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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

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the lakes (12) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

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7.9k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, extreme mental health issues, suicidal ideations, gore/violence/death, self-hate, allusions to trafficking, use of explicit language, more angst, mentions of vomiting, dissociation, terms of endearment, unedited, no use of y/n, a codependent couple with a shared savior complex, paranoia

When you'd realized the monkey mutts had stopped where the beach began you wanted to collapse into the sand in relief. All you could do was stare on as Peeta tried to comfort the Morphling woman who'd sacrificed herself for him before her body was raised from the waters. Even if Plutarch was supposedly in on the plan, it seemed like the arena couldn't wait to kill you all off as soon as possible. The conversation switched to finding food, another thing your brain couldn't care less about. You supposed you should be from all the running, fighting, and sweating, but you just had a huge pit in your stomach as you thought about how Finnick could have died not long ago.

It had always been a possibility that you were very consciously aware of, but the imminent threat wasn't really present. You had no qualms that he would be able to protect himself, yet he hadn't been able to when the fog came rolling in. Well, he would have been able too if hadn't come to Peeta's rescue, but to get out, that was a requirement. Adrenaline has kept you going after that, when the monkeys attacked, but the dread filling you now was like lead.

“Hey," One of Finnick's warm, calloused hands cupped your face, “What's going on, sweet girl?" His face had that endearing always somewhat cocky smirk on it that was a permanent source of comfort in your life. But you just stared at him, at those ocean eyes you would drown in if given the chance. The look in his eyes shifted to one of higher concern, “Are you hurt?" He looked up and down your figure, looking for sounds, tilting your head to see the back, looking for signs of infection and grew more concerned when he found nothing to send off alarms. “Angel, you gotta tell me what's wrong." He urged.

You tried to blink yourself out of your stupor, "Nothing just wanna be with you.”

"You are with me.”

"Yeah I know.” He looked at you suspiciously, but knew better than to push. You grabbed this hand and he squeezed it, pulling you along as he went on his search for oysters. When he was sure he found a spot and began his digging you sat down in the water. Letting the soft waves ripple across your legs, if you closed your eyes you could pretend to be home again, this was so similar.

“I'd never leave you alone, you know?" Finnick's voice brought you back from the fantasy and you looked at him quizzically. He was still digging through different areas, of course the oysters were in such unnatural places, that was a reminder of how fake the fantasy was. "I'd always come back to you. You don't have to worry about me leaving you behind, or making you feel abandoned.” You looked away, staring at the glistening waters once again. There was no words you could think of to say, you wondered if you were still in shock, it felt nothing like how it had been described, but maybe this was all some weird, fucked up trauma response the universe had left you with as further punishment. Your mind was blank of anything other than how he, your amazing, smug, caring, generous, loving Finnick could actually be taken from this world and it would keep on spinning without him. Then his hand grabbed yours once again and he effortlessly pulled you from the water to walk with him back to Katniss and Peeta.

You laid your head on Finnick's shoulder as everyone began to eat. He opened one of the oysters up and offered it to you, but you just shook your head. There was no room for hunger, no room for anything except trepidation.

He shook his head back at you, “You need to eat." Finnick offered it back to you, he was so bossy and it made you love him even more.

“I'm not hungry, Finn." You knew you were exposing yourself with the nickname, which you only used when you felt most vulnerable, but it slid off your tongue so easily in the moment.

“You're gonna talk to me now?" He asked playfully, trying to lighten the load. You scowled at him, lightheartedly elbowing him in his side and he laughed.

“You're so mean to me." You burrowed your head back into his shoulder.

He scoffed, “I just put all my effort into a monologue of my devotion to you and then you decided staring at the waters which are in front of us all the time was more interesting.”

He was right of course even if it was all in jest, but you weren't going to let him win regardless of that fact. “It was hardly a monologue-" He turned to you abruptly, you frowned when your head lost contact with your shoulder but he grabbed your hands in his.

“I don't understand why you have cared about and loved me so deeply, except in the way that I know that's how I feel about you. You being here is the bane of my existence because I know that there isn't a day I could live without seeing your smile or sweet domesticity. You don't understand why I want to protect you so badly, but it's the same way you want to protect me. There isn't a universe where I could leave you when I know you need me, I married you as a promise that I would always return to you, protect you even if you're stubborn and here anyways. Death couldn't part me from a world that you were still in.” His sea green eyes were so serious and it did reverberate within your heart, but you still let yourself laugh.

"You are such a sweet-talker.” You announced with an eye roll, knowing he was right about how you felt. Except maybe selfishly if death parted the two of you, the only assumption you had made was he'd find someone else, some other smarter, braver, prettier partner who only couldn't compare to you in their adoration of him, but maybe that was a stretch as well.

“And you are impossible to please." He quickly packed your lips which left your yearning for his honey-dripping lips for seconds longer, if you suffocated with them on your own it would be the happiest you'd ever be. “Now eat, my love." You could melt into the sand thinking about how this man would pour out a heartfelt monologue just for you to leave your head long enough to eat, he was perfect, there would never be anyone else like him, and there never had been. He was it for you.

Screams interrupted your thoughts and you instantly stood up, “That's new." Peeta said as he rose as well, you all stood, staring across the beach where water seemed to be overflowing a portion of the jungle. Flooding that rushed from the trees and was so tall it was as high as the Cornucopia that bounced against, leaving large waves to rush up your feet. A drone came to pick up a body and it solidified in your brain that regardless of what Plutarch had planned these were never meant to be long Games, nor particularly violent with all the events occuring.

“Someone's here." Katniss said sharply, quickly pulling out an arrow, ready to shoot. You looked at the figures approaching from the jungle, not too far away. The aggressive motions of one of the figures nearly instantly told you who it was.

“Johanna." You whispered out and then Finnick was running forward.

“Johanna!" He shouted, catching her attention. You followed after him as she yelled back at him. Beetee and Wiress instantly run into the water when you realize Johanna’s figure was so obscured because she was covered head to toe in blood.

“Oh my god, what got you?" You asked, there was no way that much was hers or even someone else's. It was clotted in her hair, her skin, each piece of fabric.

“We were all the way, deep into the jungle where I thought it was going to be safe. That's when the rain started, I thought it was water, it turns out to be blood. Hot, thick blood, coming down. It was choking us! We were stumbling around, gagging on it blind.” Johanna signs through her explanation, ignoring Wiress’ mutters of tick, tock, tick, tock. Which you push away as well as just Wiress being Wiress. “That's when Blight hit the forcefield, he wasn't much, but he was from home.”

"What's wrong with her?” Katniss asks about Wiress, still muttering.

“She's in shock." Beetee is washing the blood of his glasses in the sea water. “Dehydration isn't helping, do you have fresh water?"

“We can get some."

Wiress is clinging to Johanna, desperately repeating her mantra. Who's trying to shove the older woman off, for most of you this is just the dynamic that's been accepted. You've each accepted a role to maintain relationships with one another, Wiress the crazy one, and Johanna the aggressive one. Katniss is put off and runs to Johanna, ready to fight.

“Hey what're you doing?" Johanna yells, Finnick trying to pull her away as you try to get between her and Katniss. “I got them out for you!” They're finally ripped apart when Peeta has his arms around a visibly confused Katniss. "Let go of me, Finnick!”

"Let's just go get you cleaned off.” You tilt your head walking with her and Finnick into the water. "I'm sorry about Blight.”

"Yeah.” She says gruffly as she dunked her head into the water, blood instantly beginning to spread into the once clear waters.

"And I didn't really get to thank you for saving me earlier, so thank you, Johanna.”

"Well I'm sure he would've killed me himself if I hadn't.” She nodded her head at Finnick. “Better go make a better impression with the Girl on Fire over there." She rolled her eyes, stalking over in that direction.

“Deep down she appreciates a thank you." Finnick's wrapped his arms around you from behind and you sway in the water. You hummed in agreement, just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. What you would give for this to be the two of you in your kitchen back home is immeasurable as well as the things you would do to get that back.

“Were you serious though?" You blurt out, forcing yourself to acknowledge your feelings with him. There's a beat which you figure must be confusion as he tries to figure out what you're referring too. Before you have a chance to add on, he'd seemingly figured it out though.

“Of course I was serious. You don't have to worry because you're not gonna get rid of me that easily, angel." He chuckles, his lips pressed to the side of your head. You nod slowly,

“Thank you." You mumbled out, embarrassed that you'd even let the anxiety take over, but also not completely convinced. It felt shameful that no amount of words or actions was seemingly able to convince the deepest parts of your soul of anything but the worst.

“It's a clock!" Katniss yelled out catching everyone's attention, she helped Wiress out of the water where they've been sitting and began walking towards the Cornucopia . “This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock, with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge.” Katniss explains and you all follow her, "It all starts with the lightning, then the blood rain, fog, monkeys, that's the first four hours. At 10 that big wave points from over there.” She points forward, Wiress stops walking. As if she's cautious of something.

“Wiress, you're a genius." Finnick smiles as you all keep trekking forward.

“The tail points at 12." Peeta observes when you reach the shining Cornucopia.

“That's where the lighting strikes at noon and midnight.” Katniss further explains.

“Strikes where?" Beetee asks, holding his coil of wire close.

“That big tree." She points once more and Beetee seems pleased, Wiress sits down on the edge of the rocks murmuring a nursery rhyme to herself.

"Great job, Wiress. We'll try and listen more next time.” You patted her shoulder before following the rest of the group to where a circle is being drawn out in the sand. Dividing it up in the clock like sectors of the arena. Trying to find out what comes next in each portion of the arena.

“It doesn't matter as long as we steer clear of whichever sect is active, we'll be safe, yeah?”

" Relatively speaking.” Finnick nods along and then Wiress' ambience of nursery rhymes is quiet and she gasps. Your head shoots towards where she would be and there's Gloss, knife in Wiress' chest. Before you'd even had a chance to react Katniss’ arrow had pierced through his chest, you'd no clue where she'd come from, but you could hear a sound of outrage from Cashmere. You followed the sound and saw her lunging forward, blindly trying to avenge her brother. Without a second thought you'd shoved Katniss out of the way and a knife was flying out of your hand into Cashmere's heart. Her head hit the ground and that dreadful buildup of guilt was returning. She'd always been kind to you, there were amicable jokes and small complaints to one another at parties. An understanding that you'd struggled through the same, ever present issues and now you were once again the person cutting that life short after allowing a bond to be created. But you had to keep Katniss safe, to get her out of the arena, regardless of the consequences.

The Career pack had seemingly crept up on all of you, Finnick and Peeta were fighting off the attacks of Brutus and Enobaria. Your next knife barely missed Enobaria as she fled to the other side of the Cornucopia, Katniss’ arrow doing similarly with Brutus. Peeta tried to run after them, even if people talked about him like he was the weaker one, you'd seen from the way he trained with Brutus that it was anything, but true. Finnick knew that regardless of Peeta's strength he needed to be protected, kept alive, so he blocked him from the chase. Katniss; however, did try to follow after them, make sure the two were gone, Johanna followed behind. Under no circumstances could you let the Mockingjay get hurt, Peeta was because of that, but she was the one you'd been instructed to get out.

You looked over at Finnick, trying to communicate with him that you'd be following and he gave a curt nod. Only a few steps in though you were completely thrown off your balance, your brain started buzzing. You weren't sure what was going on except that your hands were desperately searching for crevices in the rocks to hold onto. The force of the wind whipped at your skin so hard it genuinely hurt and your fingers tried not to slip on the wet rocks. It was spinning, the Cornucopia was spinning around at full force, trying to throw you off, you tried to calm down. Focus on seeing if you could spot Finnick through the water sprays and the way it hit your face in harsh droplets. It wasn't that different from being on a boat, crabbing when the weather got difficult, being tossed around. Maybe if you shut your eyes that's what you could imagine this was, but then your hands were slipping and you were trying to force your body to stay still. Fingers blindly searching for another crevice, rocks scratching at them as you tried to dig your fingers into the rock. Body sliding down, it didn't matter that you could swim, if the impact was too harsh you could go unconscious on impact and no amount of experience in the water could save you from that.

Finnick would be okay though, if anyone was fine it would surely be him. He'd know exactly where to place his grip, he'd be strong enough to hold on, he could probably hold onto someone else too. Those thoughts are quickly cut short when you hear yourself screaming as something, something sharp, has lodged itself into your back. Breathe, you tell yourself digging your fingers into the rock deeper. Something is tearing into your back, the pressure of the wind definitely isn't helping, and you're barely able to focus on keeping hold of the slick rocks. Through the wind you can hear more screams, shouts, too obscure to make out who the belong to, but it reminds you that you need to survive long enough to rescue Katniss, you need to keep holding on.

Finally, the movement is slowing down, at least you think it is, maybe your perception of speed has just changed. By the time the Cornucopia comes to a stop you still feel dizzy, like a phantom of the spinning. When your brain stops buzzing the pain in your back is worse than you expected. It's torturous to try and stand, but you bite your lip, trying not to groan as you stand. Your legs are wobbly at first and then you hear Finnick call your name.

“Finnick there's something in my back." He's running towards you, eyes full of concern. Your taking deep breaths to try and move through the pain, “I need you to take it out."

Soon he's behind you and before you can say anything more his hand grabs yours from behind, "This is gonna hurt a lot-”

"Don't tell me, just rip it out, like a bandaid.”

"Angel, I can't do that. I'll do it as fast as I can, but I can't just tear it out without causing more damage." His fingers are rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You're crying a little and even though it causes more pain you laugh a little, “It's one of those stupid scalpel chains isn't it?"

