1moreff-creator · 1 day ago
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I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts on Ace and Teruko as friends. Like, I can see it working maybe? Outside of the killing game, preferably. (Given how it's too late for that, in light of recent events)
Hey! Certainly an interesting dynamic! Admittedly, Teruko's bad luck might scare Ace a bit too much for it to easily work, but it might be easier if Teruko can convince him of her apparent immortality. Ace would probably appreciate an immortal friend given his last friendship ended with Tayor six feet under :v
This got longer than I expected so we're putting in a read more!
Once the friendship itself is established (as you requested, outside of the killing game), it would probably be pretty fun! I kinda imagine it as the sort of friendship where they're constantly making fun of each other, to the point where it's hard to tell from afar whether they love (platonic) or hate each other. Just a lot of Teruko deadpanning at Ace's cowardly nature while Ace is constantly yelling at her, only for her to roll her eyes and throw jabs back. How does it work? Only they know.
Teruko's certainly the brains and impulse control of the friendship; Whit would probably joke about her putting a leash on Ace on more than one occasion. Teruko's probably one of the only people who can get Ace to calm down when he's mad at someone.
Meanwhile, Ace is constantly dragging her around, and Teruko enjoys the antics he gets them into. Provided her luck doesn't seriously injure everyone involved :v
There would probably be more gossip than you'd think. With Ace's penchant for eavesdropping, and Teruko not giving enough of a damn to stop him, they would talk so much shit about other people. I could even see Arei joining them on occasion. Though I imagine Teruko would have enough sense to cut the others off if they go a bit too far.
Ace doesn't mesh all that well with the friends Teruko would have in a non-killing game AU, aka Baking Squad + Mai probably (I'm obviously ignoring West Class Teruko theory for logistics purposes), unless Teruko is around. She'd probably be able to reign him in just enough for Min to tolerate him, Rose to vibe in the group, Eden's Eden so she'd try to be friends with Ace anyways, and Mai's Mai. If Teruko isn't around, Mai can substitute for Ace's impulse control since everyone loves her.
Teruko would also help keep the beef with Nico and Levi to a minimum, which probably wouldn't even be that big of an issue outside of the killing game anyways. That would also help Ace keep civil, if not good, relationships with Hu and Xander.
And while Teruko keeps Ace social life healthy, Ace keeps Teruko in good moods. Whenever she's feeling down, all it takes for her to laugh is walking in on Ace burning down the classroom to kill a spider while Nico and Xander are trying to get him to stop, Min is running in with a fire extinguisher, Rose is somehow sleeping through it as Mai and Eden try to wake her up, and Veronika's cheerfully sharing popcorn with a cackling Arei and a "so done with this shit" Arturo. Well, Teruko would probably freak out while the fire is raging, but laugh about it afterwards.
On angstier days, Ace and Teruko could definitely bond over people close to them getting hurt (Taylor and pick someone from Teruko's past) and feeling like they can't fight their fate. I have... no idea how that would work, but I can see a world where Teruko bullies Ace into trying to get his life together while Ace looks up to Teruko's strength in the face of adversity and tells her she has a better chance of changing her future than he has of changing his. Maybe. Really hard to tell how this would go.
Now I'll go over more specific headcanons of certain things I would imagine could happen if they were friends outside the killing game!
One time, when Ace had a race and he was worried he was going to lose to another jockey, Teruko put a bet of a single dollar on said horse/jockey (I don't know how horse betting works), as a joke to get her bad luck to help Ace. The jockey Teruko put a bet on fell off the horse in the race and almost died. They both agreed Teruko should never ever bet on a horse/jockey again.
Ace: Teruko! Get her the hell away from me! Veronika: Teruko! Do you want to join our horror movie marathon? Most of the class is joining! Teruko [not really interested, just wanting to mess with Ace]: What are we watching? Ace: That's not what-! Veronika: Well, I was thinking of starting with the Headless Horseman- Teruko [smirking, grabs Ace by the back of his shirt]: Sure! Ace: AAAH! [Ace ended up hiding behind Levi and Teruko as everyone, Veronika included, talked mad shit about the movie. Ace was the only one who was even remotely scared. The rest of the movie marathon, Ace was passed out, but the rest of the class enjoyed it well enough]
Teruko, hair smoking and soot on her face: Sorry I'm late, my apartment building caught fire an I had to escape the ambulance. I can't really afford a trip to the hospital right now. Ace, genuinely horrified and worried about his friend, look of shock on his face: ... Ace, now smirking: Skill issue. Teruko, smirking back: Fuck you. [They both laughed about it later, after Ace shouted at Teruko to take better care of herself]
Hope that's enough! Thanks for the ask!
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fadelikeclouds · 2 years ago
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When Win says don’t be afraid of my feelings for you, I was happily surprised that Team took his advice. Because Team is afraid. He’s not sure how Win feels about him. And we know from the uwma version of this scene that Team could have gone with the flow and had a fun time with Win in bed. That’s something that’s easy. It’s a familiar pattern where they decide to feel good physically while putting off their turbulent emotions for later (you know the bathroom scene at the end of 7…). But Team takes Win’s words and decides to be brave, finally asking a question that has been plaguing him.
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It’s an indirect question of, “What do I mean to you?” or “How do you feel about me?” And when Win is gripped by his own fears and hesitates, Team’s own courage falters.
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And that is just too relatable. Because it’s scary to be that vulnerable, and in the silence that follows a complicated question, all the dark thoughts rise to the surface, and all the positive possibilities wither, and all that’s left is the certainty that once again you’ve made a mistake. Shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have expected anything. Of course there’s only going to be disappointment. (Disclaimer: It could also be that I’m just projecting onto Team.)
On Win’s end, I’m wondering if he’s a mind-reader and knows exactly which question Team is referring to. Because there was also this question that Team asked earlier:
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To which Win pulled a reverse uno card and asked:
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The answers to both questions left them with an arrow through the heart. But at that stage, it wasn’t a mortal wound. But now, with everything that has happened, that sort of response would be devastating because they know how much they mean to each other now.
But I digress, the thing with Win is that he is also scared. He tells Win to not be afraid of his feelings, but we also saw earlier that Win is afraid of his own feelings. He’s scared of loving Team because he’s afraid of losing him. And he too is just as confused as Team is about what their relationship is, and is uncertain about whether they agree about where they want to relationship to go. This is a simplistic summary of what’s going on with Win. @thebroccolination wrote an amazing post about Win’s struggles this episode, and so I’ll just leave the discussion here. No paraphrasing can truly do it justice.
In summary, Team used up all his courage to ask a question that terrifies him, hurtling Win straight into his own paralyzing fears. And the episode ends with them both in tears, while I am here pierced through the heart, smiling while I am bleeding out because I have faith that the beginning of the next episode is going to be beautiful. Maybe we will see them actually talk about their insecurities and fears, exposing all their most vulnerable spots, and maybe we will see them find out that its okay to do that with each other, that it’s safe to be their imperfect, messy selves. Maybe we will get to see them realize that even though they feel so broken, there’s someone who reciprocates every bit of their overwhelming need to have each other in their lives. Maybe they will finally give themselves permission to love and be loved.
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ladsofsorrow24 · 2 years ago
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the hokkaido vacation never failed to make me smile
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bvidzsoo · 1 month ago
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Haunted me, haunting you
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⁀➷ District 12 ⭒ District 12 was the smallest and poorest of the thirteen districts of Panem; their main industry is coal mining; victors: Lucy Gray Baird, Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: victor!Song Mingi x female reader
⁀➷ Warning: cursing, ptsd, panic attacks, violence, blood, mentions of death, hunting, injuries ⁀➷ Word count: 19.7k ⁀➷ Rating: mature, nc-17 ⁀➷ Genre: Hunger Games!au; acquittances since childhood to lovers!au, set before Katniss and Peeta became victors ⁀➷ Summary: After the 72nd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?
A/N: Y'all! My lovelies, it's here!! My thesis was about The Hunger Games and I actually came up with the plot back in like...May?? Uh, anyways, no more gatekeeping this story too lmao, let's all thank Choi San for his appearance this weekend at fashion week, because his outfits inspired me to finally write this oneshot and also come up with a story for him, so, stay tuned! ^^ This piece is actually so very dear to me, I absolutely loved writing it and I just really want to hug Mingi in this, so I really hope you'll love it and enjoy it as much as I did while writing. If I forgot to mention any warnings, let me know so that I can fix it, and sorry for any mistakes, they do slip through sometimes when I proofread. Let me know what you thought of this oneshot, your feedback is always greatly appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^ divider
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            His hair was outgrown again, black strands fell into his small and sharp eyes, obscuring them from the world. He had a certain crazed haze in them, irises shaking as the warm brown was overtaken by darkness, a never-ending blackness. The meadow was silent apart from the breeze rustling the leaves, twigs snapping underneath the weight of our feet if we didn’t watch where we stepped. It was quiet apart from the surprised sound I had made and his pants, hurried and frantic as if he was still trying to catch his breath, as if he was frightened by my mere presence. And perhaps he was as our weapons pointed at each other. My hideout had been behind a large bush while his had been behind a tree, wide enough to hide his tall and lanky form. You wouldn’t be able to tell he had lost weight due to the excessive clothes he always wore, but if you knew where to look, you’d spot his sunken collarbones and sharp cheekbones, hands decorated with veins that popped out and a jawline that seemed unnaturally sharp.
My body finally relaxed as it registered no danger, my arm going lax as I lowered my bow and arrow. It took a few more seconds for the man standing in front of me to mirror my actions, eyebrows furrowed deeply with conflict on his face. I knew why he was looking at me like that, a striking reminder of the crimes he was forced to commit, but I didn’t let that deter me from the kindness I always showed to him.
“Hello,” I spoke up softly, mindful of the animals around us and the fact that he was here to hunt too, “I’m sorry for startling you.”
He didn’t speak up, he rarely did when he was in my vicinity—not that he spoke much around people ever since the Games—but that didn’t throw me off from continuously treating him like a human being, something he was, had always been, will continue being. I knew many didn’t treat him like that anymore, everyone threw him glares and spat harsh words at him, but the absent look in his eyes never changed. It was like he wasn’t really there.
“Are you just starting your hunt, by chance?” I questioned, placing my arrow in its holster as I continued holding onto my bow. Despite having lowered his weapon—a bow and arrow, as well—his fingers still curled tightly around the butt of the arrow, almost as if his body refused to relax in my presence. I understood why.
“No.” I tried not to show my surprise when he answered verbally, his voice a low rasp and a deep rumble in his chest. It hadn’t always been like that, when we were younger, his voice used to be squeaky almost like a mouse and oftentimes shrill when he giggled or laughed.
“I have just come out to hunt,” I continued, keeping the soft smile on my lips, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore as I watched him struggle to release his arrow, “Would you like to join me?”
He stiffened again, and I knew why, but his movements became frantic all of a sudden, the arrow slipped in its holster and the bow was back around his wide shoulders. He looked up, face almost pained as he stared at mine deeply, then he shook his head. I didn’t move nor say anything as he suddenly took off, feet tangling in weed and almost sending him flying onto the floor of the forest, but I didn’t help him. I knew he’d hate it, he didn’t let anyone touch him, so I just stayed put and willed myself to watch him as he just barely regained his balance. I wanted to help, but he didn’t allow me, he never has and never will. The meadow was wide, covered in lush green weeds, trees, bushes and colourful flowers, fallen twigs and leaves, logs and rocks, but he still came towards me, not avoiding my body. It was new, most of the time he’d walk around me and not even spare me another glance, but today his eyes were piercing and his stance held more confidence than I have seen in him ever since the Games. My smile didn’t slip off my lips, I was grateful that he wasn’t so keen on avoiding me anymore. But still, almost as if he realized what he was doing, his steps veered away and he went around me just last minute, the fabric of his forest green jacket brushing against my knuckles. I swallowed, nervous for no reason as I turned my head to look after him, “Goodbye, Mingi.”
He flinched when I said his name, he always did and perhaps always will, but instead of ignoring me he looked back too, jaw clenched, but he offered a silent greeting with a nod of his head. My smile widened and his eyes did too at the motion, then he paled, body visibly shaking as he suddenly took off in a sprint, leaving my heart aching and hands trembling as he disappeared from view, my legs giving out as I sat on the muddy floor of the forest. I couldn’t blame him, I never did and I never will, but he made it infinitely harder to cope with the pain of having lost my twin sister because of him.
            The hunt had been successful, I managed to catch four wild ducks, which meant plenty of good coins for a tasty dinner for three. I have started training to become a nurse around a year ago, right after losing my sister, and that meant we were tight on money. I couldn’t say my family struggled much despite being from District 12, but after my sister’s death, it felt like things had slowed down. Money started coming in rather scarcely and it made me realize that she had been an important contributor to our income. Unable to sit back and watch my parents struggle, I decided to follow her path. It had been her dream to become a nurse, to reach the Capitol and become a great doctor, but the Games took both her and her dream away from us. It was a hard blow, it was hard because Mingi could’ve sacrificed himself for a woman who had a whole future planned ahead of herself unlike him, who failed to finish school in his last year and was supposed to work in a mine for the rest of his life. He was selfish, scared, and desperate to remain alive, all reasonable emotions when you’re faced with the choice to kill someone or be killed.
I never blamed him for killing my twin sister, I never hated him for being selfish and shooting his arrow straight into her heart. At least she left this terrifying world quickly and painlessly. I never wished death upon Mingi when my mother wailed while my father held her in his arms and rocked her, sobbing just as loudly as her when the camera span on my sister’s lifeless eyes and face. I never blamed Mingi for her death because he sobbed just as hard as us after the kill, holding her frail frame in his arms as he screamed towards the sky, words unheard as the cameras didn’t record audio too. I didn’t blame him when I found refuge in the meadow my sister loved so much, curled up in a ball in the tall grass as I cried loudly, chest aching and ears ringing until nightfall, when I finally felt empty and numb. And I still didn’t blame him when he returned home, crowned as the winner of last year’s Hunger Games, rewarded with so much money it would last him generations and a house at the Victor’s Village so big three families could fit inside. And despite the pain I felt when the train came to a screeching halt and he got off with empty eyes and sunken cheeks, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, I couldn’t hate him or blame him because the Song Mingi once everyone had known was gone.
The sky had turned darker as the sun hid behind the trees, the moon taking its place in the sky as mist settled upon the forests that surrounded our district. And despite the nightfall, the Hob was alive and buzzing with people who were desperate to trade their goods in exchange for some coins in order to survive another day. The four wild ducks I had caught, I had cut up and taken their feathers off, were displayed on the small table I managed to fetch from behind the building that has seen better days, and I set it up next to an old lady who sold trinkets and jewellery that looked older than even her. I have promised to give her the smaller duck in trade for a silver bracelet that had one pearl. I had never seen a pearl up close, and despite knowing that I’d never wear it, I’d figure out eventually what I wanted to do with it. Perhaps I’ll give it as a gift to my father, since it looked way too big for a woman’s wrist, or perhaps I’ll bring it to my sister’s grave and leave it as a gift to her. I didn’t dwell on the thought much.
The Hob was well-lit despite the old lamps that hung above our heads, and the late summer chill had settled inside, prompting everyone to wear their warmer clothes. I had accepted the battered blanket the old lady handed me when she saw me shivering, and promised to return tomorrow with ointment for her cut-up hands. I couldn’t tell whether she had nobody to look out for her or if her family had simply abandoned her, but I have promised myself after my sister’s death that I would help those who needed help yet couldn’t pay with coins for my services. A flower, cheese and bread, or even a small trinket would be good enough for me, I’d make use of it if it meant I helped a soul that needed attention and care.
Three ducks still sat on the table in front of me and I smiled warmly at everyone who wandered towards me, hungry eyes fixating on the ducks. The man that stood in front of me was a mine worker, I knew him because he worked with my father numerous times before.
“Hello, sir.” I greeted him and his eyes briefly looked up at me.
“Your father must be proud of you for helping out,” He muttered under his breath as he scratched his already irritated neck, “he speaks of you a lot on our breaks. How much for one duck?”
“Five coins will do, sir,” I answered him politely, but as he looked inside his pouch his face had turned ashen, then furious.
“Five is too much, child, who do you think can pay so much?” His voice turned harsh, and the lady next to me cast a glance our way.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I risk my life stepping outside the boundaries of our district, five coins are cheap for my sacrifices and the duck.” I didn’t let him waver my resolve, I knew how people were here. They would try to trick their way out of paying the worth of the items, and I wouldn’t fall for his manipulations. But the man seemed displeased as his fist came down on the table, making me jump. I wasn’t a violent person, but I was glad for the knife that was hidden underneath my clothes, pressing against my hip as a reminder that it was there. The old lady now looked at us, eyebrows furrowing.
“Maybe you should return to your little nursing school and fuck off to the Capitol like your sister had—”
“If you cannot pay five coins, walk along!” The old lady snapped next to me, eyes hardened and voice raised as it turned heads, curious eyes watching the tense exchange. The man threw her a glance and scoffed before he reached inside his pouch and retrieved the coins I had asked for, throwing them on the table as he grabbed one duck and stalked off. I sighed but gave the old lady a thankful smile and collected the coins, crouching down to retrieve one as it had tumbled to the ground. The cacophony of the market seemed to quieten at once until it turned into just murmurs, and I stood back up with a confused look on my face. I was a bit far from the entrance of the Hob and couldn’t see far ahead due to the number of people inside, but when the crowd started parting for a certain person, I understood their reaction.
Despite the camouflage he tried wearing, his clean and thick clothes managed to make him stick out like a sore thumb, his small eyes sharper now that the lower half of his face was concealed by a black silk scarf. He still wore the same jacket as earlier today, a satchel bag sitting against his hip as he wandered further inside the market. People whispered behind his back and stepped aside when he came too close, and I watched as people glared at him behind his back, pointing fingers and no doubt throwing insults at him. I wondered if people from other districts treated their Victors the same way people here treated Mingi. Maybe it was because my sister was a beloved figure in our district, a professional healer and always kind to everyone, maybe it was because Mingi had lost himself halfway into the games and murdered those who crossed his path viciously. Behind all the stares, glares and whispers lay something deeper. It was fear because people were reminded of their animalistic side, of who they could turn into when faced with the question of whether they wanted to live or die. They were scared because everyone knew they would do the same Mingi had done, kill an innocent and kind person in order to survive.
