and I can make you enjoy every second of it". That of course sent shivers down your spine and you looked up at those beautiful blue eyes and wanted to just melt but you were a Mason, you were mischeaveous. "I think I might need some proof of that first, a taster if you will" you said and Finnick nodded "that is totally understandable, let me get to work".
Everyone left the next morning, after complaining about some weird noises echoing around the house in the middle of the night. You and Finnick made no apologies and saw everyone off with big smiles. As you watched hem go, all smiling, rested and happy you realised this would've been unthinkable just 6 years ago. If you went back in time and even tried to explain to your younger self just how good her future was going to be she would've laughed in your face and you wouldn't blame her! Your life with Finnick almost made everything you'd been through worth it and every day you were thankful you'd fought so hard to stay alive, just so you could be here. And the best news?
Your future with Finnick was only just getting started.
I only realised after I wrote this that Finnick and Y/n tried to ditch the group and then were the ones that got left behind lol.
Also, I'm a huge Percy Jackson fan and anytime Finnick used a trident or spear it made me imagine him as a son of Poseidon and I love that. Maybe I should headcanon the main characters as demigods or something...not long until the new TV show now and I AM SO EXCITED!
But back to Finnick. He's amazing and deserved so much better. So let's all just pretend he got to live on a beach with the love of his life yeah?
#finnick#finnick fanfic#finnick imagine#finnick odair#finnick x female reader#finnick x reader#finnick x y/n#finnick x you#hunger games fic#hunger games finnick#thg imagine#thg finnick#thg fic#thg fanfiction#hunger games finnick odair#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#johanna mason
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TENSIONS RISE
Eli “Weevil” Navarro x F!Reader (Felix Toombs sister reader) // Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: Tensions rise between Weevil and you.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Angsty. Not too much of a happy ending, but not a bad one either. Lies, secrets, tension, hurt/comfort. Secret love. Slow burn.
A/N: First time writing for Veronica Mars! Been rewatching and while I’m an AVID LoVe shipper, during my rewatch I just seriously have my heart strings pulling for Weevil. Pulled this idea for this fic from this prompt list, I changed the dialogue juuuuust slightly to make it sound more Eli-ish.
“You talkin’ to nature or some shit?”
Without bothering to turn around you chuckled slightly and answered him. "Yeah. It says fuck you in particular."
“Ooof, cold.” He was sitting down on the stairs next to you as you stared out into the backyard. “Nature got a reason to be so angry? Or is there just a chill in the wind?”
As you turned to look over at him, you expected to see his eyebrows raised and annoyance on his face, but despite his snarky comments, his face was soft and begging for forgiveness.
“You know I just want the best for you right?” You matched his face.
Weevil looked away immediately, not wanting to look in your eyes when you said that or when he answered. “I know.” He nodded a couple times before letting his head hang down as he rested his arms on his knees.
“So you really talkin’ to nature?” He changed the topic, he thought it’d lighten the mood, you could tell by how he adjusted himself. He was leaning back, his elbows now on the top step.
“No, Weevil. I’m not really talkin’ to nature.” A sigh left your breath. “But sometimes I feel like it’s talking to me.”
“I leave for 3 days and you go crazy.” It was spoken through a chuckle.
You smiled at that. “Gotta find some way to pass the time until you come back.”
“What does nature tell you?” He figured he’d entertain what you were saying.
“It tells me that we’re made for more than this.”
_______
“So you’re hangin’ out with 09ers now?” Weevil’s voice was angry as he towered over you. Slamming your bottom locker shut, you stood up, frustration started to make it’s way through your veins.
“Excuse me?” You turned your body to start walking through the halls hoping that whatever Weevil was getting at would die down as you travelled to your next class.
“Felix saw you, at some party on the beach, an 09er party.” His voice didn’t change, if anything it was louder since he was following behind you now.
“So now my brother is bringing his family problems to the PCH MC? Real stand up guy my brother is. Don’t worry prez, I’ll handle it with Felix.”
“Your brother was talking to a friend, lifelong one, the one who's lived next door his whole life, and who knows the Toombs sister wouldn’t just show up at a 09er party for shits and giggles, so tell me what the fuck were you doing with the rich kids? Or what? You were just talkin’ to nature? The waves particularly chatty that night like Logan Echolls was?”
That caused you to turn around, the anger finally making its way up your throat and at the tip of your tongue.
“Maybe you should try and approach people with a little more kindness and thoughtfulness before you bum-rush them in the hallways of school. The waves were particularly chatty that night, so chatty that they convinced Logan to drop the charges on you so there’d be no more 3 day leaves, or bail hearings.” It wasn’t the way you wanted to tell him, you honestly didn’t want to tell him anything other than a white lie that you were at his grandmother’s house when the sheriff called to let the Navarro family know the charges had been dropped.
He stood there, wordless and you laughed sarcastically and looked around with a head shake before placing your pointed gaze back at him. “Next time you talk to my adoring, loving, idiot of a brother, tell him next time he wants to spy on me, maybe try a little harder to get the facts straight.” With that you were walking away just as angry as before, if not maybe a little more, just enough annoyance that you turned around to yell one more thing to Weevil. “I’ll be at your grandmother’s house after school, helping her organize her medication for the week and making dinner for everyone. So when you sick Felix on me, and he sees I’m at the grocery store on the nice side of the tracks, tell him it’s because that’s where the good meat is, not because I’m secretly dating an 09er.”