“Yeah, sweet girl, squeeze my hand as hard as you need too." You're nodding, putting the free arm to your mouth to try and muffle yourself if you scream at all. Trying not to bite when you realize this is just as excruciating as the fog had been, fingernails digging into Finnick's hand as he pulls out each piece of the chain. “I've got you, angel, it's okay." By the time all the pressure from the chain has left your back you feel faint. “There we go, all done, you did such a good job." There's no chance to acknowledge him when you're letting yourself run to the edge so you can hurl into the water.

You force yourself to keep standing, “How bad is it?"

“Just deep enough to stick, but you're gonna be okay.” Finnick helps you steady yourself, avoiding the tender wounds on your back.

"Let's just get what we need and get off this bloody island." Johanna says and everyone complies.

“I can carry you, if you want." Finnick offers, already helping you across the rocks.

“I can walk, Finnick, I'm sure soon enough we'll be hit with something else that gives me enough adrenaline that I won't even feel it." You shrug, trying to force yourself to have good spirits. “And I still think hypothermia was worse so-"

He lets himself laugh, shaking his head, “You say that about everything."

“Because it's true! I was so cold that I felt like I was on fire and I was seeing things, I'm sure my back can take a few hits."

"Okay, angel, whatever you say.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't know how long had passed since they stripped you of your wet, muddied, bloodied clothes, or since they injected you with something that made you pass out until you woke with seemingly no injuries to remind you of the past except the stitches in your side. You do know that now they've allowed you rest, before you're thrust back into the Capitol to be seen, to be crowned. The blankets felt like the softest thing to ever grace your skin and the mattress itself is a blessing, but you can't appreciate it when your eyes bore into the wall, guilt infesting your bloodstream.

Light floods into the room and you fear that you've been lost in your head for so long it's already time for them to play dress up with your lifeless body. But his scent is something you've always known instantly, saltwater, sand, the smell of home. You don't even look at him, there's no point, you need the darkness to engulf you and let you have a redo.

“I wish you let me die in that arena." You don't recognize your own voice, so hoarse, so numb.

He took a cautious step into the room, “I know." Finnick sounds like he's already resigned himself to this, to whatever this is. You finally tear your eyes from the walls, briefly having let them pass over his figure, but doing nothing more than scooting over. You hope he got the message you silently urged for and of course he does, he gets you so well. When his body heat is by yours once again, you resent that you're able to have it, that you fought to have it.

‘You don't deserve to cry,’ is what you had begun to tell yourself the moment they grabbed you from that arena. The tears of a murderer do little to those whose blood they've shed. Yet when his hand is cupping your cheek, you feel the tears returning. The longer the silence persists, the better you'll be able to hold back from crying, but eventually you succumb to the uprising of tears and you've probably stained whatever Finnick is wearing.

“He's my best friend Finnick." Was. He was your best friend. Before you dug your talons in, chewed up the parts you needed, and kept the blood on your hands. That bright, beautiful boy that by all means you were supposed to end up with. You'd resisted that ending so much the universe had seemingly decided to make it a tragedy instead. “My best friend." His home was yours, his family was one with you, but you had to be selfish and greedy, so karma took its place.

Finnick's hands cradled your head, and you let yourself push away just to melt right back into them. “And he tried to kill you."

It made you seethe, how dare he be right, "Because I used him, I did that to him. He should have killed me, I'm not meant for this, Finnick.”

"Angel, the Capitol is eating out of your hand, you go out there, you smile and laugh, they love it. And then you walk straight off that stage to me.” You've sat up, trying to stop the hyperventilation that's taken control of your body. You can feel his hands on yours, trying to guide your breathing, but your brain felt too loud to even attempt to follow.

“Why'd you let me do it? You should've told me it was stupid, you should've let him win. He has a family who cares about him, oh my god his family!" Maybe it's not fair to blame Finnick, it had been your idea after all, but it helps because you felt like the insurmountable grief would eat you alive.

He pressed his forehead to yours, “I know, I know, angel, I'm sorry." Later you'll feel more remorse for what you said, but now you could barely breathe.

"You'd said you wanted to keep me safe and now I've screwed it all up because the world is punishing me."

Finnick had gone back to trying to steady your face, for his hands to calm you, which only works to remind you every one in a while to breathe. “Nothing is punishing you, this isn't your fault."

“No, it is, it's all my fault, Finnick! I couldn't just be satisfied with how my life was supposed to be. I wanted you so bad and pushed away my fate and so now the universe has to punish me"

“Stop it." His voice is grounded, caring but stern like the way he's been holding your face. “Don't do that, sweet girl, no one is getting retribution against you for anything.”

"What are the odds? Who does that happen to, Finnick? I just happened to get pulled in the same year as my best friend who everyone knows I'm supposed to end up with and then suddenly you want me again?”

"The odds are never in anyone's favor. And I wanted you anyways.”

You've begun scratching at your chest, which you've never done before, but the newfound anxieties seem to have taken over. But Finnick instantly is pulling your hands away. "I'm not meant for this, I'm just supposed to be the person who gets married and lives in some small house on the beach, who goes to the markets, not this.”

“And you put on a show for them, angel, and then we get to go back home and live that life as much as possible. You only have to keep the act up for them." You didn't have it in you to keep explaining otherwise, you were exhausted, although part of you told yourself you'd be better off without sleep, that you didn't deserve rest. Finnick could of course sense it all and pulled you into his chest. The warmth you'd so missed finally fully surrounding you, protecting you from everything, even your own thoughts for a little while. It was a heat you so desperately craved and the idea you'd never feel it again had haunted you when you'd almost died in the cold. So you nuzzled yourself deeper into his chest, "Get some rest, sweet girl.” His lips pressed to the top of your head.

Your brain refused to rest peacefully, but if you so much as mumbled in your sleep Finnick was there to soothe you until it passed and eventually he was waking you. For a moment, when your eyes had just fluttered open, it was easy to imagine that it was just you and Finnick back home, that none of that had occurred had ever happened. Maybe if you convince yourself of that delusion for long enough it would be an easy enough fantasy to slip into whenever you needed to give the Capitol a facade of joy. You were a victor after all.

“They're just going to do the same process that happened before the parade before your stylist gets whatever she had planned ready. I'll be there when you're done."

"Finnick, I'm sorry.”

"You don't have to apologize to me.” He understood what you'd gone through, he'd been there too and even though you knew that it still felt cruel to have blamed him for anything related to your actions.

"I-” He interrupted you with a kiss, you'd almost forgot what his mouth was like, the taste of honey on his lips.

"I’ll meet you after, angel.” He parted ways with you at the sleek, silver door to a scarily, clinical room. Soon enough you were being surrounded by a flock of your designing team to get your primped to the nines.

“You literally had me on the edge of my seat, it was divine." One of them squawked, making sure your body was completely devoid of any hair they hadn't specially planned to be there. You simply smiled as gratefully as you could, nodding along with each remark they made.

“We need more games like you, I mean they're all interesting, but you brought such a kick to it. One of the most entertaining by far!" One squealed, trimming your nails. Making a small look of disgust when he pulled out the dried mud and blood lodged underneath your fingernails.

“Oh, you'll be a must have at my big birthday gala next month. You will come won't you?” The woman with bright green hair who was powdering something onto your face asked eagerly.

“Of course, you've all done so much for me!" Your face hurt from the forced smiles as you gushed, and they oohh’d and aahh’d at your performance.

“You are the sweetest little thing, I could just burst!" The green haired woman waved her hands around expressively, the others nodding along with her.

“Anyone who doesn't already love you, will have to now!" The man announced, putting down your hand.

“Well we've done the makeup Cambrie requested, so we’ll let her know you're ready for the dress. It's simply divine. You'll wait right in there." You were ushered into a much more comfortable looking room and the smell of food instantly made you salivate. You'd forgotten how long it had been since you'd last eaten, especially something more than small fish, rabbits, berries, and nuts. Instantly you dove into each dish you could, eager to finally fill your stomach that has longed for food for over a week now.

You'd nearly eaten your fill when Cambrie’s bright voice filled the room. “I knew it would be you, I told everyone I could how much of a sweetheart you were! And now everyone wants one of my looks. You are such a blessing!” She kissed both of your cheeks,"You know what they're calling you?” You shook your head, not sure if you really wanted to know. "A Princess!” She squealed, obviously filled with glee."That's amazing to work with."

You smiled as big as you could to match hers, “Oh I'm flattered, but why that?"

“I mean look at you, the sweet, little girl from District 4 with two men pining to have her. Not a slob like some of the victors from past years, perfectly kind and refined." If it was considered kind and refined to manipulate and kill other children, then you guessed you would fit the bill. “So your dress reflects that, the princess style as one would say. I would've loved to incorporate a tiara, but since you'll be crowned at the end of the night we had to forego that."

The dress shimmered like the ocean in sunlight,"It's beautiful.” You said starting at the gown, it felt wrong to dressed in the Capitol's finest as Conway was being shipped in a wooden coffin back home.

“Just like you!" Cambrie clapped her hands together before leading you out of the room to where you'd wait to be presented back in front of Panem. Finnick immediately caught your eye and you resisted running straight to him.

“You look beautiful." He had a twinkle in his eye, that made you want to slip back into the fantasy that all of this wasn't because you'd won the Hunger Games, that it was just a regular day.

“You're not too bad yourself.” You shrugged with a playful smile. Then faster than anticipated it was time to go, Finnick squeezed your hand encouragingly. You let your smile fall for a fraction of a second to take a deep breath before plastering it back on.

“You've got this.” He whispered, kissing your hand before releasing it as you walked towards the steps of the stage.

“You know her, you love her, our very own Capitol Princess and victor of the 69th Annual Hunger Games!" He shouted your name into the microphone to a resounding applause as you walked onto the stage. Making sure to wave to everyone you could each of whom flailed their arms in excitement. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we're very excited to have you back." People cheered in agreement as you let out an airy laugh in response.

“Well Ceaser, I'm glad to be back, everyone is so kind!" You were smiling so hard your nose scrunched up, in hopes that they found it adorable.

“I would ask you what you're most excited for now that you're back, but I think we know the answer to that one." He quirked his eyebrows and the audience murmured in agreement.

You felt your face getting hot and looked down shyly, “Oh Ceaser-" You tried to make yourself seem as much like a hopeful romantic, innocent girl as you could. Maybe it could reverse the effects that manipulating Conway may have had on how you were perceived.

“Am I right? Have you been able to rekindle flames with a certain Capitol Darling?" You hid your face in your hands for a second, kicking your legs, the audience laughed, and you were certain there must be cameras somewhere planted on Finnick to try and capture a reaction. "I think we know what that means.” Caesar shot his blinding smile at the crowd who cheered.

“All I can say is there are many things I'm excited to return to, and people." You'd accepted since your interview that if you did win then your romantic life would be of great interest to the Capitol, so you didn't shy away from playing into it, giving a small, longing look off the side of the stage that the cameras would be sure to pick up.

“And I suppose for now you'll make us settle for that as an answer?"

“For now, Caesar, a woman has to have her secrets." You repeated, alluding back to your original interview, and the audience gave a playful groan.

"Well then, for now, that's an answer we'll have to be happy with. But I know we're all burning to go over these highlights with you.” The highlights, your moment to try and keep up the persona while rewatching the moments already ingrained into your mind. Everyone watching seemed eager with anticipation of the cheers were any indicator.

“I wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting then." Your gaze was purposely wide and as doe-eyed as you could make it be. The Bloodbath was first, your kills, the alliance and you were able to maintain the facade as he pestered you about your abilities with the knife. You distracted your brain with how cold the auditorium seemed to be, how thin the fabric of the dress was which left you trying not to shiver. Then it was conversations with Conway and you tried even harder to play into the act while trying to detach yourself from reality.

“I know some people were definitely rooting for you and Conway in the tragedy of it all, but I have to ask, and I want you to be honest. Did you love him?"

“He was my closest friend in the world, of course I loved him." Not like how he wanted you too, or how you knew logically you should have loved him, but it was love. Your voice was soft, sweet, and trembled with the fear of tears. Which you decided could actually be helpful at some point to keep painting yourself in this light.

You could have sworn you saw audience members crying, not because they cared about you, or him, but because to them this was a tale of tragedy that added a kick to their entertainment. Caesar hummed, “But you loved someone else more?" His voice was softer in the microphone as well.

You looked at him, “Only one of us was going to come out of the arena, it wasn't a matter of who I loved more." What a lie, if it was Finnick you were certain you'd give it all up for him in a split second. Sounds of sobs filled your ears and you pushed down the anger you felt at these people for how they'd ripped your life, Conway's life apart , just to cry over it now. Next was the highlight where you'd almost died and that was much easier to talk about, besides the fact that you could currently feel how cold your nose was getting which made your body want to curl up, you took every muscle to resist that impulse though.

“What were you thinking when that parachute was flying down from the sky?"

“Honestly, Caesar, it's fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure I was hallucinating." You forced a nervous laugh which the audience returned in full force and so did Ceased. You turned your body to face them, “However since then all I've wanted to say is thank you, to all of you who sponsored me during the games." The tears about Conway you let spill in full force about this instead, silently hoping it would win even more people over. “I'm just so grateful for all the generosity you've shown me and I will forever be." The crowd gave out noises of approval.

When the coverage of the battle between your allies and the Careers began and all the way up to those you cared about most in those Games, you let your soul float into the clouds. Allowing a smiley, teary eyed autopilot to take over your brain. You don't remember leaving autopilot until you were seated in some sort of throne-like chair, President Snow giving a speech to the citizens of Panem. He turned to you and you rose as he approached you with a crown, a crown that represented how you backstabbed your way to the top.

You bowed your head slightly as he placed the cold metal on your head, “Wonderful job, my dear." He said gruffly with a smile and although you could feel your body shaking, you forced one back.

“Thank you, Mr. President."

Yet he reiterated his statement in a way that gave you chills that you couldn't understand, “A wonderful job, you've really proven what these games are about."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Did we leave the spile in one of the trees?” You ask, dehydration certainly isn't helping how lightheaded you felt.

