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#mia how to vomit
skzprincess · 9 months
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i will lose 20 pounds in 2024 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
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highlifeboat · 1 year
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Hot take but I choose to believe Mia genuinely cared about Eveline to some extent, at the very least before the Baker Incident, because she knows Evie is just a kid. A very powerful, kid, but a kid none the less.
Like, if Eveline was around Mia enough to imprint on her, I find it hard to believe Mia didn't feel anything towards her, either, y'know? Maybe not to the same level as Eveline, but still.
Anyway I think they kinda deserve each other in some way.
I think in the world where Ethan kills Mia and she's stuck in the Megamycete her and Eveline have the chance to... start over, I guess. It's a process, but they live in the Megamycete Baker Household forever as a fucked up little family or something, I dunno.
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acidaddicted · 2 years
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I feel like my coworkers are so done with me I come in, throw up in the bathroom immediately, and then proceed to spend the next 8 hours complaining about how sick I am all the time and drinking 5 diet cokes instead of maybe ingesting a single drop of water
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spngi · 2 months
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My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader
Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 |part 5
Part 6
summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings
warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.
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Carlos stared at the ceiling in deep regret, the uncomfortable bed in the guest room killed him and just remembered how much he deserved it.
The three points scratching on his forehead reminded him of the fury he caused his wife, reminded him of how stupid he had been.
The truth is that he went to the hospital, he went and Martina was not there because it was just a desperate call from the mistress wanting him to come back to her. So the only real thing he had to do in that place was to allow them to close the wound on his forehead.
He knew he didn't deserve forgiveness and yet the look you threw at him when you saw him get home almost killed him.
He saw her begging for him for a long time, he had fun refusing you, realizing how much you longed to be close to him and still taking these opportunities from you as punishment.
Punishing you for ruining everything, everything he had planned in his sick head.
Carlos snorts, he was a sucker, he couldn't stand the bar when he saw you grow when he saw you become as big and strong as him and was punishing you. Because he thought you could be eternally the innocent and docile wife who vomited when she saw blood.
He really doesn't remember how fast everything ended up becoming, he waited forever for the apology coming from his wife. But today he didn't know exactly why what kind of excuses he wanted to hear. You had become an amazing woman, more than when he met you, and he would be blind if he couldn't see how much any other boss would like to have someone like you if not you as a partner.
Carlos knew that his wife had begged for his attention for too long, something deep inside him knew that when you begged him to love you again it would be the last time you would be willing to do this. And now it was his turn to humiliate himself.
Not that he considered it a humiliation to fight for you, he loved you after all. His crooked and insane way but he loved it.
That's why he had stuck in that situation, because while he was too busy hating the new qualities of his wife, it was too easy to fall in love with the same qualities you had in someone else, in projecting the old innocent version of your wife on any woman. He could throw himself out of that window at any moment of so much frustration with himself.
He could listen to the music coming through the next room, the old room you shared, it was playing a melody of Ibrahim ferrer and reminded him of so many times that he danced with you and smoked cigars while listening to the Cuban.
At that moment he felt like in that movie mamma mia that you had made him watch a thousand times, he could very well sing one of us, because he now understood the feeling of the music.
He hears the noise of the heels on the floor and gets up, he couldn't be stuck all day lamenting his own idiocy, not when you seemed to be leaving.
Carlos watches you down the hallway, green hunter dress drawing her body, her naked back in sight because of the stuck hair, he feels the smell of the perfume leaving the trail down the hallway and the jimmy choo heels hitting the floor.
Carlos loved when his wife wore green, he loved how the color stook out on her skin and how she looked simply like a goddess in this damn land. What about the perfume? He always loved the smell of his wife but the mixture she used to go out drove him crazy and he could have a heart attack in that hallway right now.
"Where are you going?" He asks annoyed that he was not considered in her plans.
"To a philanthropy event" y/n responds and turns to it, the front view is even more killer and Carlos would like to be good as you painting to be able to keep this scene.
"And why didn't you invite me?" He asks upset, you stare at him coldly as if you really don't need to answer which of the reasons for not inviting him.
"You've always hated these events," she finally replies, shrugging.
Carlos doesn't know what to answer, because it was true he really always hated going to gala events, and always complained about going to them, although he always came home to have you providing the best sex to thank him.
The beautiful woman in front of him does not expect an answer, it just follows as if the presence of Carlos was insignificant and he feels even more useless for not having received his invitation.
He waits in the living room anxiously, a glass of drink in his hand, two, three or who is counting? The night keeps going by and his wife never arrives, he wonders how many times you've been in his place lately, waiting for him at home while he was being stupid enough to be with another. He remembers the time he caught her sleeping in his office, nestled uncomfortably in the chair only in extremely light and delicate pink lingerie on her skin, he didn't wake her up that day, just letting you wake up of your own free will the other day with a horrible stiff neck.
He definitely deserved all the vases you could throw at him.
When you arrive, Carlos can no longer stare at the Watch or understand what time it is, he just faces you coming in laughing next to the boy Norris and wonders what he told you for you to laugh so much. Carlos could make you laugh, he loved being the reason for your laughter.
"Are you drunk?" The sainz is taken out of his astonishment when he hears her beautiful voice.
"A little" he cokes his eyes, tries to keep his posture firm in the armchair but it is useless.
He feels like a child out of the conversation while he sees you talking to Norris, you dismiss him and go back to Carlos.
"Let's go up" Carlos loves when you use the bostly tone with him, he smiles loosely with his words.
"Can I sleep in our room?"
"No, Carlos" your refusal hurts him, even when you lift him up and help him follow the steps to the stairs affectionately. Trying to balance him by your side even in heels.
"I love you so much, I'm a complete idiot, I love you, yn" sainz starts talking, the truth was that drunk carlos had a loose mouth and said everything that came to mind.
"I was wrong, I should never have doubted you, I hurt you so much and you could hit me as much as you wanted if it worked to forgive me"
"Carlos I don't want to talk to you now" y/n answers, finally opening the door of the couple's room.
His heart melts with the way you still take care of him, put him to bed and help him take off his shirt and jeans, he keeps talking incessantly about how much he feels and regrets it although you don't seem to listen much.
"You look so beautiful in green, you should wear more green, I love how beautiful you look in green" he keeps talking and you cover him with the blankets.
"You should sleep, Carlos" he is interrupted by her voice, he stops pondering and just lets himself admire her beauty, you were the most beautiful woman who inhabited this land and he was stupid enough to throw everything with you in the trash.
"I love you, cariño," he murmurs.
He doesn't listen if you answer him or when you gently kiss his forehead, too far already giving himself to sleep.
You don't sleep with him in the room that night, exchanging the guest room with him.
One more part with a carlos pov! I hope you guys are enjoying it!
Leave your comments and opinions ❤️❤️❤️
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 months
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hide the sun - n. mackinnon
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summary: there are some things nathan mackinnon can't cope very well with in life. one of them happens to be mia in hospital, and needless to say it's a whirlwind when it comes true. (f!oc!soccer player)
warnings: swearing, details of injury (stitches, concussion, temporary amnesia etc), mentions of vomiting, mentions of anxiety, brief mention of the pandemic, mentions of sports psychologists, mention of painkillers/hospitals/doctors, mentions of routines/small rituals, angst
word count: 13.8k (sheesh)
< a/n: this is for demi (the legend herself) @wyattjohnston as part of the summer fic exchange2k24! i hope you enjoy it! also a massive thank you for organising such a wholesome event in this little community!! >
Nate had lost count on how many times he’d had to dive into the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach in the last few hours. It seemed like every time he got close to stepping inside the hospital room his brain would play over what happened in his head and he’d relive it all again – as if once wasn’t enough. Only, his imagination was crueller than reality because the outcome would always be…Mia not conscious and talking in the hospital bed.
All is well, he had to keep reminding himself of that or the fine thread holding everything in check would spontaneously snap and he’d be inconsolable.
He’d gone through a lot in his life, but nothing had ever come close to him experiencing this level of fear before. And that in itself was a terrifying notion, because that fear was rooted in someone else’s well being. His happiness and his peace were attached to the woman in the hospital bed, not to himself, and he found that both profoundly moving and disturbing at the same time.
He flushed the toilet once more, stomach muscles aching, and shut his eyes, his head lolling against the wall behind him. 
He was well aware he was being a dick. Perhaps the biggest prick he’d ever been before in his entire life. And he was being all of that to the person he was wholeheartedly, irrevocably, hilariously in love with, too. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to forgive himself let alone ask for forgiveness from her.
He was still shaking and cold, and every time he shut his eyes that scene was played on repeat: the ball flying through the air, Mia jumping up to head it away but instead getting a sharp elbow to the temple (one Nate could safely say rivalled even Jacob Trouba’s weaponry) and going down cold. Nate knew it was bad just from the way she’d fallen – limbs loose, like a puppeteer had surrendered control of the strings – he’d had enough practice in his own field, and he hadn’t ever anticipated her also being on the receiving end of such a blow before. 
Of course, it had been her teammates first, frantic expressions on their faces as someone waved over the physios, and then the physios had waved over the paramedics and–
Nate inhaled a shuddering breath, a hand kneading away the pain in his chest. He’d never been one to admit he suffered with anxiety before, sure, he got them in bouts occasionally, but he’d never had it on this scale. Yet, another terrifying thing.
And to top all of that off, the guilt flowing through his veins was astronomical. He could feel it crushing his head from inside his skull, squeezing his heart and constricting his lungs and he just wanted to curl up somewhere and sob everything out of his system. Then, and only then would he be able to stomach the thought of seeing her: when he’d comprehended everything.
“Fucking dick, what are you doing?” He groaned into his hands, wiping away unshed tears and taking another shaky breath, this one making his chin wobble.
He was needed, he was painfully aware of that. Painfully. It scorched his insides and his consciousness didn’t hold back the self-belittling remarks in his head, but he couldn’t peel himself up from the floor. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to stand safely on his own legs, and he wasn’t entirely sure his stomach was strong enough just yet.
His phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans, and in an attempt to take it out of his pocket it clattered to the floor, victim to his trembling hands.
He blinked once, twice, three times to clear the blurriness of his eyes, and read over the words on his screen. He wasn’t entirely sure whether it was the shortness and cryptic tone of the message that had him finding strength from somewhere to haul himself onto his feet, or whether he was just intrinsically waiting for something to get him moving.
All anyone had been told so far was that she was in a stable condition – still unconscious – and that any scans that had been done so far had been as clear as they could be, that being no internal bleeding or haemorrhaging or anything that could have possibly resulted from getting hit in the temple and then bashing your head on the floor. A concussion was inevitable, and even thinking about it, Nate knew it wasn’t going to be a merciful one. 
Nevertheless, he managed to pocket his phone, a damp hand on the wall of the cubicle keeping him steady until he could unlock the door without wanting to immediately dive back in and hide until Mia was given the all-clear. 
He wasn’t even sure he knew what he was doing or where he was going when he was following the overhead signs, but he somehow ended up in the hallway. There were benches in the corridor, settled just outside Mia’s room, and he stopped as he rounded the corner.
There was a crowd of people significantly larger than when he’d initially run away to the toilets, and one quick glance at people’s faces told him they were teammates. It wasn’t the entire team, just a few close friends and the team physio – enough to mean a queue would have to be formed when she wakes up, what with some of her family members already in there.
And if he was being completely honest, Nate wasn’t sure what to expect as he slowly walked towards them. They’d taken up all the seats on the bench and a few people were sitting on the floor against the wall, but no one was talking. In fact, everyone appeared to be looking straight forwards at the same spot on the wall, but there was nothing there.
It was Milly who saw him first. She offered a tight smile and waved at him, and when he got close enough, just about to lower himself down on the floor next to her, she spoke.
“The doctor came out around two minutes ago.” She whispered, and Nate felt all the air in his lungs freeze.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, the sharp pain in his chest rendering him immobile. Of course he wanted to know if she was okay, but what if she wasn’t? That was the question that his mind kept repeating on a loop, and if that was the case then these few seconds he’d use to gather himself meant they’d be the last few seconds where he was ignorant to that piece of information.
He swallowed, unable to look at Milly, and instead turned his attention to the spot on the wall in front of him that everyone else seemed to be focused on.
“She’s awake.”
“Is she oka–” His throat was horrendously dry and his voice was scratchy, but it was Milly’s gentle hand on his forearm that had him shutting up.
“She’s okay.”
Nate nodded, not even noticing Milly had rescinded her touch, and instead inhaled deeply, nodding absent-mindedly.
“She’s been assessed, her memory’s a little bit patchy from the last couple of days but there’s no concern. Her family’s in there now.” She paused, and even out of the corner of his eye he could tell she was clearly hesitant in saying something to him. Everyone seemed to have looked at him like that since the minute he’d walked through the hospital doors, and he was starting to find it rather irritating. It felt awfully similar to impatience, like every time he caught someone looking at him with pity, wanting to say something but ultimately deciding not to (probably because they didn’t know how he’d react), he just wanted to yell – like when you get stuck behind a slow walker and you’re behind schedule in the airport.
He blinked hard, once, twice, before using the heel of his palm to quickly wipe his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed the water welling up until the wall in front of him had become a blurred mess of blocked colours: red, green, blue, white. 
“Are you gonna go in?” Milly asked finally, and he was at least glad she made no comment on his tears.
He shook his head, not entirely trusting himself to speak without his voice cracking or wavering, or a complete breakdown – he’d be lying to himself immensely if he denied that wasn’t on the cards.
“Can’t.” He croaked, pulling his knees up to his chest, as best as he could given his height, “I’m not family, they won’t let me in.”
Milly considered his words for a moment before frowning, “Who won’t let you in?”
“Doctors. I’m not family, so…They don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“That’s shit—”
“They told me to come back in the morning, but I’m not sure I can leave.” He whispered, his hand massaging the tender spot in his chest as he fought another onslaught of watery eyes.
He felt like it might be a bit of an overreaction to cry at the knowledge she was okay, but he couldn’t quite get a handle on anything. It was a combination of stress, worry and fear that just spiralled his emotions out of his own control, like someone else was fiddling with the joystick of a controller somewhere. Yet, even knowing the root of it all, the mere thought of straying more than a corridor away from the door to Mia’s hospital room was…incomprehensibly daunting. 
It almost sent him down another path of panic, he could feel the grips of it begin to claw at his heart rate and the clamminess of his palms again when he even so much as thought about it. 
No, he physically couldn’t bring himself to leave, at least not yet.
He’d at least give it another think when her parents walk out with a real update instead of the formal crap the doctors had spewed him earlier: some vague nonsense about her being stable but unable to tell quite the extent of the damage just yet, and if they knew they certainly couldn’t tell him because he wasn’t her husband. 
If only he’d lied initially. He’d probably think about that for the rest of his life.
Milly hummed, pulling out her phone. If the circumstances had been different Nate probably would have been able to stop himself peeking over at what she was doing, but he was so despondent and distracted in his own head, those horrified replays still flickering on a loop in the back of his mind, that he couldn’t bring himself to be nosey for once.
“That’s not right,” Milly muttered under her breath, scrolling down several pages of text, “They should let you in, you know? There’s no laws against it, it’s just been cracked down on during the Pandemic.”
“Huh?” Nate tilted his head, his nose running slightly. Now that the worst of his tears had gently fizzled away, his eyelids were heavy and his eyes were burning with fatigue. In fact, he could feel the exhaustion settle into his bones, and he knew that in about an hour he could be asleep on the hospital floor, even with those fluorescent lights shining in his face.
“They should let you in.” Milly repeated, pushing herself up and walking over to the nearest desk before Nate could even think about responding.
He kept his mouth shut, watching her talk to the receptionist from afar, not able to hear the exact words over all the hubbub, but getting the general gist of it when Milly half-turned to point at him. He couldn’t help it when his mouth flattened into a straight line and his eyes awkwardly averted themselves…before immediately flicking back over to the conversing pair, slightly afraid he’d miss something yet shaking in his shoes  at the thought of a shaking head of denial.
Milly patted the counter, before wandering back over to the group of them all, teammates sitting up straighter in their chairs and against the wall, eager eyes fixed on their captain, anticipation shimmering in their eyes.
Nate swallowed nervously, his hands still shaking and stomach still rolling. He was sure he looked as pale as he felt, as sickly as he felt. Milly’s avoidance of his stare was unnerving.
“I think I’m gonna go.” Milly came to a standstill in front of Nate, her expression unreadable, and before Nate could even stutter out an urgent ‘why?’, someone down the line beat him to it.
“It’s getting late, and we know she’s okay.” Milly paused, not quite knowing what to say, “I don’t want to overwhelm her, and we’re not gonna see her tonight, anyway.”
Nate blinked, jaw ticking, and when he looked back up, the corridor was nearly deserted. Milly was hovering near him, watching as the last body filed around the corner, shoulders slumped as she disappeared from view, before turning to him, “They said the doctors would be less likely to let anyone in if there was a massive group of people outside the room. I don’t know it’s gonna help your chances now, but…”
Nate felt his jaw drop before he registered what he was doing, quickly clamping it shut with a grateful nod of his head, “Thank you.”
She shrugged, “It’s nothing.”