It was almost as if the market had frozen over when Mingi finally reached my humble table, silence so loud it irked my ears as everyone watched on edge our exchange. His eyes didn’t settle on my face for long, reluctant to look at me when so many were watching us, but I just smiled and looked at him with kindness, “Good evening, Mingi.”
I could hear gasps even, mouths hanging open as the Victor halted in front of the ducks I managed to hunt, eyes sweeping over them as if he did a quick count in his head. Even if minuscule, his eyes conveyed surprise and somewhat admiration when we looked up at me again, but upon seeing my smile, his eyes steeled, becoming devoid of any emotion. He nodded his head once in acknowledgement, then swiftly walked off, eyes set on a table that was littered with old and new weapons alike. Mingi had the money to buy the best of the best, but he always came to the Hob, late at night, probably hoping fewer people would be here. He could afford luxuries, but he preferred helping out those in need. He never said anything when they demanded more of him, he just wordlessly handed them the coins and left with a quiet ‘Thank you’. People catalogued him as selfish and ruthless, but he was deeply caring and rather selfless. It all mattered on the perspective you had of him and whether you wanted to spot the good in him or not.
Once Mingi was on his way towards other stalls and tables, the market seemed to regain its liveliness while remaining aware and alert of his presence amongst the crowd. Nobody approached him and nobody spoke to him, the vendors gave him second glances and seemed reluctant to acknowledge him despite the money they knew he could offer them. My eyes remained on his tall form, his shoulders hunched forward, as people passed by my table, sometimes stopping to inquire about the price of the wild ducks. A girl, too young to be here, bounced towards my table as she held onto her mother’s hand, eyes stuck on the ducks. My heart ached at the sight of her frail frame and the ghastliness of her mother’s face, and when she tried to veer her daughter away because they barely had any money, I cleared my throat and stepped around the table.
“Hello,” I greeted them kindly, and smiled at the girl as her eyes shone with enthusiasm, “Would you like to buy some wild duck?”
“We don’t have enough money, sorry.” The mother muttered embarrassed and I quickly shook my head.
“Well, you’re in luck tonight then, because I’m not looking for money.” I have acquired ten coins as I have sold two ducks, and while I still needed at least ten more, everyone had to make sacrifices and I wasn’t about to let them walk away without the duck in a bag and in their hands.
“But—”
“Come.” I beckoned the little girl towards myself, disregarding the mother as her eyes widened, “Which one would you like?”
I crouched down to be at the same height as the girl and she smiled widely at me, eyes sweeping over the two ducks that have remained on the table. She stuck her tongue out as she seemed to analyse both, then pointed to the larger one and I grinned back at her.
“That’s a good one,” I said with a chuckle and the girl shyly ran back to her mom to hide behind her skirt. I grabbed a paper bag and carefully placed the duck inside of it as the mother’s eyes followed my every move.
“I cannot accept this.” She tried to refuse but I was having none of it as I handed the bag to the little girl instead.
“You can.” I said with a reassuring smile, “My mother is looking for a seamstress, perhaps you can help her out sometime?”
I knew the woman was a seamstress whose business wasn’t flourishing anymore, but she was still clinging on to it, trying to do her best as she raised her daughter. Nobody knew who her father was and they had been treated harshly ever since she was born. Tears sprung into the mother’s eyes and she bowed her head deeply, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to do a good job. Bring in your clothes too, if they need fixing.”
“I sure will, thank you.” I bowed back and looked at the little girl, “Do you like pies?”
“I do!” She exclaimed happily and I chuckled.
“Well, then, I’ll see you two sometime next week with a pie and three dresses.” The mother bowed her head again and thanked me as a tear fell down her cheek, then she veered her daughter towards the exit as she blabbered on about how she loved duck meat the most. With a content smile on my lips, I walked back behind my table as I felt eyes on me. The old lady had a thoughtful look on her face as I faced her, and then she looked towards the crowd and sighed loudly.
“Your parents have raised you well, both you and your sister.” The old lady said and I nodded, agreeing with her, “She was kind too, but you are kinder, my dear. You have never expected anything in exchange for your actions, ever since you were little.”
“If we don’t stick together, then who will help us out?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing and my mood souring, “Surely not President Snow and the people from the Capitol, right?”
The old lady gave me a long look as she hummed, eyes looking back onto the crowd as I heard someone yelp. Curious, I turned my head and tried to pinpoint whoever had called out in fright, but the crowd was big and I couldn’t see anyone.
“Be brave and honest, but careful, even the walls have ears, my dear.” The old lady advised as men started shouting, the crowd crying out in fright again as suddenly it started dispersing not far from us, the people hid behind tables and next to vendors as another man exclaimed in pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I perked up, walking around my table as the crowd was clearing and I could almost see what was happening up ahead.
“What is the matter—” My eyes widened when I realized someone had Mingi’s torso pressed against a table, face down, wrists held behind his back as he struggled to break free as he hissed and glared viciously. My eyes widened as suddenly he kicked his leg backwards, and the man holding him folded over in pain as he released the Victor, scrambling back as Mingi whirled around with a wild look in his eyes, hands held out protectively in front of himself. The crowd steeled for a second, my heartbeat quickening as I realized he had the same look in his eyes as earlier today. Then, almost at once, three men jumped forward and tried to restrain him as Mingi pulled a knife from his pocket, sneering at whoever jumped at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I didn’t know what led to this altercation, but something felt wrong. Mingi was inoffensive, he never attacked first and he wouldn’t even hurt a fly even if it bothered him. Someone must’ve done or said something that made him so defensive.
But the men didn’t care as more women screamed, and I gripped the edge of my table as they jumped towards him, trying to take him down. Mingi was alone and despite being strong, he couldn’t defend himself against three men who were stronger and really angry. The way he held his knife was obvious enough that he didn’t intend to harm anyone, it was obvious enough to me that he was scared. My heart leapt into my chest as a man jumped at him from behind, unseen by almost everyone, an arm going around Mingi’s neck as the one to his right slapped the knife out of his tight hold. Then, his knees were kicked out from underneath him and he fell with a terrified cry, trashing around as the men tried to restrain his frantic movements. I took off without realizing my legs were taking me in their direction, heart beating fast as my ears rang, head aching the more Mingi’s cries started sounding less aggressive and more scared, but nobody seemed to hear them or care about them.
I pushed people out of the way, unapologetic and frantic, running around tables and jumping over crates as they were in my way, the only goal in my mind to reach him. Held down like that, his eyes were wide and filled with helplessness, the same look had been reflected in my sister’s when she had been shot in the heart. Mingi was still trashing around but his body was trembling now and it was audible that he was struggling to breathe. My body was lit with deep anger as I realized everyone was feeding off of his fear instead of realizing he was having a panic attack. The last person I pushed aside gave me a look and went to grab at me, but I threw them a menacing glare before I broke free of the crowd finally, panting as the attention was on both Mingi and me now. The men who held him were smirking and mocking him, but a look of confusion crossed their faces when I stood in front of them, frantic and desperate to stop this.
“Stop it!” I snapped, voice a lot more high-pitched than I expected it to be, “Let go of him!”
“He’s like a rabid dog,” One man hissed, “Like hell, are we releasing him. He’ll hurt us—”
“I said,” My voice held danger as I itched to grab my knife and hold it threateningly towards the men, “let him fucking go!”
And if my scream didn’t chill the onlookers, then Mingi’s helpless whimper did as his eyes screwed shut tightly, even his head shaking as he struggled to breathe. I didn’t wait for the men to listen to me as I scrambled towards Mingi, falling to my knees with a loud thud as my knees shook from the impact, but I didn’t care as he was finally released. He flinched and tried to flee, but my cold fingertips traced his forehead as his eyes snapped open, wide and shaking as they bore into mine.
“It’s okay,” My voice was quiet and gentle, assuring, “I’m going to take this off.”
I gently grabbed the scarf that covered his nose and lips, and a strong hand suddenly grabbed at my bicep. The men tried to touch Mingi again, but I threw them a warning look.
“You’ll be able to breathe better, Mingi,” I said with the same softness as the grip on my arm continued to tighten, but Mingi didn’t object as I slowly pulled the scarf off his lower face. He gasped and clung onto me with both hands now, lips trembling as his body shook. He looked smaller than he was, he looked on the verge of passing out. With a shaky breath, I traced his thick eyebrows and brushed his long bangs out of his eyes as I offered him the smallest smile.
“Mingi, what we’ll do next is easy, alright?” He gasped as he was hyperventilating, but his eyes were stuck to my lips, “We’ll breathe together, alright? We inhale big and exhale long, good? You’re safe, Mingi.”
I didn’t know how much my words managed to reach his mind, but I started taking big inhales and long exhales, hoping that he’d soon follow my lead. People gawked at us and murmured, horrified that I was helping the man who mercilessly killed my twin sister. I didn’t care, Mingi was human too and he was suffering. It was right in front of their noses, the fact that he was still struggling and paying the consequences of his actions, but nobody seemed to actually care that he wasn’t just a rich and scary Victor now.
“In,” I inhaled, holding Mingi’s cold face in my hands as his fingers dug into my cardigan, “Out.”
And he was slowly catching on to how to breathe in and out, his chest expanding and then falling back as he emptied his lungs. His body was shaking and he would still whimper or become smaller when someone made a sound too loud, but I was here, and I was determined to help him regain his senses, regain himself. It took him a few good minutes, but his frantic breaths have found a new rhythm, much calmer and quieter than before, inhaling and exhaling at the same time with me. A small smile crossed my face when I realized he was slowly returning to himself, my thumbs gently rubbed the skin under his eyes, trying to bring the smallest form of comfort. His grip relaxed around my biceps and his body leaned towards mine as if it was trying to drink in my warmth, I let him nuzzle his face into my hands as his body finally stopped trembling. The people around us went quiet and I gulped, trying to keep my composure in front of everyone. I was mad, I was angry and I wanted to scream at them for treating him like an animal, for caging him in and making him feel like he was in danger, like he was back in the arena once again, triggering a panic attack and probably unwanted memories that he tried to bury deep down.
“You’re safe, Mingi.” His eyes snapped open and bore into mine, irises expanded and still alarmed as he took breaths through his mouth, hands slipping down from my biceps to my wrists. His grip was painful and I understood that he wanted my hands off his skin, so I pulled them back into my lap, but he didn’t let go of me just yet. His eyes were shaking again, tears sprung into them and he gulped, subtly shaking his head. He had become paler than he was before, and I knew the crowd was too much, the eyes and the whispers, the fingers that were pointed at us and the sneers, the judgemental stares. I gripped his wrists back and stood, looking down at Mingi as I silently asked him to stand as well.
His eyes continued boring into mine, face ashen, but at least he knew he was safe as long as he didn’t let go of me.
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            The petals of the soft pink flower felt dainty underneath my fingertips as I gently traced them, a small smile on my lips as I inhaled their scent before rearranging the bouquet in the vase. I had brought them in from the meadow just yesterday, so they were still fresh and flourishing. The meadow was full of the pinkish coloured Musk Mallows which was my twin sister’s favourite flower. She’d always gush about their softness and beauty, collecting a small bouquet for herself to decorate her grim side of our shared room. I wasn’t fond of the flower at first, its smell irritating my nostrils, but with the passing of years and sneaking to the meadow before sunset, I started loving their familiarity. The meadow was peaceful, quiet, and far away from the Peacekeepers and the grey haze of District 12. It was a reminder of what our Earth must’ve looked like before the nuclear war destroyed it and forced it to become what Panem is today.
The pink flowers reminded me of freedom and of my sister, of a dream that was possible to achieve if you never gave up and fought for it. It reminded me of love and laughter and the look on my sister’s face whenever she cradled it to her chest, of the chastising of our parents for sneaking out once again, but the fondness on their faces when my sister and I would sprint to our rooms giggling and talking about going to the meadow again tomorrow to make flower crowns for our mother and father. It reminded me of tender touches and a quiet love that you didn’t have to talk about or scream it out into the world for everyone to see it or understand it, it reminded me of a toothy smile and small eyes that once used to laugh, of sneaked glances and shy looks passed between classes.
The deep voice of my father's and my mother’s gentler one carried outside of their room, all the way to the kitchen as I changed the flowers’ water, my parents’ murmur gentle and warm. The water was cold against my skin and it made me shiver despite the warm summer breeze that came inside through the open window, and I smiled when I heard footsteps coming into the kitchen. My father was dressed in his overalls, his tools in a handbag and a cap low over his eyes as my mother came following him outside, fussing about the hole in his jacket’s arm. Their love had always been quiet and subtle, it was always about noticing the small things, about doing something quietly for the other one.
“Don’t worry, a small hole won’t make me feel cold down in the mine.” My father’s voice held amusement as he grabbed the jacket out of my mother’s hands. I rearranged the flowers in the vase once I was satisfied with the amount of water inside the glass, and chanced a glance in my parents’ direction.
“But it will seem like your wife is unable to sew it for you,” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed and I chuckled quietly, picking out seven pink flowers from the bouquet.
“And isn’t that true?” Teasing bordered my father’s tone as he gave my mother a cheeky smile, and she looked away with an embarrassed huff, “Don’t worry, nobody will notice it. It’s rather dark down there.”
“Do you remember the small pink and purple boutique at the square?” I perked up, gaining my parents’ attention as if they were oblivious to my presence.
“The lady who has a daughter now?” My mother asked as she fixed my father’s collar, remaining close by his side.
“Yes, hers.” I nodded, then crouched down to place the flowers I picked out of the vase inside my basket, “She owes me a small favour, we should bring our faulty clothes to her.”
“I heard she’s been struggling,” My father trailed off as he looked at me, but not for too long, then grabbed my mother’s hand, “well then, why not? Everyone needs some coins to make due.”
“Right.” My mother nodded with a smile as I grabbed my basket and mentally prepared myself for a good enough excuse, “We should visit her, then, sometime this week—Y/N, where are you going, honey?”
I froze in front of the front door and tried to look as innocent as possible, “I’ll stop by at a house before I head to the Nursery, one of my patients was sick lately.”
“In the middle of summer?” My father asked with confusion, eyes straying from my face when I looked at him sadly.
“Some old people are barely hanging on, dad.” I muttered but shook off the grim thought, “I’ll see you tonight, right?”
“Sure, take care of yourself.” He said gently and I nodded, eyeing my mother as her fingers curled around my father’s arm just a bit tighter. Working in a mine had always been dangerous, it had always taken away lives way too abruptly and painfully.
“See you, then.” I waved at my parents and they smiled, proud but with sadness bordering their eyes as they never looked at me for too long. I understood why. The face which was mine hadn’t always been just mine, it had once been my twin sister’s too, even if slightly different. I didn’t blame them like I didn’t blame Mingi, and I never got angry at them like I never got angry at Mingi. Everyone suffered and coped in their own way with loss, and when things got too difficult to bear anymore, I knew I would find solace in the meadow that reminded me so much of my sister.
The walk to the Victor’s Village wasn’t too long, but it was midday and the streets were littered with people going on about their day. I greeted those who offered me smiles and I stopped to talk with those who needed my advice as a nurse. Young children laughed and screamed in the courtyard as I passed by the school, pleasant memories flooding my mind as a young girl clung to the gates and waved at me with a giggle. It reminded me of when I tried to scale the gate in order to prove that I was strong, only to fall and twist my ankle as I tried not to wail, but instead swallow the pain and smile when my classmates started fussing over me. It had been—an already—tall and lanky figure that pushed everyone aside with worry on his face as he came to kneel next to me, thick eyebrows furrowed as he clumsily grabbed my leg, applying pressure where it hurt most. I cried out, scaring everyone, and they started shouting at the boy, trying to pull him away from me as they accused him of hurting me, but I didn’t want him to go. His touch was warm and gentle, scared but willing to help, and I only stopped throwing a fit when the other children left him alone and made him pick me up and carry me to the Nursery that was close by. His voice was still scratchy back then, but it was soft and friendly, “You’re safe, Y/N.”
Nervous for no reason, I readjusted the collar of my lavender-coloured dress and then knocked against the perfectly white door, the air a bit clearer over here. The Victor’s Village was just by the borders of District 12, meaning that it was closer to the forest and meadow I loved so much. It was always silent here, and it smelled of flowers and baked goods whenever the Song’s front door was open to let the fresh air in. Only two houses were inhibited inside the Village and at night it could seem eery, almost haunted by all the lives lost in the Hunger Games. But my irrational nervousness came to a stop when the front door opened and an elderly smiling face welcomed me on the other side.
“Oh, my dear,” The elder woman, Mrs. Song, had a surprised look on her face, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”
After everything that’s happened at the Hob last night, I wouldn’t have abandoned Mingi, leave him alone to deal with the aftereffects of his panic attack. I stuck to his side and walked him back to the Victor’s Village as no words were exchanged between us, but the fact that he didn’t shuffle too far from my body was the confirmation I needed that he appreciated my presence and persistence. I was a nurse in training, after all, and he was just a person fighting against the demons inside his mind.
“It was due time I brought you a new ointment, Mrs. Song.” I said with a smile as Mingi’s grandmother beckoned me inside, “And I picked fresh flowers yesterday, I figured they would look nice in your kitchen or living room.”
The old lady’s face lit up upon hearing about the flowers, and I had just barely stepped out of my sandals when her hand gripped my wrist and pulled me after herself. Despite the house being managed by an elderly couple and their grandchild, it was in perfect condition and always pristine clear. I have offered to help them out more often, but Mrs. Song had always said that they were doing fine and capable of handling the huge house on their own. I didn’t want to push them or make them feel incapable since they had Mingi back now, thankfully, and they wouldn’t need another pair of hands to help out. While my sister and Mingi were in the Games, I frequently stopped by the Song’s small house to help the elderly couple with anything I could. Sometimes I cooked for them, other times I helped scrub the house clean, and when their legs hurt too much, I would sell their baked goods at the market and bring back the coins for them.
“You’re so sweet,” Mrs. Song mused as she directed me towards the large table in the kitchen, “Take a seat, I made some apple pie just this morning, it’s my Mingi’s favourite. Would you like some too?”
“I wouldn’t want to take it away from him, then, since it’s his favourite—”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Song waved her hand, hurrying to take a plate and fork, “That boy is so tall but so skinny. He barely eats anything lately, my dear, what should I do to bring back his appetite?”
It’s been almost a year since his Games, and sometimes I found myself throwing up after eating, my sister’s lifeless eyes flashing behind my eyes, a constant reminder that she wasn’t here anymore. That she wouldn’t go to the Capitol and that she wouldn’t become a nurse, never to hunt again or lay in the flower field at the meadow.