He looked at you, that look of regret sparkling bright in his eyes and moping on his face but your anger was so prominent right now that it didn’t matter and you kept moving to get to your next class.
_______
“Hey can we talk?” You heard the door open and by the couple minute silence you heard between the door being unlocked and the words being spoken it was obvious it was Weevil.
“Depends, did you set Felix up with binoculars and a good lip reader? Just wanna make sure he gets the full story this time.” You were stirring the pot over the stove, but in reality, you knew you were stirring more up.
“For the record, I didn’t tell your brother to spy on you. That was all on him.” He was walking up behind you now. Leaning back on his grandmother’s kitchen table.
“If I’ve learned anything over the years, I know that nothing goes down with PCHers that president Weevil doesn’t approve or know of.” You continued to drop a couple things into the pot and move the spoon around.
“You’re right that’s why Felix came to me to tell me about you and the party.” He nodded even though you couldn’t see him.
“You fuckin’ come at me like I’m hiding shit from you, when have I ever hidden shit from you?” Now you dropped the metal spoon into the pot, with slight force and turned around with a disgusted look on your face.
“Well, hate to get into specifics here but you were hiding shit from me.” He had a smile on his face as he said it because he knew he was right.
It didn’t stop you from getting extremely put out, you turned back around quickly, grabbing the metal spoon just as fast and with the same speed you were pulling it away. “Fuck!” You called out and started waving your hand before moving over to the sink and running cold water over it immediately. The red mark was getting brighter as the seconds passed.
“Shit, let me see.” Weevil was moving over to the sink next to you, his hand coming to grab yours. He hissed as he saw the burn mark forming. “Hold on, let me get you something, keep it under the water.” As you went to speak he was already moving out of the kitchen and into the hallway where you heard the linen closet opening and things shuffling around. Accompanied by the noise was a couple curses and another door opening and closing before Weevil was back.
“Let me wrap it up.” He was holding a bandana in hand. You weren’t exactly in the position to argue so you turned and held your hand out. Wincing as he touched the wound, you tried your best not to make a big deal out of it. “Sorry, but it’s better to cover it.”
“You claimin’ me now.” You looked at the bandana that he’d always keep with him that had the PCHer colors on it.
“People already know.” His answer was spoken fast and not thought through because he stumbled on the next ones. “I just mean– people already know, you know, not to mess with you, you don’t need no claim.”
“Yea but what do we do when you and Felix mess with me?”
Weevil laughed at that, still wrapping the bandana around your palm, tucking the last of the fabric around the back of your hand.
“If anyone, your brother included, put their hands on you, you know I’d take care of it.” Now he was looking at you, his eyes caught on yours, his hand still lightly wrapped around your injury.
“And you? Who takes care of you?”
“Apparently you do.” He was referring to what you did to help him with the open case in his name.
“Someone’s gotta.” Pulling your hand away from him you turned back to the stove and grabbed a towel so you could get back to what you were doing without an issue again.
“Let me get that.” He was stepping towards the stove and when he got close you jumped and his hands steadied you, your eyes catching each other again. “You know I love you, right?”
There it was. The line he always used when he was digging his way out of a fight with you. You stood there, wanting to tell him back, wanting to kiss him, wanting to let the pot boil over while you two just got lost in the moment, forget about everything that kept this from happening between the two of you.
But then the front door opened and your brother’s voice filled the Navarro house. “Yo Weev!”
It was all it took for you two to separate and Weevil was stepping in, grabbing the spoon. “Here I got it.” While you were moving to the kitchen table. As Felix stepped into the kitchen, his smile grew as he saw both of you and that food was being prepared. As he stuck his hand inside the serving bowl you had started to fill with food earlier, his eyes fell on you.
“What happened to your hand?” He was curious but not concerned, his main focus being on stuffing his face.
“I think I hurt it at a 09er party last night, did you catch that while you were spying on me you little narc.” You barked at him while also swatting his hand away from the bowl.
He lifted his hands in innocence and before he had a minute to defend himself Weevil was speaking up.
“She burned herself making food for us.” Weevil was turning the burner off.
“Idiot.” Felix laughed.
Again, before you could argue or stand up to push your brother, Weevil was stepping in. “Funny, because I think you meant to say sorry, followed by some sort of thanks because not only did she cook food for us, but she got the my charges dropped for me.” He was dangerously close to Felix’s face, his lips scrunching up and fists getting tight as he waited for his reply.
“My bad. Sorry.” Felix’s shoulders slumped down before he jumped back up about to leave the room and likely go hang in the living room with the rest of the Navarro family. “And thanks.”
“Thanks.” You said to Weevil after Felix left.
“Told you, I’d always have your back, with anyone.” He was placing the food on the table in front of you when you stood up and nodded.
Your anger was gone, but your emotions were still high. Upset, that’s what you were. Upset that things were the way they were, that everything was secret. You could get behind the secrets that benefited someone, like going to a 09er party to get someone off charges, but what you couldn’t get behind anymore were secret feelings. It was the point where you were tired of hiding how you felt about Weevil, and him doing the same thing and hiding it behind having your back.