Peeta nods, “Yeah, impossible to know which one though."

"I'll go find it then.” You volunteered.

"I need to give the beach a good walk around, as well, let my brain finish thinking something up.” Beetee stood up, coil of wire in hand.

“You're not going alone." Finnick objected, ready to go with you.

“I'm not going alone, I have Beetee. We'll be fine, Finnick, it's a circle you'll be able to see us the whole way around." He looked reluctant, but knew there wasn't much he could do unless he followed you around, but he couldn't leave Johanna to take care of both Katniss and Peeta.

He sighed, “Be safe." His tone was even, straight-laced, “Beetee make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

You scoffed, “I'm looking for a spile!" But Beetee nodded to Finnick. “I’ll be fine! If I need you I'll scream." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“I'll send out a search party if you're not back in 20 minutes."

You looked around the arena slowly before looking back at him, “I'm sure there's no way of telling, but I'll be back. I promise." You smiled and he's still frowning, but he kisses your forehead and lets you walk off with Beetee.

“20 minutes!" He shouts after you as you begin walking around the perimeter of the beach, looking around the trees.

“So what's your plan with that?" You nod towards the coil Beetee is fiddling with.

“We've got water, lighting, a conductor, everything we need to electrocute." Beetee responds, you're ducking in and out of the trees. Searching for where the spile could be nestled in. You're far enough that you can't really see the group through all the trees, but that doesn't bother you until you hear a scream. It's far enough away that it's faint, screams of a young girl and then Katniss. You and Beetee are looking around, listening to the noise that's carried only by the breeze, when another voice enters the cacophony. It's familiar to you, but your brain struggles to process the sound. “That's you." Beetee says slowly.

Your brain does; however, instantly register the next scream, calling your name, Finnick. Instantly you'd ran out of the treeline back into the sand, back to where you'd left the group. “Finnick!" You screamed back, heart racing in panic. “Johanna, where's Finnick?" Both him and Katniss are gone, you can hear their shouts on top of the other noises.

“He followed her in." Johanna tilted her head towards the jungle and your legs instantly started moving, to find him, to show him the screams aren't really you. “It's already closed off, you can't go in."

"What do you mean, closed off?” You get your answer instantly when your hands touch the shield surrounding the woods the screams are coming from. You see Katniss running forward screaming and Peeta comes up by you, telling her it's just the birds. What birds? She's being hounded by them as she falls to the ground and you realize the screams are coming from them.

“Jabberjays." Beetee says, coming up behind you. You let your hands trace along the wall as you keep walking.

“What're you doing?" Johanna asks, exasperated.

“I have to find him, if he can at least see me-" Her scoff interrupts you but you keep darting your eyes through the trees in this clear cage, following it.

“He knows by now that it's not really you.”

"I know that!” You don't mean to snap at her, it frustrates you that you even pulled your eyes away from the jungle. "I know him, Johanna, and if he can see me then he'll know for certain that I'm okay." You're about to turn in the jungle as you follow the wall but Johanna grabs your arm, you start to shove her off. “Let go of me!”

"You go in there and it could be the next hour, the moment those stupid mutts are done, whatever is in there you'll be stuck with.”

"I don't care!”

She grabs you again, "But he does!” The frustration makes you want to cry all over again. She's right and that infuriates you, looking back inside the bubble when you catch a glimpse of him. Sitting, knees to his chest, covering his ears as he whispers something to himself, eyes clenched shut as birds flutter around him.

You don't care if he can't hear you when you hit the wall, “Finnick! Finnick!" Johanna mumbles something, but you don't listen. Too busy trying to beg him to look your way, but he doesn't. All you can do is watch him as he talks to himself, the way his fingers dig into the side of his head, how hurt he looks. You hate yourself, for disregarding him to go search for the stupid spike, for letting him be there for you and now not being there for him. "There's gotta be a way to break it.” Your voice cracks.

"I helped design the technology, it's unbreakable." Beetee’s voice is quiet in the clamor going on in your head. You hate him too right now for giving them this, something to stop you from getting to him. Forehead pressed to the wall as you let yourself cry, let the shame take over your body. You've forced yourself to keep your eyes on him, to suffer more, a just punishment for allowing this to happen. If you'd stayed out then the screams wouldn't have ever lured him in deeper. At some point he removed his hands from his ears and began to stare forward numbly. Allowing the birds to screech in his ears with your stolen voice, you resent yourself more for not trying harder, for letting him slip into such a state even if there was nothing more to do. Centuries seem to pass when suddenly there's a silence and your head falls forward, the wall is gone, the birds are lying on the jungle floor.

Instantly you're running forward, you want to scream out in relief that it's finally over, but you're terrified to startle him. You kneel down in front of him, there are streaks on his face from what must have been tears, but now he's just blank. “Finn?" It's whispered, so as not to put him on alert.

Slowly his eyes moved to your face, at first it's somewhat untrusting, like he doesn't believe it's really you. The worry on your face must prove to him otherwise because that look is soon gone.

“Are you okay?" You know the answer is no, but you don't know what else to say, too guilt ridden to think of a way to help.

“Yeah, I'm fine." He mutters and you nod just kneeling by him.

Your stomach is churning, it felt like your blood was full of pure, unfiltered anxiety, so you force your foot not to tap, but you can feel your toes twitching. “I'm sorry.” You croaked out and he shook his head again, "No, I am, I'm sorry Finnick. I should've stayed with you, I should've-"

“Are you hurt?" His hoarse voice asks, it's numb like the way his eyes are.

“No, Finnick, I was fine, I am fine!"

“Then it doesn't matter." He shrugs.

“It matters to me." Finnick looks at you, like your words are finally sinking into him. Cautiously you bring your hands up to his, “Do you wanna go to the beach? We can, we can go there." Besides the fact he always wanted to be at the beach back home, that was especially true when the episodes of not being able to ignore the burden on his shoulders happened. Your own uncertainness made you angry with yourself, he was always putting on a facade to be strong when you needed him too and now when it was your turn, you couldn't even stop your voice from shaking. His head moved ever so slightly, “Yeah? Come on." Slowly you began to rise, keeping your hands on his as he stood as well. As carefully as you could you guided him back to the sands of the beach, to the waters.

He instantly submerged himself in the water as he sat down, letting waves rise on him. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around him and he leaned back into you. “Don't leave me either." Finnick eventually spoke, the setting sun highlighting his face.

You shook your head furiously, “I won't." Maybe you didn't understand what about you he found grounded or endeared him, but you did know you never wanted to see or even think of him the way you just had, again. You also accepted there would never be a day where you didn't think about it, what you did, how he looked, how he acted, how scared he seemed. It would haunt you and you would let it, if only to make sure it never happened again. Part of you wished the seawater would consume the both of you here, forever immortalize you with it and make sure there was never a moment you could be parted from each other's arms. Yet a larger piece of you was more determined than ever to execute the plan the best you could so you could be free of the control and mind games of the Capitol, so you could just live the rest of your life out with Finnick the way you'd both intended. To end it all, no matter what it took, so nobody else would have to live the life of the so-called ‘Victor.’

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I cannot thank you all enough for reading, this was a longer one and I'm sorry it took so long to get out. feedback, likes, comments, reblogs, are all super appreciated and my ask box is open, I'm slowly getting through requests as well! you're all so amazing and sweet, it's really kept my passion for this series alive and I have so many ideas. again thank you all so much for reading 💋

taglist: @coriolanussnowswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastry @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x you #thg #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x you #finnick x reader #the lakes

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eiraeths · 4 months

Text

more scrubs quotes as 141 members because im binging the show

———

Ghost: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring. [Points at self]

———

Price: Do you want me to order you a clown?

Ghost: A drunk clown hurt me once

———

Soap: It sounds like you’re asking me out on a man date.

Ghost: Johnny, why are you so afraid of loving me?

———

Ghost: I don’t understand it. This wedding is supposed to be about us - how come I can’t be comfortable?

Soap: And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you are not wearing sweats!

———

Ghost: I don’t dislike you. I nothing you.

Soap: That’s special

———

Ghost: Hey idiot

Soap: [Turns around]

Ghost: Heh. I said idiot and you turned around.

———

Soap: [after kissing Ghost] Is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or are you having a good time?

Ghost: Actually, it's a roll of quarters. [takes out roll of quarters] Laundry day.

———

Graves: Ghost!

Ghost: And there you are.

Graves: Huh?

Ghost: I was just wondering if there was anything that could really push my headache into a full blown migraine… and there you are.

———

[Standing next to Soap and Graves]

Ghost: Goodness gracious, suddenly I'm getting the most intense headache. Let me see if this relieves the pain.

[grabs Soap and shoves him in between him and Graves]

Ghost: Better! [pushes Soap away]

Ghost: Worse! [Pulls him back]

Ghost: Better! [and away again]

Ghost: Worse! Oh, I could do this all day.

———

Ghost: Mactavish!

Soap: Mactavish? You only call me Mactavish when you're mad or when we're having sex... Baby, are you mad when we're having sex?

Ghost: Sometimes.

———

Gaz: I am not addicted to Journey

Soap: [singing] She's just a small-town girl…

Gaz: [singing] Livin' in a lonely wor-rld, she took the midnight train, going a-n-y-whe-ere.

———

Ghost: [thinking] Wait, is he into me? Quick, make a bad joke and see if he laughs.

Ghost: You hear about the skeleton who couldn't go to the party? He had noBODY to go with.

Soap: A ha ha ha! That's really funny!

Ghost: [thinking] Oh that's not a fair test, that joke's hilarious.

———

Price: Since you’re not that intelligent, I’m going to speak like a caveman from now on. You bad soldier. Me good soldier. You follow.

———

Price: I’m tired of rookies complaining about being called dummos, tubbos, smokers, and whatever the hell jamokers means.

Soap: I was actually saying jokers, but i had coffee cake in my mouth.

———

Gaz: Hey, Soap, wanna get a beer after work?

Soap: Do chickens wish they can fly?

Gaz: ...I have no idea.

Soap: I like to think they do.

———

Soap: [looks up to the ceiling] Now, I know you say you love us all equally. But you don’t, do ya? I’m onto you, big man.

———

okay that’s it

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gumycandyyy · 7 months

Text

୨♡ "ＡｔＹｏｕｒＢｅｃｋＡｎｄＣａｌｌ" ♡୧

Trying out a oneshot! Or something like that idk.

Winter King x reader

Romantic

GN reader

RQ: nah fam, I accept requests though!

Word count: 1390

No use of y/n

Summary: You're adventuring through this interesting little world, and find yourself in a snowstorm. Next thing you know, you're in some kind of ice palace. What happened?

Walking through the snow, you look up into the sky. Cloudy. Best be quick.

A chilly breeze sneaks through the fabric of your shirt and deep into your bones. It would've been better if you'd brought a jacket. Though you didn't think your wish prepared you for that.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I wish..."

"You better think about this hard, dude. You only get one."

"Okay, okay. I wish... Hm..."

"Want a pickle?"

You agreed to Prismo's offer, gladly taking the snack. You crunched while you thought. Man, these were good pickles.

"Okay man, I'll admit I got nowhere to be, but you were kinda interrupting me. I was watching TV."

You tell Prismo that he can watch while you think, as you hadn't thought you would make it this far. He shrugged, and pressed a button on his remote.

You saw him flipping through channels rapidly, looking for one in particular.

"Hey, Prismo."

"Hm?"

"Are those just.. Shows? Or-"

"Oh, they're universes. Y'know, the multiverse theory right? I just get to watch everything. Perks of being an omnipresent god-type thing."

You think about your wish for another few moments. You snapped your fingers, and Prismo paused the TV.

"You know what you want?"

You nodded, rubbing your hands together.

"I wish that I-" "Be descriptive. Just in case, Y'know?"

You sighed with an exasperated smile. Taking a deep breath, you asked your question.

"I wish that I had the ability to travel freely and safely through the multiverse at will."

Prismo coughed loudly, as if choking on something. He took a deep breath, sighing.

"Okay, okay. So- I actually don't know if I'm allowed to do that."

"sigh."

"Did- did you just say 'sigh'?"

Prismo shook his question off, and sighed himself. He explained to you what he was and wasn't allowed to do, and how you were in a gray area of the rules. He finally shrugged.

"What could go wrong?"

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly you weren't in the time-cube-thingy anymore. You were in a grassy field. You felt something in the back of your pocket, and bringing it out, you saw a small pocket watch.

There was a note folded up and taped to the back of it. The handwriting was almost too small to see.

Yo, this thing is weird, right? Just wind the clock when you wanna change universes.

Don't break it.

I'm serious, this thing is expensive.

So armed with nothing but your wit and a pocketwatch, you traversed throughout the multiverse.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You wished that you would've added 'immortality' to Prismo's wish.

The wind was picking up, whipping your hair around. You looked into the sky, seeing the clouds grow dark, and snow beginning to sprinkle. It was almost astounding how quickly the weather could change.

A few stray snowflakes blew straight into your mouth as you breathed in, causing you to cough. The wind whipped through you, and the snow fell into your eyes. The sky was as dark as ever, and the snow clumping to your feet made it hard to walk.

You wish you thought of bringing a jacket.

You really wish you thought of bringing a jacket.

It didn't even occur to you to leave this universe, you were too cold to think. Stumbling around in this white wasteland, you wondered if there were any towns nearby.

Just as you thought of that, you saw a light in the distance. Struggling to climb up an embarrassingly small hill, you saw a glowing little town next to a palace probably around a quarter mile away. It looked to be made of ice, but that might just be you blurred vision.

You staggered through the snow, just trying to make it to the town.

You stop in place when you realize you can't feel a single thing in your body. Breathing in deep through your nose and cringing at the chilled air, you decided to use up the last of your energy to get to that little town as quickly as possible.