“Just be gentle and patient with him, Mrs. Song,” I placed the basket on the table and opened it, “I can’t guarantee he’ll ever be fine, but he’s doing better. I can see it in his eyes.”
“He’s still haunted by memories,” Mrs. Song whispered defeated as I grabbed the flowers and the tin can of ointment for her leg, “but he doesn’t wake up from nightmares so often anymore.”
“He’ll get better with time, he’ll eventually stop blaming himself.” I whispered as I headed towards Mrs. Song, who had paused and had her head lowered, “He’s lucky to have you and Mr. Song, and you’re doing everything you can for him. It’s good, I am glad he has people who love him and support him.”
Mrs. Song hummed and turned her head to look at me, taking the items from my hands. She smelled the flowers and grinned, placing the ointment by the sink as she went to fetch a vase for the pinkish flowers, “I had always been able to tell whether it was your sister or you, you know? Remember when you brought my Mingi candies when he helped you with your homework? Your sister never quite liked him, I once watched her kick him in the shin because he refused to carry her to school on his back.”
I blushed and looked away feeling embarrassed as Mrs. Song started laughing quietly, amused by the recall of a longtime memory, “You’ve always been soft-spoken and calm, you always looked at my Mingi with admiration and understanding in your eyes. I know he’s not—he appreciates everything you’ve done for him since—since that day, and he’s trying to mend your once bond.”
“It was her who volunteered to take my spot,” My throat felt a little tight, like something was bothering it from the inside, “she knew what she’d have to face, she chose her fate willingly. Mingi only did what everyone else did before him and will do after him, I just wish he was …more willing to receive kindness and love.”
Mrs. Song hummed and gave me a long look before she walked back to me, grabbing the curtain of the small window as she pulled it to the side. She had a big smile on her lips as she gazed outside, and I followed her line of sight, stunned by what I saw. Mingi was outside in the back garden with his grandfather, crouched down and digging up the soil as a half-empty sack lay next to him. His grandfather was fanning himself and holding a bottle of water as his mouth moved, telling Mingi something that made him smile. It was small at first, barely a twitch of the corner of his plump and red lips, but then it expanded slowly into something wider. Something which pulled at the corner of his sharp eyes and softened them up, the brown in them brighter and warmer as his smile only became bigger, crooked front teeth on display, boxy and warm. It lit up his sharp face and made him look kind and friendly, so easily lovable, so easily approachable. The smile made his eyes so small you almost couldn’t see them as they creased, long and tall nose scrunching up as his chest started shaking. It looked like when he was sobbing, but now he was laughing, loudly and joyously, and it made it harder to look at him than at the blazing sun.
My breath hitched and something dormant stirred in my chest, something that made my heart pump my blood faster and my palms ball up into fists as my eyes widened, lips parting in surprise the longer I watched the joy expand on his whole face, making him throw back his head, his black hair not obscuring his eyes for once. His skin was pale despite its tan complex, making it obvious that he didn’t spend much time outside anymore, but under the warm rays of the sun, it made him glow brightly and breathtakingly. He looked casual in his white shirt, which threatened to fall off his right shoulder, and his dark blue trousers were dirtied by the soil his knees dug into. He looked gorgeous, beautiful and mesmerizing, and I have just realized I never wanted to see him cry or frown or tremble in fear ever again. I wanted Mingi to be happy, to be joyous and grateful that he was still alive. I wanted him to smile and laugh every day, his warm eyes trained on me—on my face—without pain or hesitance lingering in them. I wanted Mingi to see me and not my dead twin sister in the reflection of my features.
I gulped, suddenly aware of the tears in my eyes when Mrs. Song placed her wrinkly hand on top of my fisted one, gently squeezing it. Her eyes bore into the side of my head and I sniffed once, trying to gather myself and blink the tears away. Mrs. Song remained silent, but she hummed and gently helped my hands relax as I uncurled them, pressing them into the cold countertop, “He smiles like that from time to time, when he’s able to let go of everything and just be in the moment. I know you miss my grandson, and I know you miss your sister even more.”
“I was never meant to lose both of them,” I whispered, voice strained as I forced my head to turn, Mingi’s laughter and happiness burned into the forefront of my mind, “The Games were never supposed to take away the sister I loved with my whole being, and they were never supposed to take away the innocence and light in Mingi.”
“Life isn’t always fair, my dear,” Mrs. Song said as she let the curtain fall back in place, “Sometimes unexplainable things happen and if we dwell on them trying to find an explanation, whether ordinary or divine, we threaten to lose ourselves in an impossible quest. You’re stronger than anyone has ever thought you’d be, don’t let the darkness get to you like it gets to most of us. You have no idea how much it means that there’s someone who views Mingi like a human being besides me and his grandfather, I was afraid he’d end up like Haymitch, but he’s still fighting and trying to do his best.”
“Mingi’s stronger than he gives credit to himself,” I said with conviction as I walked towards the sink to fetch the ointment I brought, “He’ll never end up like poor Haymitch. I’ll have to check on him soon.”
“He’s still breathing, if you’re worried about him.” Mrs. Song’s tone was sour as she knocked on the window, “I went over today, brought him some pie too. It was the first time since we moved here that he didn’t slam the door in my face, I suspect apple pie is also his favourite.”
Mrs. Song and I chuckled to ourselves as we heard the front door open and then close loudly, manly voices conversing about whether the new seeds they had planted would grow out fast or not. I opened the tin can and handed it to Mrs. Song so that she could smell it and realize I had infused some cinnamon into it since it’s her favourite scent. Her eyes lit up and she grinned just as the men appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, Mr. Song’s laughter gruff, followed by a scratchy cough. I let my eyes fall on the grandfather and grandson, their eyes and noses very similar, it seemed like the traits had carried over to Mingi too. His grandparents weren’t tall people, but judging by the small fragments of memories of Mingi’s parents, I could remember his father being an intimidatingly tall man. Unfortunately, he died in a mining accident when Mingi and I were barely five years old, and his mother unfortunately died not even two years later due to an incurable sickness.
“Oh, Miss Park, what brings you our way?” Mr. Song asked in surprise as he tried to stand up straighter, dusting off his pants and making soil fall onto the clean floors. Mrs. Song’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t say something as Mr. Song acted like he was innocent.
“I wanted to bring Mrs. Song a new ointment for her leg, hopefully, this will work better.” I tried to act like it didn’t hurt when Mingi’s expression fell once he realized it was me who stood in their kitchen, “Is your chest alright, Mr. Song? Do your lungs still hurt when you cough?”
“Ah, no, don’t worry about me!” He quickly brushed my concerns off, but my eyes were stuck on Mingi as he shuffled on his feet, shoulders hunching as if he was trying to look smaller. He didn’t look my way, sharp eyes pointed to the floor, but his face was void of any expression. I could still see his smile in front of my eyes, I could even imagine what his deep laughter sounded like—probably higher-pitched because it had always been breathy—but it remained as an unfulfilled desire because Mingi would never look at me like that, just with anguish and pain in his eyes, “And are you well? I hope our Mingi didn’t inconvenience you too much last night—”
“Helping him, or anyone for the matter, is never an inconvenience to me, Mr. Song.” I didn’t mean to cut the elder man off, nor to sound too snappy, but I couldn’t help myself. The anger and rage I felt last night for the treatment Mingi was forced to face at the Hob still simmered just underneath my skin, making me sensitive, “It wouldn’t have even happened if people stopped seeing him the way the Capitol has painted him, I—I can’t just stand and watch them torment him, I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re feeling better today, Mingi.”
The Victor flinched when I said his name, gripping his left arm as he started scratching it through the fabric of the loose white shirt he wore, but he nodded his head and briefly looked up at me, a glimpse of gratitude visible on his face, “Thank you for stepping in.”
“Anytime,” I said, and then Mingi was looking anywhere but at me, my presence in his home clearly making him feel uncomfortable. Realizing that despite his grandparents always welcoming me eagerly with open arms, Mingi still didn’t feel comfortable nor keen on seeing me in the one place where he was supposed to be safe from everyone and everything. I understood why, so I didn’t let the thought sour my mood or bring my spirits down, instead, I went and gathered my basket with a smile on my face and glanced at Mrs. Song, “Thank you for the apple pie, but I’m needed at the Nursery, I’ll have it some other time perhaps. Mr. Song, don’t exert yourself too much and if you’re feeling unwell, let me know.”
The men stood aside so that I could leave the kitchen and despite making sure I didn’t walk too close to Mingi, my knuckles still brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt, just barely but it felt soft and warm. My body stiffened, but I didn’t stop despite Mingi’s head turning to look after me, eyebrows furrowed as he looked conflicted.
“Goodbye!” I called before I was out the door, forced to take deep breaths as my heart was hammering against my chest. I had thought I could do this. But the longer he looked at me with disdain, reluctance and pain in his eyes, the more my chest ached and my lungs constricted, trying to call out for the man I was missing, for the boy who always smiled when he saw me and averted his eyes shyly if he looked for too long. But I wasn’t giving up, I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t treat him like the monster the Capitol made him out to be.
            The Hob once was a place filled with laughter and good disposition, a place where people went to dance, listen to music and enjoy their evenings. Now, after the war that destroyed District 13, the Hob became a mere warehouse that was worn down by the passing of time, destroyed by harsh winters and scorching summers. With its missing windows and hollow insides, the people of District 12 made a place out of it that would host illegal night markets, a means of trying to earn more coins in plus despite it being illegal. The Peacemakers knew of it but they never interfered as long as those guarding it got something out of it too. But with the disappearance of what the Hob once used to be, it needed a replacement, a place that would bring people together still, bring some light into their dark every day. The Hut was that place, an old house of a family that have long died since, in a slightly better-off part of District 12. As expected, the Peacekeepers knew of this place too, but they rarely came to bother people as it was close to the mayor’s house, thus leading to fewer displays of aggressive behaviour. But there were exceptions, there always were exceptions.
The people of District 12 couldn’t be considered hostile or unfriendly, but they knew how to hold grudges, and they weren’t afraid to show their hatred toward one another. It’s this reason why they so blatantly mistreated Mingi, swearing and cursing at his face, brave to lay their hands on him without thinking that it could trigger memories from the Games, making him lash out. At the Hob, when he had a lapse of judgment, his panic attack was induced by something that triggered a terrible memory from the games, leading to the altercation. But people seemed to not understand this, ignorant and unwilling to hear me out and realize that they were hurting him more by their attitudes towards him, ostracizing him even more. My friends, who had always known how I felt about Mingi, were just as ignorant at first, blaming him and mocking him, but they’ve gotten better at accepting him and leaving him alone. They weren’t children anymore, I wouldn’t be held accountable for their actions and words, but I could at least try and open their eyes to reality.
The Hut was almost overflowing by the time me and my friends had arrived, rushing inside as the summer breeze bit at our exposed skin. The long-sleeved dress I wore was dark green, like the forest I’d go hunting at, and I had a dainty brown belt around my waist that my sister had gifted me a long time ago. It was made of leather and it must’ve cost a fortune to her, but she smiled widely and clapped her hands when I opened the small gift box, my eyes widening at the expensive clothing item. Now, knowing that she loved it when I wore it, I made sure to wear it as often as I could even if she wasn’t here to see me. It’s the thought that mattered, and I knew she’d be elated if she were here.
We managed to catch an empty table, just about fitting for seven people as we settled in our chairs, voices raised as the live band played their upbeat music, gathering dancing couples close by the scene and cheering everyone on to come and dance. My friends wanted to grab each a pint of beer before we’d mingle with others our age, so I volunteered to walk up to the bar and order us drinks as three Peacekeepers off duty had approached our table, obviously trying to charm the single ladies who sat there. I wasn’t keen on them, they were ruthless in their practices and unforgiving and fake even when they didn’t wear their uniforms. I had no interest in men like them, men who chose to serve the Capitol and earn a paycheck by asserting violence on others.
I pushed my way through the crowd and tried to dodge every drunk person that came my way, but someone had pushed me from behind just as I neared the bar, making me fall forward and crash into someone’s back. The person stiffened instantly and before I could panic, the familiar scent of the person reached my nose. The fabric of his sweater was soft underneath my fingertips, obviously being a gift from someone wealthy as nobody from District 12 could’ve afforded it. It was beige and had an intriguing black pattern knitted into it, making the sweater look even more cozy. I stepped back and up to the bar, cheeks flushed from the heat inside the place but also from stumbling so clumsily into Mingi.
“I’m sorry,” I spoke up as our eyes met, his widening as mine looked away, “someone pushed me and I lost my footing.”
Mingi didn’t answer, but his hand curled around his pint, knuckles turning white as he squeezed it. His eyes remained stuck on me, though, something unusual as I fumbled with my small purse to find enough coins for my order. I threw him a quick glance and he quickly averted his eyes, staring ahead as his eyebrows furrowed. His hair, surprisingly, was brushed out of his eyes and his cheeks were tinged pink, finally not so pale and sickly looking. His plump lips were chapped but Mingi didn’t seem to mind that as he took a small sip of his own beer. I leaned over the bar and motioned towards the one managing it that I needed seven pints. I wouldn’t be able to carry them to my table, but someone would help, I didn’t worry about that. Now that I had to wait, I turned my body to face Mingi’s, and watched as he stiffened when he realized I was looking at him.
“Are you here by yourself?” I asked with a small smile on my lips and he nodded, picking at a thread of his sleeve as they were longer than his hands and covered them. The sweater created the illusion that it swallowed Mingi’s broad and tall form, giving him a cosy look that oozed safety. I fought against the pull to step closer, to touch his sweater to feel its texture, to compliment him about the way he had styled his hair, finally not obscuring his beautiful eyes. Mingi remained silent, eyes pointed forward as the men standing by the bar gave him irritated looks, as if his mere existence was an inconvenience to them. I sighed and leaned back just a bit, throwing them a warning glare until they turned away, looking uncomfortable.
“Would you like to join me?” I tried with an innocent offer, my smile slightly widening, “I’m here with my—”
“No.” But Mingi’s answer was quick and almost frantic as his eyes widened a bit, his head turning just a little to look at me. He looked almost appalled by my offer and I felt bad for making him feel uncomfortable, but lately, I felt like I didn’t know what to say to him, what was appropriate and what was triggering.
“Right, sorry,” I muttered an apology as the host appeared with my pints of beer, a younger boy trudging after him with a grimace. He looked like he didn’t want to be here, and by the baby fat on his cheeks, he probably wasn’t even supposed to be here.
“Here, help the lady!” The host announced loudly and grabbed the coins I pushed towards him, pushing the younger boy around the bar. Mingi’s eyes fell on the boy, who seemed to pay Mingi no mind other than a quick glance, and I offered him a smile as I grabbed four pints.
“I’ll be here, Mingi.” I ignored it when he flinched, instead smiling wider, “In case you change your mind or need me.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t let my surprise show as he thanked me, quietly and almost hesitantly, but our eyes met and he nodded his head, eyes unsure as they remained stuck to my face. I lingered for a second, wishing to say more, to look at him more, but the young boy was already walking off with the other pints and I couldn’t stay by the bar forever. I nodded my head and swiftly walked off, not without looking back and realizing Mingi’s eyes were following me. It made my chest constrict, a lump in my throat rise as I forced a smile onto my face once I reached my friends’ table, which was filled with laughter and joy.
It felt nice breaking away from the monotonous days, from the grey mood everyone in District 12 seemed to have, it felt nice to spend an evening laughing and enjoying myself. Music seemed to always uplift my mood, and I loved watching people dance, eyes stuck to the way they twirled and moved, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking like they were concentrating too much. I loved to watch the gentleness they held each other with, the spark in their eyes and the ease with which they knew how to follow one's lead. The evening had turned into the late hours of the night, my stomach ached from laughing, but my feet still felt fine as I hadn’t danced just yet. Nobody had approached me and I didn’t want to dance with just anyone, so I also didn’t try to find a dance partner. Despite laughing and conversing with my friends, my eyes often strayed towards the bar, unable to focus on the conversation as I gazed at Mingi, wondering what was going through his mind. He didn’t move from the bar but he did find a seat on a stool, and he didn’t drink more than two pints of beer, but he did eat a pie that looked to be with apples. Nobody approached him and he didn’t approach anyone, he remained alone and stuck to himself as he often would look towards the dancing crowd, picking at the skin around his nails.
Mingi had once used to love to dance, whenever we came here, he wouldn’t sit down for even a second. We never came together, our friend groups were different, but we always somehow stumbled into each other. He had once tried to ask my sister to dance with him, but she gave him a disgusted look and stomped on his feet before storming off towards the boy she was head over heels. Taking pity on Mingi, whose lips were downturned and his head hung low, I told him I really wanted to dance but nobody wanted to dance with me. The joy was back on his face as he took my hand and led me towards the dancing people, blabbering on about his favourite songs and how he had tried playing the guitar before but failed. After that, Mingi always seemed to save me a dance before we’d head home. Perhaps there was one person, after all, that I expected to ask me to dance tonight, and it was Mingi.
I was sat at the table with just two of my friends as they drunkenly tried to ask about how my nursing school was working out, but I barely paid them any mind as I saw two men creeping towards Mingi. They seemed to be drunk too, but they had vicious smirks on their lips and narrowed eyes as they spoke between each other, pointing at Mingi’s back. My jaw clenched when one grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, startling Mingi who almost managed to fall off the stool. The other leaned in uncomfortably close, spatting words in his face as Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, face falling slowly as fear coated his eyes. Sitting up abruptly and alerting my two friends, I paid them no mind as my legs carried me over to the bar, storming up to Mingi and the two idiots without paying mind to anything else.
“Excuse me.” My voice was loud and harsh as I snapped, jaw clenching when only Mingi seemed to realize I was there too, “Get your hands off him, now.”
And then I grabbed the man’s wrist who still held onto Mingi tightly, making sure to dig my nails into his skin as he yelped, turning around with fury on his face. I didn’t release him, not yet, as his face got red and his chest puffed up, prompting Mingi to slide off his stool, standing tall as he watched the exchange.
“You failed to hear me the first time,” I said, then pushed the man back by his hand before I released it, “surely a woman’s grip didn’t hurt you?”
The man scoffed as his hands balled up into fists, and suddenly Mingi was moving, making me gasp when I felt my back pressing into the bar, body shielded by his much taller and bigger one as he stood in front of me, gripping the other man’s forearm with a sneer on his face, “Don’t touch her.”