“Yea, and maybe one day we can be honest about why.”
dividers by: @cafekitsune ♥️ 💖 All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 (let me know if you’d like to be added! This is for any new fandoms or fandoms I’ve only written a couple fics for)
#Veronica Mars#vmars#weevil navarro#Eli Navarro#Eli Weevil Navarro#Weevil Eli Navarro#Veronica Mars fanfiction#VMars fanfiction#Weevil#Weevil Navarro x Reader#my writing#garbinge
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Whumptober 2023
No. 24 Broken Alt Prompt
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Commonwealth (post series/no France era)
Warnings: Broken bones, suggestive/sexual themes
“Daryl!”
You made it to the piping that allowed you to climb down the side of the building. Your group had to scale up on the other side of the iron gate. There was no time to open it and the walkers were right on your heels. With only a narrow, unsturdy ledge to get you all across, you had to move swiftly and yet with care and precision.
The structure started crumbling when half your group had made it but gave way beneath Daryl as he was above the gate. He clipped the gate but luckily fell onto the side clear of the undead. If you could really call anything that had just happened lucky.
The archer was moving at least by the time you reached him, dragging himself away from the rotten fingers grasping at his clothes from through the bars.
“Hey, hey. Don’t move too much. Let me take a look at you.” You dropped your bag as your knees hit the concrete, hands hovering over him frantically. “What hurts?”
“Be easier ta tell ya wha’ don’ hurt.” He carefully lowered himself onto his back, needing a moment to gather his bearings. “Leg.” He finally gritted out. You nodded and turned your body toward his lower extremities. The wound was easy to spot, a dark patch near the middle of his left shin.
“Looks like you landed on something. Broke the skin. Let me see how bad it is and if we should pull it out.”
Daryl rose to his elbows, the rest of the group forming a protective circle around the two of you. When you cut a larger opening in his jeans to access the wound, your face paled.
“Shit.” You whispered, wide eyes staring at the very obvious fracture that had broken through the skin. Daryl’s expression matched your own.
“Please don’ pull tha’ out.” He joked with no real humor in his tone.
“What’re we dealing with?” Aaron asked with a quick glance over his shoulder. Once he spotted your stricken expression, he turned fully and kneeled beside you.
“Broken. Looks like tibia but fibula could be fractured as well.” You weren’t a doctor but living in the apocalypse meant that you had brushed up on your medical knowledge. Sometimes, field medicine was required and it was vital to know the name and importance of parts.
“We jus’ gon’ sit here n’ stare at my leg or we gonna get me up n’ do wha’ we came here fer?” Daryl snapped. He never liked being the center of attention and, with all eyes on him, he was becoming increasingly antsy.
“The only place you’re going is home. Tomi’s gotta set this.” You started to wrap the wound as tight as you could without sacrificing circulation, wincing when Daryl shot forward with a muttered curse. “Sorry.”
“We don’ need ta go back. I can—”
You stopped him with a gentle hand over his mouth, shocked that it actually worked, though his brows did draw inward. There was definitely a scowl behind your palm. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean you should.”
“She’s right, Daryl.”
Knowing when to admit defeat when it came to you, the bowman let himself fall back to lie flat with a muttered “fine.” You smiled fondly and patted the thigh of his uninjured leg.
“Think you can spare anyone to help us get back?” You asked Aaron, chewing your lip. There were so few of you on this mission as it was.
“Don’t need no one else.” Daryl grumbled, twisting to get his good leg under him. “Gimme a hand, woman.”
“You’re gonna hurt yourself worse being a stubborn ass.” You scolded, but grabbed his outstretched hand anyway. With the help of you and his crossbow, he was able to get to his feet. Well… foot. You placed his arm over your shoulders and gave Aaron a shrug. “I guess it’s just us. Good luck. See you at home.”
Daryl mumbled a goodbye and then you were on your way.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” You smiled down at the archer, your fingers smoothing and brushing his long hair away from his face. The two day journey had been rough on his injury, signs of mild infection setting in before you were able to get him back to the Commonwealth. Tomi recommended sedation for setting the bone and cleaning up the wound. Daryl had voiced his displeasure but in the end— after some persuasion from you— he had relented.
“Leg hurts like hell.” The archer grumbled, maneuvering himself a little further up on the pillows. He swatted at your hands when you tried to help him. His lower left leg was in a cast that descended past his ankle and onto his foot. You watched his already pinched expression morph into one of disgust.
“Can’t move your ankle without affecting those bones.” You explained.
“Can’ hunt with one foot.”
“Oh, you’re not doing any hunting, mister.” Your expression softened when his shifted into something approaching mortification. “We’ve got other hunters, Daryl. Think of this as a vacation.” You turned to grab the water glass from the table.
“Fer how long?”
Offering him a drink, you mumbled an inaudible response. He didn’t need to say a word, the flared nostrils and arched brow were enough. “Three or four months.” You winced.
“Ya gotta be shittin’ me!” He snapped, not at all interested in the water you were offering him.
“It was a bad break, Daryl.”
“No shit.” His hands were over his face now, his muscles tense and breathing irregular. You hated to see him like this. Independence was important to Daryl but so was the need to carry his own weight around the community. He was losing both in one fell swoop.