Bringing your arms up and crossing them, you tried to keep as much warmth to your chest as possible. After getting within about 100 paces to the town, you were ready to collapse. You heard light and seasonal music playing from the town, and hummed along deliriously.

People were ice skating on a small lake near you, and you tried to call for help.

But you couldn't get out more than a whisper.

Collapsing into the snow, your vision blurred and darkened. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, you heard a voice.

"Ice scouts! Come help this-"

Then you were out.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next thing you knew, you were inside some glittering blue room. Was this place made of ice? Impossible, you were warm. Looking down, you saw that you were covered in blankets. Fluffy, Warm, blankets... You almost wanted to fall back asleep...

You sat up quickly, realizing you didn't know where you were. You then heard a soft voice from your bedside.

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

You looked to your side, seeing a man sitting in a chair, reading some book. You couldn't see its title. The man had light blue skin, white hair, a long nose, and sparkling eyes.

You noticed he was dressed quite elegantly, and a crown sat atop his head.

"Who are you?"

He blinked for a moment, and laughed softly while slapping his forehead. He stood up, brushing himself off.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is the Winter King. You'd passed out in the snow when my ice scouts and I were not but twenty feet away from you!"

You introduced yourself,and tried to remember what exactly happened, but couldn't. You just had to take the Winter King's word for it.

Wait..

Winter King.

You quickly apologized for being so nonchalant with royalty, but Winter King stopped you.

"Oh, no need for such formalities. You are a guest. It's my duty to serve you. If it would make you feel better, you may just call me Winter."

He sat down again, looking at you. Not in a creepy way, just... curious.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. The air was cold, but not nearly as dreadful as the blizzard outside. You then realized something strange. You asked Winter why it hadn't been pouring snow in the town. He laughs softly, smiling gently at your question.

Man, he was pretty.

"Oh, my dear, I have control over this domain. From every ice sculpture to every snowflake. While sometimes I cannot control the weather, I can however, keep it from affecting my town."

From your basic understanding of magic logic, this seemed plausible enough. You went to stand up, but suddenly felt very fatigued, your legs wavering. Winter stood up from his seat, ready to catch you if need be.

You cleared your throat, sitting down. Only then did you realize how much your throat hurt. You coughed for a moment, trying to get this scratchy feeling out. Winter noticed what you were doing, then gently clapped his hands. A person- looking to be made out of ice- skated into the room, holding a tray with a glass of water on it.

You thanked the little ice servant, and thanked Winter.

Winter seemed a little perplexed that you thanked the servant, but carried on, as it wasn't anything to fuss about.

"I see you're sick. Sometimes I can forget that people aren't immune to the effects of my wondrous realm."

He seemed to be really proud of his little winter wonderland. You looked out a massive window to see the town below.

The town.

You were in the castle.

Huh.

"However, I am more than willing to aid you throughout your journey to regain your health!"

This man cannot be real. He's so incredibly kind! You've never really met any royalty, but you guessed that Winter was pretty much the nicest king in history.

You sneezed into your elbow, then cleared your throat once again.

"Rest for now, my dear. Though, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I am at your beck and call."

Winter bowed, then gracefully slid out of the room. You forgot the floor was made of ice. Snuggling into the plush pillows and multiple blankets, you closed your eyes,

and drifted off.

︵‿︵‿T B C‿︵‿︵

My first Winter King oneshot! This was so fun to make. Tell me if you'd like a part two!

reblog for a beginner writer?

Your complimentary WK fanart ^^

Please send asks! I love writing prompts!

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

Text

Coming Home to You

Pairings: Husband!Dad!Travis Kelce x Wife!Mom!Reader

Words: 926

Warnings: None, just cute family dynamics

“Mama?” Bubba looked up at you with sleepy eyes, still waking up as he ate his breakfast at the kitchen island. Savannah was in her highchair, apple sauce over her face and in her hair. “Yes, Bubs?” You walked over to Bubba, placing a kiss on his messy curls. “Where’s Daddy? I wanna watch Paw Patrol with him?”

Over the last couple of months, shortly after Bubba turned four, he started to notice that Travis wasn’t around a lot during the season, but still didn’t grasp why. He didn’t understand why Daddy didn’t come home after every game. “He’s on a trip, but he’s coming home tomorrow. When you wake up, he’ll be here.” Bubba immediately started to tear up, his lip pushed out in a pout. “Come here baby,” you helped him out of his chair, your pregnant belly making it difficult to hold your first baby like you wanted to. You grabbed Savannah from her highchair and led Bubba to the living room.

You placed Sav in her play pen, settling on the couch with Bubba. “I’ll watch Paw Patrol with you, we can spend the whole day together.” You wiped the tears from Alex’s face, his little sniffles and stuffy nose breaking your heart. You snuggled up under a blanket together, and when you were sure Bubba’s attention was on the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Travis:

Y/N: Hey baby, you busy?

Travis: No, we’re just resting in the hotel

Y/N: Everything ok? Nervous for tonight?

Travis: Yes, going against the Patriots sucks

Y/N: You got this babe

Travis: Thanks baby. Miss you so much

Y/N: Bub is missing you so bad today, he’s been crying all morning

Travis: Poor little man, he’s having a hard time every away game

Y/N: Do me a favor, FT me in a couple min, he’d love to see you

Travis: Alright, will do baby

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘😘

About five minutes later your phone rang, Travis’ number popping up. “Look Bubba, its daddy!” Bubba’s face lit up, grabbing the phone from you.

“Hi Daddy!” Alex was greeting Travis before his face was even on the screen. “Hey Bubs, what are you doing?” Alex adjusted so he was sitting on his bottom on the couch. “Watching Paw Patrol with mama.” Travis chuckled, “Is Rebble in this episode?” “His name is Rubble, Daddy. You’re silly!” “You’re right baby. Daddy got his name wrong.” “Are you coming home soon?” You sighed, knowing this wasn’t going to end well. “Not today, baby, Daddy is playing football tonight, but I’ll be home tomorrow.” “Can we watch you play?”

“We can watch on the TV tonight”, you fixed his shirt that had gotten twisted while he was playing. “We can get pizza!” Bubba got excited at the thought of pizza. “I need you to cheer me on so that I can win tonight, Alex” “I will, Daddy, I love you.” You could hear Travis’ smile through the phone, “I love you too Bud.” Alex hands the phone back to you, running to his room in a much better mood. “Thanks baby, love you.” “My other child giving you trouble?” You rubbed your belly, laughing to yourself. “Actually no, unless you count the gas.” “I do, let me know if I need to give her a talkin’ to. I gotta go, see you tomorrow.”

The night went pretty smoothly, Alex cheering for Travis, until he fell asleep on the couch during the 2nd quarter. A four-year-old just can’t hang. The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the garage opening. You waddled downstairs to greet Travis, meeting him at the garage door. “What are you doing up?” Travis dropped his bags on the ground by the door. You glanced at the clock on the wall; it was only 5:30AM. “I can’t sleep, this baby is using my bladder as a punching bag.” Travis pulled you in for a kiss, his hands finding your belly. “Come on, we probably have 30 minutes before the kids wake up.” You pulled Travis with you up to the bedroom, Travis throwing his body on the bed with a groan. You escaped to the bathroom, joining Travis in the bed when you were done. You sat back on your haunches, leaning on the propped-up pillows. “Give me the rundown, any injuries?” “Not this time, my shoulder is still bothering me though. C’mere.” Travis pulled you into his side, his arm around your back, careful of your belly. You pulled him in for a kiss, his return half-hearted because he was exhausted. “Baby, you don’t know how much I want to, but I am so tired right now.” You ran your hand over Travis’ hair, mentally making a note to schedule a haircut for him. You patted his chest as he closed his eyes. You had about five minutes together in peace and quiet before you heard the door creak open, Bubba’s tiny head poking through.

“Daddy!” Alex jumps on the bed, landing on Travis’ chest, Travis letting out a grunt. Alex wrapped his arms around Travis, his little arms barely making it around his broad chest. “You must have been cheering really good, because we won.” “I was, mama had to tell me to quiet down.” Travis laughed, rubbing Alex’s back. Travis was drifting off to sleep, unable to keep his eyes open. “Come on Alex, let’s get breakfast and let Daddy sleep.” You and Alex woke up Savannah and went downstairs, Travis sleeping for the next four hours.

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #traviskelce #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine

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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year

Note

hello luv how are you doing? I’ll let you know u’r curring my depression. Could you please write an angsty pov with simon riley where he finds a fem reader on the old russian base on his mission??? so he sees her russian uniform and aimes his weapon on her but hesitates once he sees she’s unarmed combat medic?? and she kinda hides there in the from her comrades cuz they claimed her a traitor for saving an “enemy” soldier’s life?

if that’s too much and definitely not what you wanna write it’s totally okay. sorry. and thank u again hope u have a good day!!

omg hi anon! i'm doing good, but i hope you are doing even better! <3 yeah, i can do that for you :) hope this is okay for you!

cw: angst(ish), cursing, idk if i missed any let me know

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Combat Medic Reader

Simon was currently securing some intel from an enemy base, exploring what he thought was empty, abandoned. Just before he was about to leave and call it clear, he felt the need to check the only quarters with a closed door.

As he walked in, he instantly raised his gun. He didn't get a good look at first, just noticing her Russian uniform, but his finger let off the trigger when he saw her - froze, hands up, unarmed.

She was clearly beat up, bruises scattered amongst her arms, a neat gash on the side of her head. Messy, matted hair. Could tell you were exhausted.

"I'm sorry! Please! Please don't kill me," you begged.

"What are you doin'... here?" Ghost asked.

You swallowed as you tried to find your words, unsure if he'd believe you.

"Come on, spit it out."

"I am hiding here... from my comrades..." you started. "They call me a traitor."

"Traitor? Why?"

"I saved an enemy's life... They were unarmed, in so much pain," you sniffed, lips quivering as you cried. "They said... they said-"

"Shh, quiet down, now," he rasped. He didn't really know what to think. On one hand, he thought it was brave, heroic of you. It's your job. On the other, he didn't want to risk getting involved with a possible dangerous situation.

"Are they lookin' for you?"

"Yes... I know I need to get out of here but," you shrugged. "I don't know... They could kill me."

"None of that, now," he whispered. "Let's get you out of here first. I'll get you some place safe."

He led you back to a safe area, and helped you get into the passenger side of the truck. He hopped in the passenger seat, quietly sitting there as he took out his phone, sending a few texts.

"Suppose you could come with me," he spoke. "But, you can't wear... that. And don't go snoopin' around... or do anythin' to get yourself killed."

You nodded your head understandingly. "Yes, sir. Thank you... thank you."

He got out a few spare pairs of cargo pants and some shirts, tossing them down in the middle seat. "I'll stop somewhere soon. Let you change and... get yourself cleaned up."

You were beyond thankful he was helping you. Maybe this was your chance to start over, fully get away from your old comrades, from the military.

You feel cleaner than before, able to make yourself decent at a truck stop and get into a... clean enough pair of clothes.

Just as you expected, coming onto this new base, you were questioned by everybody. They had to make sure you weren't putting up an act, but they soon halfway trusted your sincereness.

You were shown to a spare room, and instantly plopped into the bed. Needing the rest as you now felt somewhat safe. It was very much awkward, so you didn't want to leave your room, but you were so hungry you had no choice.

It was late at night at this point, a little bit past 1200. Figuring everyone was asleep, you walked into the shared kitchen to find some grub only to be startled by the large presence before you, the man who saved you, a little bit dressed down than how you met him before.

"Hungry?" he asked. "Food in the fridge."

"Thank you..." you spoke quietly. "Hey... what's your name?"

He just looked at you before he answered. "Ghost."

"Thank you, Ghost..." you weakly smiled. "For saving me."

He hummed as he nodded.

"You didn't have to-"

"I know."

"I-I'm Y/N. Nice to... meet you," you chirped as you opened the fridge, picking up a container of leftovers that seemed decent enough to eat.

"Yeah. Well, have a good night," he walked away from you, not looking back as you watched his tall figure disappear into the darkness of the hallway.

A/N - I liked this idea a lot, I just hope I wrote it okay lol.