“You can stay, too, y’know–”
“Oh, no. I appreciate the offer, but if me not being here is the difference between you getting to see her or not, I’d rather not risk it.” She breathed a laugh, “Besides, I’ve got kids waiting for me at home.”
He nodded absently, and Milly had the strangest sense that he wasn’t completely there. He was inside his head, eyes a little bit unfocused as he looked in her general direction; his knee was bouncing, whether he’d noticed that or not she couldn’t tell – but she knew none of that would disappear immediately. At least, not until he’d be granted permission to enter the room and see her for himself.
And for that reason, she chose not to offer any words of comfort – they’d fall on deaf ears. Instead, she did something she’d been working up the courage to ask him for a while now..
“Um, this isn’t the right time to be asking this, I’m well aware, but you wouldn’t happen to know any sports psychologists I could get in touch with, would you?” 
For a harrowing and humiliating moment, Milly thought she’d just have to turn around, that the slight furrow of his brow as he stared relentlessly at that spot on the wall was just because she interrupted a comforting silence, but five seconds passed before she realised he was thinking.
His fingers fumbled with his phone as he removed it from a pocket, and she started, heart hammering in her chest when it slipped in his grip, before he caught it and switched it on.
“I know a few, actually. I have a few numbers if you want me to send them to you?”
She nodded, “Yes please.”
“Do you have a preference as to whether it’s a guy or–”
“No.”
She passed him her phone, watching as he typed in her phone number, still watching when her own phone lit up with three notifications of contacts he’d shared with her. When he passed her own phone back to her his eyes looked less troubled. They’d cleared up, less red than they had been, and he’d clearly been glad for a distraction.
“Thank you.” She breathed, managing a smile, “Hey, you can sit on the bench now everyone’s gone.”
Nate nodded, but made no move to get up. He wasn’t entirely sure why but the thought of sitting on the chairs instead of the floor felt way too real – it’d just solidify the reason that he had a right to sit there because of someone in one of the rooms, and his very bones felt heavier at that thought. 
Milly grinned, “She’ll be fine.” 
He said nothing to that, just gestured half-heartedly at the floor, “It’s cosier here.”
***
Mia had never been so achy and sore without exactly remembering what she’d done to feel those consequences. Everything hurt: her legs, her hips, her arms, her ribs, her head – gosh, her head! It felt like she’d been laid underneath a pneumatic drill and lived to tell the tale. Her nerve endings were on fire, mostly throughout her entire body and the sheer strength of the pain rendered her…well, she was so exhausted she couldn’t really cope with being awake for longer than a minute or so.
Her eyelids would get hot and droopy, and despite how hard she tried to keep herself awake, for her parent’s reassurances, the screaming agony in her head sent her eyes rolling and she succumbed to a brief period of sleep. Still, she didn’t feel a single ounce better having napped at all. If anything, each time she opened her eyes it felt as though the pain magnified for a brief second, like her body forgot it had been pumped with painkillers and she was just experiencing all the pain she possibly could.
That wasn’t even including the odd patches of her memory, though that she learnt through what she’d been told. Apparently this game wasn’t the one they’d won by a landslide – that had in fact been a month ago, yet she could still remember going to the grocery store three days ago and even though she was pretty sure something was missing from the hospital room, she couldn’t quite find the words for it and when she’d rather blearily croaked that concern she’d been thrown a quick ‘don’t think too much right now, honey’.
But she had seen the shared glance between her parents right before she passed out for the umpteenth time.
Needless to say, she did wake up with the answer right at the front of her brain – it felt remarkably like finding a pair of sunglasses you’d forgotten you owned.
“Whe–” Her eyebrows knitted together and she peeled her eyes open to…an empty chair. Followed by an empty room.
She shut her eyes, able to still picture the blank screened-TV on the back wall, the shuttered blinds to the windows on her right and the lone lamp on at the end of the room. She’s never had a concussion before, and with the way she was feeling right now she didn’t have any plans of ever having one again, at least if it was up to her.
She had no idea how Nate functioned. 
Nate. She tried to sit herself up properly in bed, the thing she’d been on the precipice of remembering flashing to the forefront of her mind, but all the motion did was send her stomach rolling, and before she could even think, her hands found the cardboard bowl laid on her lap, like someone had put it there in anticipation of this very moment, and heaved into the bowl. The pressure in her head sent a blinding pain from the temple with the bandage over it, right through her brain to her ear on the other side and all behind her eyes. She almost passed out again right there; she could feel the blood drain from her face and the familiar whooshing feeling as though her consciousness had fallen through her body and into the mattress beneath her. Her vision went black, spotty around the edges, but for some reason she could hear the sound of a door opening and closing, the rushed footsteps that only seemed to get louder and the hushed, reassuring voice in her ear as a warm hand helped lower her back against the pillows.
She knew just from the slight cloud of familiar aftershave that billowed around her exactly who it was. She might not be able to do much, think much or remember much at that moment, but Mia could recognise familiarity. It was like muscle memory, except her brain could decode it easily.
She kept her eyes shut and screwed up, willing the dizziness away – it gripped at the base of her throat and if she could compare the sensation to anything else, it was remarkably similar to how she imagined falling through a dark abyss whilst being unrolled from being tangled in some kind of tape. The scrunching up of her eyes, however, pulled awkwardly at something stuck to her temple; it sent a sharp stab of pain right across her cheekbone and into her hairline, and before she could even register what it was her fingers had found a padded sheet taped across the side of her face.
A band-aid.
Once the dizziness had subsided, she slowly peeled her eyes open, millimetre by millimetre, as if she was afraid something might jump out at her if she ripped them open too quickly.
Nate was sitting looking very awkward in the chair closest to the bed, one of his hands holding the cardboard bowl on Mia’s lap and the other gently tugging her hand away from her bandage. 
She could see there was a brief moment when she looked at him that something had changed, a window shattered somewhere perhaps. He looked like he’d been through the wringer: hair messed up (very uncharacteristic), cheeks somehow even paler than usual, eyes red, hands shaking, and fearful.
She couldn’t say for certain why he felt the latter but she could read it in his face, in his body language. She’d never seen him look so not-okay and put-together before.
In hindsight, it was not only cruel to do what she did next, but given the events of the day and how completely naive she was to other people’s experience of what happened, it most definitely was not the best idea:
“Are you a doctor?” She mumbled blearily. Mia was never really that great at pretending to do anything, whether it was a little white lie or something just to rile someone up, but there wasn’t much pretending about how tired she was or how confused she was in that moment; the blinking and the blank stare were all real, and in Nate’s eyes, borderline apocalyptic.
See, he’d been informed of her condition and spotty memory, but no one could say for certain just what was ‘in’ and what was ‘out’ because there were so many inconsistencies and no one had really wanted to poke around where there were gaps in case it just caused more frustration than hope, so this four word question? Completely believable.
He saw Mia laid in bed, and taking into consideration what he’d previously been told, he figured it made sense. That didn’t mean to say his face didn’t drop further or his stomach didn’t plummet to the floor below or he didn’t feel the familiar twang of bile rising or the world didn’t just flip on its axis.
His entire relationship flashed before his eyes: four years, a dog, a house, two cars, dates, holidays, vacations, inside jokes, and it all crumbled at his feet with a simple question.
He’d run through it in his head, the possibility that she might not remember him quite yet, and it was understandable. He wasn’t mad at all, in fact he was all too willing to take a step back and let her recover in a more familiar environment where he was potentially isolated from her and everything he knew, but that had only been a possibility. Now it was looking like a reality and the only thing he felt was panic. There were alarms blaring in his head, loud protests, screaming, yelling, tears.
And somehow all he could do was blink the tears back and create some space between himself and her bed. Emotionally he wasn’t sure how to proceed but he could physically feel an invisible hand pushing him back against the chair, away from her.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His eyes seemed well up of their own accord, and before he could even excuse himself from the room she spoke again.
“I was just kidding.” 
He blinked, his arms freezing from where he’d gone to push himself out of the chair, and he couldn’t really bring himself to move other than to drag his blurry eyes over to Mia, his jaw clenched and his guard still up just in case she still got it wrong.
He sniffled, inhaling through his nose, and not daring to ask if she was sure. But despite looking as though she’d been hit by a bus: a band-aid stuck right over her temple with stitches hidden underneath the plastic; purple eye bags; slow, lethargic blinking; an empty stare – Mia managed to look guilty. The corners of her mouth were pulled down, and her eyes were wide, almost like she couldn’t quite believe she’d pulled it off herself. 
And if he was being honest, Nate probably would have still had a hard time believing she actually did remember him if it wasn’t for her hand. It wasn’t something specific, but she’d placed it on his knee in a hurry when he’d made to push himself out of the chair, almost as if the prospect of him leaving wasn’t something to be desired. 
She was just as scared as he was.
Nate sniffled once more, allowing himself to settle into the chair and scoot forward again. The tears hadn’t disappeared, nor had the trembling, but his heart had eased up slightly once the realisation that, no, she hadn’t lost her memory of him had sunk in.
Then, and only then, he managed to speak, “You’re such a meanie.” It was more of a broken croak that had to be deciphered than something more intelligible than he would have liked, but after she winced at the volume of his voice already he found himself glad he sounded as broken as he felt.
She tried to smile, but her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord part way through the action, and she sighed, clearly completely drained, before rubbing her closed fist in a circle over her chest.
Sorry.
He shook his head despite the futility of it, and instead took the rather chilly, limp hand still resting on his knee into his grasp, leaning further forward so he was pretty much level with her. He allowed himself to breathe for a second, probably the first time he’d managed to do so since it had happened, and even though the tightness in his test remained, even though he still felt pretty emotional, he could at least look at her – like he’d done so many times in his life already – and know she was okay. 
Up close, he could see the plaster on her temple was darker in the centre and peeling at the edges slightly from where they’d pressed it into her hair, and on the other end he could see where someone – Mia herself – had started to pick at the edge, most likely out of curiosity. There was bruising along her cheekbone, and he knew from when he’d walked into the room in the first place that she had some other bruising on her jaw on the other side of her face from where she’d smacked into the grass.
That wasn’t even mentioning the dislocated shoulder, which, for now, was secured in a sling.
He was almost scared to touch her, not quite sure what would hurt or what wouldn’t, and before he could even deliberate any of that she was blinking again. Awake. She inhaled through her nose, wincing when her shoulder moved fractionally with the effort, and came to slowly. It was as though she was surveying the room for the first time again: her eyes were curious but not wide and she squinted at the light emanating from the little lamp, and Nate had to wait patiently for her to sweep her gaze around to him.
He tried a tight smile, his hands still clutching her free one in a warm embrace, and he could see the cogs benign to turn in her mind as she remembered when he’d come in. She eyed him sceptically, but this time (before his mind could run away from him) she gave him a lazy side-eye of sorts.
He breathed a laugh at the expression on her face, reaching over to smooth some of her hair down. He made sure to be gentle, not pulling on the hair too hard or pressing down on her head – rather just let it float back over to the right side of her parting, watching it fall as he did. He wasn’t quite sure what Mia had been expecting though because when he pulled back a little bit her mouth was pressed into a tight line.
“What?” He breathed a laugh, leaning forward on his palm to flick away more stray strands of hair. It seemed the closer he got the more he noticed that no one had taken particular care in brushing said strays out of her face, because he knew, even from looking at the way her nose kept twitching, that the tickling was intolerable. 
“When can we go home?” 
Nate swallowed, unable to look her in the eye as he shrugged. Nobody had told him anything. Her parents had left and told him as much as they could but they couldn’t say anything apart from the fact that she was okay – in fact, nobody even knew he was in here. His (almost) in-laws had gone to the cafeteria, running on nothing but coffee, and there hadn’t been anyone else really around when Nate heard the tell-tale sounds of…yeah. Needless to say he hadn’t really thought twice about bursting into the room to help her. She wouldn’t have if the situation was reversed, though from experience she did tend to lie to the medical professionals and just say they were married, something that had rather inconveniently slipped his mind in his panic-fueled state.
“I don’t know.” He whispered, if the quietness of his voice could even be considered such a thing. A fairy-whisper, perhaps: delicate, blink and you’ll miss it kind thing, “You’re on stroke watch, sweetheart, I don’t think it’ll be for another day or two.”
Her eyes shut again, and if it wasn’t for the tick in her jaw, Nate would have guessed she’d just fallen unconscious again.
“Are you okay?” He’d said them before he could stop himself. They’d been on the very tip of his tongue all day nearly, and his will had worn so low that he’d just given up and given in.
In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting much of a reply. Mainly because he knew concussions were hell on earth, especially fresh ones as bad as this, but also because she’d been poked, prodded, sewn up, and asked things already. She must be sick of it all, but…he had to know. 
She kept her eyes shut but her free shoulder shrugged as best as it could, “Hurts.” She mouthed.
Nate nodded, resisting the insurmountable urge to squeeze her hand and take all the pain from her, “Tap my hand twice for yes and once for no, ‘kay?” 
The corners of her mouth twitched upwards briefly, and he couldn’t help himself when he dropped a quick kiss on the back of her hand – though he couldn’t say for sure if it was supposed to help her more or help him more. 
Tap-tap.
“Do you need me to do anything? Get anything for you?”
She seemed to think about it for a second before pointing at something on the far end of the room and tapping his palm once.
He frowned. Lamp, no?
“Lamp off?” He thought out loud, pushing himself out of his chair eagerly when she tapped his palm twice again.
The thought of using the torch on his phone didn’t really occur to him when he was blindly trying to make his way back to his seat, and much to Mia’s dark amusement he walked into the end of the bed and tripped over the legs of two chairs on his way back. 
“Anything else?”
Tap.
He waved his hand in the dark near where he guessed her arm to still be held up, and dragged his fingers up her forearm to interlock their hands like before. 
“Is the dark better?”
Tap-tap.
He sighed. It wasn’t because he was fed up – not one of those sighs – or because he was relieved, per se. It almost felt like an instinct or a habit, like when he gets into bed and manages to find a comfy position, or when he steps out onto the ice first thing in the morning when no one else is around. It was a sigh of satisfaction, yet he didn’t feel at all satisfied by anything. Sure, he was happy that he’d adjusted something to Mia’s liking, but there was so much more he wanted to know.
Where did she hurt? How much did it hurt? Did she remember last night? Is she gonna recover in time for the play-offs? 
They weren’t yes or no answers, and the last thing he wanted was to bother her. She needed the peace and quiet and the dark and cold and someone to make sure she wasn’t going to stroke like someone had off-handedly said in the hallway. Nate knew he wasn’t the only person who could give her that, but he was glad it was him sitting there holding her hand and listening intently to the sound of her breathing and the rustling of her pillow.
It sounds crazy, he knows that, but he was horrified. Less than fifteen minutes ago he was so sure something life-changing had happened that meant he wouldn’t be allowed here. He knew head injuries were unpredictable, and he knew he should be somewhat irritated for the stunt she pulled earlier, asking if he was a doctor, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be so. That one interaction had alleviated the worries and concerns he’d had – the ones that were driving him to the brink of panic attacks pretty much – more than any words anyone had spoken to him over the entirety of the night so far.
It meant Mia was still Mia, and even though she might have changed, she was still the same person. And he was going to sit with her in the dark, holding her hand, pretending he was now okay, for as long as he was allowed–
“Are you okay?”
Even in the dark his eyes turned to look at where they knew she was. He was speechless for a few seconds having thought she was asleep and stuck so far in his own head that he hadn’t even considered the alternative.
He just hummed, which earned him a meaningful tap on the palm.
No.
“It was just scary for a minute, but I’m okay now.” Then he shook his head, almost-scoffing, “I should be asking you that.”
There was a half-hearted sigh, “Been better.”
***
Mia was sick and tired of the injuries after two days at home, bed-bound by a rather strict blonde that had a penchant for frowning and putting his hands on his hips when she suggested getting up and moving around. In all fairness, she could see where he was coming from, but in her defence she needed to know she was capable of a quick lap around the house, headaches and shoulder pains be damned. 
To have gone from training numerous hours per week – per day, in fact – to suddenly not being able to cope with being in a sunlit house in a room that wasn’t the bathroom or the bedroom. She was going stir crazy, and boredom was going to be her demise, she knew it. She could feel it atrophying her soul already and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take being holed up in bed, not allowed to use screens or read or think.
Doctor’s orders. 
Although, having said all of that, Mia did find herself waking up from a nap she didn’t remember succumbing to most of the time. She must have slept on and off all day for two days, but it felt like she’d not even shut her eyes for an entire week. And the pain, oh, the pain.
Her shoulder ached each time she so much as tensed something, though that was the least of it: the dislocation hadn’t been too ugly – quickly put back in, no soft-tissue damage. Didn’t stop it hurting, though. The biggest issue, Mia couldn’t quite get a hold of. She couldn’t decipher what was the concussion, what was the temple laceration or what was the bump on the head from the ground. Somewhere along the lines, all the pain blurred into one and it just felt like her head was splitting open from the inside.
