Fic: Knowing 1/1 (WeeVer) PG-13 Prompt: a storm
Title: Knowing.
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: WeeVer
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes.
Genre: Romance
Prompt: 10. storms at 10_random. Table to be found here.
Summary: Weevil knows a lot about her.
Warnings: No spoiler.
Weevil knew more about Veronica Mars than people thought he did.
He knew that she liked peanut M&Ms mixed in with regular M&Ms, and that she didn’t like blue ones at all.
Weevil also knew that even though she acted tough a good lot of the time there were moments when she was more vulnerable than she would care to admit.
He knew she liked seeing him in his oldest pair of jeans, from the way her eyes always trailed down his legs and back up again.
Veronica pined for a new camera lens. This he knew simply from observing her outside of Henry’s photographs, her nose practically pressed against the window and a wistful look in her eyes.
There are many things Echolls probably never bothered to learn about his now ex-girlfriend and Weevil does feel a certain amount of pleasure that he knows more about V than that rich bitch.
For example, her love for lasagna is surpassed only by her love of a good enchilada, in particular, his abuelita’s recipe.
Weevil also now knows that she can find comfort in his arms, and it’s absolutely amazing when she’s had a bad day and he knows all he has to do to comfort her is take her into his arms wordlessly.
He knows she still misses her mother, misses having a bigger family even though she’s never known one but his. There’s envy there when he hugs his aunts, his uncles but he knows she would never begrudge him his dwindling family.
Veronica has nightmares.
Veronica likes gummy worms.
Veronica shivers when he kisses a certain spot behind her ear.
Veronica likes the way his hand grasp her hips tightly when they make love.
Weevil doesn’t know when it happened, but he’s catalogued so much about her in his head it’s like he doesn’t have room for anything else.
He doesn’t really need room for anything else.
Veronica is afraid of storms.
It is the most surprising thing he learns about her as their relationship grows.
There aren’t many, but when thunder crashes in the air she shudders against him and he gathers her in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.
It’s a routine, and one he doesn’t like.
“Why are you so scared?” he asked one night, his voice hushed as his thumb rubbed gently against the freckle beneath her eye.
Veronica shrugged her shoulders avoiding his eyes.
“What is it about storms?” he’d questioned again, trying to get her to look at him.
“It’s not the storm itself,” Veronica finally told him one night, her forehead pressed against his neck and her breathing a little ragged as thunder crashed down around them.
Weevil had nodded, not sure if he should even say anything, not wanting to send her back into her shell because more than anything he wants her out of it.
“It’s what can happen,” Veronica had continued, her voice cracking. “What can be hidden when it gets loud,” she said softly, a single crystalline tear sliding down her cheek.
Gathering her close Weevil had pressed his lips to her brow, cradling her head in one hand.
“I will always hear you,” he had whispered in her ear. “No matter what. I will always be here.”
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: WeeVer
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes.
Genre: Romance
Prompt: 10. storms at 10_random. Table to be found here.
Summary: Weevil knows a lot about her.
Warnings: No spoiler.
Weevil knew more about Veronica Mars than people thought he did.
He knew that she liked peanut M&Ms mixed in with regular M&Ms, and that she didn’t like blue ones at all.
Weevil also knew that even though she acted tough a good lot of the time there were moments when she was more vulnerable than she would care to admit.
He knew she liked seeing him in his oldest pair of jeans, from the way her eyes always trailed down his legs and back up again.
Veronica pined for a new camera lens. This he knew simply from observing her outside of Henry’s photographs, her nose practically pressed against the window and a wistful look in her eyes.
There are many things Echolls probably never bothered to learn about his now ex-girlfriend and Weevil does feel a certain amount of pleasure that he knows more about V than that rich bitch.
For example, her love for lasagna is surpassed only by her love of a good enchilada, in particular, his abuelita’s recipe.
Weevil also now knows that she can find comfort in his arms, and it’s absolutely amazing when she’s had a bad day and he knows all he has to do to comfort her is take her into his arms wordlessly.
He knows she still misses her mother, misses having a bigger family even though she’s never known one but his. There’s envy there when he hugs his aunts, his uncles but he knows she would never begrudge him his dwindling family.
Veronica has nightmares.
Veronica likes gummy worms.
Veronica shivers when he kisses a certain spot behind her ear.
Veronica likes the way his hand grasp her hips tightly when they make love.
Weevil doesn’t know when it happened, but he’s catalogued so much about her in his head it’s like he doesn’t have room for anything else.
He doesn’t really need room for anything else.
Veronica is afraid of storms.
It is the most surprising thing he learns about her as their relationship grows.
There aren’t many, but when thunder crashes in the air she shudders against him and he gathers her in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.
It’s a routine, and one he doesn’t like.
“Why are you so scared?” he asked one night, his voice hushed as his thumb rubbed gently against the freckle beneath her eye.
Veronica shrugged her shoulders avoiding his eyes.
“What is it about storms?” he’d questioned again, trying to get her to look at him.
“It’s not the storm itself,” Veronica finally told him one night, her forehead pressed against his neck and her breathing a little ragged as thunder crashed down around them.
Weevil had nodded, not sure if he should even say anything, not wanting to send her back into her shell because more than anything he wants her out of it.
“It’s what can happen,” Veronica had continued, her voice cracking. “What can be hidden when it gets loud,” she said softly, a single crystalline tear sliding down her cheek.
Gathering her close Weevil had pressed his lips to her brow, cradling her head in one hand.
“I will always hear you,” he had whispered in her ear. “No matter what. I will always be here.”