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multi-fandomlovers-world · 10 months

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Price, Ghost, And Gaz React To Their To A Sketch Their S/O Drew Of Them

TW: Fluff, SFW, All The Love

Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr

Requested By: Anon

Reblogs And Comments Are Highly Appreciated!!! :)

John "Captain" Price:

John had gotten out of the shower and walked into the bedroom that you and John shared. As you put on his grey sweatpants, he saw your sketchbook out on the dresser and it was left open with a sketch of him, sleeping. He picked up to get a better look at it and smiled softly. You sketched him perfectly. The settle details that you drew along his chest hair and the way his necklace dangled along his chest. You drew his dark brown hair messy like it always was in the morning that you loved so much. "Hey baby? What do you want to do for -oh you found my sketch of you", You said, as you walked into the bedroom, where John was. "When did you draw this?", John asked, as he looked over at you. "Uhm...I-I drew it the other day when you arrived home. You looked so peaceful and happy. I wanted to admire what I saw and you were perfect just laying there", you said, looking up at John who smiled at you. "Well, I have to say, this is a beautiful drawing. Could be your muse,yeah?",John said, as he turned towards you and chuckled. "I mean, you could me my muse. Don't worry you don't have to leave your shirt off...unless you want to", You said, smiling, biting your lip and running your hands over his shirtless torso. "Mm love, I'll be your muse anytime. Oh! Also, do you wanna do takeout for dinner? We can order from that Chinese place we love or I can cook something up here", John said, pecking your neck softly then traveling up to your lips, kissing you gently as he held onto your hips. You smiled, your hands holding the sides of his face and kissed him back. "We don't have a bunch of food so we'll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow so Chinese sounds good", you said, wrapping your arms around him. "Sounds good to me. Let's order love", John said, as he put your sketchbook back down on the dresser and followed you out into the living room. You draw him a lot now and he loves seeing your drawing.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Simon was in the living room of the apartment that you two shared, looking for his necklace. He turned and saw your sketchbook laid out on a page where you had drawn him. Simon looked at it and picked it up. He saw how well you drew, even the minor details. He noticed how well you took the time to draw him, from the way his hair was, his eyes and his clothes. "Hey baby, did you find your-oh you found my sketch of you", you said, looking up at him. "When did you draw this?", Simon said, still looking at the sketch then looking down at you. "Remember when I came down to base to visit you because you couldn't come home yet due to the mission being on hold? When we were in your quarters, I could help but draw you sitting there. You looked so peaceful. I can get rid of it if you want me to, I don't want to make you uncomfortable", you said, looking down. Simon put the sketch book back down on the table, lifted your chin up so you could look at him and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, causing him to hum softly. "No, I don't want you to get rid of it and you didn't make me uncomfortable at all, lovie. Maybe you could keep it like a personal collection?", Simon said, giving you a soft smile. "Ok then. I'll keep it in my personal collection, then. You wouldn't mind if I keep drawing you? I'll keep them hidden", You said, keeping your eyes on him. "I won't mind at all, lovie. Also, have you seen my necklace? I haven't seen it", Simon said, looking around the room until he saw that you pulled his necklace out from the dresser. "Oh that's where it was. Thank you", Simon said, putting his necklace back on and letting it dangle from his chest. "Your welcome, Si. Wanna come cuddle with me for a while?", You said. "Yes, I'd love to do that", Simon said, as you took his hand and guided him to the bedroom where you two then laid down. He smiled as he was close to his body. Lowkey, he loved the drawing that you did of him and makes him love you even more.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Kyle was going through some paperwork in the office of the home that you two shared. As he got up, he saw your sketchbook laid out and opened to a sketch of him. You took your time with the details. Kyle always admired your sketches that you did. "Hey baby, you do-oh..you found my sketch of you", you said,looking up at him. "Princes, when did you draw this?", Kyle asked, looking back at you. "You remember that small trip that we took a few weeks ago when we went to the beach? I couldn't help but to draw you. You looked so happy and relieved. You're quite beautiful to draw, baby", you said, and gave him a small smile. "Well, this is a lovely picture. Maybe I'll let you sketch me more often, yeah? I can take my shirt off for you", Kyle said, biting his lip, while smiling at you. "I'd love to sketch you more, but you taking off your shirt will become a distraction", You said, as you wrapped your arms around him and felt his hands grab your waist. "But you love when I distract you. Especially when I do this", Kyle said, he kissed you passionately. Your hands traveled to touch the back of his hair before you pulled away for a second. "Mm that is a very good distraction, baby. But I need to-", you said, before getting cut off again but Kyle's lips. You kissed him back as he held onto you tightly before pulling away from your lips again. "Don't get rid of that sketch. It's really good and would it be ok If I kept it?", Kyle said. "Of course you can keep it. Oh hey, what do you want to do for lunch? I'm starving", you said still having yourself wrapped around him. "Hmm, I can grill up some hamburgers on the grill. You ok with that?", Kyle asked, while giving you a soft smile. You nodded before kissing his cheek and leaving the room to go help get everything. He took one last look at the sketch. He knew he found the love of his life and loved you even more.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Taglist: @andreas-river @dressycobra7 @deadbranch @kiamewrites

#cod mw2 #mwii #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x you #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare

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dungeon-meshi-tournament · 2 months

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Seaworthiest Ship in the Dungeon Tournament 2024 Funny Comments

Doing a shipping tournament inspired a lot of comments from you guys, many of which I found funny. So here's a selection of the funniest comments I got, sorted by the poll they were left on.

Namarcille vs Falin x Shuro (round 1 part 1) harold theyre lesbians. three Lesbians and a clueless Straight Man

Marcille x Touden siblings vs Namari x Kaka & Kiki (round 1 part 1) What's better than two long sexy legs? Four long sexy legs and bisexuality!

Marcitsumi vs Laios x Thistle (round 1 part 1) im sorry i can't say no to anything that results in Laios bondage sorry

Marios vs Island governor x Shadow governor (round 1 part 1) Who's shipping heterosexual shit in Dunmesh I just wanna chat Heterosexual ??? ON MY DASH !? No let me take the old man yaoi

Kakamari vs Kikimari (round 1 part 1) Flustering Namari is Kiki's true calling in life. The constant 😏 face

Maizuru x Toshitsugu vs Laios x Kensuke (round 1 part 2) 'sword fight' taking on a whole new meaning

Senshi x Chilchuck's daughters vs Otta x Chilchuck's wife (round 1 part 2) This is just the "torture Chilchuck" match up lmao sorry Chilchuck your wife has to fuck the hot elf dyke. the only thing stopping otta is that she has to be nearing 30

Canary polycule vs Labru (round 2 part 1) Narrative foils Yada yada. Laios is NOT interested in humans!!!!! one top and her army of bottoms. what could be better. mithrun is their pet fish

Farcille vs Laios x Kensuke (round 2 part 2) honestly this tournament is like my anthropology field. a good place to see dynamics of the fandom

Otta x Chilchuck's wife vs Senshi x Mithrun (round 2 part 2) happy Valentine’s Day chilcuck

Izutsumi by herself vs Namari x Kaka & Kiki (round 3) sorry izutsumi but leggsicule omfg izutsumi will be perfectly fine by herself but namari will have a mental breakdown if we fumble this ship for her

Winged Lion x Laios vs Labru (round 3) literal embodiment of lust vs guy who doesnt like the other guy

Kensuke x Ambrosia vs Kikimari (round 3) *to the tune of that gum commercial* “Long long leeeeeeeegs”

Laisen vs Cithidol (round 3) alright i know what i just said about kabumisu but cithidol is pretty funny too. worst couple you ever saw 10/10

Farcille vs Otta x Chilchuck's wife (round 3) farcille killing the joke ships out of thr bracket. its okay falin would love marcille if she was a worm. but otta would drop the wife for being 30 terrible day for lesbian dicaprio fans

Izutsumi by herself vs Labru (quarter finals) She must be stopped!!! She must be enabled!!!

Farcille vs the Flokes (quarter finals) I was voting for the old people to have sex but ok girls having sex is wholesome hope this helps. loser ‘hey kiki & kaka your parents are gnc as fuck’

Izutsumi by herself vs Kikimari (semi-finals) Rise up and dethrone God(izutsumi)!!!!

Kabumisu vs Farcille (semi-finals) There's no way Kabumisu can beat Farcille, but it's an honor to face them in battle 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 wlw on mlm violence

Izutsumi by herself vs Farcille (finale) THE REMATCH OF THE CENTURY two girls should win this time. not just one A ship winning?? On my celibacy website?? very aroacephobic of you to not vote izutsumi if you ask me

Kikimari vs Kabumisu (battle for the bronze) 5 women on one podium we can make it happen. mmmmm 5 women..... [multi-paragraph post with detailed pro-Kabumisu points Counterpoint: Leggggg

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi spoilers #seaworthiest ship in the dungeon tournament #funny comments #i could've probably done several themed posts spun off from this with how much material you guys gave me #roasting that person who got mad farcille beat the flokes #lesbians vs catgirl #namari and legs

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mytheoristavenue · 1 year

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HEY BESTIE- you bet your sweet ass that I’m requesting that Zoro x bossy, snarky reader fic. I wanna see how Zoro handles reader behind closed doors 👀

Happy to oblige!

OP Roronoa Zora x Bossy!Reader 🍋 - Attitude

Summary: Zoro is getting tired of your nagging and decides to deal with you behind closed doors.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, preestablished relationship, mean!Zoro, brat!reader, fem!pronouns, brat tamer!zoro, rough, messy oral (m receiving), fingering, degradation, kinda short 😅

"Zoro! How many times do I have to ask you to pick up after yourself!" you scolded, making your way up to the deck, waving around a pair of your boyfriend's dirty socks. He snarled, shrinking against the railing of the Sunny, dreading the tangent you were about to go on. "It would be so easy for you to toss your smelly socks in the hamper- but no! You insist on leaving them all over the floor for me to pick up!"

"Sorry," he muttered, barely interested and not even bothering to look at you.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say for yourself?" you you grilled, hands on hips in front of him now, bent at the him. In the corner of you eye, you caught notice of Usopp, who had been sitting next to Zoro, snickering at your beratement. Your attention shifted to the sniper and your eyes narrowed. "Scram, long nose." His dark eyes perked and he wasted no time in scrambling to his feet and skittering away.

"Why do you have to be such a shrew?" Zoro scoffed, peering up at you through his one good eye. "Do you ever stop nagging?"

You huffed, crossing your arms. "Maybe I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such a man child!" you shouted, puffing your chest. "Just pick up you damn clothes, Zoro!" With that, you stormed away, back down into the cabin on the ship, presumably to cool off in your shared room.

-----

When Zoro finally came to bed, the evening, you were bustling around your room, cleaning and reorganizing, grumbling angrily as you did. He wordlessly sat on the bed, kicking off his boots and dressing down. You stood on the other side of the bed, behind him, silent fury bubbling your chest as you watched him toss his clothes all over the floor that you had just cleaned. "Zoro!" you shrieked. "I just finished finished picking up after you! Put you damn clothes in the hamper!"

"Shut up," he grumbled, still upset from how you'd embarrassed him earlier. You felt so disrespected and uncared for by him. All you did was take care of him and all you wanted was for him to help you, but he couldn't be bothered.

"Fine," you spat, gathering a few essentials and walking toward the door. "I'm going back to the girls' quarters. Have fun sleeping by yourself."

"You better not," he warned with an annoyed sighed. "Just come lay down with me." You stuck your nose up at him, before opening the door. Suddenly, all your blood rushed to your face as you felt a hand on your ass, fingers slipping through the gap in your thighs to give a firm squeeze. "I said," he growled, pulling you close enough to grab your hips and force you into his lap. "Sit your ass down." With a single kick, the door slammed shut, and the items you'd been carrying scattered to the ground.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you?" he asked rhetorically, resting his back against the headboard, and pulling you into his chest, holding your securely. "All you do is bitch, bitch, bitch." He harshly threw your legs apart, shoving his hand into your shorts and underwear, wasting no time in plunging digits into your hole. "But that shit stops now," he teased, his free arm wrapping around your throat to lightly choke you, fingers dipping into your mouth and pulling at your cheek. "Right now, you're gonna shut the fuck up and I'm gonna put that mouth to use."

-----

You currently sat on the wooden floor of the bedroom, between his legs, slobbering all over his cock. He had a firm grip on your scalp as you stared down at your coldly, secretly loving how messy you looked before him. "See what brats get?" Zoro snarled, seemingly unfazed by the pleasure you were supplying him with. "I coulda been so nice to you tonight, but instead I gotta fuck your little throat to teach you a lesson." You sniffled, peering up at him submissively as you bobbed on his dick, tears streaming down your eyes, unable to stifle the moans seeping from you. You loved it when he was mean to you like this.

Suddenly, he yanked on your hair, preventing you from sinking your wet mouth down onto him again. "Don't you ever embarrass me like that in front of my crew, understood?" You nodded desperately, brows knit and drool dripping of your chin. "Say it," you bit down on your lip, humiliated to have to speak out loud in your state. His free hand came down to wrap around your throat, his eye narrowing. "Fucking. Say. It."

"I-I'm sorry I embarrassed you!" you squealed gasping delightfully. "I-I promise I'll be good, Daddy!" Zoro chuckled, releasing you from his grasp entirely and leaning back on his palms.

"Good girl," he purred, seeming to forgive you for your transgressions. "Now, suck me dry and I might just let you cum tonight."

#zoro x reader #one piece smut #roronoa zoro #zoro smut #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 7 months

Note

(hi thank you for being understanding about my question and being cool with doing this!) can I ask for headcanons for somethin like movie night with the 501st? Gender neutral reader is fine

Of course babes. 🩷 We can do movie night any night with the 501st!

Warnings and Information: There’s nothing to do in the barracks tonight, and it’s been a long time since anyone’s seen a good movie. So, throw in like fifteen packets of popcorn in the microwave (one at a time, Hardcase) to get this popcorn poppin’, because the 501st + one good friend is having a movie night! (Once mostly everyone agrees on what to watch, of course…) Blankets, pillows, snacks, and cozy Clone cuddle-piles galore~ Who’s falling asleep first? 😴 2nd person POV with an undescribed reader who has a gender neutral nickname. Bullet point format. We’ll use a little Mando’a, as a treat. Fluff and good feelings all around. Everyone’s happy. Everyone’s safe. 💙

Word count: 1,652

The previews

There’s no paperwork to do, there’s no assignment they need to ship out for in the morning, and they’ve gone ahead and tidied up the bed racks for good measure. They could play some Sabbac to kill the time, but they’ve either lost or misplaced more than half the deck, and they don’t feel like the lights and thumping bass of the local drinking hole tonight. (It’s just not quite the same as 79’s…) Nobody really has the energy to do much of anything, but given their purpose and training as soldiers, they don’t often have nights like this where they simply do… nothing. Being idle leaves a gnawing feeling of discomfort for many in the 501st, so they’re trying to come up with a plan.

“Uh-oh. Hardcase has his thinking face on.” someone mumbles, growing slightly uneasy.

“I got it. I’m gonna call someone.” Hardcase declares, punching in one of his favorite contacts on the comlink. This makes the ARC troopers slightly nervous. “Not the Captain, I hope-” Fives chimes in warningly. “With any luck he’s just gone to the mess.”