The door creaked open gently, firstly with a soft pop, like the familiar noise of when Barney would push it open with his muzzle and the handle would click out of its place, before a familiar soft pat-pat of paws could be heard vaguely padding across the carpet. It if wasn’t for Nate’s strict rule-abiding of orders (he did right, to be honest), the sound of Barney preparing himself to jump onto the bed wouldn’t have been heard. In fact, if it wasn’t for the noise of the door clicking open, Mia probably wouldn’t have blinked awake again. 
It was dark outside, the lights from the garden shining through under the blackout blinds. It wasn’t bright enough to trigger anymore headaches or a potential migraine, what with the bouncing agony from her bruises and bumps doing enough already, but it was enough to cast a sliver of dull light across the bedspread.
Mia reached out blindly, patting the duvet next to her, already anticipating the soft bark of acknowledgement before the toffee spaniel had made his way into her personal space, his nose pressed against her thigh as he laid out right next to her. She ran a loving hand through his fur.
Nate hadn’t let Barney in the room without him watching, mostly because he was a little unsure as to whether the newly-trained dog would adhere to the ‘calm’ rule he’d hoped to implement somehow, and Mia had commented on it, a quick ‘he’s a dog, they have senses for this kind of thing’, and all Nate did was sigh and watch on with a worried gaze. Needless to say, Barney hadn’t barked in her face excitedly or run across the bed or unintentionally nudged anything he shouldn’t have done, and Mia couldn’t quite tell if he was in the room now because Nate had let him upstairs or if it was just a happy accident.
Barney sniffed, and Mia paused, holding her breath in the darkness. At the same time, Barney’s ears flopped and the steps creaked, before an unmissable hiss of, “Barney?” could be heard from further down the hallway.
She felt her eyes shut again, sleep begging to reach out and pull her under again – it was the dog, he was just so warm and cuddly she was practically being lulled back to sleep with his rhythmic breathing – but she resisted, instead focusing on the hand woven into his fur until Nate inevitably noticed the crack in the door.
He didn’t say anything when he opened the door even further, didn’t say anything when he crept around to his side of the bed before pulling himself onto the mattress, the covers dipping with his weight. Barney looked up at him, and Mia felt rather than saw his hand also go to pet the dog between them.
She lifted her hand, before briefly ticking his arm to let him know she was awake, and cracked her eyes open. 
He was in his pyjamas, clearly already having showered. He’d taken to using the spare bathroom instead of the en-suite, completely adamant on not wanting to disturb Mia even though she’d told him she wouldn’t mind, and Mia knew, probably better than most people, that it was difficult to change Nate’s mind when he’d already decided what he was gonna do. 
“Did Barney wake you up?” He whispered, pushing himself further into the bedding. Mia could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, could smell the shower gel and shampoo he liked. He’d literally just gotten out of the shower.
If she had more energy she would have turned to look at him: there was something about post-shower Nathan MacKinnon that Mia found downright irresistible. In four years, she still hadn’t managed to figure out what it was, but it definitely had something to do with the flushed cheeks,  damp hair and untamed curls. 
As much as he tried to tidy it with gel, Nate couldn’t escape the fact that his hair could be wild, and in the last couple of years it had only gotten worse.
“No, I was already awake.” She whispered, the force of trying to talk still putting more pressure on her bumps and cuts. Whenever she spoke out loud it felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head and her ears were going to bleed. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world.
She turned her head in his direction, just able to make out the silhouette of his side profile: crooked nose, damp Prince hair, philtrum, mouth, chin. She couldn’t turn her head too much to the side, the lump around the back of her head making getting comfy even against a pillow difficult, yet the slight movement, slight rustle of the sheets had him almost instantly turning towards her. That was something she’d noticed that had changed: he seemed to jump at anything she did, whether it be to reach a hand out to grab her water bottle or simply turn to look at him.
She could imagine the wide eyed gaze as he scanned her face for signs of pain until he relaxed when he realised that all it was was shuffling. The alarm bells were still ringing.
There was a brief pause, and Mia took her hand out of Barney’s fur to poke Nate in the ribs. He jumped at the contact, still unused to the darkness, and grabbed her hand to stop her doing it again, breathing a soft, amused laugh, “Liar.”
“I was gonna wake up soon anyway.” 
“You hungry?” 
“Yeah.”
Mia felt herself relax under his touch, his fingers playing with hers, finding their way in the dark across the back of her hands right around to her palms before straightening her fingers and placing a delicate yet hurried kiss to the back of her hand. She didn’t even have enough time to query exactly what it was he was about to do before he’d pushed himself up off the bed, Barney sitting attentively, and placed his hands on his hips leisurely. 
“You want anything specific?” Nate asked, absent-mindedly placing his leg on the bed to stretch out his hamstring. 
“What did you have?”
“Chicken and chorizo pasta.”
“Can I have some of that, please? It sounds so good right now.”
There was a muffled sound, crossed between a sarcastic scoff and a snort of laughter, “No. You absolutely cannot have it right now–”
“No–”
“Yeah, we’re gonna do your dressing first. C’mon.”
Mia groaned, pulling the duvet back up to her chin to give her some protection before Nate would undoubtedly just rip it off her and pick her up, like he had the past four times he’d changed her dressing. The first time she did it there was little resistance from her end, mostly because she had no idea that cleaning the wound was going to be that nauseating, but also because she literally couldn’t be bothered trying to resist a hockey player that boarded men twice her size on a regular basis. 
Now, though? Not only did she despise the entire process, but she couldn’t deny the fact that being difficult was rather amusing for her – mostly because of how Nate handled it, because he handles it. She’s never heard him talk so much yet so calmly all whilst trying to scoop her up without simultaneously accidentally hurting her.
“-five seconds and it’ll be done until tomorrow, and if you think about it–”  he made his way around to Mia’s side of the bed and she felt her face screw up in dread almost automatically when he began trying to tug at the duvet she’d gripped as tightly as she could, “-if you really think about it, the food is kind of like a reward, and it’s better to get it done now rather than spend the next, like, forty minutes worrying about it–” he sighed, cutting himself off and staring at the scene in front of him. Mia knew him well enough to know stillness and silence meant he was thinking.
“What are you–Put me down.” Mia watched as Barney scurried off the bed, the duvet disappearing under him as Nate managed to force his arms underneath her body to lift her up, duvet and all. 
“Never.” He breathed in her ear before laughing like a Disney villain, managing to somehow look down at his feet to make sure he didn’t trip and cause another trip to the ER, and no matter how much she moaned and groaned, Nate didn’t put her down until he’d made it to the bathroom and placed her ever-so-gently on top of the lid of the toilet.
It was cold against the plastic, much colder than the sanctuary of the bed with a dog cuddled up to her side, and Mia shivered in her shorts and t-shirt, goosebumps arising on her skin – something that didn’t exactly go unnoticed by Nate. He took one look at her shivering and opened the bathroom blinds to let in some dull, natural light before turning around and grabbing a sweatshirt from the pile of clothes on the floor he hadn’t had chance to tidy away, what with the hustle and bustle of trying to look after everyone (not that he minded; in fact, Nate loved looking after Mia, even though he’d never voice it, but the circumstances surrounding the situation were a little too shitty for his liking), and tossed it to her.
What he really wanted to do was tell her to lift her arms over her head, but he knew coddling someone who already hated people doing things for them would only make the irritation worse, and instead reached for the basket of supplies he’d been given from the hospital, along with the set of instructions and the bowl for Mia as a ‘just in case’...the last thing anyone wanted, including Barney, was a repeat of the first time he’d done this. 
He could still picture it so clearly in his head.
When he turned back around, trying to read the pamphlet by moonlight and garden-light, Mia had her eyes closed and was running her fingers through her hair, wincing each time she accidentally pulled a knot. 
He couldn’t help watching her for a moment, almost mesmerised that someone could power through that amount of pain administered by themselves. Gosh, he loved her to smithereens.
“You ready?” He propped himself on the edge of the bathtub, back hunched over slightly to get himself eye-level with the plaster stuck to her temple. It was thick, most likely incredibly uncomfortable, and half-stuck in her hair. It was the only way the stitches into her hairline would be protected when she was laid down, or doing anything, really.
She nodded, and he kept his eyes fixated on her side profile, eager to drink in any possible changes in her expression that meant she was uncomfortable with anything he did. Sometimes it was a miniscule scrunch of her brows, other times it was an involuntary wince displayed by her mouth. He’d noticed her breathing changed when she was in pain too, which was a rather odd thing to come to recognise – watching someone you cared about hurt was one thing, but to watch them be in pain so constantly that you can recognise the little things? It was strange.
“I’m so hungry.” Was all she said, scooping her hair to the other side as he leant forwards to start to pick at one of the edges. It didn’t take much. He wasn’t even sure if Mia was aware she was doing it, but there was one edge right above her cheekbone that had been so obviously picked at that all he really had to do was grab onto the corner and slowly and cautiously pull. He kept one palm on the side of her head at all times, ensuring her hair remained out of the stickiness, his eyes darting from what he was doing to her face every few seconds.
Once he’d removed the plaster completely he folded it in half, balancing it on the side of the bath before doing something he’d not been able to do yet: dampen a clean washcloth with water, and gently dab the stitches. 
Mia’s face contorted almost immediately, the corners of her eyes crinkled and her mouth pulled up at the corners in a grimace, but she held still, keeping her gaze level and forward, hands clutching the bowl on her lap.
“Let me know if you want me to take a break or if I’m pressing too hard, okay?” Nate murmured softly, still dabbing at the wound.
He was never really one to be able to stomach the sight of wounds – at games he didn’t really have a choice, but at least then he could avert his eyes when he saw something that made his stomach turn and his head spin. This time was a little bit different, in fact, this entire situation was completely different because it was one thing thinking about it and another thing doing it for Mia. He had to do this, partly because he wasn’t about to let Mia do it herself, but mostly because he didn’t trust anyone else not to press too hard or to take as much care in the job as he did. It wasn’t a lot, but he made sure he did it right and softly.
It was the absolute least he could do after sneaking away for an hour here and there to practise. Mel Landeskog had offered to come over and keep watch when he wasn’t there, and the entire time he was gone he’d been anxiously checking his phone a hundred times a minute, waiting for a heart-stopping message to come through, and he hadn't managed to tear himself away again. The guilt was one thing, but the anxiety just ate him up from the inside. 
Tomorrow he decided he’d just work out in the bedroom – at least it’d give Mia something to watch when the TV was off-limits. 
“You’re doing great.” Mia sighed, peeling open the eye closest to him and shooting an amused glance in his direction. She was exhausted, but she still managed to find the effort bother to ease his concerns, “I think tomorrow…” She trailed off, silently hissing when Nate dabbed the laceration once more.
“Sorry.” He cringed, putting the washcloth down.
“It’s fine. Tomorrow I wanna move downstairs.” She got out, relaxing once she’d taken note of the put away cloth, and turned her body towards him.
He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with his face but it was clearly something that warranted Mia to start spouting words so quickly he wasn’t entirely sure she was able to do with that bad of a concussion, “The curtains in the front room can stay shut but I kind of want to slowly let myself get used to some light again, and I won’t watch TV or anything.” 
He swallowed, going to pick up the dry washcloth, “What’s wrong with staying in bed?”
She rolled her eyes, “It’s shit, I feel like I’m missing out on what’s going on.”
Nate tilted his head curiously, “Nothing’s going on, though. Are you trying to tell me you’ve got FOMO from staying in the bedroom?”
“Yeah. I feel like our living room is, like, the life of this house. Everything happens downstairs.” She reasoned, returning back to her usual position when he raised the washcloth.
“Everything, huh?” He breathed, slowly wiping away the beads of water on her stitches, and those that had escaped and ran down to her jaw, “Guess that means you’ll have to camp out on the couch then. Can't have you miss anything, can we?”
Mia rolled her eyes, and Nate smirked to himself, pleased that she was clearly well enough to tolerate a bit of humour. It was the most alive she’d looked since it happened: she had more colour in her cheeks, something he’d even noticed through the constant darkness; her awake periods were longer than her asleep periods, and she was speaking more. Granted, that was an improvement from that very morning, but she was getting better at a quicker rate than he’d anticipated. Every hour seemed to ease the tightness in his chest, at least until he remembered–
Yep. There it is. The painful twinge of guilt that always seemed to strike him when he least expected it.
He swallowed anxiously, suddenly aware of a breeze against his torso and the faint tugging of his cotton shirt. The distance from where he was sitting on the edge of the bath to the toilet seat where Mia was sitting wasn’t a large one by any means, but it was still tricky enough for him to sit on the very edge to ensure he wasn’t stretching – it was why he had to look down at the culprit, half-expecting it to be Barney slobbering everywhere, and was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar hand trying to get his attention.
He pulled his own hand away from Mia’s head, placing the cloth on the side of the bath once he was satisfied the stitches were dry again before turning back to Mia to give her his full attention. She hadn’t bothered to turn her head, but was instead looking at him out of the corner of her eye, brow narrowed and a slightly suspicious look on her face.
“What?” He asked, automatically wiping at his cheek, expecting a streak of dirt to follow on his palm. Nothing.
Mia just blinked, “Are you okay? You kind of spaced out for a bit then.”
“Spaced out?” He echoed, shaking his head. 
Mia hummed, something subtly changing in her expression, “Away with the fairies.”
“Haven’t heard that one in a while.” He raised his brows before letting them drop. He wondered briefly if she was buying his ‘chill’ persona at that moment, hidden in the dark with no real way of knowing what face he was pulling. His back was to the light so he knew he was mostly shrouded in darkness – protected from an observant eye.
The same observant eye that clearly didn’t let up, no matter how splotchy her memory or how much pain she was in, because he heard her tilt her head at him, he heard her brain call him a ‘liar’ and he heard her breathe an internal sigh.
“I’m fine.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. The action felt pathetic, like something a stroppy teenager might do after getting scolded. 
Her silence said everything and nothing at the same time.
“I am. I guess I’m just coming to terms with the fact that this is how awful you must feel when I’m in your position after a game.” He mumbled it, but Mia still managed to pick his words out pretty easily – as well as the blatant pretence he immediately then displayed when he turned his attention purposefully to the basket at his feet, bending to pick up a tub of vaseline before taking the lid off and washing his hands once more.
She knew enough to know that when he acted nonchalant after admitting something was bothering him, no matter how little a thing it might seem, that sometimes he just needed that extra little dose of reassurance.
“At least you can understand why I banned you from getting head injuries, then.” She answered, turning herself so she was facing forwards once more, allowing him access to the stitches.
Nate paused, an uncertain ‘meh’ falling out of his mouth, which earned him an incredibly sharp look, “I mean I can, but now I could probably guess you get why I can’t promise you anything because most of these head injuries come from other people.” He was met with silence but he could feel the irritation practically emanating off Mia. Whenever he was right in situations where they’d had small disagreements here and there, usually about some pedantic aspect like this one, she always went dead-silent when he brought up something true. It wasn’t necessarily that she hadn’t thought of it, because the chances were that she had and it was that thing that drove her crazy, but it was knowing what she was asking was completely out of anyone’s control.
“Oh, and for the record,” Nate started, carefully spreading the vaseline against her skin and fighting the uncomfortable tingling in his toes when he ran his finger over the stitches, “I’m also banning you from getting head injuries.”
“I can try.”
He grinned, “‘S all I ask.”
“Me too.”
***
Mia wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing his little…routine. 
Every time he left a room she was in, whether it was to go to another room to pick something up and bring it back or to leave the house entirely, he’d started doing some odd things. First he’d watch her – this, she noticed him doing out of the corner of her eye – like he was giving her a once-over with a pair of X-Ray goggles, no matter how far away from her he was. Then, he’d pretend to look for something, a tissue, maybe, that just happened to be within a five foot radius of where she was sitting, and he used that ploy as an excuse to ‘walk by’ and plant a very quick kiss on the top of her head.
It might not seem odd to anyone else, but it was odd to Mia, mostly because Nate was never really the type to do stuff like that, much less when he was simply leaving the room. He might have done it if she was busy with something and he was off to the gym for an hour or two, but never for simple things. He just wasn’t that type of person.
At first she’d thought nothing of it. Maybe he just liked having her downstairs instead of shut up in the bedroom in the dark all day? That was certainly plausible. 
But then each time he did it, the action seemed to become more noticeable. Like when you hear something irritating in the background – a bird or a screechy voice – and then when you try to block it out your ears seem completely intent on honing in on that one singular thing until it becomes so glaringly obvious and unignorable that you just can’t stand it anymore. The only difference was that Mia could tolerate it, she could definitely tolerate it, in fact she welcomed it. Not only was it a rare and casual display of affection, but it was rare that they’d both be off work for this length of time and be in the house together. 
It was usually an impossible juggle of calendars and flights.
Then, because she’d noticed his little routine, she waited for it. There were a couple of times where he’d carried it out before he even announced he was leaving, a couple of times where he said where he was going first, and then – most interestingly – there were several occasions where he’d stepped out of the room, not said anything, frozen a step out of the doorway and come striding back in with intent and purpose before kissing her on the mouth or cheek depending on what she was doing. It was like he physically couldn’t stomach the thought of not completing his ritual.
It was remarkably similar to his behaviour on game days: he had a minute by minute schedule and order to do things so deeply ingrained in his mind that completing one thing slightly differently would throw everything off completely. He’d obsess over one thing and he wouldn’t be able to focus properly until he’d done it ‘right’, or he’d take it as a sign something bad was going to happen. 