“It won’t be that bad, you know.” Your fingers wrapped around his wrists and he allowed you to lower his arms before he gave you the most pitiful pout you had ever seen. “You’ll see.”
You moved everything downstairs with the help of Carol and Aaron, turning your living room into a bedroom for the time being. Judith and RJ pitched in with cooking and cleaning, under your watchful eye, of course.
Daryl was in a sour mood the day he was released to go home. The crutches were difficult to get used to, his leg ached, and he hated the looks people gave him as he hobbled by. He always felt inferior but those looks, to him, confirmed it.
“Welcome home, Uncle Daryl!” The kids cheered as they threw open the door with Carol right behind them. The corner of his mouth twitched up the slightest bit and he nodded, begrudgingly accepting your help to step up over the threshold. You shared a look with Carol once he had headed through, her hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder.
When Daryl saw the living room, he visibly deflated, shoulders slumping and head lowering. Carol hugged him from the side and tucked his hair behind his ear.
“It’ll be okay.” She said quietly. “Okay, kids! Upstairs for homework! Then wash up for dinner!” Rubbing Daryl’s back for a moment longer, she smiled at you. “I’m going to finish up in the kitchen while you get him settled.”
“Thank you.” You nodded. Daryl maneuvered around to the front of the couch, waiting while you followed so you take the crutches and help him sit down. You were quick to set the equipment aside in favor of helping him get his leg up and stretch out. You grabbed a pillow from the mattress on the floor and placed it against the couch arm so he could lie back. “Comfortable?” You crouched down and rubbed a hand up and down his sternum.
“Mhm.” His expression was hardly convincing. You sighed and stood, bending to press a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’m gonna help Carol with dinner. Call for me if you need anything.” He nodded again, not meeting your eyes. You gave him one last glance before stepping out of the room.
“He’ll be okay, Y/N.”
“I know. I just hate seeing him like this.” You stared back toward the doorway, knowing Daryl was battling inwardly just beyond where you could see. You could only pray he’d settle and allow himself to rest and heal.
A couple of days passed with you and Daryl settling into a routine. He did things around the house that he could. He rinsed and dried dishes you washed, leaning on one crutch or the countertop. He sat with the kids while they did homework and helped where he could. He made sure the kids got out the door on time for school and welcomed them home afterward.
Honestly, anything that kept him out of bed or on the couch, he would try to do. You didn’t stand in his way unless he started showing signs of pain. After two days, it was getting a little better, easier to get by without pain medication around the clock. The constant throb had dulled to an ache.
“You want something for lunch?” You asked, leaning over the back of the couch. Daryl’s eyes opened, his head tilting back to find you smiling down at him.
“M’okay, thanks.”
Your fingers busied themselves combing through his hair and scratching lightly over his scalp. You swore you could hear him start to purr. When his eyes closed, you hopped up to teeter on the back of the couch, pressing your lips to his.
“You know, I can think of a few things you can do that don't require moving from that spot.”
Daryl opened his eyes and laughed as an exhale through his nose. “Oh yeah? S’that?” His smile remained as you comically wiggled back to get your feet onto the floor.
Rounding to stand in front of him, you smiled with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “It might even make you feel better.” You threw your leg over him and sat to straddle his hips. His hands came to rest on your sides, just below your ribs.
“Think s’workin’ already.” Pressing the heel of his good foot into the cushions, he lifted his hips and ground up into you.
You hummed approvingly. His hands were warm under yours while you guided him to the hem of your shirt. “I can’t seem to take this off by myself. Think you could help me out?”
“Don’ know, Sunshine. Seems like a helluva hassle.” You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled forth as he sat up, your shirt pushed up to your collarbone so he could press his mouth to the valley of your breasts. His fingers had just begun to tinker with the clasp of your bra when there came a knock at your door.
You both glared in the direction of the entryway, Daryl growling in annoyance.
“Ignore it.” He huffed, going back to what he was doing.
“Wait, wait!” As much as you hated to put a damper on his good mood, “what if it’s about the kids?” The archer stilled and sat back. His shoulders dropped and he muttered a curse, jerking his chin toward the door.
“G’on.”
You adjusted your shirt and climbed off, shuffling quickly toward the door. When you opened it, you couldn’t stop the bewilderment in your expression. “Can I, um, help you?”
“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Elizabeth.” The middle-aged woman shifted her weight from foot to foot, one hand fiddling with the covered baking pan in her arms. “I heard that Mr. Dixon got hurt. I’m real sorry.”
“It’s appreciated but he’s gonna be fine.” You smiled sincerely. “Just taking some time to heal up.”
“I heard.” Elizabeth nodded. “Anyway, back in the spring, when the hospital had the shortage, Mr. Dixon—”
“Please,” you interjected with a soft chuckle, “call him Daryl.”
Elizabeth looked a little uncertain but nodded regardless. “Daryl went out to find the antibiotics my son needed.”
“You’re Peter’s mom.” You remembered what she was talking about. Ezekiel had set up a council meeting to designate a group run. Daryl knew that the kid had been given a death sentence if antibiotics weren’t started within hours. He went out immediately, with only you having the knowledge that he had left. There were only a few places to raid that had previously been marked as too dangerous without a sizable group. He had returned, bloodied and bruised, but with enough antibiotics for several doses. “I hope he’s doing okay now.”