Hardcase shakes his head, grinning broadly before he punches ENTER on the device. “Nah, I’m not calling the Captain right now, I’m callin’ Ember!”

You’re a favorite of the 501st. At least, that’s your theory.

And through one series of events after the other, you've become well acquainted with them and their antics.

Why else would you possibly need to be commed in the middle of a meal? “Don’t answer that.” Captain Rex advises you. You both barely started eating. It’s not an emergency tone. It can wait. But… maybe you should see who it is, first? “Umm… Hardcase is calling me.” you reply. That means one of two likely scenarios.

Boredom, or trouble.

Specifically future trouble.

(Or he’s in trouble.)

You’re at least going to see how urgently you need to scarf down your meal so the Captain has time to enjoy his for once in three blue moons. “Hello? What's going on Hardcase?”

“Hey little flame, you wanna do something tonight? We’re bored!”

“Define bored…” You’re gonna regret asking that, you’re sure. “And who’s “we” exactly, Hardcase? How many others are listening?” The jumbled cacophony of names and voices tells you it’s mostly Torrent Company, which you pretty much expected. “... hi Echo and Fives… hello Dogma … hey there Tup, I’m doing okay, thanks… yup, just trying to eat a little dinner, Kix…”

So why exactly did he call you, you ask Hardcase, exchanging wary glances with the cobalt captain. What's going on? "Do you know where we can find a lot of popcorn for a movie night? You and the Captain are invited too of course, little flame!"

Grab your snacks…

The bunkroom has been torn apart by the time you and Captain Rex make your way in from the mess hall, and it smells better than you imagined for military sleeping quarters. Lots of beds are missing mattresses, bedding, and pillows. Except for Dogma's. His is untouched, saved for a slight rumple in the sheets. "Boys, we're here! … Where'd all the stuff go?" You step further into the room, and find all the missing mattresses laid side-by-side on the floor near one end of the room, where everyone's either currently wrangling with the holo-projector, or taking down a few posters from the wall to clear the space that will serve as your "screen". Tup spots the pair of you first. "Oh, good. Captain and Ember are here!"

Hardcase is grateful that you found some popcorn for movie night, and that you could come join in for the fun. "There ya are, burc'ya! Just in time to start deciding on a movie!" He offers to get a jump on getting all the popcorn bags popped too, with the promise it's not going to be like last time. Trying to pop more than one bag resulted in a small fire, last time, evidently.

Jesse and Kix are scouring over the descent film selection together, sorting them by type or genre. Action. Horror. Family-oriented. There's- how'd this kids movie end up in here? Eh, no thanks on the war films, we see enough of that. "What about a comedy?" you suggest, rifling through the stack to see what your pickings are there. There's a couple you do and don't recognize, and some that are tied to fond memories from before the war. "This is a good one, I think most of you guys will like it. I used to watch this a lot whenever I needed a good laugh, or some cheering up."

Everyone agrees to give it a shot at least if that's what you recommend. In any case, it'll be difficult to get everyone to agree on one holo, and more than half of men squeezed around you on this giant raft of mattresses, blankets and pillows will probably fall asleep partway through it anyhow.

… and enjoy the show!

"C'mon Dogma, come join us!" you urge with a friendly smile, seeing him return to his neatly-made bunk. "There's plenty of room, I'm sure." Tup and Hardcase, slightly sprawled next to you on your left, would need to move a bit to make it happen. Echo and Fives are sitting nearest the projector, their shoulders brushing against one another with every little movement. Jesse has positioned himself nearest the Captain, who is also beside you on your right. "It's okay if you don't, either. Nobody's gonna force you." you add pointedly, just as you feel someone start to pull his legs under him to go drag his brother into the tangle of limbs and bedding. Maybe he's more comfortable on his bunk. Or perhaps he's not interested in a film right now.

The lights are dimmed, the snacks are passed around, and the film begins.

You only make it fifteen minutes into the film before there's a casualty: Kix, diligent man that he is to make sure all his brothers are taken care of, falls asleep behind you. "Psst! Kix, can you pass me the- oh nevermind. Ember, could you grab the candy under his arm before it melts?" You carefully wiggle it free and pass it up to Jesse before tucking a loose blanket kicking around over Kix. Generally, once Kix is out, he's out, so the group doesn't have to worry about waking him for a while.

Hardcase stays surprisingly still through most of the movie so long as he keeps his hands mostly occupied in some capacity, or has one of his brothers leaning on him in some way. He's a very tactile person, so it's no surprise that he's slowly migrating around the raft of mattresses as each of his brothers either allow Hardcase to fiddle around with stuff he finds in their pockets, or just hold him close in a brotherly embrace for a bit if he's getting too disruptive. (He eventually settles down around the midpoint of the movie, and is one of the few who stays awake through the whole thing.)

Tup pays attention to most of the comedy film, occasionally conversing in whispers with Fives and Echo about their opinions on the jokes until Echo nods off for a bit, and the hushed conversation continues back up again when he wakes up before movie's end. It's Jesse who's not paying much attention to the film, but he's not too disruptive. Jesse almost makes it to the end of the movie before he falls asleep in the middle of scrolling through something on a datapad that's made its way into the nest of pillows and blankets and limbs, his head resting on Captain Rex's knee.

Dogma does eventually join everyone on the floor. You suspect he was starting to feel a little left out, or maybe he changed his mind about the offer you made earlier, growing bored of whatever he'd been reading on his datapad, or deciding he'd give the movie a try. He tentatively makes his way over, and asks if he can still sit by you. "Of course, Dogma. Here, I saved some popcorn for you!" You give him the rest of the bowl you'd set aside for him, unable to get up and give it to him yourself since you've got multiple people surrounding you. (You didn't want Dogma to miss out on the snacks just because he wasn't initially watching the movie with everyone.) "Thanks for saving me some, Ember." Captain Rex reaches behind you and gives Dogma a warm pat on the shoulder. "Glad you joined us, brother." There's an unspoken finally in his words, but he's just glad to see that Dogma didn't end up isolating himself for long.

You and Captain Rex, being firmly in the middle of the mattress pile, end up being the ones who become the human pillows of the group. It's nice to see all your friends having fun tonight, and be a part of enjoying a movie together. No stiff, uncomfortable armor; everyone's either in their fatigues or their blacks, and draped over and across their friends and brothers. Everyone is content and full of maybe a little too much popcorn and other snacks. You'll have a heck of a mess on your hands to clean up, either in the morning, or when everyone returns their respective mattresses to their bunks tonight, too.

Nights like this are how it should be. Everyone's happy and there are signs of trust everywhere you look. Brothers let their sleeping siblings rest on their shoulders, against their backs, their legs, or under their arms without complaint. There are sleepy smiles and shared blankets. Those who stayed awake until the end are now joking happily with one another and their Captain, and you too.

And for a moment, in this night that will become a cherished memory no matter which way this war winds up, everyone you care about is safe.

And what could be better than that?

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

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moiravim · 10 months

Text

I Miss When We First Met: Chapter 11

YN Potter falls in love with Draco Malfoy. Along with that, her relationship with her brother, Harry begins to fall apart as she was sorted into Slytherin. Will Harry find out about the relationship between his enemy and his sister?

IMWWFM: Masterlist

-Year 2-

Arriving back at the train station for your second year made you feel nervous.

You and Neville weren't speaking, Harry's still mad at you, and whatever you and Draco have going on is just confusing.

So going back to a school with no friends wasn't exactly ideal for your 12 year old mind.

Walking into the brick post, you ended up being one of the first people in platform nine and three quarters.

Tapping your foot anxiously as you wait for the train to arrive. You look around as you see more people arriving to the train as well.

You look towards the brick post and sew Neville come out. You contemplate walking up to him, feeling like you should apologize.

You decide to set your bag down near a bench and walk up to him, As you look back towards where he was,he's gone.

You stand up straight and look around trying to spot him and see him coming up to you.

You smile slightly as he reaches you. "Hi..." you say awkwardly. "Hey yn... how was your summer?" Neville questions shyly.

"It was... alright. How was your summer?" You ask

"My summer was good, a lot of free time, to, know? I did think about what happened before I left, and I wanted to apologize, I shouldn't have gotten so mad when you told me you had a crush on Draco, and I'm sorry." Neville says as he looks down as his feet.

You put your hand on his shoulder before saying, "It'd ok Neville, don't feel bad, alright?"

As Neville looks up,you pull him into a hug, his head falling on your shoulder.

As you pull apart, you hear the train arriving. You pick your bag back up, looking towards Neville; "Do you wanna sit with me?" You question wiring a hopeful smile.

"Yes, of course. I've missed you so it'll be good for us to catch up!" He exclaims before you both walk towards the train.

Walking down the aisle of the train gave you a sense of deja vu. Remembering when you first met Draco, shaking your head to rid your mind of him.

You and Neville find a compartment with no one else in it and set your stuff down. As you're about to sit down, you see a red-headed girl walk into your compartment.

"Can I sit with you guys? It's my first year and my brother is sitting with his friends." She questions, looking at you and then Neville.

"Yes, of course you can." You and Neville say with a smile.

You help her put her bags away, sitting back down, you pat the seat next to you. Inviting her to sit next to you.

"So what's your name again? I remember meeting you before with Harry, but I can't exactly remember your name." You say as your hand rubs the back of your neck, feeling slightly awkward.

"My name is Ginny Weasley, your yn right?" She states with a smile.

"Yep! And this is Neville!" He waves to Ginny and grins.

The three of you continued to chat until you reached Hogwarts. You had a feeling this year would be much better.

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wei-otter · 2 years

Text

Never Forgotten //Vader x F!Reader / Ch 1

(A/N, hiii! I’ve never written before but the awesome @dokoni-mo and other anons on the page encouraged me to give it a shot. sorry abt grammar lollll i was better at science than english. i honestly have no idea what i’m doing loll, but all i know is i love vader and i love the community on here! thank you guys for being here!)

You and Anakin grew up together on Tatooine. Once the time came, he continued on to become a jedi knight while you became a medic. Years later you are once again reunited, only he is no longer the boy you knew on Tatooine. He is now Darth Vader, feared with lord. Was this a cruel trick of time? or was it your destiny all along.

Warnings: slavery, mentions of broken bones, terrible punctuation

_________________________________________

The bright suns adorning Tatooine’s warm sky served as your morning alarm. With a yawn you got up and got ready to head to the junkyard to assist your “employer” Watto. You grabbed your small backpack full of bandages and other first aid equipment, usually there would be some incident where someone would need patching up and you were the only one who seemed to actively care. You didn’t really know how you ended up on Tatooine, orphaned, and working for a low life junk dealer. What you did know was the only thing keeping you going were the Skywalkers, Watto’s slaves.

You arrived at Watto’s depot and surveyed the area for your Watto’s youngest slave, Anakin. Searching around the sand covered scraps you finally found him crouched over, collecting bolts in a small sack. Quietly creeping up on him you pounced onto his back.

“Ahhh” he shouted

“Hey Ani! What’s up?” You asked

“The suns, duh” he retorted

Rolling your eyes you told him that’s not what you meant. He responded with a small smirk.

“Where’s Watto?” You asked

“Out, I guess, I think he went to make a trade the next town over”

Nodding, thank the stars, Watto made you feel as if you needed to take a bath every time you ran into him, but he was the only one interested in a “free child” when you were found. Most wondered why he didn’t just make you a slave, but in his own weird way he felt bad for you (odd coming from him). So he allowed you a room in his junk yard and the title of “service apprentice”, though in reality you were just a glorified slave.

Tugging on your arm, Anakin pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Come on, lets go back to my house, I wanna fix up my droid”

Upon arriving at Mos Espa’s slave quarters, you saw Shmi, Anakin’s mother, cleaning machinery outside of their house.

“ Mom! I found the rest of the parts!” Ani exclaimed

Shmi turned with a smile, “That’s wonderful darling! I see you brought back someone else too! How are you today F/N?”

“I’m doing great since Watto’s gone”

She bent down to your height and winked “me too”

She walked inside and you smiled, turning to follow Anakin. Abruptly you were stopped by a child’s cry. Though you were only a child yourself, you felt the obligation to help everyone. You ran over to a girl, only a few years younger than you and held her cheek.

“What happened?”

Through her sobs she managed to say she tumbled over something on the stairs. She told you her parents were with their master so she was all alone.

“Ok, it looks like you may have broken your ankle, I need to look at it, to see for sure. This might hurt, so just hold onto me, ok?”

She nodded with tears in her eyes. Slowly you lifted her pant leg, she flinched and tightened her grip on you. Getting a better look at the leg of saw it was in fact broken, and there was a large scrape on her small knee. Sighing, you took out some bandages and ointment from your bag. You dabbed at the scrape and placed the healing ointment on it. As for the leg, you looked around and found a small stick that you created a makeshift brace with. After wrapping her leg you gave her something to numb the pain.

“It’s gonna be ok, your mommy will be back soon, alright?”

You placed her on your back and brought her into the Skywalker’s house. Shmi noticed the other child and rushed over to you.

“What happened?!”

You handed the toddler over to her and explained, she thanked you for looking out for the kid.

“ Thank you F/N, You are so responsible, I just know you will do great things”

You smiled and walked outside to locate your friend. Abruptly Anakin grabbed your hand, your eyes widened as he was almost nose to nose with you.

“Come on, I want you to be the first to see R2!”

He wanted to show you?

First?

You blushed a bit and squeaked out an “ok”. Roundish the corner you saw the can shaped droid and smiled. Ani really was a talented mechanic.

“F/N this is R2! And R2 this is my best friend F/N”

R2 blinked and beeped at you, laughing as you waved back.

“Wow Ani! This is awesome! You’re so smart!”

He smiled, “thanks F/N, but I’m not the one healing people, that’s all you.”

He noticed.