One time he’d almost burnt the chicken in the oven and managed to assume that because he’d eaten burnt chicken (Mia had argued that it was charred nicely – properly done) that his pregame coffee wouldn’t have the same effect and he’d accidentally let his bowels go on the ice, and he’d be worrying about it for the entire game.
There was also the habit he’d taken to performing on Mia’s matchdays, at least when he was there to do it. He’d wake up around the same time Mia did and he insisted on filling her water bottle ready to go and he insisted on seeing her out the door (a kiss accompanied with a rather humorous but altogether fond, “kill ‘em”). If she was being completely honest, Mia found more familiarity in his behaviour this time around with her pre-game thing.
“Alright, come on.” It was Nate’s voice as he threw his car keys up and down, the metal jangling as he somehow materialised right in front of Mia, holding a hand out for her to grab. 
She paused, staring for a moment before following his arm to his face, raising a confused eyebrow. 
Come on? Come on where? As far as she was aware they didn’t have any plans, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to have plans considering her brain detested any kind of light brighter than a golden, dim one you might find in a lamp – and that wasn’t even mentioning noise. Anything louder than Barney’s huffing was a no-go if she wanted to have a headache-free day, and that very much included talking.
Nate had never been so quiet around her before, and she couldn’t deny the fact that it was amusing to watch him go to talk before remembering he had to whisper. He’d open his mouth and make a noise, the first sound in a word, and immediately clamp his mouth shut and hunch his shoulders, almost wincing for Mia. 
“Hospital.” Nate murmured softly, splaying his palm to encourage her to take it, and Mia’s mind went blank.
It must have showed on her face because Nate swallowed, the smile on his face diminishing, a rather helpless, “Remember? Your stitches are getting taken out today.” 
“Oh. Yeah.” Mia blinked, the lie shockingly falling out of her mouth before she could catch it, “And today is…”
“Wednesday.” Whatever trace of a smile was left on his face that hadn’t already been wiped was completely gone, replaced by concerned brows and a flat line of a mouth.
“Yeah.” Mia didn’t say anything else, mostly out of fear of stressing him out even more, but partly because she wasn’t sure what else could be said.
She reached for his waiting hand, the warmth from his skin seeping into hers, and it was only as she’d stood up – perhaps a little too quickly because the blood rushed to her head – that she could recognise the look on his face was a little more familiar. He was still getting used to the usual worries of watching someone else heal.
“Confusion and brain fog is pretty normal, y’know?” He framed it like a question, but they both knew he was reassuring the little voice in both their heads that screamed something deeper was clearly wrong. Mia just nodded, accepting the baseball cap, eye mask and sunshades he’d just handed her, trying her best not to wobble when he ever-so-carefully tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
There was something about his close proximity that she’d had to endure within the last few days that subtly changed something for her – maybe it was the vulnerability of this entire ordeal; she’d reached a new level of Nate having to look after her considering the fact that she was almost fully dependent on him. In her eyes a switch had been flicked somewhere, and their relationship had just rocketed upwards in intensity. Every little glance he’d snuck at her, even if it was just to check to see if she was okay, and every little thoughtful gesture he’d carried out, all combined with the closer proximity and steady, reassuring hand made her feel a little woozy in a completely different way.
It was why she hurriedly put the cap on so she wouldn’t have to look at him, because she knew what those damned pale blue eyes were doing, and also why she didn’t bother asking about the eye mask, although the use of that became abundantly clear when she climbed into the car.
He wanted to hide the sun for her.
***
“What about your memory? Has any of that changed for you yet, or do you still have those same holes we identified earlier?” 
Mia winced, taking the hand offered to her and squeezed, determined not to look like she was in too much pain. The doctor that was removing her stitches was doing an alright job (she thought at least, she couldn’t say she was an expert), but there was something almost nauseating about the tugging she could feel on the side of her head, especially with how sore and tender her temple already was. 
And the questions weren’t helping, not at all. 
She inhaled through her nose, fighting to keep her voice even, “Some of it’s changed, I guess.” Nate squeezed back three times, “I can remember more of that morning and the lead up days, but I still have moments where I…it’s brain fog, I guess.”
“Oh, yes,” the doctor voiced, and the lack of shock and concern in their voice almost had Mia raising a celebratory fist, “that’s understandable and expected, just as long as it wasn’t anything too important or too obvious?”
“No, I just forgot what day it was.”
The doctor let out a low chuckle, “I think we’ve all been there. There’s nothing like showing up for work on your off-day because you’d been so busy you forgot to check the date. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”
“Tell me about it.” Mia muttered under her breath, almost deaf to the low laughs from both sides of her as she kept her eyes screwed shut. The blinds in the room were all open, and to top that off the doctor had one of those head torches on, the light glaring even through her closed eyelids. It kept bouncing around her vision as they moved their head, presumably to look at the tray to their right and then to look back at Mia’s head and so on, and she could feel the familiar niggle of something start to prick at the back of her head.
“Okay, stitches are out. Just one moment and I’ll shut the blinds for you.” She felt her own shoulders deflate of their own accord, the tension quite literally seeping out of her once she heard the wheel of the office chair followed by the pair of footsteps walking towards the windows.
It was only when the room appeared to be enveloped in darkness that she opened her eyes. Nate had the stitch-care pamphlet in his hand again, a pen in the pocket of his shirt, and even as the doctor was explaining the next steps for care he wasn’t opting to write much down. Mia half suspected he’d already done extensive research and memorised the care leaflets anyway, but he was always gonna be drinking in information from someone more qualified than what his laptop told him.
The grip he had on her hand had loosened, and the more she looked at him, Mia could see that it was his shoulders that seemed to be tense. It almost looked as though her uncomfortability had been passed directly to him because he was sitting pinstraight in the chair pulled up and he looked so dead serious Mia felt the urge to poke him in the ribs. Let him know he needed to chill a bit more.
It wasn’t anything the doctor was saying, in fact, it couldn’t have been anything the doctor was saying because that body language and that stern, rather timid look on his face didn’t let up, not even three hours later when Mia had curled up on the couch and Nate had taken residence wedged at the other end with a bowl of food – Mia’s to be precise. He’d given her too much and she couldn’t finish it without thinking it was all gonna come back up later, so he’d hoovered up the last of it.
He still looked on edge about something.
So she poked him with her foot, toes meeting a solid thigh.
He chewed, the muscles in his jaw working as his neck snapped to look at her. There was a slight crack in his demeanour then, that brief moment where he thought she was getting his attention for the worst kind of reason, but it had dissolved before she could dwell on it too much.
“Why are you being weird?” She asked, tilting her head and faking an overly suspicious glance that had him freezing right where he was.
His eyes darted across her face, seemingly searching for something to grab on to, but when he came up with nothing he finished his mouthful and shook his head, fiercely denying her accusation.
“I’m not being weird.” He mumbled, a crease between his brows.
Mia pulled a face, “You’re being so weird.”
“How am I being weird?”
Mia gaped, eyes darting to his bowl when his hand trembled and his fork clinked against the porcelain. That one little weakness was enough proof because he blinked at his hand before almost comically turning towards Mia, his cheeks a little red.
“That for one.” Mia pointed out, “And that thing you do when you leave the room, what’s that about? And you were being super weird at the doctor's appointment the other day.”
He huffed a laugh, still staring at her incredulously, “Aren’t you chatty today?”
“I feel so much better.”
“Can tell, you haven’t shut up.”
“I’ve got, like, two weeks of talking to get out of my system, don’t I?” She paused, taking a breath, “Even so, you haven’t answered my question.” Another foot poke.
He hesitated, before ultimately deciding to put his bowl on the coffee table in front of them. Mia watched every move carefully, a hint of foreboding settling in her bones as he reached over to mute the TV. She thought breaching the topic of Nate’s weirdness wouldn’t bring this level of wracked nerves, or this unreached height of seriousness – there wasn’t anything she was aware of that warranted him to do all of those things and then also turn to face her.
“Okay, so, you know how you couldn’t remember stuff after the head injuries, and then you said you could remember stuff at the hospital?” 
Mia nodded, cemented in her spot, unable to say anything.
“How much do you remember of the night before?” 
Mia had seen movies like this: whenever a character asked a question of that gravity with that grave, worried expression on their face, there was always a catastrophic confession coming next.
The difference between those kinds of movie scenes and this one was that Mia remembered the night before. And none of what she remembered would require this level of…solemnity. At all. Absolutely none of it.
She came home from work, they both talked about their days, a movie with dinner, then bedtime. Nothing spectacular.
“Everything.” She said, and this time it was her turn to frown, “Why?”
Nate inhaled, scratching his chin unsurely, before looking her straight in the eye, and with a completely flat voice spat out – with conviction – “I think we’re fighting.”
Mia waited for a moment, just the one, thinking maybe he’d say he was joking or he’d take it back, and when it became clear he wasn’t going to, she laughed.
He had to be joking.
And the fact that he let out a few breaths of laughter himself made her think that he was, but all of that came to a grinding halt when he shut up and instead patted her shin sympathetically, no trace of amusement on his face whatsoever. 
“I’m being serious, sweetheart.”
Mia sighed, the aching in her head returning. The headaches from the concussion had started to subside lately, and the stitches on her temple were healing nicely, it was just the bump that still ached from time to time, from where she’d fallen on the ground. The lump was still there, it was a bit more stubborn than her shoulder and everything else.
“You think we’re fighting or you know?”
He shrugged, “You told me about LA and we–we fought.”
“About LA?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“How do you remember it?”
***
“What did you say?”
Nate froze, the blood in his body going cold at what Mia had just said, and so offhandedly, too. Like it wasn’t this big thing that could change things. Mia had her back to him, licking some honey sauce off a finger before putting on the oven gloves and placing the tray in the oven.
“I told them I’d think about it but I’m gonna say no.” Mia practically rolled her eyes.
In what world would she have said yes? Really. She couldn’t even begin to picture a new life in LA, and for that the answer she’d given them on the phone then and there was a sure ‘no’. She knew without even having to talk to anyone else or think too much about it to know what she was going to do. It had really been that easy.
And, rather naively, Mia had assumed Nate would also have known that.
Only, when she spun on her heel after shutting the oven door, Nate had a strange look on his face: he’d come from a full day of training in the gym so naturally he looked a little haggard anyway – pink cheeks, tired eyes – but that didn’t explain the deep furrow between his brows or the fractional tilt of his head or the unpursed mouth. No, that all equated to confusion, Mia had seen him wear that exact face before. And in this case, his confusion pertained to that of her own loyalty. 
He breathed a short laugh, a ‘huh’, and Mia put one hand on her hip, raising a brow.
“Why?” His voice was tentative, but there was a hint of curiosity that Mia dreaded to wonder the cause of.
“Does it matter?” She heard her voice waver, pitch higher and her metaphorical hackles raise in defence. 
She’d never felt that before with Nate.
He shrugged, moving to sit on an island stool, hands clasped together in front of him, forearms pressed against the marble. His hair looked blonder in the harsh lighting, almost blinding, and when he looked up to speak Mia had to avert her eyes, “Not necessarily,” there was a ‘but’ coming, Mia could sense it, “but what were the conditions?”
Mia shrugged, “Three years to start and a bit more money.”
“How much more?”
Mia felt her eyes widen, “Not a lot. Why are you so interested in this?”
“Because you’re my girlfriend and I love you and I want to know where your head’s at.” He blurted it all out after one miniscule moment of hesitation, it couldn’t have been more than half a second, and if it weren’t for the way his hands fell flat against the marble in a display of clear honesty, Mia might have thought he had an ulterior motive.
His contract only had one season left, too. It was a pretty damn odd time for two athletes in Colorado, especially when both of their futures were kind of up in the air. It went without saying that Nate wanted to stay and Mia wanted to stay, but there was also that incredibly slim chance that neither of them did, and they were both a little too afraid to even broach the subject of what would happen if someone got to stay and the other didn’t.
And whether she realised it or not, the ‘can I think about it?’ that had fallen from her mouth when she’d first gotten the LA call – even despite knowing the answer already – had been because of that. She needed a contingency, she needed to go to Colorado with proof that she was wanted elsewhere if she wanted to fight to stay.
And if it weren’t for his hands then, Mia would have stayed at her own side of the counter. Instead, she made her way around to him, pulled her own stool out next to his and twisted her body so she was facing him, her knees knocking gently against the side of his thigh.
“I want to stay in Colorado. I love it here, I have my family, I have my friends, teammates, a dog, you. I have an entire life and the last thing I’d want is to leave it all behind for more money in LA. We’re not exactly short of it in the first place, and it’s not my priority.” She said, as firmly and as gently as she could muster. There was a lull, Nate looking at her carefully, chewing the inside of his lip.
His eyes were darting across the planes of her face as though he was searching for hints of something he’d never find. It was only when she stuck her tongue out at him that he leant on his elbow, his head pointed in her direction.
“And your priority is…”
“Me, I guess. I want to be happy.”
He nodded, “And you’re happy here?”
Mia smiled, “I’m happy here. In Colorado. In this house. In this kitchen. On this chair. With you.” 
It was almost as though the smile on his own face was there without ever really being known to him; the corners of his mouth were turned down but his face was smiling, as though the blush on his cheeks had frozen the rest of him.
“With me?”
“I’m surprised too.” 
***
“Yeah, and then you didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night and you left without saying goodbye and the next time I see you you’re on a hospital bed.” He threw his arms up in a questioning manner, a deeply confused half-smile, half-scowl as Mia recoiled, having severe difficulty in trying to understand his perspective.
“I didn’t ignore you, okay? We were watching a movie and I was tired.” 
Nate spluttered, briefly turning away before turning back to face Mia, who was now grinning like she knew something he didn’t, “What about in the morning?”
“Easy explanation.” Mia shrugged, “I told Iona about the LA offer and she called me at six in the morning to get me into the office to finalise contract terms with Colorado.”
Nate opened his mouth, about to say something before he stopped. He was about to ask why he wasn’t woken up, but at that exact moment his brain seemed to digest the latter half of what was said.
Finalise contract terms with Colorado.
And then he was talking without his brain really knowing what he was saying, “Wait, you finalised a contract with Colorado?”
Mia nodded, “Yeah. It’s pretty much the same deal as what LA offered.”
“How similar?”
Mia raised a mischievous brow, and Nate knew what was going to be said next was about to blow his mind. When she looked at him like that, something was gonna happen, and he felt his heart quicken for an entirely different reason than what he’d become used to lately – anticipation. The good kind.
“Five years and a little bit more per annum than what LA offered.”
He blinked. Heart beat six times before he found the breath in his lungs and the voice in his throat, “Five years?” His voice wavered completely against his will, it came out all breathy and mushy, and he wasn’t in control of his own bodily reactions to the load of relief that had cleared itself from his shoulders, not even when he felt his eyes begin to prick with emotion again.
Mia’s smile diminished at his reaction, it didn’t disappear, but the edges were a little softer, more understanding, perhaps. She’d been through a lot lately: hospital appointments, days in bed in pain, meetings with her people, recovery plans, and the one thing she’d been able to rely on this entire time was the big softie sitting right in front of her, getting uncharacteristically emotional at the prospect of her signing on for another five years.
And Mia knew how his mind worked. He’d probably been preparing himself for some part of his life to change, whether it be him moving out of state or Mia moving out of state – so much so that he probably hadn’t been able to let himself even think about both of them staying. There had been a countdown in his head for months.
“Yeah.” She answered, reaching out to grab his forearm. Somewhere in the midst of the clarification conversation he’d turned to sit straight, limbs locked against his torso and hands placed neatly in his lap. She pulled the nearest forearm over to her, using as much of her strength as she could possibly muster, listening to the aching of her shoulder and patting him to get the message across, and he turned his head to look at her again, a watery smile on his face as he lifted his shoulder up and tugged her into his side.
“I’m proud of you, y’know?” He pressed his forehead to the corner of hers, incredibly mindful of any soreness that he knew to still persist, and slumped against the cushions of the couch so he was more laid, legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him.
Mia rolled her eyes fondly, comfortably adjusting herself in his embrace. Even with a short sleeved t-shirt he was warm – kind of like a massive human teddy bear. Always a great hugger, something she’d actually missed the last couple of weeks, “I haven't signed the contract yet, I was a bit preoccupied after the match.”
She felt him pull away, and when she turned to look at him, his eyes had cleared, that familiar bright blue almost dazzling in the light, and he wore an expression of chagrin, “Hey, I know we talked about it earlier, but you’re really not allowed to get a head concussion again, ever. That shit’s way too scary.”
Mia just levelled him with a knowing expression and he read it easily, muttering a heartfelt, “Congratulations, honey. You’re stuck with me for another five years.”