“He’s back to terrorizing his teacher and I. Thanks to Mr. D— I mean, Daryl.”
You felt tears threatening to gather and took a deep breath through you nose before smiling. “I’ll let him know how your kiddo is doing. He’ll be glad to hear it.”
“Oh! Well, I brought this. It’s not much and I had to compromise on some ingredients but it is good.” Elizabeth had no more than peeled back the edge of the towel and your mouth watered.
“Lasagna. Wow! It's been a minute.” Putting out your hands to take the pan, you smiled brightly, excited to tell Daryl. “He’s going to be pretty damn happy.” You chuckled.
“He’s the reason I still have my son. When I heard he was hurt, I just had to do something.” Your heart clenched and there were those damn tears again. “Anyway, please thank him for me and wish him a speedy recovery. Thank you, Mrs. Dixon.”
“Oh, I’m—”
“Have a good day!”
“You…too.” You closed the door with a shrug, taking the pan to the kitchen. You couldn’t seem to dismiss the fluttering in your stomach induced by Elizabeth’s misconception. You placed the dish in the oven to warm later. It’d be a nice dinner for you, Daryl, Carol, and the kids. There wasn’t enough for you all to have much but sharing was something you had all perfected over the years. “Daryl, you’ll never guess who was—”
He was already balanced in his elbow, waiting for you to finish your statement when you looked toward the entryway after another knock.
“The hell could tha’ be?”
You shrugged and returned to the door, pulling it open only to find yet another person with an offering and story of appreciation for Daryl. You had no more than thanked them and put the cookies away when there came another knock.
And another.
And another.
And another.
You finally found time in between guests to explain things to Daryl. He had stared at you in disbelief, eyes shining, but before you could reassure him, there came another knock. You patted his cheek affectionately and continued your endless journeys between the door and the kitchen.
The kids came home and started to help. Judith assisted RJ with putting away main courses and side dishes. Freezing things that could be and refrigerating what needed it. It was just around dusk when the last knock came. You heard the story and thanked them on Daryl’s behalf, smiling as you closed the door and leaned against it.
When you returned to the kitchen this time, Daryl was in the doorway with his crutches, watching with an unreadable expression as the kids moved around to put the items away.
“Ya were serious then?” He asked quietly.
You snorted. “Not something I’d lie about, Dixon.”
He nodded, his brow creasing. “Don’ help people so they do stuff fer me when shit happens.”
“I know that. So do they.”
He nodded again, this time with a sniff. “Okay.” He positioned his crutches and left for the living room again. You didn’t let him know you had seen the tear fall. You just smiled toward where he had been standing and then continued to help the kids.
After lasagna, you gave Daryl a break and sat with Judith and RJ for homework time, then sent them to bed with promises of a board game over the weekend. By the time you crawled onto the mattress by the fire, finding Daryl already there— you’d let it slide this time that you knew he needed help and probably made his leg hurt— and staring up at the ceiling.
On your side to face him, you rubbed your hand over his bare bicep. “Penny for your thoughts.” His eyes slid to the corner to look at you and then back to the obviously more interesting ceiling.
He cleared his throat. “Jus’, uh… jus’ wonderin’ why them folks went ta all tha’ trouble.”
Your smile was sad this time. “Because you’re important to this community. They care about you.”
“Y’mean they care ‘bout the things I do.”
“No. I don’t.” Sitting up, you turned to sit on your hip. “Why is it so hard to think that people genuinely care about you?”
“Y’know why.” He countered dryly.
You nodded. “You’re right. I do. I just thought that after all these years, you’d gotten past that.” He sighed, lifting an arm to lay it across his eyes. “You’ve done so much for these people, Daryl. You’ve shown what a good man you are. You’ve earned your place here. You’ve become one of them. And they have grown to care about you; about all of us.”
He moved his arm again, resting it on his chest. “Ya really think so, don’tcha?”
“I know so.” You stated matter-of-factly. He hummed, seeming to mull over your words. When he didn’t say anything else, you crawled over, successfully closing the gap between you. “I think you have some things you were supposed to do for me, Mr. Dixon.”
The corner of his mouth raised into a half-smile. “Ya gonna make me lasagna after I do stuff fer ya?”
“Depends on how well you do it.” You had already bent down to press your lips to the side of his neck while your palms caressed his chest and abdomen.
“That sounds almos’ like a challenge, Mrs. Dixon.”
There was a smile against his skin. “Heard that part, huh?”
“Maybe.” His large hands grabbed your hips to guide you onto his lap. “I think I liked the sound of it.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Your head was tilted while your finger traced shapes over his sternum. He chuckled.
“Not yet. Ain’t no fun if’n ya know it’s comin’.” He reached to brush his knuckles down your jaw. You let your eyes flutter closed and leaned into the touch. “Would ya say ‘yes’?”
You hummed, leaning down to capture his lips, gently working your mouth over his for but a moment. “Ain’t no fun if’n ya know what I’d say.” You had lowered your voice and tried to rasp each word.
“Guess we’ll jus’ hafta be surprised then, huh?” He pushed up your shirt, urging you to remove it. You quickly obliged and tossed it somewhere outside the light of the fire. You unhooked the clasp of your bra and allowed it to join your shirt.