Mingi’s voice was low and threatening and it only took seconds for the man to start trembling as he tried to yank his arm free, looking towards his companion with a helpless look. But the man didn’t seem like he wanted to help as he watched Mingi with an open mouth.
“Mingi.” I whispered, scared that this would turn into a really bad scene, something I couldn’t help him get out of like at the Hob, “Would you like to dance with me?”
Mingi froze, dropping the man’s forearm as he turned around, eyebrows furrowed and body too close to mine. I looked up at him, finding myself breathing harder when I felt faint fingertips brushing against my knuckles, making my heart somersault.
“Yes.” And before my mind could register that Mingi had accepted to dance with me, a large hand on my waist was gently veering me around the crowd, leading me towards the dancing one, where the band’s music was louder and everyone was smiling and enjoying themselves. My heart raced in my chest as Mingi led us into the middle of the crowd, coming around me as his eyebrows were furrowed, hands hesitant to touch me anywhere despite having led me here by a hand on my waist. I gulped and raised one hand, deciding to make the first step and offering him a gentle invitation.
I didn’t think he’d actually take me up for a dance, I only said that to de-escalate the situation and to have an excuse for us to walk away from it. But Mingi seemed to take it seriously, his warm and large hand hesitantly slipping into mine. His hand was calloused from wielding a bow and arrow and from working in the back garden too, but his touch remained gentle and mindful. He didn’t wait for me to hold onto his shoulder as he pressed his other hand flatly against my lower back, guiding my body closer to his, but leaving a small gap. I gulped as I looked up, eyebrows furrowed as I fought against the tears that wanted to fill my eyes.
It felt like the world had stopped moving around us, as if the Games never existed, as if the old Mingi was back and my sister was watching us from the sidelines with a displeased look on her face. The tension eased from Mingi’s body and he looked at me with less guilt in his eyes as we made eye contact, but he still swallowed hard, lips parting as his voice was gruff and raspy, “Why are you so kind to me?”
“Because you deserve kindness,” I answered without hesitance, gripping his shoulder and clinging onto him too tightly, having little care about the fact that perhaps this was too much for Mingi, that maybe he didn’t want us standing so close, touching each other in familiar ways. But he remained silent as his body further relaxed, shoulders lowering as I felt his fingers jab into my lower back, with a tug on my belt he closed the gap between our bodies.
I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, what was supposed to be a dance position felt an awful lot like an attempt at a hug, and I couldn’t breathe as I drowned in Mingi’s closeness, warmth and safety, letting my forehead press against his collarbone as a tear rolled down my cheek.
I hadn’t cried since my sister’s death.
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            The days went by quickly here, people were used to their routines and they followed them diligently. Nothing ever interesting or intriguing happened, life was mostly grim and grey. Our District wasn’t well off and there were days when even the wealthiest had to sit back and consider whether throwing out money for luxuries was truly necessary or not. The Hob was filled with more and more people trying to earn a little more in plus, desperate as hungry children hid behind their mothers and hollow-cheeked men tried to be louder so that they’d attract attention upon their stalls. It was a hard-to-swallow picture at times, but it was what I grew up seeing my whole life. I still took pity on everyone, never getting quite used to seeing all the suffering these people had to endure, frequently reminded that I was one of them too, struggling at times to get by. Training to become a nurse had made me realize that I felt fulfilled helping others and that it made me find a purpose other than trying to survive day by day. It gave me hope that if I was capable of helping and healing others, instead of harming them and taking their lives away, then others were capable of taking me as an example to become better and more helpful towards their peers. District 12 had always been forgotten and misjudged by the public—hence why it came as a shock to the Capitol that Mingi was strong and perfectly capable of handling a weapon and defending himself—if our people didn’t stick together, then who would vouch for us?
Helping others, even in the smallest ways like bringing them water or even a slice of bread shouldn’t have been considered something impossible, offering a helping hand to an elderly couple shouldn’t have surprised others when they found out about it. That is why helping the Song family had never seemed like a nuisance to me. Before the Games, it didn’t feel wrong to anyone, but after Mingi returned as a Victor it wasn’t just him who was shunned, his grandparents were too, treated poorly by those who once had happily visited their small patisserie, looking out for the elderly pair who have raised a small child into a fine young man. It was disheartening to watch how the people treated the family, only to realize my own family viewed them the same way. My parents stopped asking about their well-being, about whether Mingi would’ve liked having dinner with us, whether I would go hunt with Mingi and bring back flowers for my sister, they acted as if he never existed. I understood their reasoning, but I couldn’t accept it. They couldn’t blame him for something that was out of his control, for something he was forced to do. That is why I never cared what others thought of me, what they said about me behind my back, whether they judged me or not for keeping in touch with the Song family. Only I could change my mind about them, nothing anyone else said about them could influence me in any way.
That is why I continued to stick around, that is why I visited them weekly to make sure the elderly couple was healthy and Mingi wasn’t cooped up in his room all the time. Today, just shy of a week since Mingi and I had danced at The Hut, I stopped by to see whether Mrs. Song needed help with house maintenance. I memorised the days she liked to clean the house, opening all windows and dusting off all shelves, moping the floors clean and baking something delicious for her husband and grandchild. The blueberry muffins were in the oven, their aroma making my stomach churn as Mrs. Song was perched on a chair, rearranging a shelf of books as she carefully cradled their spines, smiling whenever she opened a book, flipping through pages that were yellow already. I was sat on the windowsill as I cleaned the hinges of the window with a green rag, humming to myself as the birds outside chirped loudly, making me smile. Mr. Song had ventured inside the District, looking for trinkets as he was building a small jewellery box and needed something to decorate it with. If Mingi wasn’t home during the day, he most certainly was out hunting, so I didn’t have to ask Mrs. Song about his whereabouts.
“The Capitol people are coming next week and they’ll be here for a few days,” Mrs. Song spoke up as I felt her eyes on me, “you shouldn’t come over, for your own safety. They are curious people and they always ask questions, they always pester Mingi whether he has someone or not. There’s—bad people in the Capitol who tried to buy him but Haymitch didn’t let them, it’s a dangerous world. Mingi wouldn’t want you involved either.”
I gulped, gut coiling upon hearing people tried to buy him as if he wasn’t a living person with a will and control over his own choices, it didn’t sit well with me, “Is something the matter?”
“No, the Reaping is getting closer and President Snow wants to showcase last year’s Victor.” Mrs. Song sighed and carefully got off the chair, sitting on it instead, “Update the public about what he’s been up to lately and how he’s doing, it’s all for show, really. But Mingi hates it, he’s been more—silent and avoidant, he doesn’t leave his room so often anymore. I know he’s scared, he’s dreading the Reaping. He will probably have to go as a Mentor this year and he doesn’t want to. The nightmares are back too, I don’t know how to be there for him anymore. I don’t know what to do to reassure him anymore.”
A feeling of sadness permeated my whole being as I closed the window, shiny and as good as new as I faced Mrs. Song, “He knows you’re trying your best, and he’s trying his best too. Just let him be and offer him a shoulder to lean on when he comes to you, I think he’s gotten better at coping. I can make a tea for him, to sleep better and have less nightmares, if you want me to.”
“I’ll ask him about it.” Mrs. Song smiled and stood, bringing the chair back to its spot in the kitchen. I drew the curtains together and grabbed the rag to bring it to the bathroom and wash it clean, but as I stepped into the hallway, the front door opened and Mingi stepped through the threshold. His black hair was dishevelled and his attire was completely green, his jacket undone and t-shirt underneath muddy as he kicked his dirty shoes off by the door. He hadn’t noticed me yet as he held a wild duck in his hand, an arrow still lodged in its heart.
“’Ma, I’m—” When he looked up his body tensed, eyes stopping on me. I stood up a bit straighter and offered him a small welcoming smile.
“Hello.” I greeted, holding the rag with both hands in front of me. It’s been a week since we danced together and he hadn’t been as tense around me as before, he spoke a bit more, but he still kept his distance. He didn’t look at me for too long, but his eyes looked less haunted whenever he did, “How was your hunt?”
Mingi swallowed then his eyes looked down at his hands, the dead duck wasn’t dripping blood on the clean floor at least, “Short, but I caught something at least.”
“That’s good,” I smiled a bit wider, “your grandma will make a delicious stew out of it, I’m sure.”
Mingi hummed as his eyes were stuck on the arrow that went through the duck’s heart as if he was unable to look away. His thick brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, but he abruptly raised his head, eyes hard and body alarmed as I tried to stand as unthreateningly as I could. I didn’t want to trigger any memory if able, so I looked to the side as Mingi’s eyes continued boring into the side of my face, “Would you—would you like to—if my grandma makes stew, would you—the duck I caught, I—I’m sorry.”
Silence stretched between us as I sighed, not annoyed and neither tired, just feeling defeated when I chanced a glance at Mingi. He looked disappointed as he chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders hunched forward again as his bangs fell into his eyes, “Would you like me to come over for lunch if your grandma makes stew, Mingi?”
He stiffened, flinching slightly, but he wordlessly nodded slowly, looking at me through his eyelashes. I chuckled and nodded, feeling like we had just taken an immense step towards finding common ground again, towards reestablishing what we once had, “Alright, I’ll come over if you still want me to.”
“I will.” Mingi said hurriedly, I had barely finished talking, “I won’t change my mind.”
I felt my chest slowly warm up as my smile slightly faltered, forcefully ignoring the need to walk over and hug him, inhale his earthy scent and thank him for trying to mend our lost relationship. I nodded, eyes boring into his as Mingi nodded back, shifting on his feet as if he didn’t know what to say more or what to do next. But to his luck, Mrs. Song had just walked out of the kitchen, eyes widening in delight when she noticed her grandson, “Mingi! You’re back! Go wash up, you can take care of the duck afterwards.”
Mingi nodded and walked further inside the house, making sure to avoid touching me when he passed by me as I pressed myself up against the wall. I watched him press a quick kiss against his grandmother’s cheek and then disappear inside the kitchen before he raced up the stairs without looking back. Mrs. Song chuckled before she looked at me with a knowing look in her eyes, then pointed towards the bathroom, “Were you headed in there?”
“Yes, do you need anything?” I asked as I approached her, trying to stop my eyes from gazing up at the stairs as Mingi’s loud footsteps thudded against the floorboards as he entered his room, closing the door loudly.
“I will hang up the laundry, can you bring Mingi’s clothes up to him after you’ve washed the rag?” Mrs. Song had a sweet smile on her lips as I nodded, setting into motion as I headed inside the bathroom, “My knees are old, my dear, they don’t function as well as yours or my grandson’s…”
I heard Mrs. Song mutter to herself as I chuckled quietly, nearing the sink as I looked up, met with my reflection in the mirror up on the wall. I turned on the faucet without looking down, my eyes a dark colour but under the sunlight a blazing amber—if I believed what everyone has always told me—and my short hair was braided behind my ears as that’s how far I could actually braid the strands. The two ponytails that sat at my nape were small and sometimes managed to tickle me, but I didn’t mind them, the hairstyle was practical and looked cute. I didn’t like my hair getting in my eyes when I was working with my patients, and today had been a rather packed day at the Nursery before I could leave to help Mrs. Song out.
The water was warm against my skin as I rinsed the rag out, carefully hanging it on the side of the bathtub, eyes looking around the bathroom in search of Mingi’s freshly folded clothes. They were placed on top of a low stool behind the door and I went and grabbed them, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the shirt that was at the bottom of the pile. They smelled fresh, devoid of the earthy scent Mingi usually carried with himself, a tinge of citrus could be smelt in the fabric as I brought it up to my nose, taking a deep inhale. Realizing that what I was doing was probably inappropriate, I stopped myself and rolled my shoulders back, trying to stop the blush from spreading widely onto my cheeks.
Mrs. Song was outside in the back garden as I headed for the stairs, the double doors opened and the curtains fluttered as the wind blew inside, Mrs. Song’s pleasant singing voice carried by the wind made me smile. I carefully walked up the stairs, which were made of marble like the rest of the ground floor’s flooring, and was met with pictures hung on the wall of the Song family. There were some older ones, black and white, and some newer ones where Mingi was small and smiling widely as his parents held his hands, his mother’s smile a perfect replica of Mingi’s. Mingi was the perfect mixture of his parents’ traits, but he seemed to take slightly more after his father, who had the same small and sharp eyes as his son, his nose long and tall. I was familiar with the pictures, I’ve seen them numerous times in the Song’s old house, but it brought comfort seeing them once again. The Victor houses were devoid of colours and any life, they exuberated coldness and stripped the home of any cosiness. It felt nice to see Mrs. Song trying to bring it more life with the pictures, her favourite paintings that were family heirlooms and carpets that she and Mr. Song had inherited over the years, with flowers littered around every part of the house.
I knocked on Mingi’s door, his bedroom was the last in the hallway and faced towards the forest, unsurprisingly, but there was no answer. Trying again, not intending to intrude on his privacy, I knocked some more but there was still no answer. I grabbed the doorknob and whispered his name as I poked my head inside just a little, only to realise he wasn’t in the room. Eyes widening, I pushed the door further open and froze, taken aback by what I was seeing. I had never stepped foot inside Mingi’s bedroom ever since he moved inside this house, but upon one glance, it was a replica of his old bedroom. Even the way his things were positioned was the same, his furniture the same, the only difference being the white walls while in his old bedroom, they were grey and the paint was chapped, falling off in some places. It smelled like musk and something citrusy inside, perhaps oranges, as I let the door close behind me, a single lamp lit on his desk despite it being daytime. His blackout curtains were drawn together, but based on the volume of the birds chirping, I could tell the windows were open. Walking further inside, I noticed a small notebook opened on top of his desk, a pencil on the floor and the beginning of a sketch that looked an awful lot like the meadow.
There was a thud behind me and as I turned around, I just realized there was a door inside the room, closed but light flooded out from underneath it. Deciding to place the clothes on Mingi’s bed, I took off towards it just as the door opened and warm steam wafted outside of it. Freezing, I opened my mouth to quickly explain myself but was caught off guard by what I saw. Mingi, still oblivious to my presence fumbled with the light switch as he stepped outside of the joint bathroom, hair dripping wet and torso bare as a black towel hung low on his hips. His cheeks were flushed and the water from his hair dropped to his wide shoulders, quickly trailing down his broad chest, between his pecks until they disappeared into the towel. The beginning of a happy trail started just where the towel concealed his lower body and I gasped, turning my head away when I felt my whole face on fire.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were showering!” My voice was high-pitched, flustered and sounded embarrassed too, “Your grandmother asked me to bring up your clothes and I—I knocked, I really did but you didn’t answer and I—I’m sorry. I really am, I’ll go, I just—”
My heart was beating so fast and loud, I was sure Mingi could hear it too in the silence that followed my frantic explanation, hands slightly shaking as I placed the pile of clothes on his bed, clumsily knocking some over. Letting out a frustrated huff, I fumbled around as I grabbed them, folding them again as I tried to ignore Mingi’s frozen form in the room, dark eyes trained on my body, watching me wordlessly.
“You can leave them, I have to put them away either way.” Mingi’s voice was deep, tone light despite our predicament. I gulped and stopped, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves before I stood up straight, letting go of the short-sleeved white shirt I was about to fold.
“I’m sorry.” I apologized again, keeping my eyes glued to the floorboards, “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” It was unlike Mingi to cut me off, especially with so much understanding in his voice. He hadn’t talked to me like that since the Games, he hadn’t kept his eyes so insistently on me ever since the Games. My cheeks were still burning, not because I caught Mingi half-naked, but instead because he wasn’t looking away, he was trying to catch my gaze as he lowered his eyes, “Thank you.”
My muscles became tense, eyebrows slightly furrowing as I licked my lips, not quite understanding what he was saying thank you for so earnestly. I hadn’t done anything of great importance, I just merely brought his clothes up for him because his grandmother was old and probably struggled scaling the stairs so many times a day. Willing myself to look up, to tell him that he didn’t have to thank me for something so simple, the words got stuck in my throat as we made eye contact. His face looked relaxed, wet strands falling onto his forehead in a way that didn’t obscure his vision and he wasn’t hyperventilating and neither looking uncomfortable. I gulped, opening my mouth to say something, but my eyes slipped and landed on his left arm where a big red gash stood out strikingly against his tan complex. My eyebrows furrowed as I continued looking at it, and when Mingi realized, he hid his arm behind his back.
“When did you get that?” I asked, concern lacing my voice.
“Yesterday.” Mingi’s answer was short, voice once again void of any emotion.
“Did you treat it?”
“Washed it with warm water.”
“That’s not good enough,” I muttered, eyebrows furrowing in worry as I looked back up at him, “you need to disinfect it and put ointment on it, you should also probably wrap it up with gauze too.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve survived worse.” I knew he didn’t mean to sound so aggressive as he said that because he flinched, his right hand balling up into a fist as he averted his eyes, turning his head to the side.
“I know,” I whispered, but I wasn’t about to let him walk around with a fresh cut, “but you need to treat that. I’ll be right back.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to—” But I was out the door before he could finish his sentence, hurrying down the long hallway and then skipping down the stairs as Mrs. Song remained outside, now sitting in a chair as she watched the bees that flew onto the flowers in her garden, a content smile on her lips. I rushed towards the downstairs bathroom and opened the cabinet above the bathtub, grabbing the distilled water, saline solution, a soothing ointment I learned how to make from my sister, and some gauze. As I left the bathroom and raced back up the stairs, I heard the front door opening, meaning that Mr. Song had also returned home. In my rush to get back to Mingi and treat his fresh wound, I forgot to knock to warn him that I was heading in, but thankfully he was fully dressed and sitting on his bed, left leg bent while the right one hung off the side of the bed. He looked up alarmed as I heaved a sigh, closing the door behind me and placing everything on the bed in front of Mingi as I neared him.
“May I wash my hands in your bathroom?” Mingi didn’t hesitate to nod and I quickly went inside and washed my hands thoroughly with soap, letting them dry on their own as I walked back inside his room, pulling the bathroom door closed with my foot. Mingi watched me, neck craned as I stopped next to him staring down at the bed as I debated whether I should ask him to turn around or sit opposite him. Deciding that he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to bother him, I got on the bed across from him, sitting on my knees as I lowered myself on my legs, looking down at the solutions I brought, “May I see the wound?”