__________________________________________

Later that evening the suns were beginning to set and Watto was back. He, Shmi, Anakin, and you were in the corridor of Watto’s shop. Shmi cleaned the new trade he brought back, Anakin organized some inventory, you made Watto’s food, while Watto watched you three work.

“Ouch!” Anakin cut himself on a jagged scrap. Before his mother could even turn and react, you were by his side taking care to disinfect it.

Shmi watched tenderly at the scene before her, in her heart she wished for you two to stay by each other's side.

“Look at you two, I can already hear the wedding bells”

You and Anakin looked up at her

“Ewww, gross mom”

You laughed along but deep down you wanted her implication to come true. From his chair Watto let out a wheezy laugh, drinking from his bowl

“If those two get married they better stay working for me. We’ve got a mechanic and a medic, one who can cook at that, heh”

The three of you awkwardly laughed along. Continuing with your respective tasks you couldn’t help but feel down at Anakin’s response, “eww”? You felt your heart sink as you played that over and over.

Little did you know he was replaying your laugh in his head.

“I was gonna just agree, but she laughed at the idea. I guess I was wrong about her feelings…”

He decided not to dwell on the interaction. At least you were still here with him, even if not in that way.

Weeks later some strangers walked into the junkyard two men in odd robes and one girl, looking only a few years older than you. You were going to greet Anakin as he walked in, but he didn't see you. Instead he shifted his focus on the other girl.

“Are you an angel?”

Your heart fell.

“what?” She asked

“An angel, I heard the deep space pilots talk of them. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe”

You felt like crying, you were there when he overheard the pilots, you discussed what angels would look like with him. What hurt more was that she did, she did look like one. How could you ever compare? __________________________________________

The men, known as Jedi, finally left with the girl, “Padme”. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest. You had Ani back, though he was different. He had a new passion about him. He had a purpose.

He explained to you that he would become a Jedi. He was the chosen one.

After the first few weeks he stopped bringing up that girl, much to your delight. You two became Ani and F/N again.

For the years leading up to Anakin’s departure to Coruscant you two became closer than ever, basically glued to each other's side. And with your growing bond, your feelings grew too. You loved Anakin. How could you not? You wished endlessly for some way to follow him down the path of the jedi, but you simply could not. Not only was your life set down a different path, Anakin would not allow you to follow him.

“This life is a dangerous one. I don’t think I would be able to bear it if something happened to you.”

He never outright said it, but you hoped this was his way of telling you he loved you. You were deeply saddened because you knew the ways of the Jedi from Ani’s explanations. There was no room for love or attachments in that world. Plus you figured you two would not see each other for many years once you went to study medicine and he went to train.

__________________________________________

Once the faithful day arrived you woke up bright and early to see Anakin off. You were there with R2, C-3PO, Shmi, and his new master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He hugged his mother and said bye to his droids then came to you.

“Hey, don’t be sad F/N, we will meet again, I’ll make sure of it. And in the future I won't just be some boy from Tatooine. I will be Anakin Skywalker, the chosen Jedi knight, i'll be somebody.”

You clenched your jaw trying to keep your tears in. Looking into his eyes you jumped into his embrace.

“You already are somebody Ani”

You could feel him smile. You wanted to finally tell him your true feelings, but were stopped by an unknown force. You met Obi-Wan’s gaze, he looked at you as if to scold you. He saw how you two were, he saw your bond, he now needed you to let Anakin go. You closed your eyes and held him tighter. You finally let go and couldn’t help the tears streaming down your face. Anakin softly brushed away your tears and Shmi came over to hold your hand as she kissed her son’s head. Anakin pulled away and gave one last look before turning to board the ship.

You felt an intense feeling of dread. Deep down you knew this was the last time you would see your Anakin Skywalker.

Their ship took off and right away you turned on your heels and began your own departure. You were off to study methods of medicine throughout different systems. Anakin was not the only one with a big future and big obligations. You may not have lived with your loved ones as a child, but you wanted to do all in your power to make sure others could have a chance with theirs.

You were closing your bag when Shmi came over to you, she laid a loving hand on your shoulder

“I’m so proud of you. You and Anakin both have brought me so much joy I cannot begin to explain. My son will be protecting others and you will be healing them.”

Already emotional you melted into her arms. She brushed your hair with her worn hands.

“I know he never said it, but a mother always knows. He loved you too.”

****

(A/N, thank you guys sm for reading!! don’t worry there will be actual vader in the next one!!)

taglist: @dokoni-mo, @wizardofrozz, @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester

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lostonehero · 2 months

Text

In which Martin gets to be supernaturally strong because it causes gay panic in the office.

"Martin, aren't you hot?" Jon raised his brow. They were all stuck at a mandatory summer festival for the institute. He motions to Martin wearing long pants and a sweater.

Martin rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, yeah, but I don't think... uh..."

Tim pats his back, making him jump. "Nobody is going to judge you, Martin. If they do, they will have to deal with me."

"And me." Sasha smirks.

Martin smiles softly as his face burns red. "I uh ok..." He squirres off to a bathroom with his bag.

Jon sighs. "If he wears a binder, I don't see the problem." He motions to his own binder.

"Jon dysphoria is different for everyone." Sasha hums. "But I don't think Martin is Trans.... ah, I think he said his friends are coming by as well."

Jon rolls his eyes. "I know that, but he shouldn't risk heat stroke. However, that would get him out of this mandatory fun."

Tim waves Jon off. "Oh, come on, Jonny boy, it's going to be fun."

"Don't call me that." Jon scowls.

Martin returns in shorts and a tank top, he looked as they imagined chubby, but oddly solid. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles nervously. "I was using it as an excuse to not participate." He was covered in freckles and tattoos.

"Did not take you for the tattoo type, Martin." Tim chuckles. "You've got nice ink."

"Oh, thank you, Tim." Martin smiles softly. "I'm covered in them."

Jon looked unimpressed. "We can see that." He goes to say something else but is interrupted by a shout.

"HEY MARTIN!" A short man with black hair and a prominent scar from being struck from lightning on his face that travels down to his shoulder and arms and chest. His shirt is boldly read.'Got struck by lightning, and all I got was this shirt (and trauma).' he was wearing bright blue shorts that said 'behold this asshole' on the back.

A taller man in a tank top was next to him, his shirt read 'Death Adores Me'. In bright pink barbie letters. He was wearing matching shorts to the shorter man. He had green eyes and blonde hair and sharp features. His body looked like it was carved out of stone.

Tim wolf whistles and the smaller man huffs.

"He's mine." The shorter man huffs.

"Mike relaxed, would ya?" The blonde man chuckles. "You must be Tim it's nice to meet you." He holds a hand out, and Tim noticed he was wearing gloves and that was odd.

Martin smiles and gasps. "Ah, right, that's Oliver, and that's Mike... why are you wearing that shirt?"

Mike chuckles. "It was a gift."

"It was a joke." Oliver rolls his eyes and smiles.

Tim chuckles. "I like it."

"Don't encourage him." Oliver sighs. "Anyway wanna join us for some games? I heard there's some strength tests."

Jon raised his brow. "No thanks."

Tim pulls Jon into a half hug. "What he meant to say was yes, of course! Oh, this will be fun."

"I'll be the best." Sasha winks.

Martin nods. "Yeah, sure, it will be fun."

......

Elias was holding a cane up pointing to a sign. "Ah, hello, there wasn't to test your strength?"

"Simon told me you lost a bet. I didn't think it would be in your favor." Mike raised his brow.

"Aha, that's quite funny." Elias smiles. "I am merely running a booth. This is supposed to be a fun day for everyone."

Mike exchanges looks with Oliver, then to a gruff muscular man in swim trunks and nothing else with his arms crossed on a seat for a dunk tank. Before he could speak Tim moves up front.

"Hey, double boss man! What game you got?" Tim smiles, pulling Martin up front.

Elias hums and smiles. "Oh, a simple test of strength. Just use the mallet to try to hit the bell on top." He knew it was rigged, and it was fun watching people get annoyed. He really wanted to run a fortune teller tent, but he did lose a bet, and he is a man of his word.

Tim went first and barely made it a quarter of the way up.

"Oh, how unfortunate. Better luck next time, Timothy." Elias chuckles.

Sasha goes next she gets about the same. "Ah, wow, I didn't think the hammer would be so heavy."

Elias hums. "Good work, Miss Sasha, but not quite there. Remember, any employee who rings the bell gets two weeks paid vacation."

Tim huffs crossing his arms. "Now you mention that."

Jon refuses the mallet. "I'm not one for brute force."

"That's a given boss man." Tim rolls his eyes.

"What do you get if you don't work here?" Oliver steps up grabbing the hammer.

"Ah, there's a commutative cash prize for non employees Oliver. Of course, it cost 5 quid to play. You are always welcome to try." Elias hums.

"Let me guess if nobody wins it all goes to the institute." Mike rolls his eyes at the nod.

Oliver takes out a five and places it in the overflowing jar. "Ok, I'll give it my best." He takes a step back and hits it full force, only getting three quarters up. "Oof, that's harder then it looks."

Tim whistles. "Alright, Adonis."

Olive chuckles handing the mallet over to Martin. "Don't break it."

Martin huffs. "That was one time, and the mallet was wooden, and it was an accident."

Elias raised his brow and smiled. "Alright alright boys play nice. Go ahead, Martin." He quirked his brow higher when Mike and Oliver pulled Tim and Sasha back to where Jon was watching.

Martin steps back and holds the mallet up.

Elias suddenly felt way too close.

The mallet slams down hard with a loud crack it shatters on impact, and the bell is deafening as that cracks in two from the impact.

Martin dusts off the wooden shards and jumps back as the bell falls in front of him. His face was red from embarrassment, and eyes stared at him in astonishment. "Ah shoot.... sorry, sir. I didn't mean to break it."

Elias was speechless, and he could see Peter staring at the scene with the same slack jaw expression.

#tma #the magnus archives #strong martin rights #martin blackwood

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brimbrimbrimbrim · 1 year

Text

The Bear and The Baker: Chapter Two - SEPARATE (NSFW)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five

Summary: She’s relatable and willing to help him figure out how to stop spiraling down a dark hole of anxiety, but she’s pretty and sweet and knows what to say and do… and Carmy just can’t help himself.

Tags: friends to lovers, UST, RST, pining, wet dreams, masturbation, lots of food talk, reader used to be a pastry chef, mental health, panic attacks, anxiety, meditation, oral sex, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation, handjob, desk sex, first times, virginity, mild dom/sub undertones, kitchen sex, love confessions

Words: 3.5k

TW: panic attacks

“Yeah, but is she hot? Now that's the real fuckin' question. The million-dollar question." Cousin asks at the counter, stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth. Always the subtle asshole, Carmy thinks as Sydney turns the lock on the door and flips the closed sign to face.

"Who's hot?" She asks with a side smirk that has Carmy wanting to leave them all to scrape the floors by themselves.

Cousin laughs, mouth full, "This fucking new age broad Carmy's got some hot date with. Or did. Feminist type or some shit. Can you fucking believe it?!"

"It's not like that, Cousin," he mutters, logging out on the tablet and into the admin account. In truth, he’s barely paying any attention to Richie, not since he knocked over Tina’s potatoes while chasing Flek down the line, something he’d been repeatedly told not to fucking do.

"Even if she is hot, which, I'll believe it when I see it, bitches like that go fuckin' insane. My last date-"

"Oh," Sydney crosses her arms at the door, baring her teeth in a vicious smile, "Because of course you, Richie, would have something against women that actually think for themselves, right?"

"Hey! Don't put fucking words in my mouth, Syd. Not today, baby."

“Don’t say baby,” Carmy mutters, trying to figure out the checkout system after the newest update. It’s giving him a fucking headache on top of the two standing around him.

"What?” Syd balks at Richie. “Did you have a hard day? Doing… what exactly? Hitting on college girls during the lunch rush?!"

"Yo! I'll have you know she was hitting on me, and furthermore-"

Carmy lets it all go to static, just like chatter from pots and pans. It's the end of the day, quarter past nine already. Dinner was chaotic for a Saturday, and everyone's tightly wound and eager to get rocked—fucked up. All he can think about is tallies and new systems and this fucking tablet that's making him nauseated, not to mention the fact he had to cancel with her tonight.

“I mean, who meets chicks at therapy? All I'm saying!”

“For your information, some people take their mental health seriously instead of repressing it into some fickle macho bullshit that barely fools anyone.”

“Uncalled for. Hurtful. Fuckin' hateful is what that is. You hearing this shit, Cousin?!”

Richie slaps him on the back, and Carmy tenses, shaking him off. He thumbs the greasy screen and taps the print button to send the day's sales to his office, rapping the counter with his other hand, knuckles raw on the surface.

Carmy didn't wanna do it—blow her off, but there's a roiling boil of stomach acid in his gut that nine TUMS hasn’t fixed and this simmering anger in his chest he didn't wanna subject her to. He's been better these days at keeping his blood pressure down, mostly, but today was a fuckin' mess, and they're closed Sundays now, which means he's gotta watch everyone like a hawk so they don't clock out too early before cleaning up Saturday night's shitshow.

“Deflect all you want, Richie, but you're fucking terrified of women. Just admit it.”

“Fuck you…”

Carmy feels a vein in his temple bulge. "Both of you, shut the fuck up! We're cleaning. Unless you both wanna be here until midnight!"

"Yes, Chef," Sydney says through her teeth and stomps to the kitchen while Richie lingers, huffing and puffing.

Carmy turns off the tablet and leans over the counter on his forearms, his mind immediately returning to canceling the evening with his… Well, whatever she is. Her texts seemed unphased when he asked for a rain check, but… people either came across fine or pissed through text. Carmy can’t imagine her ever being pissed off… not like the rest of them, especially not like him, though it’s been eating at him for the past few hours now.