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drowning-rat37 · 7 months
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☆ Mia/pvr9ing harm reduction and after care ☆
☆ps.- this is not tips on “how to do it better”, this is tips on how to not hurt your body too much while doing it. I am in no way suggesting anyone starts doing it, i am just saying if you are already doing it, try to stay safe❤️❤️❤️
☆anti-acids: if you’re planning to pvr9e, take a couple before you eat, it’ll reduce the acidity of your stomach acid, which in turn reduces the level of enamel loss and tooth decay as well as reducing the trauma on your oesophagus from the acid
☆short nails: if you use your fingers, keep your nails short to prevent scratching/cvtting your throat. Having short nails is also more hygienic as (even if you keep your nails clean) the underside of your nails can carry a lot of bacteria, (this is mainly found in children but has been known in adults) can carry types of worms under the nails. If you have long nails or false nails i recommend going on the utensil route
☆hand sanitizers or antibacterial soap: if you’re adamant that you don’t want to cut your nails short, clean under your nails thoroughly with hand sanitizer and wash ALL OF YOUR HANDS with antibacterial soap to avoid getting ill. Another thing to address about getting ill: you may think “if i get ill/sick then I won’t eat as much” or “i’ll be throwing up so no need for pvr9ing” in theory, great. In reality, it feels awful. I used to think that sort of way and then ever time i got ill i would feel like actual death, just stay clean and hygienic please🙏🙏🙏
☆water: after pvr9ing your body gets extremely dehydrated, make sure to drink enough water, also I recommend alkali water to reduce acid reflux. Take small sips every couple of minutes as to not make yourself feel more nauseous than you probably already are!!!
☆electrolytes: if possible, get yourself a drink with electrolytes or you can also get sachets that are sugar free and put that in water. In another post (i think i tagged it as an update post to a different post i have put a picture of some electrolyte water i bought, i really like that brand)
☆warnings: bl00d, feeling like you’re about to pass out, legs shaking, hands shaking. If you see any of those signs, take a break or stop all together, I’ll get into each signs in detail in a second.
☆utensils: if you’re not using your fingers, keep your utensils clean, weather its a toothbrush or cutlery or something different. Also please use something you know you can easily hold onto to prevent choking on it or letting go of it. If you’re using cutlery, find plastic cutlery, im not talking about the cheap flimsy ones, im talking about the thick type you can get from ikea or other places, make sure it’s rounded in the side you are putting in your mouth, again to not cause trauma to your throat. I can not stress this enough: use👏 something 👏 you👏 can👏 easily 👏 hold👏 on👏 to
☆tools: this is a follow up from the utensil. Please try not to use medication or other methods to induce vomiting, it is extremely dangerous. I have seen a lot of people (specifically on a certain clock app) talking about putting large amounts of salt in water and drinking it to induce vomiting, i can not stress this enough DO NOT DO THAT, it is so incredibly dangerous and by far the most unpleasant way to pvr9e. This is coming from someone who has tried almost ever way, including the salt method. It can cause long term health issues to consume that much salt even if you vomit it back up, there will still be a large amount left in your system which can lead to high blood pressure (which if you are pvr9ing often may already have) and generally if you are going to that extent to pvr9e, take a break from doing it, even if it is hard!!!!
☆food/chewing: make sure that what you’re eating before you pvr9e you chew really well, if you swallow large chunks, it will be hard to get up and you have a chance of choking and it will not be good and is very scary. Bread is especially hard to get up. Some foods should definitely be avoided, such as hard crunchy foods like tortilla chips/crisps, they are sharp once broken and in the time it takes for you to eat, then pvr9e, your body will not have broken it down enough and it WILL hurt coming back up. Try to stick to soft or quickly digest-able foods to avoid pain and trauma to the throat.
☆follow on to the warning signs ☆
☆Bl00d: if you pvr9e bl00d, genuinely stop, i know you might not want to but to avoid damage, stop. If it is anything above a few drops, I greatly suggest seeking medical attention asap. Give yourself a week or two to recover from that, it will be hard but it’s whats best for harm reduction!!!!(this is a very scary thing to experience, the first time it happened i was terrified however as you can see, i am alive, i didnt die although that still doesn’t mean you should just ignore it)
☆feeling like you’re about to pass out/ hands and legs shaking: believe me, you do not want to be found on the floor after pvr9ing. If you’re shaking, take a break, weather its 10 minutes or a couple days, take a break. If you feel shaky, that is a sign you are going to pass out, again, take a break. Sit down in a place you know you won’t hurt yourself if you do pass out, have a drink and rest for a moment!!! I know you don’t want to hear the “listen to your body bull shit” but in cases like this it is vital if you are genuinely trying to avoid permanent damage or injuries of any kind!
☆Thank you for reading, stay safe. My dm’s are open if you need help or advice. If you need to reach out to your local helpline don’t hesitate, you’re weak for reaching out for help!!! ☆
@mamabearwonders
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Note
Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)
My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)
Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)
Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).
Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]
ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!
- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer
Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.
Malady: a disease or ailment.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.
When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.
He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.
Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.
Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.
And you better fucking eat it.
He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).
Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).
Will take care of you either way.
Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.
Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.
Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.
Will lend you his notes.
Will also take them back after a few days.
Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.
He's trying his best, okay?
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Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.
Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.
Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing
, but he'll understand right?
Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.
Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.
You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.
But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.
You're being babied now.
He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.
Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.
Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.
If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]
Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.
This guy will do anything for you. <33
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Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.
Will cook your favourite food.
Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.
Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.
He's got a soothing voice I just know it.
And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.
Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.
Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.
Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.
Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.
Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.
Will make you feel as loved as possible.
Because that's what you deserve.
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Brittney will be appalled.
How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?
She's gonna yell at them.
Or fight them.
Maybe both.
Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.
She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.
You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.
And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.
Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.
Other than that can't offer much.
Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.
Will probably give you a massage when you get better.
Idk she gives the vibe that she would.
Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.
She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333
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Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.
Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.
She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.
Stays with you for days on end.
You've become her priority now, after all.
Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.
Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.
She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.
She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)
You're more than glad to have her.
And she to have you.
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Hyugo will be astounded.
You? Got sick?
Why?
Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)
He's at your home, with everything.
Literally everything.
Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.
Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.
Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.
Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.
Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.
Will make food for you.
Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).
Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.
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Deryl will be SHOOKETH.
He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.
You're his only priority now.
Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.
You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.
You're getting squashed.
Will be asking if you're okay 24/7
Until he realises he forgot to bring food.
Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.
Like RUNS.
HE WILL RUN.
HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.
FAST!!!!!
Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)
He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).
Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.
Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.
Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.
Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.
And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).
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xstarkillerx · 8 months
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brian who has his little passenger princess in the skyline ☺️ she’s all pretty and doe eyed with the mini skirts and bras for shirts with his jacket but she’s HIS and everyone knows that. wins a race and fucks her silly in the back
Not be evil, but I'm lowkey sooooooo happy you didn't use the word "girlfriend," because it gave me this idea about being "the pretty fuck toy Brian picked up in Miami to fuck Mia out of his system," and I can't resist a little draaaaamaaaaa
Thinking about the way you're everything Mia isn't; soft, sweet, doe-eyed, god you probably worship the ground Brian walks on, don't you? Some hot older guy with a cocky attitude and a fast car who fucks that little body so fucking good, gives you his jackets to wear when the car meets run late and the nights get too cold for those slutty outfits you like to wear. Brian who'll carry you into his house when you fall asleep in his car, Brian who was never weird about letting you spend the night after he fucks you, Brian who cracks jokes over the breakfast you made in his kitchen the morning after. Brian who can bring himself to do everything BUT make it official with you, because in the back of his mind there's Mia, in Los Angeles, whose life is in shambles because of him.
Oh you poor baby, you poor, sweet little girl you have no idea do you, that he lays awake for hours feeling awful that you're in his bed again because he sees the way you look at him, like you're waiting for something, it's the same way Mia looked at him too. Fucking figures that it doesn't matter how different you two are, the way you dress, the way you act, they way you speak, what fucking coast you're from, a smitten young woman looks like a smitten young woman and it makes him so guilty sometimes he could vomit. But does he stop? Fuck no, that pussy's too good, too tight, the ego boost of having a pretty thing in his passenger seat too tempting. He's screwing you over baby, but he won't leave before you do.
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treason-and-plot · 2 months
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“There you are!” exclaims Kaleb to Mia as she rejoins him next to the dancefloor. His voice is loud and raucous, booming over the music. “Where did you go?’
Mia clutches her Bellini tightly in her perspiring palm and gives a shrug. “Nowhere.”
“Anyway, guess what!” Kaleb continues shouting at her. “The guy I was talking to before? Nathan? He owns a couple of prestige car dealerships and he’s doing really well. Except his website sucks. The layout’s totally unresponsive, the branding and the colours are all off, and the navigation’s horrible. So I talked him into letting me custom-build a completely new site for him! He’s coming to see me on Monday at 11 am. That’s an easy two grand, baby!”
“Congratulations,” says Mia. "Wow. Two grand. I could only dream about making that sort of money."
“Don't worry babe, I’ll buy you something nice next week to celebrate. What about a new handbag? Or some shoes?”
“I don’t want anything,” says Mia.
“You’re saying no to shoes? Are you okay? Actually, you look a bit pale. Maybe you should lay off those drinks. How many have you had now? Four? Five? I think we’d better go before you start getting messy. I don’t want you vomiting all over my car seats on the way home.”
"That's really rude and uncalled for, Kaleb. You know what? We're finished," says Mia. "Fuck you."
"Woah, those drinks have made you really feisty," says Kaleb. "I like it. Can you bring some of that energy into the bedroom when we get back to my place? Roawarrrr!"
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joelslastofus · 8 months
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[SUMMARY:] PRE OUTBREAK. Joel takes care of his girlfriend who struggles with anxiety, depression and insecurity with being plus size.
“Now tell me, baby. This why you gone MIA on me?”
Tw: mention of anxiety, depression, bulimia.
It had been two weeks now since you hadn’t answered Joel’s calls. You would listen to the voicemails he’d leave you, asking you if he had done something to upset you.
Still, you chose to ignore it.
You had only been dating Joel for three months, you tried your best to keep your distance knowing he most likely wouldn’t want you once he knew the truth. Taking medication for your depression and anxiety, you decided you wanted to feel normal and quit them cold turkey. You thought you were feeling better at first until your thoughts slowly began to build up inside you in the worst way.
You found yourself forcing yourself to vomit after each meal, self sabotaging thoughts the second you saw your reflection, what the hell were you thinking?
There it was again, your phone ringing as you were getting ready to go to work. Joels name lighting up but you quickly ignored it shoving your phone in your purse. Leaving your apartment you headed down the stairs to find Joel sitting at the bottom step, he immediately stood up noticing you didn’t look well. You knew what he was thinking, you looked sick, pale with dark circles around your eyes.
“Joel..” you took a step back as he stepped forward.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m about to head to work-“
“You look sick”
“I’m not” you insisted but you knew you didn’t sound convincing, you could barely look him in the eye.
“Look at me-“
“Joel, I have to get to work.” You adjusted your purse on your shoulder but he wouldn’t move.
“Why don’t you call in sick today, get some rest-“
“I’m not sick” you insisted, Joel now more concerned with how fragile you looked over the fact that you hadn’t been speaking to him.
“Look I have to go ok?” You attempted to walk past him only for him to block you.
“I don’t want you driving like that,” you rolled your eyes in frustration but you knew he was right. Angrily you turned away from him walking back up the steps just as a wave of dizziness hit you. Stumbling side ways Joel quickly caught you from behind, his hand around your waist as his boot held your foot in place.
“I’m fine” you whispered but you had no strength. Slowly taking your hand Joel let your body lean on his for support.
“Can you walk?”
“I…I don’t-“
“I got you” he proceeded to position himself as if he was going to carry you but you quickly pushed his hands away.
“No,” you spoke with a bit of embarrassment.
“You can barely walk”
“You won’t be able to carry me” you responded without looking up at him.
“Is that what you think?” Before you could say another word he swooped you up in his arms making you gasp as he climbed up the stairs.
“Joel!”
Ignoring you, he stopped at your door as you sighed.
“The doors open” you mumbled as he reached his hand to turn the knob and kicked the door open.
“My god Joel” you whispered.
“What?” He gently lay you on the couch.
“I’m suppose to ignore how weak you are?” He gently held your face observing your eyes and any other signs of dehydration.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“What’s it matter?”
“When?” He repeated stubbornly furrowing his brows.
“I haven’t” you admitted shamefully as he noticed your body begin to tremble.
“You’re shaking” he quickly grabbed a blanket that was folded behind him and covered you up. This was embarrassing…never had he seen you like this before. Looking up at him you could see the focus in his eyes, the worry. Never had a man reacted this way before to you.
He silently stared down at you before walking to the kitchen and going through your cabinets.
“I don’t wanna eat” you weakly called out to him attempting to push yourself up as the trembling subsided.
“Like hell you don’t”
“Eating is the last thing I should be doing” you rolled your eyes making Joel look up. It suddenly came to him, he knew what this was about.
“Did your sister say something to you again?”
“What?” You looked at him confused as he made his way towards you.
“I heard what she said to you when I was on the phone with you a couple weeks ago, you were trying on a dress for our date” he recalled, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red.
“You heard that huh?” Your voice cracked. He crouched down before you taking your hand in his.
“Mhm. And I’m so glad you didn’t listen to her, you looked gorgeous in that dress, baby” his words making you crack a smile.
“Besides, she was probably just jealous she didn’t have a big ol’ southern man taking her out on a date” he smirked leaning in to kiss your cheek. You chuckled playfully pushing him away but he could still see the sadness in your eyes.
“Please, jealous of how huge I looked in that dress, I looked…disgusting-“
“Hey, don’t you talk like that about yourself you hear me?” His tone making you look up.
“Now tell me, baby. This why you gone MIA on me?” You nodded. The negative thoughts of how a man could put up with you and all your flaws, physical and mental…it just didn’t seem believable.
“Joel, I have serve anxiety and depression. I take medication and I decided to stop-“
“Without telling anyone?”
“I didn’t think it would affect me this bad” you began to cry, he instantly took you in his arms.
“It’s alright, baby. We’ll get you back on whatever you need-“ you looked at him confused.
“You’re not…mad at me?”
“Now I wish you would’ve come to me sooner, darling. My girl feeling like that and not telling me? I can’t have that.”
“I’m surprised you even want to be with me still.” You wiped away your tears with a sarcastic chuckle.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He raised a brow.
“I don’t know..I have a lot going on, I don’t think you’d want Sarah around someone like me”
“Like who? A woman who’s unaware of how amazing she is just because she needs some help?” You smiled looking down but he quickly bought your eyes back up to his.
“I’m not going anywhere, I don’t care who left you before. It’s their loss,” he whispered.
“You can tell your sister that” you knew he meant every word he said. He leaned in and kissed you softly until your phone rang.
“Shit. It’s my boss, I gotta say something” you quickly picked up the phone as Joel remained before you.
“Hi, Tom. I..I meant to call you but-“
“You’re late for your shift” Tom could be heard loud and clear speaking on the other end.
“Yes um , something personal came up and-“
“That’s not my problem, you need to show up there’s no one to cover for you” Joel furrowed his brows hearing his words.
“Tom, I really can’t. I’m really not well, I almost fainted and-“
“Well drink some water and have a cab bring you in, if you miss I’ll have no choice but to terminate you.” Joel’s expression quickly changed and you noticed but before you could even respond he grabbed the phone from your hand.
“What the hell did you say to her?”
“Joel!” You whispered.
“No, my girl isn’t feeling well-“ he began as he stood up turning away from you.
“And you’re threatening to fire her? Aren’t you the jackass who still owes my company a grand?” You looked up at him confused.
“Mr.Miller?” You could hear the sudden worry in Toms voice.
“I’m sorry there must be a misunderstanding, please tell her she can come in when she is feeling better.” Tom quickly hung up as Joel turned to you flipping the phone closed.
“What was that about?” You asked confused.
“Long story” he set your phone down on the table before making his way back to you.
“How about I order us some food and I run you a warm bath… how’s that sound? Can I do that for you?” How could you resist puppy eyes as he asked.
“That sounds good” you smiled. The happiness in your heart that Joel wanted to do this on his own and make sure you felt loved.
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skzprincess · 9 months
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i swear my biggest motivation is being around my literally ANOREXIC friends, like i feel so big and fat around them and everytime we go out, you can tell who is the fat friend and i hate it smmmmm, they tell me that they want my body and im like girl 💀
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
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you're on your own kid.
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You had a rough childhood, what with an absent father and a piece of shit mother. When a family dinner goes wrong, how do you stop your brain from spiraling? How do you convince yourself you're not alone? A certain blue-eyed, metal-armed avenger, of course.
Word Count: 3.3K
Warnings: Eating Disorders/Weight Related Talk, Blood, Injury, Kinda Self Harm, Child Abuse [PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!!]
Author's Note: I don't really know what this is. Sorry, I've been MIA for so long. Not my best work. Sorry.
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You squirmed in your seat, fidgeting with your sleeves. It was awkward being at home after so long. You hadn't been home for four years almost - and it had probably been even longer since you'd sat at this table. Your mother sat across the table from you - her gaze heavy on your head. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, your brother had joked.
He was sitting next to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. A placating movement. He was trying to keep the peace - enjoying the first meal that you had had as a family in a long while. You don't know what it was that made you seek them out. Maybe if you had waited a week, you would have thought about the facts, rather than the feelings. Maybe if you had waited a week, you wouldn't be sitting here with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
You sat in silence, playing with the food on your plate. Your mother was of the almond variety, weighing out plates before passing them around the table. You didn't have much to talk about. Things hadn't ended well the last time the two of you spoke.