Mingi froze for a second, but he didn’t stall for long as he extended his arm, shuffling closer when he realized we sat too far from each other. He gulped, loudly, but I ignored it as I grabbed his arm and pulled it towards my lap, eyebrows furrowing as I inspected it. The skin wasn’t red around it, thankfully, but the wound seemed rather irritated. I looked at him for a brief second, surprised to find Mingi looking at me intensely, “May I touch you?”
“Yes.” His voice was low and raspy as he answered, and he tensed when I hummed, looking back down at the wound. I sighed and gently traced the skin around the wound, making sure there were no bumps or smaller cuts before I grabbed some gauze and poured distilled water on it. Mingi helped me uncap the bottle and then held it for me as I placed his arm back in my lap, gently tapping the gauze on the wound, knowing that it probably wouldn’t hurt him. He remained silent and I didn’t speak up despite wanting to ask questions about how he got this wound, I just handed him back the lid and he lidded the bottle before putting it aside.
“This might sting a bit,” I warned him as I grabbed the saline solution and opened the bottle, pausing to look at him, “did the soap sting?”
“Yeah, yesterday,” Mingi mumbled and looked away, lowering his head as his shoulders were hunched forward. His hair was damp, but at least water wasn’t dripping everywhere from it anymore. He wore fluffy trousers and a white t-shirt which was a bit tight and clung to his body, enunciating his scrawny but broad form. I hummed and tapped his wrist to warn him that I would pour the saline solution on the open wound now, which thankfully didn’t need stitches as it wasn’t deep enough. The muscles of Mingi’s arm tensed when the solution reached his wound, but he made no sounds. I made sure to pour only as much as was needed to disinfect the wound and glanced up at him, finding his jaw clenched and nose scrunched up as he stared down at his lap. Closing the saline solution bottle, I grabbed a clean gauze and folded it so that I could tap it against his skin. We remained silent as I worked slowly and carefully, not wanting to cause more discomfort. I felt Mingi’s eyes on me when I placed the bottles aside and grabbed the small can, my hand falling next to his as I paused.
“This won’t sting, it’ll help ease any discomfort and soothe the burn.” I informed him and then opened the can, taking a copious amount of ointment on my fingers before I started rubbing it into the wound, not pressing it too much as I knew it would hurt, “You should use this three times a day until it fades into a scar, and if you go hunting, you should wrap it up with gauze for some extra protection. If anything gets into it, it might get infected. I should check up on it in two weeks, but if it starts bothering you in any way, let me know as fast as possible, okay?”
I looked at Mingi with raised eyebrows and he nodded wordlessly as I sighed, glad that I could help. I closed the small can and placed it next to his knee so that he’d put it away somewhere where it was close by, and prepared to grab the dirty gauze and bottles, when long and thick fingers curled around my right wrist, halting my movements. I froze, staring ahead at Mingi’s chest as it was rising and falling rhythmically. His head was still lowered, eyes obscured as his big hand felt cold against my skin, the hold gentle and not bruising.
“Thank you.” I smiled and nodded with a hum, letting my eyes rest on his face, which he was trying to hide.
“Of course, Mingi.” But maybe I said something wrong because his head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, lips pursed as he looked confused and even annoyed.
“Why are you so nice to me, Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as his fingers uncurled from my wrist, dropping down between us, accidentally brushing against my knee.
“Because you deserve kindness,” I wanted Mingi to understand that he wasn’t different than anyone else, that he was a person who deserved to be treated well and with love and tenderness, “Because you’re a human being with feelings and thoughts and struggles just like everyone else. You don’t deserve to be treated badly for what you were forced to do, everyone would’ve done the same if they were in your place, Mingi. You’re gentle and compassionate, you’re easily spooked and you’re clumsy despite being tall and strong, you listen to others and you help them. You’re kind and you’re a good person despite what others might think and say now about you. You’ve always picked me up when I fell, you never laughed when I didn’t know something, you waited for me when nobody else did, and you never seemed to forget about me when everyone else did.”
My breath hitched in my throat when Mingi’s hand raised, warm and hesitant as it cupped my right cheek, his fingers burning my skin as I continued speaking, “I’m not scared of you Mingi, you’ll always be the shy little boy to me who carried me on his back when my feet started hurting and pulled on my hair when I threatened to fall asleep in classes. Nothing will change that, not even you pushing me away.”
I watched as Mingi’s eyes got teary, his bottom lip shaking as his hand fell from my cheek, making me miss his warmth as I almost grabbed onto his hand to press it back against my skin, yearning for his touch. But he only hunched more into himself, shoulders shaking, and I knew he wanted to be alone, with nobody to see him as he became vulnerable and emotional. Gathering the things I brought with myself beside the ointment, I left the room, leaving him alone to mule over the words I had said to me.
I could only hope he would start believing them
            And maybe my words did get through to him because the next time the two of us were out in the forest to hunt, we ran into each other and instead of him running away like always, he stopped walking and waited for me to reach him. He was just about to jump over the fence when he glanced over his shoulder and spotted my approaching form. I smiled widely at him and waved as I hurried my steps, holding onto the bow that was around my shoulders, ten arrows sitting in the holster by my hip. Mingi’s bow was around his shoulders too, but his holster was next to it instead of it being on his hip, and he wore his green jacket and black-coloured pants. It was a sunny day today, so I didn’t wear my usual hunting gear, just a light blouse that had to be laced up at the chest and trousers that once belonged to my sister.
“Hello, Y/N.” I froze when I heard him greet me, usually not being the first one to acknowledge my existence. My smile became wider as I had to look up at him, shielding my eyes with a hand as the sun shone down on us brightly.
“Mingi, hi!” My tone was laced with enthusiasm, and despite Mingi not smiling, I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t in a displeased mood, “Did you just arrive?”
“Yes, I planned to hunt for a few hours today, it’s too warm to sit by the house.” It was a long sentence, a longer answer, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. I tried to tell my racing heart to calm down, to savour the moment while it lasted. In his eyes, which were lighter under the bright sunlight, I recognized the spark which was always present in the Mingi before he left for the Games.
“I agree, it’s even worse further into the District,” I nodded and grabbed the fence, “Would you…like to hunt with me?”
It was a bold offer, I knew it could sour Mingi’s mood rather quickly, but I could only hope he wouldn’t turn me down. I missed hunting with someone, I missed the dynamic that came when you had someone next to you, how much more silent you needed to be, more careful and more vigilant. I used to hunt with my sister almost daily, we’d sneak out when our parents were busy and would only return by nightfall. Once, we ventured further into the forest, far from the meadow, and discovered that there was a small but beautiful lake an hour away. We rarely went out there, out of fear of the Capitol watching over it, but I cherished the memories we shared there with my sister.
“Yes, we could hunt together.” Mingi’s answer was unexpected, and my eyes widened as I looked up at him, trying to read his expression but it didn’t say much. He nodded more to himself before he gripped the fence and pulled himself up halfway, jumping over it and landing with precision, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Knowing that I’d never be able to jump over it, I crouched and pulled on the fence just underneath the sign that warned us of high voltage, creating a gap where I could go through. Mingi watched with surprise as I came up next to him, pushing the fence back so that it wouldn’t be visible that there was a passageway.
“Was that always there?” Mingi asked amazed, still looking at the fence as I readjusted my blouse.
“Yes,” I said with a chuckle, taking off towards the trees, “I’m too short to jump over the fence, did you think I did the same as you to get out?”
“Yes?” Mingi asked as he averted his eyes, cheeks dusted pink as he made me chuckle. I bumped my shoulder into his as we walked further inside the forest, covered by the shade of trees which brought me instant relief as sweat had broken out on my forehead and temples. I patted them off with the sleeve of my blouse and grabbed onto my belt as we walked around bushes and stepped over fallen logs, hiding behind a boulder as we spotted a deer. Our breaths were synchronised as Mingi and I peeked out above the boulder, watching the pretty deer as it remained oblivious to our presence. Mingi’s fingers tightened around his bow as he exhaled, and I turned my head to watch him curiously. We had to remain silent in order not to alert our prey, but I couldn't help myself.
“Will you claim it?” I whispered, the sound quiet as Mingi took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head turning. Our faces were close as he exhaled, the warm air brushing against my cheeks, but he shook his head.
“I don’t hunt deer anymore, they are too beautiful,” Mingi answered, voice less cautious as the deer’s head snapped up and looked around, aware that it wasn’t alone anymore. I didn’t say anything for a second, just savoured our closeness and Mingi’s musky scent combined with the earth around us, as our eyes bore into each other. I hummed and faced the deer at last, watching as it continued eating once it decided that it wasn’t in danger.
“Should we head further in, then?” I raised an eyebrow, a friendly smile settling on my lips, “Find the wild ducks?”
Mingi and I made brief eye contact as he nodded, and then we both straightened up and stepped around the boulder, alerting the deer and making it run off in fright. My eyes followed it, remembering the one time my sister ruthlessly hunted down one of them, telling me that an animal was a source of food no matter how pretty as I started crying while I watched it die. I didn’t join my sister for a week after that incident, and I felt warmness spread through my chest that now I knew Mingi didn’t like hunting them either. Wild ducks were a little bit easier to hunt, at the beginning I wasn’t keen on capturing them, but famish was horrible and it made us do things we didn’t want to.
I followed after Mingi in silence as he jumped over rocks and logs, navigating his way around the forest as if it was his second home—which it might’ve been at this point—watching closely the way he moved, the way he carried himself. His shoulders were pulled back and his back was straight, he moved with elegance and confidence as he pushed the branches of a tree to the side, waiting for me and holding it for me as well. His muscles weren’t too tense and he seemed to be at ease as a small smile played at his lips, probably subconsciously, as his sharp eyes surveyed the place every other minute, looking for the wild ducks but also to spot any other possible prey. A red fox jumped in front of us and made me gasp as I didn’t expect it, and once Mingi’s initial shock was gone and he lowered the protective arm he’d put in front of me, he grinned at the fox and stomped his foot once, making it run off. I curled my palms into fists when our knuckles brushed together as we walked side by side, trying to fight the urge to hold onto his hand and intertwine our fingers. I missed holding his big hands, feeling their callousness and the few silver rings he wore dig into my skin.
Mingi slowed his steps when he spotted the wild ducks and I made sure to remain quiet as I watched mine too. He motioned behind a tree and we lowered ourselves behind it, peeking out at the ducks from both sides of the trunk. Mingi faced me with a questioning expression and I nodded once as I moved slowly and silently, taking my bow and an arrow as I hooked it, getting in a better position to pull it back. Mingi watched me closely as my muscles tensed and my arm pulled even further back, lips brushing against the arrow as Mingi hummed once, throwing a pebble to make the ducks fly off. I sprung up and locked onto my prey, letting go of the arrow at once as we watched it shoot straight at a wild duck, hitting it and making it fall onto the forest ground. My heart was beating fast, making my body warm as my blood flowed faster, cheeks tinged red as I smiled widely, pulling another arrow to shoot another duck that wasn’t spooked and remained behind. I hit that one too, and wondered when Mingi would shoot his own shot, but when my head turned to look at him, he was frozen and his eyes were wide. His knuckles were white as he had grabbed onto the tree tightly, breathing faster than before.
Realizing that something wasn’t right, I lowered my bow and scootched closer to him, “Mingi?”
My voice was quiet and cautious as Mingi mumbled to himself, seemingly stuck somewhere inside his mind as his body shivered, “No.”
I realized he was having a flashback when he gasped loudly and stood up straight abruptly, shaking his head more feverishly, “No! Stop, no!”
I let my bow fall to the ground as I stepped closer, trying to stabilize my breaths, “Mingi, focus on me. Listen to my voice—”
“No, she’s dead!” He screamed, voice raw and raspy as he faced me frantically, his body shaking, “I—the arrow—I killed her, she’s—she’s bleeding, I—”
“Mingi!” My tone was higher as I grabbed his wrist tightly and stared up into his eyes, “Snap out of it, it’s not real. We’re in the forest—”
“No, I killed her. She’s dead, you—you are dead, I—” Mingi gasped loudly and tried to yank his wrist free, but I grabbed onto his arms and yanked him closer to myself, forcing him to remain by my side.
“I’m not her.” My voice was harsh, eyebrows furrowed, “It’s me, Y/N, we’re back in District 12, in the forest, hunting. It was a wild duck, Mingi.”
It took him a few seconds to realize I was saying the truth, that the face which was talking to him wasn’t that of my dead twin sister’s, but of the girl he left behind when he left for the Games, the girl who he abandoned when he returned, “Mingi.”
“Why?” His voice was shaky and he suddenly stepped closer, all up in my personal space. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, “Why are you doing this? Why are you still here? Why do you talk to me? Why don’t you hate me? Why don’t you—just kill me?!”
His tone rose with each desperate question, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes filled with tears, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “What do you want from me? Just let me—hate me, Y/N, shun me away, scream at me and slap me, I—I don’t deserve any kindness. I don’t deserve you anymore, I’m a monster. I’m a criminal, I murdered her, I shot the arrow straight through her heart. I have no future, I’m a nobody, I don’t deserve to be alive, why are you still with me?!”
“Mingi!” I screamed, making him flinch as I shook his hands off my arms and cupped his cheeks instead, pulling his head down to be eye level with me, “Look me in the eyes, Mingi.”
But he didn’t, he looked at the ground and shook his head, sniffing loudly as my jaw clenched, “Look me in the eyes, I said, Song Mingi.”
I had never spoken to him harshly, I had never demanded anything of him before, and upon hearing my tone and words, his eyes snapped up, wide and shaking, “Look at me. My eyes are dark, just like yours, hers were light like the sky during the day. My hair is short and wavy, hers was long and straight, always in a perfect bun while mine is almost impossible to tame. I’m tall, she was shorter and always complained about it. My voice is higher-pitched and warmer, more comforting, hers was raspy and always demanding, always ordering something. We smell different, she loved flowers and smelled like them, and I hate flowers and would rather cover myself in mud than smell like it. My body is covered in moles and hers barely had three, all on her face meanwhile mine has none. I like to read about nature and birdwatch as well as stargaze and braid hair, she hated reading and she only watched the night sky because she knew I loved it, she never braided her hair because the strands were too thin and would constantly fall out. I want to heal and help people because I love our humanity and I’m conscious that we are here one day and the next maybe not, she wanted to heal people because it made her feel like she had control over life, because she never got to control her own life, Mingi.
“She was mean to you and she didn’t like you, she pushed you around and made fun of you whenever she could. I never did, I always wanted to be by your side, I wanted to talk to you and listen to your stories, I wanted to shield you from her harsh words. You wanted to dance with her, but she always refused, so I took her place hoping it’d make you happy since I looked like her, I hoped you’d be able to imagine it was her and not me. I help your grandparents because I want to and because I care about them, not because our parents sent us over to your house to help you out, I didn’t do it because I knew our mother would buy us new dresses. I don’t want to see you in pain and agony over having killed my twin sister, Mingi, I have never hated you for it, and I have never resented you for what you had done, so please, stop seeing her in me and look at me. See me, Mingi, please.”
Mingi was crying by the time I was done talking, his body shaking as he forced his eyes shut, his tears wetting my hands as I rubbed the skin under his eyes as his arms no longer lay limply by his side but circled my waist and pulled me into him, embracing me in a tight hug as I let him burry his head in my neck, heart-wrenching sobs leaving his mouth as I ran my fingers through his smooth hair, allowing him to let out all the grief and pain he’s felt and tried to push down.
“I forgive you, Mingi,” I said it because I knew it was what he needed to hear and not because he had anything to be forgiven for, “for everything.”
He nodded his head frantically as he continued crying, fingers digging into my blouse desperately as his loud sobs echoed around us, a few Mockingjays picking up on it and carrying it further inside the forest. I hugged him closer to my body when his muscles started easing up and I massaged his scalp when his sobs started vanning, hiccups and sniffing following it, tight embrace turning into comfortable body warmth that screamed out for companionship.
And I knew he’d get better, he was strong, and he was no pawn of the Capitol.
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2 months later
            The sun had lost some of its warmth now that autumn was approaching and I didn’t feel ready to let go of the lush green scenery, of the forest that brought such huge refuge and safety. The meadow was full of blooming colours, of flowers that made me sneeze, of bees that were loud and made Mingi jump every time they flew past him. I had my eyes closed as I played with the petal of a Musk Mallow, the person lying next to me fidgeting every few seconds as he was afraid of bugs. I had a smile on my face as he finally sighed and gave up, sitting up as he pulled his knees into his chest. The Reaping was tomorrow, the Peacekeepers were getting the square ready, and the train bringing the Capitol people would arrive tomorrow. Effie Trinket would act like picking a boy and girl for the Games was normal and Haymitch would be probably black-out drunk while Mingi would stand on the podium shaking and looking sickly pale.
“I’m scared.” As if hearing my thoughts, he whispered, “I’m not ready to return, I don’t want to go back, Y/N.”
“They will never make you go back into the Games.” I tried to remind him.
“I know, I just can’t watch a child I know attempt to train for something that will lead to their dismay.” Mingi’s voice was defeated as I blinked my eyes open, raising my hand to shield them from the sun.
“Perhaps District 12 will have another Victor, Mingi, have more faith in them.” I tried to sound encouraging, but I knew it was of no use. Mingi and my sister got reaped when they were eighteen, what was supposed to be their last year participating in the Reaping. The odds were rarely in our favour.
“I can’t be a mentor, it’s too soon.” Mingi pressed his forehead against his knees, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. I sighed and followed him, sitting up as I pulled something out of my pocket.
“You’ll be fine, you won’t be alone and you’ll be a good mentor, Mingi.” I said with an encouraging smile as he turned his head to look at me, “They won’t hurt you at the Capitol, they can’t. Remember, you are your own master and you can’t let President Snow get inside your head. You did well when they came to take the interview all those months ago, you’ll be able to ace this too. I believe in you, Mingi.”
He bit his bottom lip, eyes searching my face before they settled on my own, our gazes boring together as I looked down at my hands, playing with the single pearl on the bracelet. Taking a deep breath, I looked back up at Mingi and smiled at him softly, extending my hand with the bracelet towards him, “For you, as a token of good luck and trust, because I trust you and I—I’ll be here, home, waiting for you to return to me, Mingi.”
Gaze softening as he straightened up, he took the bracelet from me, his warm fingers grazing my palm as they curled around the bracelet, a small happy smile spreading onto his lips. He looked at it for another long moment, inspecting the pearl just like I had done after I brought it home, and then he looked up again, turning his head to face me. His voice was barely a whisper, “I’ll miss you, Y/N, so much.”