Plus, he’s not a pretty sight.

He runs his nails against his scalp, wincing at the sweat-sticky pomade, reeking of sharp labor and anxiety. There's no fucking way this chick could be into him—no way he wants to see her without a hot shower and some cologne. Richie's just full of shit…

'She's probably just after some sad dick. These girls get to a certain age, and something about a baby bitch like you gets them going. Fuckin' ridiculous.'

"Hey," another slap on the back, this time softer, "you okay, Cous?"

"Fine."

Richie scoffs, "Look, man, just… fucking forget what I said before, alright. Just hard to picture you getting laid, is all. I mean, you never were good with the ladies."

"She's hot," Carmy admits, palm-cupping his forehead. He nods into his hand and squeezes his eyes shut, remembering her sitting across from him at the coffee spot down the block from the chapel, a cup of tea resting against her lower lip as the steam made her eyes misty and her cheeks color. So fuckin' soft all swallowed up in hand-knit sweaters and the lofty smell of apples and freshly milled flour wafting off her.

"How hot we talkin?" Richie asks, curious and cautious.

"… really hot."

Richie chuffs a humorless laugh and shifts on his sneakers, "Well, don't bring her 'round here then."

"She's nice too," Carmy continues, sorta lost in the exhaustion of the day, "and-and been through shit, ya know. Used to be a fuckin’ pastry chef. And it just-it feels nice just talking to her. She knows what to say."

He shakes his head into his sweaty palm and sighs, full-bodied and so fucking tired. "I dunno. I’m not good at this fuckin' shit."

"Yeah," Cousin agrees, quiet, "… me neither."

Carmy bites his tongue, not willing or able to admit anything too personal. Usually, they're good at reading one another's tone and body language, but Richie's none the wiser when Carmy quietly straightens up the front before heading into the kitchen…

… and by the time he's done cleaning—fingers pruned and sweat running off his nose—he feels far too soiled to do more than shower, eat a PB&J, and pass out on the sofa.

His phone buzzes on the coffee table, leaking into nightmares about today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

Somewhere between the sizzle of burning butter and ear-whispered threats of useless talent, he feels flesh grilling under his fists. That violent contact goes soft, smooth… like buttercream, and then creamed as he licks into a hot neck, fingering something soaked and tight.

The kitchen is on fire as he grinds his hips up, replacing digits with cock, drinking down her sobs that look bad—painful and sad—but Carmy knows they're really fucking good cause his are good too… just, fucking her against the counter, her naked skin dusted with flour, while Richie and Syd argue about the new menu.

'Carmy…' she says like she's cuddling him on a park bench, but they're bucking and slamming... feeling each other up with each thrust. Skin starts to spank like soaked meat; the slap of beef on a chopping block.

He's gonna cum…

His phone chimes and Carmy's awake with a sharp inhale, drenched in sweat, fingers already snapping under his waistband, shoving a hand over sweat-matted curls to wrap around his stiff cock. When was the last time he's been this hard? Fucking high school… fuck…

It was just a dirty fantasy, but… Carmy hisses at the sleepy pleasure, going from faded to sharp, then hot, almost as hot as her pussy in his dream. Slippery precum lubes his fist up—a drop of molten syrup—and he wastes zero fucking time in beating off under the loose cotton sweats heavy with terror sweat.

A few strokes in—all muscle memory and instinct with the panic interlaced by lust—he throws his head back. "F'ffffuuuuuck!"

Carmy feels it build in a second, spilling over in another, and then he's gripping the back of the sofa, hips jarring up as he cums… cums real slow… and fuckin' hard into his navel, whining brokenly into the dark living room like it's been months since he came…

… and it might as well be for the way it lingers long after he's milked the last dribble into the puddle staining his stomach.

Ding. Ding.

Carmy freezes, sticky palm still cradling his soft cock, fluids going tacky between his fingers, and looks at the phone faceup on the coffee table. The apple (red delicious) he took a picture of at the restaurant glows in the dark, and it's so fucking red.

Still hazy—loose, and sleep-weak—he tugs off his shirt. Shaken and stirred, he wipes up the strings of semen stuck around his limp dick, trapped in the damp curls at the base, before swinging his feet over to pick up his phone, shirtless and locked with tension.

His lips twitch at the apple and her message.

'I know it's late, but crap woke me up, so I made this.'

There's a picture of blueberry scones with reduced berry syrup sprinkled in confectioners’ sugar; her thumb’s up is in the foreground. Carmy smiles softly despite the dream, practically smelling the vanilla warmth of butter and sugar.

His thumbs hover over the keys, coming up blissfully blank from jerking off only minutes ago, then swallows cold nerves as three dots appear above the keyboard. Fuck.

Blip.

Another message makes his heart flip-flop. The orgasmic euphoria quickly settles down as the laissez-faire mood from his flashing, blood-pumping nightmare of a wet dream goes a little shy when she sends another photo: a selfie of her biting into a piping hot scone, some flour streaks over her nose and cheek. Covered in flour… just like his dream…

Blip.

'Kinda left them in too long, but they’re okay.'

Carmy remembers her telling him, over coffee, how she still bakes to calm her nerves, even if she has no one to share it with these days.

Blip.

'Hope you’re having nice dreams, Carmy.'

Fuck. Fuck. Carmy feels caught red-handed… lighter but dirty, not just from the orgasm, but by some relaxed, cozy emotion he can only recall from being young, cooking food, and staying up past curfew. That last day of school feeling… all improperly mixed with this sexual desire that's not precise… no order. Just a big fucking mess.

His head's clear now, though. Sorta.

Carmy contemplates texting her back, scratching at his chin and rubbing over his mouth, only to smell the odor of cum and feel a stirring in his sweats again. Like some stupid fucking teenager, he thinks, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and chewing on his lower lip.

With a swallow, he sinks back into the sofa cushions and taps over his screen: 'Looks delicious, Chef. I'm awake. Trouble sleeping. You gonna eat all those by yourself?'

Minutes pass in shrouded silence, and he's about to sit up, move to the bed, and hope for more sleep, but his phone blips again, and his face heats up.

'Was thinking about giving them to the neighbors, but I could bring you a few if you want some company? Or are you going back to sleep?'

He sinks further into the cushions, heart fluttering.

'No. No, I'm up. Hard going back to sleep after nightmares.'

'Heard, Chef.'

Carmy smirks at the lingo—the joke?—a witty retort, maybe. She's funny, pretty, smart… caring, and…

'So, are you up to meeting for coffee again, or should I stop by your place?'

He pauses, rubbing the sides of the phone, and feels like…

… are they flirting?

Without thinking, his thumbs pass over letters, speaking from someplace where that dream had been before he came to.

'My place. You bring dessert, and I’ll make dinner.' Carmy isn't sure who the fuck he is. It sounds slick and smooth and natural, nothing like the stuttering loser he tries so hard to hide an apron behind. He blames the abrupt orgasm he woke up to, which no doubt fueled that ballsy text…

Three more dots.

Blip.

'I think technically this would qualify as breakfast. What's in your fridge? I could get some take-out and save you the hassle.'

'My treat. How about spaghetti? Homemade.'

'Sold.'

And that's how Carmy finds himself cooking Michael's sauce at four-thirty in the morning with a candle burning, and the window cracked, hoping the smell of good food and 'clean linen' will eliminate the smell of sex and cigarettes that hangs under his nose. He cleaned up a few things while the garlic caramelized, not used to having company, mostly never. But something told him she wouldn't appreciate the overflowing ashtrays and empty soda cans. He threw his dirty work clothes in the hamper, made the bed, and changed clothes… even took a washcloth to his cum-dried cock and the musky stain beneath his navel. Not that there was much chance of anything happening…

Carmy glances at the cracked bedroom door from the stove, adds the fresh herbs, and gives the pan a toss. His head fills with images of laying next to her under the covers—wrapping a hand around the front of her throat while hollowing her out from behind, fingers over her clit—kissing her neck while palming her breasts… just… there’s too much he wants to touch and grope and lick…

"Fucking Christ. Get it together…"

The water is boiling, and the sauce is simmering when his phone goes off in his pocket. He tugs it out while unboxing the pasta and sniffs up nerves as he stares at the screen.

'I'm outside. Didn't wanna knock and wake anyone else up.'

She's way too fucking considerate. Way too nice for some uptight asshole like him.

Carmy lowers the temp on the sauce and wipes his hands clean before unlocking the door to the object of his most recent wet dream. Immediately his cheeks heat up, lips slacking at the sight of her—nothing special, no makeup, nothing fancy… just some leggings and a baggy sweater, a little bleary-eyed from lack of sleep but beautiful. Plus, she’s holding a paper bag with butter stains on the bottom.

"Mornin' or umm… night," he gets out, sniffing loudly through the blush on his face, his pulse jumping. "You, uh, you look good and smell good—I mean, those smell good." He nods at the bag.

Her laugh is quiet and molasses thick. "For a sleepy mess, sure. Thanks." She smiles and adds quietly, "So do you, by the way."

Carmy swallows hard and thumbs his chin, trying to draw sensation from his flushing face while her eyes skim his cheeks, and her smile widens in his doorway.

"Took a cab, right?" He asks, looking down the hallway outside his apartment as if he was gonna find some fucker tailing her.

"No, I walked here." Her eyes shine, and he's lost for a second before realizing she's joking.

"Right. That's a-uh, that's a good one. Real funny. Uh, well… come-come on in," Carmy stutters, holding the door open as she steps inside. "It's not much, but it's, ya know… home, I guess."

"Fuck, Carmy. It smells amazing in here. And it's cozy, just like you-or, like I pictured you to… live in. Like, I imagined your space would be comfortable. Not that I think about your apartment often or… Jesus…”

Her nose scrunches up, making his stomach twist.

"Sorry, I'm not used to talking to people at this hour. I usually just lay in bed until the sun comes up or… bake… sometimes read if I’m feeling spicy."

"What're you readin' lately?"

Carmy watches her set her phone and the bag on his small countertop bar, spinning in a half circle to take in the cramped living room and tiny open kitchen. "All kinds of stuff. Fantasy, space odysseys, self-help crap… I like horror, or I used to. These days I've been reading happier stuff. Not by choice, though."

He locks the door and deadbolts it, noticing how she just grins at him as he does, with none of that nervous energy she usually exudes. Her attention follows him to the stove, where he breaks the pasta and adds a drizzle of olive oil before covering up the sauce and the water. It's not often he cooks like this for himself, and rarely ever… least not for anyone outside of work.

When he turns around, she’s pulling four scones out from the bag and resting them on some napkins equally stained in butter. The smell overpowers the sauce, almost. His mouth salivates on instinct, catching the notes of buttercream and lemon zest.

"So, what's your favorite book then?" He asks as she slides a scone across the bar, breaking off a corner of her own with a hum before popping it in her mouth.

"Hmm," she intones again, swallows, then presses her lips tight, gaze wandering to the side. Cute. Full. Fuckin' adorable. "I guess 'Leaves of Grass.' It's by Walt Whitman. Lots of prose—a lot of lascivious stuff for the time period. Guy was a free-loving hippy before that was even a thing."

Free loving? Carmy tries not to shrink in on himself at the idea, feeling wholly outside his element. His eyes drop to the blueberry scone in front of him. Suddenly, he’s worried it’ll be amateur and he’ll have to hold his tongue, but as soon as he picks it up and lets the lingering heat soak into his fingers—feels the weight—smells it perfuming his nose—he knows how it’s gonna taste…

… and it’s outstanding. Complex flavors settle into a silky buttery layer of lemons that only amplifies the subtle sweetness. Might not be something a New York bakery would sell, but Carmy finds it on par with Marcus’ meticulously crafted jelly donut.

“Don’t judge me too harshly.”

Carmy shakes his head as he swallows and takes another bite, then another, finishing it off in three big mouthfuls before pressing his thumb and forefinger together.

Once he lets it all hit his tastebuds, he swallows and exhales to really take in all the flavors. “I think you’d put my pâtissier to shame with eight hours of sleep. Drizzle is nice, real bright. Not too sweet.”

“… really?” Her voice wobbles.

Carmy wipes a crumb off his mouth with his thumb and locks eyes with her. She’s blushing, wide-eyed. Her lips look wet like she just licked them. It’s supposed to be innocent looking—just friendly appreciation—but he’s watched porn before, read nudie mags as a teen, and even earmarked a couple of books on how to get women to cum… but he’s never seen a woman look quite like this...

"-and it smells amazing, by the way," she whispers, all hot and sticky.

"Huh?" He blinks, roused from his inspirational thoughts, to watch her color under the fluorescent bulb over the bar. Even in pale blue lighting, she's-

"The spaghetti. It smells delicious. I can't remember the last time anyone cooked for me…"

"It's, uh, a family recipe. Old school."

"Then I'm doubly flattered."

She leans in on her elbows, all smiles, and sleepy eyes. "So, how is the whole clearing your mind going?"

Carmy half-laughs, rubbing one side of his face, cupping his scratchy cheek. "It's been… hard."

He thinks about his dick when he woke up, a hand already around it on the mother fucking edge, and rubs his palm over the resulting blush. "But I tried it out again yesterday. Smoke break. Outside. Just focused on the traffic. I was pissed off—the lunch rush was a mess. Blew up at my sous and Cousin… but when I went back inside, I felt a little less fucked."

She's quiet, just listening. Carmy clears his throat and continues, "Rest of the day was just as fucked, but I felt… I guess, pretty chill? Chill enough, I didn't yell."

Carmy smirks and half-nods into the heel of his hand. "Well, didn't yell as loud as I usually do."

"… that's a start. Also," she says slowly, so soft and sweet. Carmy lifts his gaze and drowns in her eyes. "Your water is boiling over."

"Wh-ah, shit! Fucking shit!"

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#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #the bear #the bear and the baker

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