Your brother chimed in with the odd question - 'How's your gardening coming along, mom?' or 'How's the new job, sis? What's it like working for the Avengers?'. You'd humour him until your mother's disapproving stares became too much and then you'd shut up. He'd give you a sad sort of pitying smile, before returning to his food.
Dinner was long - even it was less than the traditional three courses. Your brother packed up some extra food, and took it home - he only lived about a half mile away so it made sense for him to go home. You made to go with him but your mother insisted you stay with her. "I made up your room, just the way you like it."
You doubted it. But you smiled anyway and hugged your brother tightly. He whispered that 'you would be fine' and 'it's only one night' and maybe for a second you believed him. As soon as he left, you headed to bed, claiming that 'The trip was long, ma, I'm super tired.'
The look on her face screamed that she didn't believe you. But she waved you good night and headed to the kitchen to find her favourite bottle of scotch.
You opened the door to your childhood bedroom to find it almost the same. The pink walls and bedcovers were suffocating, the blinds drawn shut to create this overwhelming feeling of being trapped. You were. Trapped.
You took your jumper off, laid it over your vanity chair, and jumped onto the bed. It was comfortable, but lying there staring at the ceiling brought back all the horrible memories you tried to suppress. Diet pills and weighing scales, small plates and vomiting, screaming and crying, sirens and hospital bills. Tears streamed down your face as curled up onto your side.
It was almost midnight when you heard your mother walk up the stairs. You knew she was drunk - her steps were loud and out of sync, and the bottle in her hand frequently tapped the banister as she tried to stabilise herself on it. You half expected her to keep walking, cross the landing, and fall dead asleep on her bed.
Instead, your door creaked open and you came face to face with her. Her glassy eyes were rimmed with red - she'd been crying too. Her eyes raked over you and suddenly you wished you'd never come back at all.
"Such a shame," she whispered, "You could have been so much more."
"Ma?"
"You were always... the best. The prettiest. The skinniest. You could have been incredible. Instead, you are... nobody."
Her words cut deep but you tried to ignore them. You were somebody. You worked for the Avengers, you were a top-level agent for SHIELD. You helped save the world.
"I tried my best. To help you. But you were ungrateful," Your mother stalked closer, her sadness giving way to anger, "conceited, convinced that you could be anything more than what I made you. But you were wrong. I created you. Without me, THERE IS NO YOU." She launched the bottle at your head and it shattered at the wall behind you.
She kept screaming, but you tuned her out, slipping off the bed and grabbing your jumper and keys. You ran past her, shoving her hard as she tried to grab you and ran out to your car. She watched you go screaming abuse after you, telling you to 'never step foot inside her house again.' You weren't planning to.
You drove like a madman back to upstate - traffic was pretty light considering the ungodly hour. You parked haphazardly - Tony would probably murder you for it in the morning but you couldn't find it within yourself to care. You trudged upstairs, footfalls far too heavy for someone is literally a superspy, but this was your home. You weren't running from anyone in here.
You were so stuck in your own head that you didn't realise that Bucky was sitting in the living room, watching as you walked into the kitchen. He'd heard your footsteps and he was worried. You never walked that heavily.
"Everything ok, doll?"
You looked up at him, not registering a word he said. He stood up and walked over to you, fingers reaching up to stroke your face.
"You good?" He whispered, his forehead almost touching yours.
You pulled away from his touch, even though your body was screaming for you to collapse into his open arms. "Yeah, Buck, fine. See you in the morning for training." You stepped past him, heading for the stairs.
"Yeah, doll. See you in the morning."
The morning came around far quicker than you'd hoped. You had barely slept, tossing and turning all night, your mother's words ringing through your head.
Eventually, you realised it was a futile effort. You might as well get up and be productive. You found yourself in the gym just as the sun came up, face to face with a heavy bag. You clenched your wrapped fists before shaking the sleep out of your system.
Your hits were precise, measured, calculated. If there was one thing no one could fault you for, it was your skills. You were an impeccable agent. If only your mum could see that. You took your rage out on the heavy bag, pouring every ounce of resent in your body into your punches. Sweat beaded on your forehead, the exertion making your breaths heavier and your knuckles sting. You kept punching, time slipping away from you.
You heard the door to the gym open, and someone was talking. Their voice was muted, almost as if your head was underwater. Between the punches and your tiredness, nothing registered in your foggy mind. From the distance you could hear footsteps, getting louder almost as if they were walking towards you.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand brushed against your shoulder. You spun around ready to cuss out whichever stupid rookie decided to bother you so early in the morning. You were surprised to see familiar eyes boring into yours.
"I called your name, you know," Bucky said, his hands moving to rest on your waist, "twice. I even dropped my bag next to yours to get your attention."
"Sorry, I was thinking."
"I can tell," Bucky's thumbs drew circles on your waist, absentmindedly, "Where's that pretty mind been at lately?"
"What do you want, Barnes?"
"I'm worried. About you. You haven't been yourself lately. What's going on?"
"Nothing." You sighed, removing yourself from his grasp, "Missions, reports, meetings. It's tiring."
"Maybe you take a holiday? Try and relax a bit?" You could hear the genuine concern in his voice but you still rolled your eyes.
"Maybe you mind your own fucking business, Barnes? Don't you have other shit to be doing apart from hovering over me?" You grabbed your stuff, refusing to make eye contact with him, and walked out.
"I'm still seeing you for training right?" You hear him call after you, but you keep walking. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you got into the elevator.
He didn't see you for training. Or after.
You'd skipped training in favour of going on a run with Steve and then you had to file a few mission reports. You'd holed yourself up in your office, manila files piling up on the corner of your desk your fingers brushing over the keys with seasoned speed. Bucky had wanted to stop by but given your odd behaviour in the morning, he'd decided against it.
You were glad. You hated that Bucky could see right through you, even when you tried your best to hide it. Especially because you were irrevocably in love with him.
You'd been in love with him ever since you'd started working at the compound. Bucky was one of the few people to notice you and your efficiency. You became one of his preferred mission partners, a fact of which you were very proud. You quickly became one of his favourite people, period, and Bucky even went so far as to blow off Steve to spend time with you.
It hurt you to keep him at arm's length but you knew it was for the best. You remembered what your father told you the night before he left. You're on your own kid. You always have been.
You were given a mission assignment in the evening, with strict instructions of 'wheels up at 0600.' The early pickup time wasn't strange and you were itching to get out of the compound. You packed your bag up, leaving it by the door, and headed to bed.
Another restless night of sleep was the last thing you needed, but you were up and at the hangar waiting for Captain Rogers by 0600. He smiled when he saw you and handed you a coffee. You smiled. Your first real smile since you visited your parents.
"Good luck out there." A voice calls from behind you. You freeze. Bucky jogs towards you both, his eyes betraying his tiredness. Steve's face breaks into a grin at the sight of his old friend. Steve throws his arms around Bucky.
"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," Steve says, his joking tone making Bucky laugh.
"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."
You want to smile at the sight of the two of them together but you held yourself back. You walked towards the quinjet, ready to get this show on the road when you hear Bucky clearing his voice behind you.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Onto the quinjet?"
"Not without a hug, you're not." You sigh but trudge down the steps to give him a half-arsed side hug. He pulls you in tight, and whispers into your hair, "When you get back, we're gonna talk. Okay?"
You don't respond, brushing him off and climbing into the jet. Steve follows you in, dropping his bag next to yours, before turning back to wave at Bucky.
"Don't worry, Buck, I'll take good care of your girl."
His girl. That sounded nice. You shook the thought away before elbowing Steve in the sight. Jokingly of course, but he still doubled over for effect. Bucky burst into laughter.
That was the last thing you saw as the door went up.
The mission was hard. Not terrible - no one died, which was a win in your book - but it wasn't fun. Multiple shootouts, car chases, and three hours of hiding in a dumpster later, you were ready to nap for a week. But, alas, Fury had set a debrief at 8 the next morning, which meant that you had - you checked the clock on your microwave - 6 hours at best.
You dropped your bag on the sofa and headed into the bathroom. You unzipped your utility vest, dropping it on the floor. You needed to disinfect it - god knows what had stained that vest. You pulled up your compression shirt, wincing as the flecks of red came into view. You quickly stripped it off, dropping it in the washing basket, before whipping back around. You caught your own reflection in the mirror and tilted your head, taking in your reflection of your body. Your mother's words played back in your head. Maybe your mother had a point.
You quickly shook your head, dispelling those horrible thoughts from your mind. But still, you continued to stare at your body, scrutinising every feature. I mean, sure you weren't as skinny as you used to be, but that's because you had muscle now, right? And the hamburger you had for lunch was a treat - you know for completing the mission? The super important mission that you were on because you are important and you are somebody and you have value and you are someone without your mum. Don't you? And it's ok that you can't see your ribs because actually you have abs now and that's way more attractive. Right? And.. and... and....
SMASH.
Broken glass was shattered all around you, fragments piercing your skin. Your mirror now had a fist-shaped hole in the middle, from where your sadness had quickly bled into anger.
You cradled your bloodied fist in your hand, sinking to the ground as sobs racked through your body. Glass dug into your knees as they hit the floor and you curled your hands into your chest. Hurtful 'what ifs' swirled through your head, stealing your breath and making it almost impossible to breathe.
Pounding on your door broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to regain your bearings. It was 2 am. You were in your apartment, the apartment that was miles away from the compound, that you lived in alone. Who the hell would be at your door right now?
You were silent, breath bated as you waited for the stranger to go away. They banged on the door again.
"Doll, I swear to god, if you don't let me in, I'm going to break your fucking door down."
You knew that voice anywhere. The knowledge that you weren't alone, that he was here for you, that Bucky wouldn't make you suffer alone brought new tears to your eyes. Fresh sobs burst from your chest as you tried to move. Glass shards were stabbing into your legs, and one of your hands was bleeding profusely. Bucky, your safety net, was so close and yet so far.
"Doll? Doll, I can hear you. Doll, please, please let me in." You could hear the panic in his voice as he struggled with his conscience. You tried to move but the pain was excruciating. A pained scream erupted from your lips.
A loud bang came from your front door, followed by heavy and fast footsteps.
"Where are you, doll? Come on, just come and talk to me." He said, sweeping through your living room. You whimpered from the bathroom, his enhanced hearing focussing on even the smallest of sounds.
He quickly found his way into the bathroom, his eyes raking over your hunched figure, before flitting to the broken mirror and the shards of glass on the ground.
"Oh doll," he whispered, bending down to scoop you up from the floor. He cradled you gently as he carried you from the bathroom into your bedroom. "What happened, doll? Talk to me."
You looked up at him, trying to figure out where to start. You blanked. You couldn't find a good place to start the story that would cause you the least pain. Your mouth opened and closed a few times with no sound coming out. Bucky rested his hand against yours, trying to reassure you to take your time, but the sound of your wince drew his attention to your hands.
"Doll, your hands." He grabbed your hands gently, peering at your knuckles. They were mauled, glass sticking out of torn-up skin, "What did you do?" He stood up, walking into your kitchen to grab the first aid kit he knew was under the sink. Watching him walk around like he owned the place made some small part of your heart happy - it was almost as if your dreams, your darkest-held fantasies, were coming true.
Bucky kneeled in front of you, placing the first aid kit beside him. He brushed all the glass shards off your legs - luckily none of them had been embedded into your skin. He cleaned any small scratches before turning to your knuckles. The sight of your knuckles made him wince and you started to pull them away. Bucky leveled you with a look that said, let me take care of you. You let him. He sterilised a pair of tweezers and got to work pulling the shards of glass out of your knuckles. You sat in silence for a while, Bucky diligently working on your knuckles, and you watching the swiftness with which he worked.
"Why did you punch the mirror, doll?" Bucky asked after a while.
"I was angry," you whispered, your voice deathly quiet. Now that the rage was gone, all you had left was embarrassment.
"And why were you angry?" Bucky coaxed, his eyes pleading for some answers. He pulled out the last shard of glass before swiping an alcohol wipe over your knuckles and bandaging them up. He packed up all the items back into the first aid box and went to put it away and wash his hands.
You were still sat on the bed contemplating your answer when he got back. He knelt in front of you again, before he rested his hands on your face, "Why were you angry doll?"
"I didn't like it." You whispered, pulling your body away from him.
"What didn't you like?" Bucky's eyes stared into yours and you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. You tried to remove yourself from his all-seeing, mind-reading gaze, but he didn't let you. He pulled you into his lap, and you hid your face in his neck. His beard tickled your forehead as you nestled into him, trying to seek out the comfort you so desperately needed but didn't know how to ask for.
"Me." You said, your head turned away from him as you stared at your hands.
"What?"
"I didn't like me." Your voice started to shake as you tried to find the right words to tell him the truth, the whole honest godforsaken truth, but you couldn't.
Bucky seemed to read your mind, "It's ok, take your time. We don't have to talk about this today. We can come back to it later, when you're feeling up for it, okay?" You nodded, burrowing further into him, "You wanna sleep?"
You nodded again, and Bucky shifted, wrapping his arms around you so he could gently place you down on the bed. He removed his arms from underneath you and tucked you into bed, gently kissing your forehead as you turned to leave. You whined.
"Pleasedon'tgoBuck-" You mumbled, sleep quickly pulling you under. He smiled, perching himself on the end of the bed.
"You sure you want me to say, sweetheart? Not sure you'll ever get rid of me if I stay?"
"I promise. Never want you to go." You said, clinging to his arm and pulling him back into bed.
You slipped into an easy slumber as Bucky shuffled around in your room. Maybe you didn't have to be on your own anymore.
fin.
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g-on-ef · 5 months
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Goddess of Loneliness ideas
Not sure yet if I will write GoL I'm tempted so imma just dump some ideas I have and see where it goes ^^
After coming back from the states Maya is isolated from everyone
Annika becomes a little mean spirited towards her and reminds everyone she always knew Maya was an awful person and she wasn't even surprised that Maya betrayed her family
Maya doesn't say anything but is hurt that her brother and Killian don't defend her and if anything Killian adds fuel to the fire
Gareth does however by reminding Annika she betrayed her family by dating the fucker that stabbed her brother almost got Nikolai killed and almost drove her to suicide
That did not end well with Jeremy as he defensed his sister
Gareth deciding they're being unfair to Maya remins everyone that their own partners have done some shitty things to them and they were quick to forgive them but can't do the same for Maya
It ends in a huge fight between him and Killian which had Jeremy and Niko separating them before it can escalate to something worst
Mia throws a comment how Maya is still ruining their family by pitting them against each other as she Niko and Kill leave
Gareth tries to sooth her but she decides to leave to go somewhere else
What no one knows is Maya has her own little cottage where she goes to escape
Maya writes in her diary and cries of being alone
She tries to talk to her mom who ignores her her dad who claims he's busy but she knows he's not
She tries to talk to Illya but all he does is yells at her calls her selfish and throws a traumatic event that happened to her back to her face making her feel worse than she already did
Trigger warning mention of eating disorder and self harm
Three weeks have passed and Maya has been a mess
Her eating disorder is back as she overhears Annika and the rest of the Elite girls talking badly of her Mia included
She gorges down on food till her stomach is full and vomits it out
She's done this before as her punishing herself so she does it again
She use to burn herself
She goes back to that habbit
Brandon catches her doing it
He approaches her but Maya dismisses him and tries to leave
Bran doesn't leave and threatens to tell Nikolai what she is doing
Maya says she doesn't care if he knows since she's not important to him and never was
No one knows this but Maya has a beautiful voice and sings beautifully she's also a huge anime nerd bigger than Cecily
She's also a talented anime artist
She's done commissions and has made a shit tone of money from it
Hell one of her drawings is hanging proudly on Cecilys walls but Cecily doesn't know it was Maya that drew it
Maya is a swifty and an army and part of the beyhive
In order she loves Jimin Yoongi Jin Hobi Namjoon Taehyung and Jungkook
Okay her list is always changing but Yoongi and Jimin are always on top
She owns rare merch and keeps in her little cottage
Annika, Ava, Glyn, and a reluctant Cecily and Mia think she deserved to be punished so they along with Killian tore up her posters she had at the mansion along with her Taylor Swift Viynal and Beyonce shirt that was a limited run and merch she had
When she went to her room she saw the state it was and felt like crying
The merch didn't mean a lot since she had bought it in double but it still hurt that someone ruined things she bought with her own money
She quietly packed everything and threw it away
Bran saw her room destroyed and helped her clean it
Maya didn't say anything she just picked up her things and threw them out
She was grateful she kept her sign merch, the rare photocards, and everything important to her in her cottage
Bran tried to talk to her but she ignored him
Bran was getting worried and didn't want her to hurt herself
He never told Niko but he was worried for her
He asked her if she wanted to hang out with him
Maya didn't say yes or no so Bran dragged her with him to go for some coffee
Maya didn't understand why Bran was being nice to her
Bran told her it's because no one should feel so low
Maya reminded him what she did to mia
Bran reminds her what his family did to hers
Maya smiles a little and it's the first time she actually did
She and Bran start hanging out more
The two bond and Maya can safely say she made a friend
Bran can say the same
Mia isn't happy and neither is Lan
Niko is conflicted
Maya brings him to her cottage and shows him her drawings
Bran is honored to be the first on here as well as the one she trusted with her drawings
Maya is happy
Well not for long
Maya is reminded once again of the pain she caused and how she'll ruin Brandon
She's tired of the constant harassment
The constant pain
Lan especially threatens her along with Eli Killian and Creighton
Having enough Maya runs away
She leaves a drawing for Bran and only Bran and leaves
She heads to California to start a new life
She doubts anyone will notice she's missing
She destroys her phone and anything that can trace her and leaves
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makethatelevenrings · 5 months
Text
Angel by the Wing - THIRTY-THREE
chapter warnings: vomiting, morning sickness
Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)
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It was an average morning.