I smiled and released a quiet breath as Mingi leaned closer, supporting himself with a hand as my eyes fluttered closed, his plump lips hovering just for a second before they pressed against mine firmly. They were warm and not as chapped as they usually were since I had made him an ointment to use, and they were soft and tasted of the chamomile tea his grandmother made us drink before we headed for the meadow. I kissed back with passion, hoping it would convey all the unspoken things, all the words I wasn’t able to say yet, but would say when the timing was right. His kisses were always careful and gentle, like him, hesitant until his brain registered that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, only becoming firm and demanding when he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. I smiled as we pulled back, our lips making a funny sound when Mingi chased after mine and pressed a loud quick kiss against them again, making himself blush and giggle as he turned his head, gazing out towards the trees and shade.
“I’ll take care of your grandparents in your absence,” I promised as I offered him my hand, heart leaping in my chest when his longer and thicker fingers slipped between mine, intertwining with confidence and conviction.
“Thank you, they’ll probably ask you to sleep over sometimes.” Mingi said, his thumb rubbing my knuckle as I squeezed his hand, “They don’t like the quiet when it’s just the two of them.”
“I’ll make sure to spend the night from time to time,” I promised again with a smile on my lips as Mingi and I glanced at each other, settling into a comfortable silence as I helped him wear the bracelet before we scooted closer to each other, hands still intertwined and gazing forward at the serene nature, the deer that played around oblivious to our presence, the leaves that were moved by the wind.
There were days when things were harder to cope with, when Mingi couldn’t get out of bed and when he didn’t want to see anyone, but there were days when Mingi couldn’t stop laughing, when he cradled me against his chest and told me he loved me, when he promised to marry me if our world miraculously changed for the better. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to remain by his side, that we’d both be faced with challenges and hardships, judged by our people and by the Capitol, but we didn’t care. Something that we both loved and cherished had been ripped from us by tyrants, my sister and his innocence, we’d stop bowing down to the pressure to live a life that we didn’t want.
And, sometime in the near future, we both knew that dire days were coming before a bright and free future,
“And the Tributes from District 12 of the 74th Hunger Games are…Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!” ~ Suzanne Collins
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 20 days ago
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𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙉: Virginity Loss w/ Bestfriend!Wanda Maximoff
a/n: okay no but why did i have so much difficulty writing this?? it kind of makes me mad if i think about it. anywho, uh... two girls in love... kind of bimbo!reader but they're both whipped for each other!!
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
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“Do you think you could lose your virginity as a girl to another girl?” 
You ask randomly one day amongst the mess of textbooks and assortment of highlighters on your bed. 
Wanda looks up at you from her own book, a strand of fiery red hair that had slipped out of her ponytail hung in her face. Her face is a mix of bewilderment but also contemplation, like she’s seriously considering what you were saying.
“I mean… I would think so? Virginity is like a social construct, you know?” You nod pursing your lips. “You’re right.” Then, you go back to your work. She blinks, once, twice. “Why do you ask?” She pushes. 
“I dunno,” You say with a shrug. “I was just thinking that I would much rather lose my virginity to a girl than a guy. Like… I would have sex with a guy, yeah, but not for the first time.” 
“Is there a girl that you were thinking about losing your virginity to?” She can’t deny the uncomfortable twist that arises in her gut at the thought of you with someone else. “No, not really. If anything I’d lose it to you.”
She chokes, “To me?”
“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” You add with a shrug, “I trust you, and I like you.” You say it like it’s the most simplest thing on this planet. “You like me?” She asks incredulously, her veins pulsating with anticipation. Hope.
“How could you not know?” It’s your turn to be incredulous. “I’m like… the most transparent person on this planet. I always go out of my way to do shit with you, and sometimes you make me so flustered that I don’t really know what to do with myself. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“I… I like you too.”
“Really?” The smile you give her is blinding. “Really.” You lean forward over the mass of school supplies to kiss her, a band balanced on the bed next to her criss-crossed knee, the other cradling her cheek.
She flushes as your lips touch and both of her delicate fingers also cradle your face, anchoring you to her. 
It’s nothing but closed mouth kisses, but she starts to feel like she’s burning under her clothes, and so her tongue swipes at your bottom lip asking for entrance, and you enthusiastically give in to her, your tongues wrestling for a moment before you allow her inevitable dominance.
Both of your lungs are burning, but no one seems to want to let go, and you unconsciously start to push her back, swiping at things that are in your way so you can settle yourself over her.
You only separate when you begin to feel light-headed.
Your chests are heaving, and you squeeze your eyes shut, because your pussy is positively throbbing.
“If I told you I wanted to lose my virginity to you right now, would you take it?” You ask breathlessly. Her gaze is dark, boring into yours as if she’s staring into your soul. “Are you sure?”
“Please.” It’s a mix between a whine and a whimper. 
She pushes at your chest, coaxing you off her and onto your back, and you go willingly, staring up at her through wide, excitable eyes. Something inside Wanda softens, and she tugs at the hem of your camisole, and you readily take it off.
She gulps.
Oh.
You aren’t wearing a bra.
She can’t help but cradle your breasts, massaging them and running her thumbs over the hardened nubs of your nipples. You inhale a shaky breath, a shiver shooting up your spine.
“Can I take your pants off?” She asks, lips swollen. “Yeah.”
Wanda rids you of your shorts and underwear all in one go, and you’re laid bare beneath her. Heat crawls up the back of your neck and you sheepishly tug at the bottom of her night shirt, “You too.” You mumble.
She laughs gently, but nonetheless indulges in your request, throwing her plain white shirt to the side and quickly unhooking her bra. You can’t help but stare at her flushed torso, even more so when her breasts are exposed to your hungry gaze.
“Shorts too?” You ask shyly. She rids herself of the offending item quickly, leaving both of you nude.
“Wow…” You can’t help but murmur as you take her in. You drink her in like a woman parched, like you can’t believe you’re finally able to have her like this — and honestly? You still kind of can’t.
She giggles. “What do you wanna do?” You just shrug. “I dunno… I – I’ve never done this before.” She hums in acknowledgement. 
Wanda crawls over your bare body, knees positioned on either side of your full hips, her pussy so close to yours that you can feel the heat of her, and you tremble a little. Your hands settle on her waist.
“How about I eat you out. Finger you a little and see where we go from there?” Your head swims at her crude words but you nod regardless. “Yes… yes, please.” Your words teeter off on a whine and she leans down to place one last bruising kiss to your lips before trailing them down your neck.
They travel over the skin there, her body moving down, down, down, as she goes. Every wet kiss lights your body ablaze, and your legs fall open easily when she coaxes them to a bend, pushing them as wide as they could.
She stares at your wet pussy, taking you in before settling on her stomach, pushing a few strands of stray red hair behind her ear. She looks up at you one more time before licking a stripe from your hole to your clit.
You jolt, a surprised gasp slipping through your lips. One of your fingers settle in your mouth and you suckle on it, the other burying themselves in her locks.
She takes this as an initiative to keep going, drawing your clit into her mouth fully so that you can feel the pressure of her suction. Your lower-half jumps but she just pushes you down, restraining you to the bed.
“Mmf – Wanda…” You breathe around your digit, and she hums. The vibrations of her voice send you skyrocketing, eyes rolling into the back of your head. 
Wanda suckles for a moment before a delicate finger prods at your entrance gently before slipping in. Your walls clamp around her, but you force yourself to relax. She gives you a moment to adjust, dragging it out in a lazy rhythm until you settle.
She crooks it, dragging it over your g-spot easily, and a loud, embarrassing moan slips past your lips. “More,” You beg, “More please.”
She easily concedes, a second finger joining the first. She’s going faster now that she knows you’re susceptible to her touches. Her veins are alight with nerves, and her wrist aches, but she won’t stop until she drags you over the edge.
She detaches herself from your cunt to say, “You taste so good, sweetheart.” You whimper, cupping the back of her head to guide her back to you. She chuckles, but obliges, muttering, “Needy thing.”
You’ll be embarrassed about that later.
You feel a coil in your gut, the base of your spine burning, the need of release clouding all the rational parts of your brain.
“‘M close, Wanda.” You cry out, your eyes screwing shut. 
She goes impossibly harder, and when a third finger joins the mess, you see white, riding her face with abandon. She lets you, licking alongside her digits that are doused in your arousal, her nose knocking into your sensitive nub with every flick.
She draws away when you whimper, resettling over you to get a good look at your face.
“Honey, you okay?” She asks softly, leaning down to kiss you despite her cheeks and chin being soaked. You taste yourself on her tongue, but you don’t hate it. “Very.” You say with a dopey smile, and she giggles.
“Again?” You murmur cheekily. 
Wanda laughs loudly, a smile on her face so big that exposes her glorious, white teeth.
“Give me a minute, then yes, we can go again.”
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cheapshrimpysheep · 5 months ago
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Meaningful Kiss 2
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SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses? 💋
CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Romantic Relationship; Kissing; Flirting
WARNING: Spoilers from Ace Suitor Suit Card Vignettes
WORD COUNT: An average of 330 words per character.
COMMENTS: The first Meaningful Kiss with the Overblot Students went so well and so many people liked it that I thought about doing another one with the next most popular group, the Freshmen. And according to a poll more than 80% of the votes were for "OMG! YES PLEASE!" So here it is.
I hope you all enjoy 😘
Meaningful Kiss 3 (Ruggie, Jade, Kalim, Silver, Lilia)
Meaningful Kiss 4 (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook)
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CONTEXT: For some of them I needed to think first about what the beginning of the relationship would be like. But this would already be how they would act in an established relationship.
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Ace is kinda into PDA, but more to tease you and mess with you. He is very comfortable with you. He has no problem putting his arm around your shoulders or waist with a playful smile. Often to try to convince you not to be the voice of reason and join him in trouble.
In public he may hug you a lot, but the only kisses he gives you are on the forehead or cheek. Because on the lips, those are the special ones! And those are reserved for your private moments.
You two are usually alone in Ramshackle Dorm, mainly in the Lounge. You would have many movie sessions where you would make popcorn and snacks together. And it is in these moments, where there is a high chance of you messing with each other, like throwing flour at each other or smearing each other's noses with chocolate, that his most meaningful kisses can happen. In a fun atmosphere.
His most meaningful kisses are playful and grateful. He hugs you like he never wants to lose you. His kisses are passionate, not in a sense of desire, but in a sense of gratitude. You know those moments when something happens that makes a person remember why they love someone else? These are those moments and those kisses. These kisses mean "thank you for being in my life".
However, there are also certain other times when kisses like this can happen. Imagine him getting into trouble and you ending up in trouble too. But of course, instead of handing Ace over, you protect him, help him hide or even hide with him. It is in these moments that you can also receive a passionate kiss from him. “Thank you for being my partner in crime” kisses.
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Deuce is very new to these things, so he's not a fan of PDA. But even when he's gotten used to your relationship, he doesn't see PDA as something necessary. You love each other and you only need to prove that to each other.
BUT if you really like it when he hugs you or gives you a kiss on the cheek, he might do it for you. On the lips, those are the special ones and he is very embarrassed to give them to you in public because he needs to be comfortable to kiss you properly.
At first, he will still get flustered easily and probably blush a lot. It's all very new to him. So, even holding your hand will take a little while for him to get used to it. But once enough time has passed, he won't have any problems even linking his arm with you. And also given enough time, he will start to be that boyfriend who gives you a kiss on the cheek every time he greets you and every time he says goodbye.
For his most meaningful kisses there will be special places. Places where he will take you on his Blastcycle (Magical Wheel). If he takes you on a date. These kisses can also happen in sporadic moments where he feels so happy to have you that he forgets everything else.
His kisses are passionate, urgent, like it's something he needs to give you. You know when he gets so angry that his ex-delinquent self shows up? Now think about that intensity and lack of control, but with love and affection. He is more sentimental than rational, so I believe he is the type of person who is not ashamed to tell the people closest to him how important they are. And he won't think twice to decide whether to show you how much he loves you or not in a romantic moment.
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Jack tries not to do PDA, or at least he tried more in the beginning. It's all still very new to him and he knows that you are his partner for life, so there is plenty of time to get used to the relationship.
Wolf beastmen only have one special someone, ever. They choose a single partner to care for. He chose you, the same way you chose him and now he is committed to you for life. And both he and you expect this to be a long time, so there's no need to rush anything.
He's not much into PDA, but eventually he'll feel more comfortable holding hands with you or letting you link your arm through his. At first, any kiss was still awkward in public, but after a while he ended up having no problem giving you a quick kiss on the cheek if you asked, or if he was very happy. And only some time after this phase, he will feel more comfortable giving you a quick kiss on the lips, usually to say goodbye.
Why are all his kisses in public quick? Because the slow ones are the private ones. Despite his tough wolf exterior, with you, especially in private, he can be a puppy. Rare are the times when he isn’t wagging his tail when he's with you. Or smiling, even if it's just a little. He likes to cuddle! The best moments alone with you are when you can rest in each other's arms. You can pet him. Please do.
He gives you sweet, light and lingering kisses on your cheeks and lips, but the most meaningful ones are a mix of gentleness and excitement. Do you know when dogs are so happy that they get excited? Think of that excitement, but gentler, more caring, more careful. He wants to show you how much he loves you, but he is also aware of his strength and that you are a human, less strong than a beastman/woman.
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Being faithful to the character and his complexes, I don't believe Epel would have a relationship with someone more masculine than himself. So I believe his significant other would be more feminine than him or a girl.
If you're not a girl, it might take longer for him to get to this stage. But if you are, at first he may see you as a bit of a trophy, just a little. You will find him more cocky than usual and he won't have any problems with PDA, quite the opposite, he wants to show everyone your relationship. He'll put his arm around you a lot, whether it's around your shoulders or your waist. He'll try to get over the fact that you're taller than him if you are, but if you're shorter, he might feel like the protective boyfriend he so wants to be.
It will be a rocky start. And you will have to have a talk with him about the sudden change in attitude towards you. He will apologize a lot and reveal that yes, he is proud of himself for being in a relationship with you, because he is proud to be someone you can trust and fall in love with. The last thing he wants is to be disrespectful to you. This is still new for him, so can you help him be better?
After this beginning of learning, you will discover that yes, he genuinely likes PDA. He is a prideful person. Proud of himself for the person he is becoming with you and proud of you for... everything. And he wants to show everyone how much you deserve his affection.
He can hold your hand, hug you, and give you kisses on the cheek, but kisses on the lips are special, and less confident, at least at first. He has no experience and he doesn't want to ruin the moment. But once he gets used to it, you'll find that his kisses are just as sweet, cute and delicate as the appearance he's learning to embrace.
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Good Luck! Sebek is... intense, but slow. Especially because he follows Lilia's “advices” too much. According to Lilia, once he falls in love with someone, he must pen them a letter. With a fountain pen since that and stationery are the true weapons in matters of love. He shall pen his feelings, slip a photo of his smiling visage into every third missive, and repeat this until the twenty-fifth full moon.
Of course you won't be able to bear this for long and you'll have to have a talk with him and Lilia. He’ll ask Lilia what to do from now on, and seeing that things are real now, he'll probably just reply: "Whatever you feel you should do. Trust your heart, but never overlapping yours with (Y/N)’s. That's it! Good luck."
Just like he does with Malleus, Sebek's way of showing that he likes someone is by admiring and protecting them. So, at first it will be just that, he will be close to you and you will receive many words of affirmation.
However, even after he becomes more comfortable with you, you will find that he is indifferent to PDA. At least PDA initiated by him. But if you say you want to hold hands, a hug, a kiss, whatever it is, your wishes are orders! Literally!
In that case, he will never have any problem doing any of the things you ask. Do you want to walk hand in hand? He will extend his hand like a gentleman asking his date to dance. Do you want a hug? He'll open his arms and let you in, maybe even give you a kiss on the forehead if you're feeling down.
Do you want a kiss? What kind of kiss? On the forehead? Granted! On the cheek? For sure! On the lips? Then you have to be careful. Remember that he never hides how much he likes and admires someone. He doesn't exactly have one kiss more special than the other. he will give you any kind of kiss you wish. Like I said, your wishes are orders and you will feel it in his kisses. His most meaningful kisses are all, because they are all to make you happy.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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enmie · 4 months ago
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*♡∞:。.。 Just a Nap 。.。:∞♡*
➶ bllk's Sae, Kaiser, Rin, and Shidou and their goofy selves try to make you prove your love
➶ they fake sleep and you carry them back to bed
➶ poll results. cw: cussing. insults. implied fem reader
𓅪 first bllk fic lesgoo
𓅪 this took three polls. THREE.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Sae Itoshi's
Each tick of the clock, each breath from your lips, each blink of your eye— you watched Sae's sleeping presence. He looked so peaceful you didn't dare disturb him, no matter how much of a trouble maker you were to him. There was something so off and comforting about his shallow breaths, in comparison to his usual stoic attitude, the one that pushes you away. But you stay anyway.
And he thinks he's such a little trickster.
Sae's eyelids flutter to to take a peek at what you were doing, his breathing shallow and soft to make the act convincing. Of course he's fake sleeping. He would never fall asleep in front of you.
He flinches. No, he doesn't jump, but he internally flinches when you attempt to stand him up from the couch, his one arm flung over your shoulder. It was one hell of a movie night, but every movie you watched was plain trash.
He could've spent the night practicing, yeah, but who was he to turn you down? All that's in his head now is fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to wake up—
— but everything's too good. He needs to know what happens next.
You struggled to lift him up. What was he, double your weight? You were tiny compared to this man, what the hell were you thinking trying to get him up? With a groan, you stand up, your weak knees trembling as you lift one side of his body, the other side hanging. But you notice he was on his feet. Maybe it was a reflex.
"Alrighty, let's get ya to bed," You say more to yourself than to him, each step excrutiatingly slow. Slow and shaky, your breath more ragged than his. Why were you even putting in this much effort?Effort wasted. Because you throw him onto the bed, hands on your knees as you panted. You thought he was a light sleeper, initially.
Vulnerability wasn't something he usually showed, yet here he was now, spread eagle on his twin-sized bed, hair in his face and his arm red from your tight hold. You did have a harder time.
And that's why you hated, hated him for opening his left eye, and he had his lips in a smug little smirk, that shitty bastard. You grumbled, throwing a pillow at him.
"What's wrong? You're surprisingly strong, y'know," He remarks, sitting up to fix his hair. Sae ran his fingers through the magenta strands, his eyes looking tired but accomplished.