“Guess so.” His hands immediately found your breasts, rolling your hardened nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Now, let me show you how I say thank you.”
He full on laughed, a sound you didn’t hear often enough but cherished just the same; hearty and warm. “Yes, ma’am.”
#whumptober2023#no.24#broken#altprompt#the walking dead#fic#broken bones#nsfwhump#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon the walking dead#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl drabbles#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x y/n#daryl x you#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl x reader
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The Poetry of the Body: Two
Miguel Galindo x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3070
Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, fainting, references to sex/implied sex, implied age gap, hurt/comfort vibes, AU where Emily doesn't exist.
Summary: You and Miguel discuss the possibility of expanding your family, and negotiate the details.
A/N: thanks to my beloved @misscharlielulu for all her love and support in getting this finished, and @bullet-prooflove for her Nestor advice. Title of the fic is from ’La llama doble. Amor y erotismo’ by Octavio Paz. Title of the chapter comes from 'Pedro Paramo' by Juan Rulfo, full quote on ao3. Written to fulfil the 'don't worry, I'll take good care of you' square for @storiesofsvu2-0 / @storiesofsvu's bingo! (ao3)
Two: The Pure Murmuring of Life (ao3)
It’s one of those days where nothing seems to go right. Miguel rose early in order to attend to some business south of the border, leaving you to wake up alone. Your whole body aches – another thing you blame Miguel for. Having sex on the kitchen floor certainly seemed like a thrilling idea last night, but you were paying the price for it today.
The day only gets worse once you shower and dress, and make your way downstairs. Any notion you have about taking Cristóbal out for breakfast abruptly shatters the moment you hear him screaming, a harried-looking Maria attempting to reason with him in Spanish. Still in his pyjamas, your son’s small body is wracked with sobs at the injustice of not being allowed to climb into the dryer and go for a spin.
It takes what feels like hours to soothe him, and it’s closer to lunchtime by the time he’s finally calm enough for Maria to take him upstairs and dress him. You stay downstairs, sitting on the couch to talk to Nestor. Starving, sore, and head pounding, you’re relieved to have a moment of calm.
“I don’t want to stay out for long; I just need to get out of the house. Is there enough security still here?” You have no concept of how many men have gone south with Miguel, but the fact that he left Nestor here tells you he’s not expecting any trouble. Nestor stands by the arm of the couch and nods.
“More than enough to keep a detail at the house while we’re gone. I’ll ask Paco to bring the car around.” He takes his phone out and begins tapping out a message, and even the sound of his phone keyboard clicking makes you rub your temples. Maybe you should take some ibuprofen before you head out. You’re so hungry you feel sick; a granola bar wouldn’t be a bad idea either.
Before you can do anything, you hear footsteps on the stairs again. Cristóbal is all smiles when he comes back downstairs, finally dressed and ready to go. He beams when he notices you on the couch and twists in Maria’s arms to reach out for you.
“Hi, sweetheart. Are you ready?” You ask him, standing up quickly.
It’s a mistake.
Your vision blurs. The room swims in front of you, and you’re only vaguely aware of your knees buckling before everything goes dark.
Sounds come back to you first. Cristóbal is crying again, but he sounds oddly muffled. You’re too disoriented even to try opening your eyes. Instead, you focus on your breathing.
You’re on the floor, that becomes apparent quickly. The wood is pleasantly cool against your forehead. You don’t know how you ended up down here, but you try not to think too hard about it. After a long pause, you gingerly open your eyes.
It takes a moment for you to be able to focus on anything. The first thing you do see clearly is Nestor, kneeling beside your head. He has your wrist in his hand, you realise, his fingers resting over your pulse point. He must have caught you before you fell, lowered you onto the floor. An intense feeling of déjà vu sweeps over you; you’ve been in this exact position before.
The fainting was the first real sign that something was wrong last time.
You can vividly remember waking up on the kitchen floor to Miguel yelling at someone to bring the car around. Breakfast had been abruptly abandoned, the bacon smouldering alarmingly on the stove. You had only found out you were pregnant a week prior and the fainting spell had been written off as the result of your body simply adjusting to the new life growing inside it.
Then the vomiting started. You lost weight at a rate that alarmed your doctors, who kept you in for a flurry of tests. Hyperemesis gravidarum had been the official diagnosis; morning sickness so severe that you could barely keep water down on some days. Between the dizziness and the nausea, you had hardly left the house until after your son was born.
As soon as you realise that you fainted, you know that you’re pregnant again.
You stopped taking your birth control months ago, but your periods had stayed irregular; you have no idea how late you actually are. The reality of it hits you all at once, but you do your best to choke it back. Cristóbal is sobbing in Maria’s arms, desperately wailing for you, and you raise your head slightly. You need to take care of him first.
“It’s okay, baby, Mama’s okay. Come here,” you tell him. Nestor lets go of your wrist as you shift on the floor, trying to make yourself marginally more comfortable on the wood. Maria brings Cristóbal closer, eventually setting him down so he can toddle over to you.
“Do you want me to help you up onto the couch?” Nestor asks quietly, before your son can reach you. Cristóbal crawls into your arms, his cheeks damp as he presses his face against your collarbone.