Rock music floated through the house coupled with the sounds of pots and pans banging around and you were bent over a toilet, breathing deeply through your nose and out through your mouth as nausea wracked your body.
“That’s good. Nice deep breaths.” Jake had popped his head into the bathroom to ask how many eggs you wanted when he found you bent over the sink with your hands clutching the sides of the counter. At first he thought you were in pain, but then the murderous glare you shot him when he asked if you were okay answered that question.
Now your hair was pulled away from your face, a cool washcloth pressed against the back of your neck, and a soothing hand ran along the length of your spine as you dry heaved over the rippling water.
“I fucking hate this,” you bit out. Tears pricked the backs of your eyes and you tilted your face to press against your forearm so he wouldn’t see you tearing up. Jake adjusted the washcloth so it wouldn’t fall off and scooted closer to you.
“I’m sorry, angel. I wish I could fix this for you.” If there was one thing Jake had learned since entering this relationship, it’s that he couldn’t stand to see you or Bradley like this. He hated being helpless. He was a fixer. He wanted to soothe your aches and remove anything that made you feel gross.
But he had also helped put you in this situation.
“Hey, hey,” he shushed you as you let out a pathetic whine. “Rooster is making some ginger tea right now and then we’re going to move to the couch. Set you up with some toast and applesauce and a bucket.”
“What if I puke on you?” you moaned dramatically.
“Darlin’, you’ve seen me and Rooster violently hungover. A little throw up won’t faze me.” You nodded in agreement with his statement and he took that as a good sign. Jake tentatively scooped you up and cradled you to his chest. Despite feeling sick as hell, you savored the feel of his warm skin under your cheek and pondered the possibility of them going shirtless every morning.
“How’s the patient doing, doctor?” Bradley asked when you emerged from the bedroom.
“‘M not playing sexy nurse right now,” you mumbled. Bradley chuckled and moved to help move some blankets over on the couch while Jake lowered you down onto the soft cushions. Jake hurried off to grab a bucket to place next to the couch while Bradley tucked one of the blankets around you and adjusted the washcloth to keep you cool. Skipper poked his head up over the back of the couch and then crawled over the pillows before he gently landed on the space between you and the cushion. The little cat curled up next to your stomach and laid his head on his paws, lazily flicking his tail while staring at Bradley in what some might call a threat.
“I’m trying to help her, dude,” Bradley muttered. The cat merely flicked his tail once more and extended a paw to lick at his fur.
And maybe show off his claws.
“Bucket,” Jake announced. “Plus tea and toast and whatever you want to watch on television. Please, please, don’t let it be Titanic.”
“Fuck you, it’s a masterful film.” But despite your protest, you settled on another classic. The boys knew better than to argue when the opening titles of Mamma Mia began. Jake instead settled in next to the bucket on the floor with his plate heaped with breakfast balancing on his knees. Bradley took up the rest of the couch by your feet. You nibbled on the toast that Jake handed you and absentmindedly pet Skipper with your other hand.
“Any plans for today?” Bradley asked once he was done destroying his mountain of food. Feeding two aviators was like turning on a garbage disposal and letting it run. You nudged his thigh with your foot and he put his plate on the coffee table so he could rub your feet.
“I was going to do laundry but I think I’m just going to rot instead,” you said. “I work at five so hopefully I feel human by then.”
“I got it,” Jake assured you. “I was going to mow the lawn and weed the garden but I can also make Roo do it too.”
“I’ll do it shirtless and everything,” your boyfriend said. He wiggled his brows salaciously and you pretended to gag.
“Thank you.” You ran your fingers through Jake’s fluffy hair. You loved it without the gel he typically wore. It stuck out in all directions thanks to the fact that he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed and you appreciated how it made him look so soft.
“Our baby,” the boys intoned. They had taken to answering your thanks with a reminder that you were growing a baby inside of you. A baby that they had been very enthusiastic participants in creating.
Bradley grabbed Jake’s plate and his own and headed towards the kitchen to clean up after breakfast. You were transfixed with the movie on screen as the bachelorette night came on. Something sparkled in your gaze and Jake felt such a surge of want that it could have knocked him off his feet. Instead, he headed towards the bedroom where three overflowing hampers of laundry cluttered up the closet.
Dumping the clothes into one large pile, he set about sorting them into different piles so he didn’t end up with pink shirts from one of your stray red socks. He also made sure to check every pocket of pants and jackets thanks to the infamous “washing Bradley’s keys” incident. He found quite a few different packs of mint gum and ginger chews in your pockets and created a little pile for the future.
He picked up your jean shorts from a few days ago and heard the crinkle of paper. He tugged it out and flipped the paper. It was an envelope and he knew he should just place it on the dresser and let you deal with it but the hospital’s address was written in the corner. He shouldn’t read it. He knows better. But you had been avoiding talking to him and Bradley about something. They both could tell.
His fingers were extracting the letter before he could stop himself.
He unfolded the paper and found a bunch of letters filling the page. Jake didn’t understand a single word written except for two things.
Alleged Father: Seresin, Jacob
Probability of Paternity: 0%
Bile rose in his throat and burned along his tongue but he pushed it down. There was another paper behind it and he extracted the second page with numb fingers.
Alleged Father: Bradshaw, Bradley
Probability of Paternity: 99.99998%
Did Rooster know? Was that why he asked about leaving this place? Was that what you two whispered about? Was that why you shared smiles over Jake’s head, like he was outside of a joke?
What happens if the baby isn’t his? What happens if the baby isn’t his and you two decide you don’t need him? That you don’t want him? Can he handle that? Can he handle this dream being shattered?
His mom was just trying to help. Jennifer saw the possibility when he couldn’t. He was so fucking stupid.
Jake tossed the papers onto the dresser and headed into the closet to grab his duffle bag. He needed space. He needed time. He needed to figure things out.
You couldn’t push him out of your life if he walked out first.
Tag List:
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idontplaytrack · 2 months
Text
How much do you want to bet?
Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader(+ big sister Regina)
Warnings: angst, fluff, sick fic, coarse language, slight descriptions + mentions of vomiting & sickness, angry Regina
Regina calls Janis for help late at night due to an inconsolable reader who was sick and miserable
Other parts: One / two / three
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(Photos used are from Pinterest & Auli’i’s TikTok[deleted])
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Regina was alone. Again and with you. Except this time, you were sick. You’ve caught a stomach bug and were feeling absolutely awful. It was a little after nine-thirty at night. Regina’s tried every remedy she knew to help you eat something or get some fluids into your system but they never stayed long enough before you regurgitated them. Helpless, she gave up on her ways and let you just sit there in your bed. You were terrified of laying down because of the possibility that you would throw up again and end up making a mess if you didn’t get to the bathroom in time. Or the trash can on your floor for that matter.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Regina carefully rests her palm on your stomach underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, hoping the warmth provides you with some relief. You just look at her, unable to speak for fear of bursting into tears for the second time that night. Regina sighs softly, heart breaking at this pitiful sight.
“It’s going around in school.” You croaked after a few minutes.
“I know, that sucks.” Regina says, “Do you want me to go get you a heat pack, so we can put it on your stomach? It’ll probably work better than my hand.”
You shook your head no, shifting uncomfortably, “Where’s Mom?”
June was…off in Florida, to avoid her life right here in Chigaco. And at the worst time possible.
You chewed your lower lip, it was quivering, “I want Mommy, Reg.”
“She’s not answering her calls, baby. I’m sorry, but I’ll keep trying, okay?”
To Regina’s surprise, you managed to nod off while she stepped outside to make a particular phone call. First, she tried to dial June’s number again just like she’d promised you she would. But this time, her phone wasn’t even on. She definitely did this on purpose, turning her phone off. Regina hesitated, but was at her wit’s ends: she phoned Janis.
“Janis, are you free right now?”
“Yes…” Janis answered warily, “Why?”
“y/n’s sick and in pain and crying for Mom but she’s MIA somewhere in Florida — her phone’s off so I was wondering if you could—”
“What?” Janis shrieked, “My God, I’m on my way.”
“Drive s—” Before Regina could respond properly, Janis hung up the call and was rushing here.
Regina stood in the doorway of your room, leaning against the wooden frame and watching you sleep. She stayed there the whole time until Janis pulled up twenty minutes later. Regina lets her in. “Could you keep an eye on her for a minute? I’m gonna go use the restroom.”
“Of course.” Janis agrees, taking two steps at a time up the flights of stairs while Regina went ahead to the bathroom.
“Still can’t contact your mom?” Janis asks quietly when she saw Regina coming upstairs.
“Nope.” Regina sighs. “I’ve never seen her this upset, I hate seeing her like that.”
“How long has she been asleep?”
“Oh, thirty minutes I think. Probably the most she’s slept at a time all day.” Regina answers, arms crossed.
“Still no water intake?”
“Not since right before this whole thing started.” Regina confirms, “That cold glass of water went in and came back out warm.” Regina shuddered. “Should we take her to the hospital? Get an IV or something?”
Janis chuckles dryly, “I…think we let her try something in a solid form. Popsicle or ice cubes. She would definitely start crying again if we bring up the hospital. Usually, it’s just a 24 hour bug so let’s pay attention and hope for the best.”
“Good luck— she didn’t want any of it.” Regina sighs exasperatedly. “Work your magic, maybe she’ll listen to you instead of me.”
“Go to bed.”
“And leave you alone for the next six to seven hours? ‘Imi’ike, I’m not heartless.”
“Well…” Janis joked.
“Fair.” Regina smirked. “You wanna eat anything, help yourself. I have a very angry text to send to my mother.”
“I’m good, thanks though.” Janis replies, sitting down casually by your door and went on her phone.
“Are you feeling like you’d be getting sick soon?”
“No, I really don’t think so. I’ve been very careful about washing my hands and not touching my face when I saw those people at school getting sick. I also have a way stronger immune system, luckily. How are you feeling?”
Regina’s eyebrows were raised in shock, but she masked that pretty well as her usual smirk after. “I feel fine, I usually don’t get sick either. But if the heavens want to torment me, they can feel free to do so after y/n recovers.”
“Knock on wood, Regina. Be careful what you wish for.” Janis warned. “Is Cady okay?”
“Yeah, the rest of the gang seems alright too. She’s the first one in our circle to get it.”
————
“Reg?” You said quietly. “Regina, I need—”
You quickly heard footsteps approaching your room but not of someone you expected. “Hey, you’re awake.” Janis smiled at you, “What do you need?”
You kicked off the blanket, slowly getting your legs off the bed. “Uh— why are you— why are you here?”
“Regina called me.”
“For what? I—”
“Don’t fight it.” Janis looked at you, “Let us take care of you.”
“I don’t want to get you sick too.”
“I don’t get sick, I’ll be fine.” Janis spoke in a tone that immediately shut you up. That and the fact that you were feeling like utter crap. “What do you need?”
“The bathroom.” You stood up unsteadily. Janis put her arm around you to give you the support you needed to make your way there. “Now, how are you feeling?”
“Stomach hurts. I’m not that nauseous anymore. Very thirsty but I’m scared I can’t keep it down.” You answered, slightly irritated. She feels your forehead, “Did she give you fever meds?”
“Not after I couldn’t even keep water down.” You spoke. Then before she could even say a word, “Scratch that, gotta puke.” You made u-turn for the bathroom again and barely made it to the toilet to spill the contents of your stomach.
Janis seethed, “I’m sorry, honey.” She rubs your back and made sure your hair didn’t get in the way.
Meanwhile downstairs, Regina was going batshit crazy. “Fuck!” You groaned, finally feeling okay enough to back away and sit down. “Can you go check on—”
“I’m not gonna leave you here alone.” Janis crouched down and then sat next to you.
“God I’m so tired.” You mumbled, on the verge of tears.
“I might have something for you that could help.” Janis held your face, “It’s in my car, I’ll go get it.”
She scurries away to go get whatever it was. You dragged yourself back to your bed, staring at the bottle of water on your nightstand, tempted.
As you attempted a sip of it, Janis returns with a little snack container. “My Dad buys this sometimes when he goes back home, he says it helps with a bunch of stuff including nausea, so, here— take this and just leave it in your mouth and let it sit.”
You took the li hing mui from her and just popped it into your mouth. You recognised it, she always had this with her and she was always snacking on it. “I’ll keep the rest of it right here, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Did you try some water?”
“Like, a sip.” You told her, voice muffled due to what you had in your mouth. Regina shows up in your room next, “You couldn’t get her on the phone?”
“No.” Regina shook her head, sad. Like, actually sad. “How’re you feeling?”
“I threw up again, but what she gave me helps.” You shrug, leaning back against the headboard. “What time is it?”
“A little after midnight.” Regina answers. Janis settles down next to you. “Go to sleep, Reg. Forget I even asked about mom, there’s no point anymore— she doesn’t care about me.”
Regina’s face fell, she hated that she couldn’t get Mom on the phone for you. She hated that she couldn’t deliver her promise.
“Can you try drinking a little more water, baby? Please? Keep that in your mouth and just drink, be careful though.” Regina hands you a new bottle of water.
You complied, wanting nothing more than quenching the thirst now. But still, you took only cautious sips to make sure you didn’t make things worse for yourself. After finishing about half the bottle you set it down and made sure the plum in your mouth was entirely dissolved before you allowed yourself to sleep. Even then, you could feel Janis and your sister watching you like hawks. You couldn’t take the feeling of having eyes on you so you shot back up and told them, “Don’t keep looking at me.” It came out in a whine though— you couldn’t exactly control that.
“Okay, I’ll be in my room, alright? Do you have everything you need?” Regina asks, ‘Minus Mom.’ She thought to herself.
“Yeah. Good night.” You replied dismissively, however while Regina leaves the room like you’d asked, Janis did not budge.
“Nice try, I’m not leaving ya.” Janis smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, of her own accord, she dipped a rag in a bucket of water and put that on your forehead after wringing it dry. You were not happy about it.
“Get away from me, I don’t want you getting sick.”
Janis sighs quietly but doesn’t say anything about that statement of yours. “Close your eyes.”
You did so, cuddling with that carnival prize she won for you.
“Attagirl.” She smiled, relieved that you seemed significantly better at the moment. “G’night. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?”
“M’kay.” You mumbled then drifted off to sleep.
————
You woke up one time that night thanks to a sudden pang of insane nausea that had you clinging to the toilet but nothing came out of you since your stomach was practically empty.
“Don’t cry, honey.” Janis rubs your back attempting to soothe you.
“I feel like shit.” You sniffled, “Why am I so nauseous if I have nothing left in me?!”
“You wanna get back into bed?”
“Yes.” You looked up at her, absolutely tired of this night.
“Okay, c’mon.” Janis helped you up and back to bed. “I got you, honey. You’re okay.”
She sits with you till you fell asleep.
In the morning, you were alone in your room. But you did feel more…like yourself. You washed up and headed downstairs to locate your sister and Janis. “Hey.” Regina spotted you almost immediately. “You seem like you’re feeling better.”
“My stomach’s not hurting anymore, but I’m still having a fever.” You shrug.
“Take an Advil.” Regina hands you the bottle, “I’m making you some soup.”
“Where’s Jan—”
“Shower.”
“Okay.” You sat at the kitchen island and slowly dipped on your glass of water for awhile before you swallows the pill.
“You wanna take a shower?” Regina asks, “She could help you with that.”
“Oh, no, no. I’ll do that on my own.” You gasped, horrified by the idea of Janis seeing you that way.
Regina laughs, “Okay, but only if you’re sure you’re not gonna pass out or something.”
“I’ll be okay.” You exhaled harshly. “Hey, Reg?”
“Yeah?”
“How— how out of it was I?” You asked.
“Eh…not too bad.” Regina says. “Cried a little bit but I get that. You were always like that when you’re not feeling well.”
“Good god.” You groaned, “I’m sorry.”
Regina squinted, “Don’t apologise for that. You were going through a lot lotta crap last night. How’s the pill doing?”
“It��s…fine. Staying in my system this time.”
She chuckles, “Good.”
“Are you good? Do you feel sick?” You ask.
“Nope. We’ve been very careful: disinfecting everything regularly. After tonight, I’m deep cleaning your room: changing your sheets, wiping down everything, cleaning your bathroom. The works.”
“Okay—”
“Hey!” You heard Janis’ voice, “You’re up.”
“Hi.” You turned your head to look at her.
“Here, eat up.” Regina pushes a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you.
“Thanks, Reg.”