"Lose some weight so I can carry you next time." You muttered angrily, sulky as you sat on the edge of his bed. "There's a next time?" He slips himself down the bed to sit next to you, gauging your reaction. And that goddamn smirk is still on his face, to the point where it seems his eyes are smirking, his ears are smirking, his cheeks, too. So annoying.
"Hopefully..."
"Not,"
"Yes,"
"No,"
"..."
"Fine." He eventually sighs. "I'll come over again, pendejo."
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Michael Kaiser's
It was the first time you ever saw him asleep. Of course you wouldn't know this grown ass man still takes naps in the afternoon. The sun was up and blazing, glazing its color on Kaiser's undershirt, his muscles bare and exposed. You've never seen him like this, vulnerable, not teasing you, not absolutely annoying you. It was comforting in a way.
But Kaiser thinks he's such a clever man. He stifles a laugh, sensing how you're admiring his sleeping form, his fake sleeping form. He's supposed to be practicing with some people today, but he chooses to mess with you over anything else. It's just how he shows his love.
So it surprises him, really, when you start to stand up and grab his waist and back, supporting his body as much as you could. Were you really going to take him to his room? He lets out an audible groan, but keeps his eyes closed for convincing effect.
With every step you take, he drags his feet across the wooden floor, your grunts loud and strained. Why does he have to be so heavy?
You immediately let go of Kaiser once he was in his room, collapsing the supposedly sleeping body on the mattress.
Then this jerk starts laughing. Boisterously. Disturbingly. Honestly, you feel so shocked that you could only blink slowly and process everything that's happening, the man you thought was sleeping was laughing so hard it pisses you off.
"Jerk!" You exclaim. "Oh, you're such a comedian! You really do love me!" He says, sitting up to see that reaction he found so cute. "I was helping you, fucking bastard,"
"That's me," He says confidently, flexing his bicep. And it annoys you.
"Now, if you excuse me, I got to practice," He stands up, getting dizzy at the sudden adjustment. But before he even leaves, he wobbles to the drawer unexpectedly, pulling out a face towel with cute rubber ducks on it. "Here, saviour. For your sweat."
"I really can't tell if you're trying to be nice or pissing me off," You groan, wiping your forehead and your sweaty neck.
He looks at you with some sort of... admiration, in his eyes. And he laughs again, softer and more genuine this time. "I think you should come watch me practice." You roll your eyes. "After I tore all my muscles carrying you? You wish, asshole,"
Kaiser's never felt this way. Why was he finding your anger so cute? He puts on his jersey for practice, his long hair getting snugly stuck underneath the neckline. So you go and untuck it, getting dangerously close to this man.
Yeah. He thinks he's in love.
"You're so damn small, it must have been a miracle when you carried me here," He whispers. Kaiser doesn't whisper. He yells. A lot.
"Miracle, me?"
"... Yeah, you."
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Rin Itoshi's
One turn of a head, and he's fast asleep? That was so unlikely of him, you think. Because, you're talking about Rin Itoshi here, asleep, beside you, so close you could feel the faint pitter patter of his heart and the even fainter breath. So deep into that slumber you felt bad even thinking of waking the striker up.And he doesn't usually mess with people.
But he wants to see that reaction that he finds ever-so-slightly, cute. When you scrunch up your nose in frustion, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids low. He loves it. It's one of the only things he finds himself looking for in every living moment he spends. But he doesn't quite know why, why he adores your long hair and every curve of your body he longs to touch.
He's cute, too. But Rin doesn't know that. Only you do. Or, at least, you're convinced you're his biggest fan, his best-est friend, or even something along the lines of.
That's why— he's currently trying to peek at you, while also trying to keep pretending he's asleep. Oh! He shuts his eyes tightly, once you turn to look at him. No, no, if he gets caught without saying it himself, it'll be embarrassing. So maybe... maybe he should just come clean already, and—
Panic, panic, panic.
You can hear his breath hitch softly and his eyelashes flutter faintly. Maybe he just does that. You take him by the arm, throwing it around your neck and over your shoulder to take him to his room, to let the pretty boy fall asleep. And oh, how you struggled.
But Rin thinks he's struggling more, trying desperately to stop himself from getting too flustered at the proximity he didn't expect. He makes himself lighter so you didn't have a harder time. He'd usually weigh himself down purposefully, or not fake sleep at all, but he found himself acting different around you.
Not too different. Only... less indifferent. You were more tolerable than the rest.
So once he plops down onto the bed, free from your helping grip, he feels this longing. This yearning. Your touch was too much for him, and now he wants more and more and more. You begin walking away, deciding to let him sleep, but—
"Sorry." Your head snaps in his direction. You'd almost gotten whiplash.
"Huh?! What happened to your sleeping ass?" Still half-lidded, Rin fiddles with the hem of his sweater, avoiding all form of eye contact with you. He just tricked you. And he was guilty. So unlike him. "I wasn't asleep."
You cross your arms with a smirk on your face, oh you knew well. That look on his cute face says it all, that he enjoyed how you were nice enough to accompany his heavy weight up the stairs and into his bedroom.
"You act better than I thought," You tell him. He just hums in agreement, coming back to his original attitude.
"Little trickster."
And when he looks up at you— oh, you think you're about to fold.
"I know."
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Ryusei Shidou's
He's snoring loudly, smiliarly to an old man. Damn this boy. Was he serious or was he serious? You think it's very Ryusei Shidou of Ryusei to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, because not even ten minutes into the topic of leopards, he's passed out, his head facing the side. No wonder the idiot's snoring.
But it's all an act.
Ryusei is wide awake. He may have underestimated how hard closing his eyes for more than a milisecond was, but he is more than determined to see if you'd kiss him with a true love's kiss. Like a fucking Disney princess.
You groaned, standing up with your hands on your hips. You theorize that he's fake sleeping, since there's a goddamned smirk on his face, but you believe it anyway. "Holy shit, you fell asleep, you asshole." With a sigh, you decide to snap a photo of him before deciding to be a nicer bitch for once.
He accidentally opens his eyes and groans when you start lifting him up, but closes them tightly as to keep the act up. Where were you taking him? Upstairs? Ryusei hears your grunts as you desperately try to grab him. He falls back on you anyway, his back pressing against your chest and tensing up. Not like you felt it.
"Alrighty, here we go," This man is eighty percent muscle mass, and you were attempting to carry him?
Get this, he was so comfortable despite your struggle, that he actually falls asleep. For what seems like a mere split second, his breath shallows and his snores get quieter, and his muscles relax on you. You're confused.
The floorboards creak with every step you took, dragging the blonde by his waist weakly. Maybe if he didn't go to the gym so much. With a grunt, you throw him on the bed feeling strained as hell. "Fuck you, honestly."
Walking to the edge of the bed, you pull out your phone to see the picture, and there's this laughter. His laughter. You sigh as you shake your head, knowing your first thought was right after all. He wasn't really sleeping.
"What? Had a hard time?" Ryusei teases, the volume of his laughter baffling you. "Shut up."
"No, no, I'll sleep, I'll sleep," He makes a snoring sound again, but not before laughing his ass off. You're extremely annoyed. You regret being nice. But, you have to admit it, his laugh did bring a smile to your face, in some weird way.
He sits up to peek at your phone not-so-sneakily, chorting. "Ya even took my pic!"
You squeak, and find Ryusei immediately at your side, looking at his fakely asleep self on your phone. His hand is on your waist instinctively, as he stares with that smile, that grin you used to hate. But you love it now.
"You're so obsessed with me," He says. "You gonna make it a wallpaper like a lovesick simp?"
Turning your head and smirking, he blushes. Yeah, he might just be into every other girl, but you're the only one who made him blush that much.
"Maybe so,"
"... Fuck you."
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ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ bllk fanfic
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yandere-romanticaa · 6 months ago
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she walks in beauty.
🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.
yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.
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Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.
However, Diluc was no longer a young child.
Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.
His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.
Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.
And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.
His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.
As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.
He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-
Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.
Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.
"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-
Do not keep me as a prisoner!"
He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.
But that was not how things were going to play out.
Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.
He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.
But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.
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🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.
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koolades-world · 2 years ago
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Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You���ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
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emiliehornby · 9 months ago
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when you get me alone (it’s so simple)
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pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader
synopsis while luke is known for making people’s heads turn at camp, you finally give them a reason to stare after learning how much everyone seems to want him
warnings implied sexual content, descriptions of a make out session
author’s notes happy valentine’s day everyone!! the voices in my head were louder than usual, so i figured we could all use a sweet treat today!! mwah!! i hope y’all enjoy these headcanons
On a particularly slow day, the Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, and Hermes kids decide to spend their free time around the lake. In a glimpse, Luke can be seen laughing with Chris. A radiant smile is plastered upon his lips while he takes in the sight of you. In the distance, Annabeth sits with Grover on a towel, letting her toes wiggle into the warm earth. She watches the water intently, making sure none of her siblings are in any imminent danger when the giggles from Apollo kids, Sadie and Caroline, drown out her thoughts.
“Gods, what I’d give to be in his arms right now.” Annabeth’s ears can’t help but pick up on the conversation taking place beside her. “It’s no surprise he’s taken. But you’d think as a Hermes kid, he’d go for someone more like…us.” Sadie sighs.
Grover leans in closer to Annabeth, his interest piquing when she rolls her eyes. He fears that the daughter of Athena is going to give them a piece of her mind when she stands, but Annabeth merely picks up the frisbee that lands near her feet. She throws it back to where it came from and sits back down to hear Caroline encouraging Sadie, “Come on, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll get your chance. The Aphrodite charm has to wear off eventually. I mean, it always does.”
This time, Grover can’t stop her from turning to them. “Look, you don’t know how things seem to work around here, so I’m going to explain something to you.”
“What Annabeth means to say is that-” The satyr attempts to soothe the situation, but she cuts him off amidst her stubbornness.
“Now, I know not all the Aphrodite kids are palatable, but Y/N is easily the sweetest one I’ve ever known. And there’s a real reason as to why Luke is so in love with her. But I guess you’ll never find that reason for yourselves if you continue to act like this at camp.” This effectively humbles Sadie and Caroline, who mumble to each other while they make their exit.
As if on cue, you walk up to Grover and Annabeth. You’re laughing with a Hermes kid that soon leaves to join the game of frisbee, but it dies down when you notice Annabeth’s hardened stare. You place a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” 
Grover stands and hands over your towel while insisting it’s nothing. But Annabeth cuts Grover off again to explain, “Sadie and Caroline were saying things about you…and Luke.” You understand what she’s trying to imply and give her a squeeze.
It was no secret that Luke was well admired among his peers. Most of the time, it isn’t even an issue, but there were campers who thought they could change the course of your relationship every now and then.
Sadie and Caroline easily fall under that category, seeing as they completely ignored your existence when Luke decided to take you with him during their initial tour around camp…then there was the time Caroline pretended to lose her way at camp as an excuse to get Luke away from you and alone with her. And just two weeks ago, Sadie feigned hopelessness during a sword skills session. As the instructor, it was Luke’s job to adjust her form. However, it was glaringly obvious the Apollo girl had an ulterior motive, especially when she threw a snarky smile in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking.
“Oh…You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. I can handle myself just fine.” You reassure Annabeth to the best of your ability. She nods and stands to settle herself into your side.
In your peripheral vision, Luke is jogging over to you with his shirt in hand. You don’t miss the way Sadie and Caroline ogle at the thin layer of sheen coating his flexing muscles and the lines running down Luke’s back that aren’t actually sparring scars, despite what you tell the curious kids that help him out in the infirmary. You smile when he pats Annabeth’s arm and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, is it time to head back already?” He asks, putting his shirt on as Annabeth checks her watch.
She huffs, “Unfortunately. We should get going if we don’t want to be late. I still have to grab my dagger.”
It’s a comfortable walk back, and when you reach the Athena cabin, Annabeth bids you two goodbye and runs inside. Luke’s hand is loosely intertwined with yours as you lead him to the Aphrodite cabin. He raises his eyebrows, asking, “Did you need something from your cabin? I thought you were working on archery right now.”
You push the door open, sheepishly admitting, “I am, but I was actually thinking of skipping out on lessons today.”
Luke’s tone is suddenly laced with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen at the lake?” He drops your hand to check you over, but his touch doesn’t stray far from your waist to prevent you from moving away. But the gesture is welcomed and you take a step forward, a shy smile peeking through the corners of your lips.
His worry for you falters, mirroring your love struck expression, “Oh,” Luke pinches your side. You shove his chest with a shriek. “You’re awful.” He tells you, but he’s already got a hand tracing lightly over your cheek.
Your gaze switches from his dark eyes down to his lips, “You love me.” and that’s all it takes for Luke to dip down his head and meet you halfway. Your hands reach down under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating from his toned torso. You bite down on his lower lip, and you know you’ve sent Luke’s head spinning when he lets out a short whimper. He attempts to deepen the kiss, but you pull away before he gets the chance.
Your eyes flutter open, whispering, “Do you want to skip lessons with me?”
Luke’s lips are lingering above yours when he responds, “Did you even have to ask?” and pulls you onto your bed. He settles his back against the wall and hums in content when you begin to pepper pecks on his jawline. 
After a moment, you pretend to move off of him, “I don’t know…you were pretty excited for combat training earlier. Maybe I should just let you go.”
In retaliation, Luke’s blunt nails dig into your waist, “Don’t you dare.”
A warmth flutters through your stomach when you hear the desperation in his voice. Your fingers itch to tangle themselves in Luke’s ravenous curls, lightly pulling so he can look up at you. A deceptively innocent smile paints your lips and you don’t skip a beat to get him back on you.
Heavy breaths. Discarded shirts. Whispered promises. This is how you spend the next hour in between your skipped lessons and the nightly bonfire. It’s nice, but you know it’s your cue to take a step back when the crowd of kids crawling outside the cabin becomes heavily audible.
You’re still on Luke’s lap when you say, “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes flicker from his own to his kiss swollen lips and rowdy hair. There’s an urge to run your fingers through them, but you settle for lightly tracing over the fresh love bites that are scattered across his neck and collarbone.
Luke smiles dopily while you admire your work, “I think we should skip lessons more often.”
You finally get off of him, throwing his shirt to his chest while you smooth yours out, “Don’t be such a bad influence, you’re a camp counselor.” You can’t help but stare again when the marks heavily peek out near his collar, fading in between the orange fabric.
Luke notices your longing gaze and walks over to you, “You know, you’re not the only one with charm in this relationship. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go, lover boy.” You roll your eyes and take his hand. You stumble on your way out, but Luke is there to catch you. He chuckles and lets his arm rest over your shoulders while you reach up to hook your hand with his. He helps you find your footing until your legs wake up on the way to the amphitheater.
“Wait,” You halt just before you reach the steps. You grab Luke’s necklace, gently pulling him in. You let your hands rest on each side of his marked up neck and he hisses at the feeling of your fingers gently pressing on his sore skin. Luke bites down on your lip in response, savoring the hint of watermelon that seeps through until you pull away, “Just wanted one more.”
You’re satisfied once you see the hint of pink gloss smeared at the corners of his mouth. He takes your hand again, guiding you inside. You spot some of your sisters, greeting them with a wave. They giggle at you two in response, whispering frantically to each other while you find an empty space at the front of the bonfire.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” Luke asks Sadie, who happens to be standing to his left alongside Caroline. Chris, who’s sitting a step above them, unashamedly howls with laughter at the sight. He leans forward to clap Luke on the back, catching the attention of Grover, who sighs in embarrassment, and Annabeth, who’s trying her best not to giggle at the sight of a gobsmacked Sadie. She and Caroline shake their heads frantically, broken words bubbling from their throats as they take in Luke’s glossy, blissful smile that he throws at you.
They finally give you the time of day, noticing that the reason for his contentment comes from your own swollen lips. You look back at them with a smile and take your rightful seat next to Luke, who wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, watching as they go back to their siblings to start tonight’s singalong.
If the fire glows a little greener as Sadie and Caroline lead the singalong, no one comments on it. They all know better than to mess with the insatiable charm you hold on Luke. After all, you are your mother’s daughter.
2K notes · View notes
gildeddlily · 4 months ago
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absolutely losing my mind because of these two!!!
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so.
are these two actually toxic, or are they just kids who don't know how to communicate? easy, they're just kids! (this was fast)
reading the manga will not make you understand that (or im just stupid), and this is why I'm thanking the author on.my.knees for the spin-off!
so.
after watching the anime I fled to ao3, of course. read some works about Rin and Isagi, managed to not spoil myself anything.
then i read the U20 arc. after reading every ryusae I could find (writing one myself rn, doing god's work) I finished to read the manga cause, yk, I wanted to know what would happen with my babies and then boom! Reo and Nagi!!!
I didn't particularly care about them at first: Nagi was strong ofc, but kind of boring? he's not my favourite archetype, and while I loved Reo I hated their fight and wanted nothing to do with them. key word(s), at first.
then, then! I randomly read some fics about them cause they'd started to grow on me, and boom, tons of fics about their breakup/makeup. stunning works, ofc, but I started to see so many "Reo's fault" "Nagi's fault" "toxic relationship" that I kind of started to get uncomfortable (sometimes people throw around the word toxic when it's nothing like that), so what's to do? read the spin off ofc.
that I did, and now not only I love them both with all of my heart, but I'm Reo's number one fan (and kinnie)!
and I developed a deep hatred for those "toxic x" theories and takes. SO. let me blabber and rant.
they love each other so much!!
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this is Nagi.
he thinks "damn, soccer/football is a pain, I hate sweating and running, but I don't hate Reo" even though most of the time he spends with Reo is spent playing soccer/football (I won't choose one english is so confusing- in italian it's literally called kick).
he doesn't feel forced to be Reo's friend, he likes it.
because Reo loves him, it's as simple as that.
he wants to be Nagi's friend "despite" Nagi's personality: this is something he currently says through the spin-off, which made me cry- Reo truly is the first person who ever accepted Nagi as someone who is lazy and unmotivated, who complains a lot, who doesn't put any effort in what he does, who doesn't offer much.
Or at least he thinks that he doesn't have anything special to offer, until Reo arrives.
he still has those terribly self-deprecating thoughts, but now he has something to offer, his talent.
(and after a period of happiness, their honeymoon phase one could call it, he starts to doubt the sincerity of Reo's care. from thinking "i'm not his slave, i'm his partner" he starts to doubt Reo's honesty: "maybe he only wanted to be my friend because of my talent, a talent he knows how to use"- since he still thinks that he's got nothing to offer! but we will talk about this later.)