“No, thank you. I just need to stay here for a minute.” You can’t fall again if you’re already on the floor. Nestor nods, wordlessly grabbing a cushion for you to rest your head on as he stands back up to his full height. In your arms, Cristóbal has settled slightly, though his voice is still thick with tears.
“Mama fell,” he says plaintively, and your heart swells.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry. Did I scare you? I’m okay, Mama’s okay,” you whisper against his warm forehead, breathing in the smell of his hair. You rest your head on the cushion and look up to see Nestor and Maria sharing a meaningful glance. Cristóbal’s little fists grab handfuls of your hair, but you barely feel the pressure on your scalp. You know what that look is about.
“Don’t tell Miguel.” It comes out harsher than you mean it to. Nestor and Maria exchange another look, before Nestor sighs.
“Mikey’ll want to know.”
“And he will. I’ll tell him myself when he comes home tonight.” You hold Cristóbal a little tighter, rubbing his back. The last thing you want to do right now is argue with Nestor, but you can’t back down. “Please, Nestor. I’ll tell him tonight.”
He looks unconvinced; it’s hard to convey how serious you’re being while you’re lying on the floor.
“Maria, would you mind making Cristóbal something for lunch? I don’t think we’ll be able to go out today after all.” To your relief, she nods and walks towards the kitchen. One less person to deal with right now. The mention of food makes Cristóbal squirm in your arms so you let him go, watching him toddle off to the kitchen to ‘help’ Maria. Gingerly, you start to try to shift into a sitting position. Nestor notices, crouching back down automatically in case you faint again.
You manage to sit yourself up, your back resting against the couch as you take several deep breaths. All of this would be so much easier if Miguel was home. He grew up with housekeepers and nannies and security guards; he’s infinitely more at ease issuing them with orders than you are. Even Nestor, occupying that liminal space between employee and childhood best friend, does what Miguel tells him to do.
Orders don’t come naturally to you. Especially not now, when your head is a whirlwind of different emotions and needs, all pulling your attention in separate directions. Miguel would take care of everything if he were here, having conversations that need to be had and making appointments that need to be made. But you have no idea where he is or when he’ll be home, so it’s up to you.
“Nestor,” you start, swallowing thickly. “I need you and Maria not to say anything to Miguel yet.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you know I have to tell Mikey.” Him calling you ma’am isn’t a good sign. Miguel had half-stepped into the role of older brother for him since he was a teenager; you aren’t going to overcome more than twenty years of loyalty. He’ll never listen to you over Miguel.
“If you tell Miguel I fainted, he will want to know why. And he’ll know why, the same way that I’m sure you do. Miguel will figure it out the same way you did.” You know in your gut that Nestor knows. The same intense déjà vu that struck you must have hit him too; an echo of the six long months where he hardly left your side when Miguel wasn’t around. It had been a sign of how concerned Miguel really was about you, leaving his most trusted lieutenant to watch over you and the life inside you.
“...Mikey doesn’t know?” Nestor asks eventually, taking a seat on the coffee table - still close enough to catch you if you faint again. You’ll mention it to Miguel later, how seamlessly Nestor has fallen back into old protocols.
“No. I don’t even know yet, not for sure. But I don’t want him to find out like this, Nestor; hundreds of miles away, because something bad happened. Let me tell him myself tonight, so he can celebrate.” You watch him think it over, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Eventually, he nods, and you sigh in relief.
The two of you negotiate a little more - he’ll talk to Maria, he’ll do his best to make sure Miguel comes home at a reasonable hour tonight on a security pretext, you absolutely promise that you’ll tell your husband that the fainting has started again - and he helps you up onto the couch before he leaves.
You settle back onto the couch, closing your eyes as you get comfortable. From experience, you know you’ll need to stay put for an hour or so. The sound of Cristóbal’s uneven footsteps makes you open your eyes again as he runs up to the couch, his stuffed rabbit in his hand.
“It’s ‘kay, Mama. Make feel better.” He thrusts the stuffed rabbit at you, and you tuck it into the crook of your arm. Another powerful wave of emotion washes over you, and you will yourself not to cry; you don’t want your son to think his sweet gesture has upset you.
“Oh baby, thank you.” You whisper, stroking Cristóbal’s curls gently. “You know, Daddy had a brother too. That’s who you’re named after.” Your son brightens at the mention of his father, babbling the word ‘daddy’ happily back to you, looking around for Miguel. “No, Daddy’s not home yet, sweetheart. But we’ll have a nice surprise for him when he comes back, won’t we?”
****
You watch anxiously from the kitchen window as the cars are let through the gate, the convoy your husband took south arriving home seemingly without incident. Certainly, there’s no sign that Miguel came home in a panic, word having reached him of what happened today.
Since your fainting this afternoon, you’ve been relatively busy. Maria had kept Cristóbal occupied while you rested on the couch, planning your evening, and Nestor had gone out for the items you’d requested. You’d briefly wondered why he’d bothered to go himself for steak and sparkling grape juice, until he returned from town with two boxes of pregnancy tests stashed among the groceries.
You really needed to tell Miguel to give him a raise.
By the time Miguel walks through the door, everything is ready. You smooth your hands down your dress, stepping out of the kitchen to greet him.