Well, everything was as good as it could get now. You were glad you were finally out of the worst part of it.
“I think you’ll be good to go back to school Monday.” Regina says.
“Yeah.” You agreed, “I think so too—”
The doorbell rings. “Open up, it’s Mom!”
“Oh, boy.” Janis grumbled.
You nearly choked on your soup and just abandoned your spoon as it clanked against the bowl. You glared at Regina, mouthing, “Why?”
“Because apparently she doesn’t have keys anymore.” Regina scoffs, flouncing toward the door. “What?”
“Well I thought I should come back and take care of—”
“Don’t even. You should’ve picked up as soon as I called you. You’ve got no excuse not to answer.” Regina lets go of the door, walking back into the foyer. June pushed her way into the house.
“Well I’m sorry but things have been really rough.”
“Rough? Rough was me having to work to make sure we don’t just have barely enough to pay to keep the lights on, to eat.”
“I send you the money for bills.”
“What—” Regina scoffs. “Rough was last night when I saw her so pale and throwing up and sobbing for you. She was crying for you to be there for her. To hold her and tell her things are going to be okay. Money isn’t everything, Mom. So the divorce was hard, do you think it only affected you? I may be your oldest daughter and capable to earn some money to make sure we don’t use up all of what you gave for bills. Surprise — she needs you and so do I. Now, more than we ever did. It was supposed to be the three of us against our problems. Not me and her against you and our problems.”
“Why is Janis here?”
“Why is that your first question?” You spoke up, “Why didn’t you pick up?”
“I’m sorry—”
“How much are you willing to bet that if I called your phone right now, it’s going to ring?” Regina glared at June then was dialling said phone number. “I knew it. You avoided us on purpose. Forget it, Mom. Go, go travel all over the country trying to avoid everything instead of caring for your kids who need you. Next time you’re back here, you won’t see us anymore. I found me and y/n a place away from here, we’ll move out soon. This place? There’s no use holding onto it. So, go have fun. Let the kids worry about life.”
“Well I’m here now.”
“After a whole year? You don’t look very willing to me. Be honest— you want to turn and leave. Look at yourself in the mirror. He’s not worth your time and energy, Mom.”
“Don’t come crawling back when your actions have already made it clear as day that you do not care anymore. You’re the grown up, why are we always left alone, always ignored by you?” You walked closer. “Why couldn’t we have gotten through this together? I don’t know how to trust you anymore, Mommy.”
“Baby, let’s take some deep breaths and calm down, okay?” Janis puts her hands on your shoulders, “I don’t want you to get too agitated right now.”
“Baby?” June’s eyes went so wide they might as well have popped out of her head right then and there, “Last I heard you two hated each other’s guts. Now what, suddenly she’s kissing your sister?”
“She stepped up when you couldn’t last night. No questions asked: held her hair back, rubbed her back, rubbed her stomach, held her close, fed her water, took care of her. Zero hesitation. We tried your phone for hours and you didn’t even bother responding with a text.” Regina growled. “That tells me everything I need to know. She’s a good person, and you, you have some work to do. And you better do it fast, pull your shit together, see a therapist, whatever. Life is tough, but if you’re going to wallow in self-pity, you’re not going to get anywhere.”
Janis led you upstairs, not wanting you to stay in that environment any longer. “I wanna take a shower, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, of course it is.” Janis chuckles lightly, “Do you want me to help you?”
“I think I’ll be fine. I just wanted to make sure someone knew I was in the shower in case, you know?”
“Mm, yeah.” Janis nods, brushing the slightly sweaty hair out of your face so she could see it better, “You go ahead, I’ll get you your clothes and your towel, hm?”
“Kay.” You agreed, finding the energy to smile back after hours and hours. But hearing the yelling still ongoing downstairs, you flinched when a voice got particularly loud.
“You’re okay. I’m right here, baby. Just focus on your shower, nothing else. I’ll be right here with you. Okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded, taking in a deep breath, “Thanks, Janis.”
“No problem, honey.” She squished your cheek gently, making you laugh. Then you got up and went into the bathrooms while she remained in your room.
Luckily, when you got out, the yelling had stopped. So you could relax again.
“You good?” Janis studied you. “Better, yeah.” You confirmed, quickly going to sit down on your bed.
“That’s good.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Yes.” Janis assured, “I swear. If I’m ever sick, you will know because I will look as pale as a ghost.”
You giggled, “Alright. Thanks for coming over even though it was so late last night.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Janis grins, “One call or text, I’m here immediately.”
“Wait— you changed my sheets?” You realised.
“And we disinfected everything.” Regina appeared.
“Oh.” You jumped, startled.
Regina stifles a laugh, “Sorry. Anyway, Mom won’t be back until we’ve moved out. So you don’t have to worry about her coming over and me yelling at her.”
“You really found a place for us?” You asked.
“Sure did.” She confirmed, “It’s a lot smaller than here of course, but plenty of room for the two of us. With my savings and the fact that I’m working, we’re gonna do perfectly fine. Oh, and Cady’s gonna move in with us too. So Janis, you’re definitely allowed to come and go as you please, but if you want to move in too, the four of us, well technically three of us can share all the expenses. It’ll probably be an easier load this way.”
“How many bedrooms is that?” Janis asks.
“Two bedrooms. One bathroom’s connected to a room the other’s in the hall. You two could definitely share a room then I’ll do the same with Cady. I saw the place and it’s pretty spacious.”
“Tempting. But I probably won’t, I’ll definitely be there a lot though, obviously.” She says, gesturing to you.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Regina smirked. “Anyway…I’m glad you’re feeling better. Are you hungry yet?”
“Actually, yeah. I am.”
“That’s a great sign.” Regina’s face lit up, “I’ll go prepare some rice and soup. Start light, okay? We’ll move on to other stuff tomorrow depending on how you feel after this meal.”
You sulked.
“Come on, just…take it easy on your stomach right now, baby.” Regina couldn’t help but crack a smile, “I’m willing to bet it’s still sore.”
“Yeah…” You answered, head slowly leaning on Janis’ shoulder.
“I’ll be downstairs, you two just do whatever you want. Yell for me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.” You sigh falls from your lips, “Thanks, Reg.”
“You’re so welcome, baby.”
Janis chuckles to herself, her arm winded around your waist gingerly, “Still sleepy, babe?”
“No.” You muttered.
“Are you sure?” She teased, “Lunch is gonna take her thirty minute at least.”
Your lips tug into a crooked smile as you snuggled closer to her. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure, y/n.” She says while rubbing your back, “Are you gonna let me get up to go grab the remote or do I have to carry you with me?”
You laughed, hiding your face in her chest for a second, “I’ll move.”
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💭A/N:
This one got way longer than I expected it to, but I wanted to show Regina and Janis getting along, and of course, June(finally)
I’ll be ending this mini serie in the next part of two. :’)
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skythighs · 4 months
Text
Calista's Dream: Spit on your Lips
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All art from Pinterest. I'll link at the bottom of this chapter.
Warnings: Mentions of pedo Vladimir Harkonnens tastes. Spit kink and sexual content. Also, there is mention of puking and vomit. 18+ only please 🙏🏽
Word count:2.3k
Chapter 7
After the night Feyd apologized for the consummation ceremony, things became different between us. Instead of avoiding me, he sought me out often and vigorously. He would spill himself into me twice in one go always. It was like he would become frenzied like he was compelled to. He also took it upon himself to train me in combat. 
“When we sparred you were too focused on striking quickly and moving away. I want you to focus on killing blows. On Giedi Prime any fight you’ll have will be to the death. You must learn to kill, quickly and efficiently before your size becomes an advantage for your enemy.” 
“And if I can’t, kill so easily?” I questioned.
“You will, because when your life's on the line, you’re not you anymore. You’ll become your baser self, you’ll become an animal trapped in a snare.”
“An animal?”
“Yes.” He hissed into my ear with his blade pressed into my neck.
Days turned to weeks, and I found myself learning quickly under his instruction. Admittedly, there had been times our fighting turned carnal right on the floor of the training room. There was a wildness in his eyes when I fought him. When I bit him and scratched him and did everything I could to beat him he would grow hard on top of me and then he would fuck me into submission.
The Baron would invite me to the necessary public appearances, but beyond that, I was kept away like a dirty secret from the public eye of Giedi Prime. I had not received any correspondence from Caladan, and I knew they were being kept from me. I was currently navigating the treacherous corridors to meet the Baron to discuss my concerns about the matter. My personal servant, who I named Mia, was currently cleaning the chambers I shared with Feyd, so I didn’t bother to ask her to escort me. Outside of the Barons quarters I’m stopped by two guards who question me about the unexpected visit.
One steps inside to relay the message and then I’m granted access to the large room. On the bed in all his grotesqueness was Vladimir Harkonnen and two disturbingly young hairless boys. Looking at them further they look startlingly like my husband and something clicks into place in my  sub consciousness. They lacked Feyd’s lean muscle but there in the eyes and the lips the resemblance was stark and undeniable. 
“My lovely Princess Atreides, how kind of you to visit me.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t simply a friendly calling.”
“Oh?” he smirks at me, enjoying me witnessing his slave's petting and kissing him.
My stomach churned with bile and acid burned the back of my throat. I swallow it down and continue.
“I haven’t received any letter from my family in the time I’ve been here. I’m curious to know if perhaps they were misplaced somehow.”
“Ah, you’ve been here for some weeks now, and you never sought them out before. I thought perhaps you were too preoccupied with my lovely Feyd to care.” A scheming glint lit his eyes, and the pupil nearly reflected the low light in the room. 
He was a predator. A wolf disguised as a gluttonous man. Over indulgence was a mask he hid behind while he plotted against his enemies. Me being one of them. 
“I would very much like to be in contact with my family. I’m sure they are eager to hear how easily I’ve transitioned here on Giedi Prime. How welcoming you have been.” The words slipped from my tongue and only after speaking them do I realize those words could be taken as a threat.
“Indeed I have been most welcoming to you in spite of the blood in your very veins. You’d do well to remember that girl.” He swatted his boys away and leaned as far forward as his bulging belly would allow.
I nod stoically knowing better than to poke a bear in his very own den. 
“Tell me, has Feyd succeeded in putting a child in you yet?”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. He sounded so invested in our bedroom business it disgusts me and the familiar churning amps up in my stomach.
The chamber door opens abruptly and the devil himself waltzes in looking struck at the prospect of finding me here, with his uncle. He struts up beside me staring me down with an unspoken promise. Without a word to me he looks at Vladimir. 
“Uncle. Why is my wife here?”
“She’s here for the pleasure of my company Feyd or do you not believe such a thing to be possible?” Those gleaming eyes looked at Feyd from head to toe.
“Don’t be sensitive now old man.” Feyd chided unfazed by his uncle's antics.
“Nevermind that. Have you succeeded in planting your seed inside of her Feyd as you were instructed?”
“Instructed?” I speak aloud without meaning to.
Feyd tenses beside me, not looking my way or responding.
“She will be seen by the physician in two days.”
“I see. Report back with the results lovely Feyd, I’ve been told your darlings miss you greatly.”
That was indeed the final blow to this match between Vladimir and I. He reigned victorious, and I was left bleeding on the floor. I once again felt like the hollow husk of a girl that remained after the consummation ceremony. 
“Oh and princess Atreides?”
I move my eyes from the floor to look at my enemy.
“I’ll have those letters delivered this evening. In the future you need only ask the nearest slave.” He smirks at me knowing full well this round went to him.
I nod and excuse myself from the room like a bat out of hell. Once out of view of his quarters I bend over and empty the contents of my stomach until I’m left retching and dry heaving. I can’t breathe. I can't breathe. A pair of powerful hands find me in my corner of solitude. 
“Breathe Calista. Breathe.”
He was pressed against me, one arm wrapped around my middle and the other wrapped around my hair pulling it away from the mess. I continued to dry heave, but he stayed right there holding me up. He was the only thing preventing me from crumbling to the floor. I felt off, I felt vulnerable and I felt disgusted with the realization that Vladimir Harkonnene lusts after his own nephew.
“Why did you go there Calista? Why?”
He spoke with urgency and I feared he was on the verge of being pulled too far. 
I sit up and face him, and he wipes my vomit away with his bare hands totally unfazed.
“He was keeping my letters, so I went to confront him about it.”
He looks at me intently, digesting my words before it seems he was more the Feyd I knew again. He nodded his head knowing I was close with my parents.
“I will only tell you this once. Never show up to his chambers again. Never face him without me. Do you understand?” 
“I do.”
“Have you only been with me so often to-”
“Don’t let him twist you. Don’t let him make you weak. You should know better, little Duchess.” He interrupts. 
“Answer me plainly, Feyd. Is what he said true? Were you ‘instructed’ to be with me that way?”
With that he jerks me by the arm and pulls me all the way to our chambers slamming the door behind us. Before I can blink he pounces on me, punishing and possessive. All teeth and biting, all  sucking and bruising. I can’t think. I can’t think, but it’s not fear holding me hostage. It’s him. His very being. His touch against my skin awakened a deep beast that had been dormant my entire life.
“DON’T TOUCH ME.” my voice rings out between us and he follows my instructions against his own will. I had never used the voice on anyone besides my mother in practice. I was just as stunned as him, but I needed to know the truth. 
We both stand silently looking at the other, our chests moving at an equally wild pace.
“I need to know Feyd. Did he make you do this against your will?”
I was terrified of the answer. If he said yes I don’t know how I would live with that knowledge.
“He ordered me to breed you, yes. But you are mine to do with as I please. I would have bred you regardless of his instruction. You are mine by law and by right. He needs to feel in control and sometimes I allow it.” He admits.
I stare at him digesting his words. 
“Did you truly want me? Are you just doing this so I can be a broodmare for your house? So we can fill these halls with little Harkonnen children?”
He approaches me slowly then and I wait for him to strike a venomous blow. 
“You belong to me...I should be beneath your skin Calista, I should be so deep inside you no one could pry me out. Our children will be living proof of our joining and I will relish in it because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to truly living inside you.”
It was a blow indeed, but not venomous in the slightest. Perhaps it was twisted and a bit bizarre but it was also beautiful. 
I reach out my hand to him and he seizes me and devours me with his pillow lips. I think this was his own version of love. Though I can admit I could never picture him professing his undying love to me, this felt much the same. Actually this felt even better. His obsession with me is clear, as clear as my portrait staring at us from across the room. The portrait that proves he wanted me before he knew me and now that he had me he couldn’t stand to be separate from me. He wanted the living proof of us to grow within me and be born to walk these very halls. 
“I want you too, Feyd. Even on Caladan before I could identify it. I wanted you.”
“No more talking.”
With this he tosses me onto our bed, making the world spin around me. He can’t be bothered removing my clothes from my body before he lifts the skirt of my gown up tucking it beneath my back. My underclothes are ripped away. I’m left lying on my back but he rotates my hips just so, so that my ass will press against him. He enters me without warning or any preparation and the sting hurts so good. He’s brutal as he pounds into me. Like he was trying to pound in the words he wants me to believe.
He failed to realize he didn’t have to. I believed him. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t even speak. The entire bed bounced off the wall with each thrust. He ripped the top of my gown open so he could watch my breasts bounce in tow with him. He leans down and takes my nipple into his wet warm mouth. I feel his saliva slap against my chest as pulls away. His teeth are the next thing I feel. On the other breast when he bites me harshly reveling in the whimper that leaves me.
His hand grips my face feeling like unyielding metal. He makes sure our eyes are locked before he speaks to me.
“Don’t ever use the voice on me again.”
His grip hardens on me, causing real pain to bloom and my eyes to moisten. His hand moves from my jaw to my hair and he tugs harshly making my chin jut forward. 
“Open your mouth my sweet pet.”
I do as he asks, opening my mouth hesitantly, unsure of why he was asking such a thing right now. Before I can deduce his reasoning he spits onto my bottom lip. While looking me in the eye daring me to complain.
“Lick it up pet.”
I do as if he used the voice on me. My own body obeyed him without my consent.
“Good girl. Open wide this time so I don’t miss.”
I do. I open wide so that when he spits again it lands right on my tongue and he groans at the sight.
“Swallow Cali.” His shark eyes are blown wide. Only the deep dark black that is his pupil remains. Not even a rim of blue could be seen and it was a haunting sight. However instead of fear I felt fascination that I could bring this out of him. He licks his thumb wantonly before I feel it probing at my puckered hole. He uses more spit to make sure it was wet enough and pushes his thumb all the way inside me. Moan after moan spills from my lips and I feel my eyes roll back into my skull.
“Look at me Cali. Look at me.”
I find him again with my eyes and I clench around him so tight.
“Who am I Calista?” BANG BANG BANG, goes the headboard against the wall.
I don’t know what he means, I don’t even know my own name anymore.
“Who-”
BANG
“Am-”
BANG
“I?”
BANG
“You’re me.”
I whisper out as if parting with the deepest darkest secret between us. A secret I knew existed since the first moment we were alone together those months ago on Caladan. We were one. 
“You’re me, and I’m you Feyd.” Tears flow from my eyes as I cum with him. His cum felt endless as he continued to thrust into me and I felt myself losing my grasp on reality before blackness absorbed me into a peaceful slumber.
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