“Hi baby,” he starts, his eyes widening slightly once he gets a good look at you. “Did we have dinner plans?” You’re overdressed for dinner at home, a green dress that clings in all the right places. He kisses you chastely in greeting, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.
“No, I made us dinner. I thought you might need it, after your day.” You lead him by the hand to the table on the veranda outside. The fire and torches are lit, casting everything in a soft golden light, and music is playing softly from the speakers.
“Valentine’s Day was last month. Or is this you angling for a repeat of last night?” He asks teasingly, the fingers of his free hand finding the bruise he’d left on your wrist when he pinned you to the floor.
“Maybe.” He humours you, especially when he realises you’ve made him filet mignon, so rare that the knife glides through the meat with almost no resistance. That, and the pinot noir you’d opened for him, provide an excellent distraction. He doesn’t question why you’re drinking a different wine - which isn’t wine at all, but sparkling grape juice you’d decanted into an empty bottle - or eating a blander meal than his own.
The conversation throughout dinner is light; he doesn’t offer any details about what he was doing south of the border, and you don’t ask. You want the other world to be as far away from you as possible tonight. The mains finished, you tell him to stay put while you clear the table and fetch dessert.
You uncork the champagne in the kitchen and sink the bottle into the waiting bucket of ice. For a moment you wish you could take a sip, just to steady your nerves. From the cabinet, you fetch a single champagne flute, one of the Villeroy & Boch set that had been a wedding gift. You take the stem between two fingers and turn it so the base rests in your palm, allowing you to carry it at the same time as the stainless-steel bucket.
“I know that champagne is more of an apéritif than a digestif, but it seemed more appropriate for the topic.” You tell Miguel once you’re back in earshot. He turns to look at you, a faint smile playing around his lips. The firelight suits him; between the shadows and the golden wash of light, he looks like an oil painting—a study of some long-ago king, all easy authority and charm.
“What’s the topic?” He asks, leaning back in his chair so he can watch you.
“Celebrations,” you tell him, pouring the champagne for him. “It’ll be yours and Cristóbal’s birthdays next month.” It had felt like it meant something when Cristóbal was born just days before Miguel’s own birthday in April - the one silver lining to having to deliver him early. Instead of returning to your own chair, you sit in Miguel’s lap. His free hand comes up to your waist instinctively, holding you close while he reaches for the glass.
“Three already,” Miguel says, taking a sip of his champagne. You drape your arm over Miguel’s broad shoulders, taking a moment just to savour the closeness.
“I know.” Your fingers find their way into Miguel’s hair, combing through the thick black curls. He relaxes under you, a long sigh escaping him. He takes another sip of champagne and frowns.
“You’re not having one?” Miguel turns his head to look at you. “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?” His tone is teasing, and he playfully pinches your side. His fingers land over a ticklish spot, and you giggle in spite of yourself.
“No. I can’t have one.” You bite your lip, waiting for him to connect the dots. “That’s the other thing we need to celebrate.” Miguel’s lovely dark eyes search your face, his expression softening.
“Really?” He asks, and you nod.
“I took the test today. I still need to go to the doctor’s to confirm but-” Whatever else you might say is cut off by the kiss Miguel gives you. He pulls you even closer to him, his champagne glass abandoned on the table so he can wrap his arms fully around you.
“Te quiero mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs between kisses. For the first time all day, you can relax and just let your emotions wash over you. You’re having another baby; it’s a thrilling and frightening prospect all at once.
“I love you too.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder as he pulls away slightly to take another sip of his champagne. You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in contented silence. The fire has dipped low, and the breeze rolling in off the hills makes you shiver in your thin dress. Miguel is immediately on alert, setting his empty glass down and looking at you with concern.
“Do you want to go inside?” Miguel asks, rubbing your arm. The pressure is just slightly too much on your sore skin, and you wince. “Baby?” He tugs the short sleeve of your dress up, exposing the already-forming bruises you had acquired earlier.
“Oh. That was my first clue I was pregnant again; I fainted this afternoon. Nestor caught me.” You try to keep the worry out of your voice, stroking your fingers down his forearm. Miguel fixes you with a searching look, those beautiful dark eyes carefully searching your face.
“How are you feeling now?” He asks. You know that tone; it’s one that brooks no argument, allows for no white lies.
“Physically? Fine. A little tender, maybe.” You begin, but Miguel’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Emotionally? I don’t know. Happy, yes. Scared.” Your voice breaks a little on the last sentence. Miguel smooths a hand over your hair, adjusting you on his lap.
“We know what to expect this time. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You turn your head into his shoulder, trying not to ruin the celebratory mood. For a long moment, you sit there like that, Miguel’s hand running soothingly down your back. Even pressed against him like this, you shiver again.
“Let's get you inside.” Miguel lets you go, and you slide reluctantly off his lap.
“What about the champagne?”
“I’ll take care of the champagne. You take care of you. You said you were feeling fine physically?” He asks, draining what’s left of his glass. You nod, and he grins, stepping closer to you. There’s barely an inch of space between your bodies, and he catches your chin between his finger and thumb, tilting your face up to look at him.
“Go and get yourself into bed. And then I’ll see what I can do to take care of you.”
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