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this is Reo!
he thinks "I wanted to be the one who could make you love soccer/football, the one able to light up something in you" but he also thinks "seeing you like that, even if it wasn't me who'd done that, made me happy".
he's so jealous he's almost funny, and isn't that the most teenager thing ever?
who wouldn't be jealous after working so hard to be special to someone, just for someone else to take the place you're working so hard for?
it's terrible, but still, it doesn't stop Reo from being happy that Nagi found something exciting.
something that made Nagi as happy as the combo Nagi-soccer/football made Reo happy.
the thing is, Nagi thinks he's Reo's friend because of his talent, which maybe it's true. maybe, hadn't Nagi been a genius, they wouldn't have become friends, but his talent was the sparkle that made him become Reo's treasure.
Reo is someone who has everything, who gets everything he wants, or as he says everything except what he really wants.
for that, he has to work.
so, what he wants is to play soccer/football, and to play it with Nagi.
(in order to be Nagi's friend, he needs to work hard, because he needs to be honest and gain Nagi's trust- this is how friendship works: even when it seems flawless and easy, there's so much work behind it, and knowing it is important. most of the times we only realise it once we lost that bond- for example, Nagi. Reo already knew it, and this is why he tried so hard to not leave Nagi's side)
at one point, the two things became linked to one another, and his dream turns into "winning with Nagi, my partner". Because Nagi is talented, is special, and Reo saw his talent, and how Nagi was unable to do the same. He wants to show Nagi that soccer/football is fun, that his talent isn't a pain, that he is special, because Nagi doesn't know it, and for Reo a star that doesn't see his its own light? is just preposterous.
He cares for Nagi and loves everything about him, even all the "bad" things, and he doesn't think that Nagi has to change, and this is what, for me, makes their break-up way more serious and relatable for a lot of people.
it triggers a "I'll change to be better" "for me you never had to change" "I need to change for myself" dynamic.
2. changing and longing is way more fun when you're doing it together!!!
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so they split up.
Nagi doesn't do it because he likes Isagi more, or because his style of play is more interesting, he does it because Isagi was stronger than Nagi and Reo: entering Blue Lock, Nagi had trust in Reo's ability to use his talent to win, he didn't even think about failing, and while Barou came close to making him feel like he could loose, Nagi overpowered him at the end- but then Isagi beats Nagi, and Reo with him.
Nagi understands that Reo's dream can't become reality if they aren't the strongest, and if being together doesn't work, maybe they should split up, part ways, become stronger and then join forces again, and win everything. win the world cup.
while his friendship with Isagi is sweet and I love them, for Nagi Isagi is like a cyclette.
he'll use the cyclette to get get fit and make his bf swoon over his legs, he won't stay with the cyclette once he doesn't need the training anymore. and even if he will, it will always be just the cyclette he uses to get fit "for" his bf.
(metaphor isn't metaphoring)
Reo doesn't know that.
he knows he's strong, but he knows that Isagi and Nagi are on a whole other level and he feels threatened. he fears that Nagi will choose Isagi instead of him, and he tries desperately to not loose Nagi.
Nagi is his dream. Slowly, day after day, Nagi became part of his dream, and now he's losing not only his best friend but the dream that made him free.
Reo says it himself- he knows that Nagi did the smartest thing by leaving, but he's young and scared and sees it as Nagi leaving him.
He feels abandoned, and he thinks that Nagi is abandoning his dream to go with the bigger fish, the apex predator, in order to become the best striker, by forgetting the promises they made at the start of Blue Lock, to stay together til the end.
Neither of them forgets the other.
Nagi leaves, and all he thinks about it "I need Reo to see this" "I can't wait to let him see how much I've improved", and he misses Reo, just as much as Reo misses him.
the only difference?
Reo is oblivious about Nagi's real feelings and thought process, and his thinking of Nagi turns into spiraling into depression and self-hatred.
so Nagi changes.
he starts to see the beauty in soccer/football, he finally sees what Reo had tried to make him see for months, and he's thrilled. he's having fun. he's grateful that Reo convinced him to not discard Blue Lock immediately. he's different.
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different why? because Isagi beat him? because Blue Lock happened?
he changed not when Isagi beat them, but the moment he became Reo's friend, and found a reason to do something.
because Reo was the first person to ever tell him that his laziness, boredom, his oh so troublesome antics were alright, that he was what he was, and he was enough not only for Reo, but for the whole world.
Reo accepted him even when he was set on being static, made him want to change, and now that he's changing he feels worthy of being loved so much.
"you saw something in me back then, you forced to me work hard, and now thanks to you I ('m on my way to) realised my own worth, now I found something exciting"
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he changes.
Reo sees him after what, a few days, and he's already improved so much.
and he thinks that he was Nagi's cage, his personal dead weight, that Nagi may have been his treasure but he wasn't Nagi's. that Nagi doesn't need him anymore. if Nagi doesn't need him, what will be of his dream?
(we could start a long-ass post ab mental health and recovering but I won't for my own sanity)
what's his worth then, since he got into Blue Lock just to stay with Nagi till the end- especially when he can't even be number two, with Isagi there- and Nagi won't be with him anymore?
he needs to change too.
3. destroying yourself in order to change (no fun)
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Reo says that he isn't brave enough to destroy himself like the others do.
Isagi, Barou, Nagi, Chigiri, they all destroy themselves in order to become stronger and change, evolve, but Reo can't. he's scared, he's confused, the whole arc is just him looking like that. then what does he do?
he lets Nagi destroy him. "If I can't do it, Nagi will" don't you understand you're doing exactly what you say you're unable to do? the fact that you're not the one pulling the trigger doesn't mean that you're not killing yourself
he pushes Nagi until he snaps and tells Reo to fuck off, that he's a pain, that he's weak and someone Nagi doesn't want anything to do with, because that's what Reo thinks.
He thinks Nagi doesn't want to be with him anymore, he's feeling guilty for what he thought (later later), he's insecure- and instead of being reasonable, he founds a way to confirm his "irrational" fears.
"I'm not being insecure since Nagi confirmed it"
he sabotages himself. that's the nail in the coffin.
instead of destroying himself with football/soccer, by learning from a lost match, he destroys himself with life, by putting on the line his relationship with the person he (not exaggerating) loves most in the world.
he's unable to distinguish life from soccer/football (and this will be the aspect that makes him so different from most of the other characters), because since meeting Nagi they've become one thing. soccer/football is his life, Nagi is his life, because they're his only chance at being happy.
(Nagi is able to distinguish between the court and Reo: this way, Reo is just as special as Isagi is, since Isagi may have made him see the fun in soccer/football, but Reo made him get angry. Nagi who thinks that his strong quality is the fact he never gets angry, that he's a pacifist. Isagi is his soccer/football revolution, Reo is his life revolution.
Reo can't. they all insult each other on the field, but they're all friends afterwards. not Reo. not yet)
now he's lost Nagi, and his dream, and he has to pick himself up from the ground.
this is how Reo changes.
4. miscommunication is a beast
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As I said before, Nagi starts to think that Reo only cared about him because of his talent. he's angry at Reo. he doesn't understand why Reo said those things, why he was so stupid, why he didn't understand Nagi.
he says "I'm not his toy" and he isn't, but really, try to get into his shoes.
he thinks his partner, his best friend, doesn't believe in them as a duo anymore, doesn't want to believe in them like he used to now that Nagi has changed, now that he's more "independent" from Reo.
"what, now that I know how to fight alone, he doesn't want me anymore?" that would be anyone's first thought.
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and he doubts Reo's trust in their dream.
when did Reo start to have so little faith in them, in Nagi? when did he give up on them? he thinks that, after spending weeks trying to improve just to make Reo's dream true.
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and he's angry, but he still hopes to play with Reo again.
he still want to, because him and Reo are partners and Nagi still believes in their dream. because he remembers Reo's passion, and he believes in him.
+) 5. being relatable as fuck
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(what kid with absent/abusive parents never thought back on their action and went anxiously all "Am I just like them?")
Reo begs Nagi to stop being so strong, stop improving so quickly, stop running towards a place Reo can't reach yet, and isn't this a human thing to do? He desperately wants to be with Nagi, and thinks that he'd rather stop him from improving rather than lose him. He thinks "Please, give up on your dream, your ego"- and isn't that familiar?
he just thought the same thing his father, a man he hates and despises and who doesn't believe in Reo, told him. and he said that to Nagi. Nagi who gave him a ticket to the top by being at his side, who let him see hope.
he panics. am I just like him? Am I cruel enough to wish for someone to give up on their dreams, just to get something out of their failure?
he's different from his father, because he's seventeen, he's scared to lose his best friend, and we can be irrational in situations like this one. does he know it? no, the same way he doesn't understand that Nagi didn't left because of him.
so yes, he's in the worst head-space ever.
isn't he relatable? this is what that made reo my favourite character in a second, probably. he's so human and he makes so many mistakes and he's so stupid sometimes, but I can see myself in him very clearly.
and now.
in what way is their relationship not balanced? their love and care not mutual? in what way one used or manipulated the other?
I think they're flawed, and they made mistakes, and they hurt each other, but I also think that we throw in the word "toxic" the moment a relationship isn't perfect.
they're friends and they're teens, they will make mistakes and they will hurt each other, and their friendship (and they were roommates) won't be perfect- this doesn't make it less genuine or beautiful.
don't get me started on what happens in the manga (really don't do it) (all of this was just nagi's spin off!!!)
558 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 11 months ago
Text
a very mamma mia christmas [mamma mia part six] | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso and jenson button
flo's first christmas looms, her parents and the grid react accordingly
mamma mia / no more ace to play / honey, honey / the age of no regret / a wonderful thing
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel and 1,667,301 others
yourusername: if you couldn't tell, christmas is our favourite holiday
view all comments
user1: i forgot to consider the thought of a mamma mia christmas
user2: i am NOT ready
jensonbutton: are we just photographers to you?
yourusername: i tried to take photos of you guys but you just insisted on throwing each other into the snow every two seconds
jensonbutton: but i won?
sebastianvettel: i reject this
fernandoalo_oficial: AS IF YOU WON
user3: i think this is the proof that fernando will never retire
jensonbutton: @yourusername tell them i won
yourusername: well i can tell you who lost ... ME BECAUSE YOU GUYS WRESTLED IN THE SNOW AND COMPLAINED ABOUT BEING COLD THE WHOLE WAY HOME
sebastianvettel: ... at least flo found it funny
yourusername: she's a baby, she finds everything funny
fernandoalo_oficial: especially me though
yourusername: ENOUGH you're all getting coal for christmas
jensonbutton: WHAT
fernandoalo_oficial: WHAT
sebastianvettel: WHAT
user4: y/n actually has the patience of a saint i'd leave them in the snow
yourusername: can't drive 💔
user5: dads are all world champion drivers and mum hasn't even passed her test. this is what balance is
alexalbon: tHAT'S THE BUNNY I GOT FLO
yourusername: yes, she loves it very much (she even named it al)
lilymunhe: he's crying 👍
alexalbon: it's christmas and i'm trying not to succumb to baby fever :(
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jensonbutton
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liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,002,566 others
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel & yourusername
jensonbutton: drawing straws to see who gets to be santa for flo's first christmas (and who has to be elves)
view all comments
user9: is everything a tussle with these people
yourusername: yes. this one is particularly amusing though
sebastianvettel: YOU RIGGED THE DRAW
jensonbutton: how could i rig it? I DIDN'T EVEN WIN
sebastianvettel: i'm not going as an elf ABSOLUTELY NOT
fernandoalo_oficial: you snooze you lose buddy
yourusername: not to stir the pot, but this was you guys' idea, so you can't chicken out now
sebastianvettel: no elf. i am going to be a reindeer instead
jensonbutton: if he's not being an elf then i'm not being an elf i'm going to be an angel 👍
yourusername: we already ordered the elf costumes ???
fernandoalo_oficial: make the grid kids dress up
yourusername: @charles_leclerc and @maxverstappen1 do i have news for you
charles_leclerc: if anyone should be an angel it should be ME
maxverstappen1: i should be the christmas star (since i am the star of this family)
charles_leclerc: if any of us have star power it's ME
yourusername: you won't even be elves for flo?
charles_leclerc: YES I WILL
maxverstappen1: DON'T BE STUPID
user10: yeah, yeah they're all dressing up BUT the real question is, do they now have cats as well?
fernandoalo_oficial: YES!! 😃 😃😃😃😃
user11: NEW MAMMA MIA LORE
jensonbutton: we were in the village centre when they were having an adoption fair... fernando insisted that cream cheese and salmon come home with us
user12: i feel like jenson did not get to choose the names ...
yourusername: nando insisted, said bagels are the foundation of our relationship
fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by jensonbutton, sebastianvettel and 1,342,882 others
tagged: yourusername, jensonbutton & sebastianvettel
fernandoalo_oficial: i won !!! (both being santa and the gingerbread house decorating contest)
view all comments
user13: mamma mia household argument incoming....
yourusername: okay... WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON THE CONTEST I CLEARLY WON I WILL NOT LET YOU CONTROL THIS NARRATIVE
user14: oh this is about to get real if y/n is getting involved in the arguments
sebastianvettel: nando, your house had the structural integrity of a flake
fernandoalo_oficial: IT DOES NOT
jensonbutton: i mean when we let flo destroy them all like a mini godzilla, yours did crumble first
fernandoalo_oficial: FAKE NEWS
yourusername: godzilla flo squished that bitch like a pancake
sebastianvettel: you can't win everything old man
yourusername: HALT WE SHALL NOT START THIS ARGUMENT AGAIN
user15: boooooooo let them fight y/n
user16: the way y/n and flo probably just sit back and relax while these idiots argue with each other
georgerussell63: gingerbread flo is so adorable !!
yourusername: thank you georgie (these guys think they're professional photographers now)
danielricciardo: woah @landonorris sub par f1 driver photography is our thing
landonorris: honestly old men, get your own hobby
fernandoalo_oficial: SUB PAR?
yourusername: he's pacing @landonorris @danielricciardo TAKE IT BACK
landonorris: no. i don't think i will
sebastianvettel: he's literally wearing a hole in my carpet from pacing MY CARPET
danielricciardo: tell him to stop being so dramatic flo looks rad af
jensonbutton: did you just call our baby rad?
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll take it, she is rad :)
user17: this is so close to my heart. if they ever stop publicising their lil spats i will die
user18: i wake up in a cold sweat thinking about how we won't hear about nando leaving cutlery in the sink, jenson letting beckett in the bed and seb forcing them all to garden
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 1,723,094 others
tagged: jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial & sebastianvettel
yourusername: seb cried when we chopped down the tree :(
view all comments
user21: someone get that man back in a car he's losing his damn mind
jensonbutton: he cried because i was just too sexy to handle when i chopped down a tree with an axe and my bare hands
yourusername: he's NOT wrong
fernandoalo_oficial: i understand the women in hallmark films now. lumberjacks are hot
jensonbutton: or it's just me?
yourusername: welp
user22: sorry seb but fuck that tree's life it looks so fucking good
user23: i'm so glad y/n isn't a sad beige mum
yourusername: tacky christmas 4 eva
lewishamilton: now that is a christmas tree wowza
yourusername: oh wow that means a lot coming from you
lewishamilton: i'm going to assume the guys weren't allowed within 10ft
yourusername: they were allowed to put the star on and pick where the homemade ornaments would go
lewishamilton: having seen their dress sense for the last 15 years, i think that was wise
user24: is seb like holding a grudge?
sebastianvettel: YES they laughed at me :(
yourusername: awwwww you baby, you're so cute
sebastianvettel: what if we've made a squirrel or a bird homeless :(
fernandoalo_oficial: there's a fuck ton of trees around i'm sure they're fine
jensonbutton: or maybe we hit them with our car on the way home
sebastianvettel: JENSE :(((((((
fernandoalo_oficial: i thought i felt a bump
yourusername: GUYS
user25: all i know is that i would not want to get into a fight with flo with these fools as her parents
sebastianvettel
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,288,493 others
tagged: yourusername, mickschumacher
sebastianvettel: you all laughed at the tree. jokes on you me and mick went and got a foster reindeer
view all comments
user26: no ever is ever as petty as a middle-aged man
fernandoalo_oficial: THAT'S WHAT THAT SOUND WAS
jensonbutton: DO WE LOOK LIKE A ZOO?
sebastianvettel: yes.
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm sorry but @mickschumacher this is why you weren't godfather
mickschumacher: NANDO
maxverstappen1: let me grab my popcorn
jensonbutton: mick we already have a dog and two cats and you let this menace get a REINDEER
sebastianvettel: he's a foster? don't talk to walter like he's not there
fernandoalo_oficial: mick you told me you were going for afternoon tea ?? i am so disappointed
mickschumacher: boo hoo old man this is why you lost 2010
yourusername: MICK?
user27: this man is well and truly off his rocker
yourusername: how long is walter here for?
sebastianvettel: he's got a bad foot :( but the sanctuary said he's great with kids 👍
yourusername: how would they possibly know that
fernandoalo_oficial: flo is not hanging out with a reindeer
sebastianvettel: not even a safe distance? :(
jensonbutton: from the window... STOP BRINGING WILDLIFE HOME
sebastianvettel: oh so fernando can bring home two surprise cats but i can't
yourusername: there is a wee difference between a cat and a REINDEER
charles_leclerc: does this mean when walter is better we can go for reindeer rides?
alexalbon: finally someone asking the real questions
yourusername: at this point you'll being coming to the north pole might as well throw in a reindeer ride as well
maxverstappen1: FUCK YES
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jensonbutton
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liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,008,653 others
jensonbutton: last time i was aware we only have one child ...
view all comments
user29: ELF MAX ELF MAX ELF MAX
user30: mia eating everyone up as usual
charles_leclerc: this is charles leclerc erasure of the highest order @sebastianvettel DO SOMETHING
jensonbutton: did you or did you not state: my ass looks too good in these tights, this can't go on the internet without a paywall?
charles_leclerc: i may have said that yes
jensonbutton: you are such a drama queen charlie
charles_leclerc: but we took other photos :(
jensonbutton: not everything has to be on instagram, that's what a mantlepiece is for
charles_leclerc: I'M GOING ON THE MANTLEPIECE ???????
jensonbutton: not if you keep being rude to me
charles_leclerc: sorry jenson :((((
jensonbutton: play piano for mia every night you're here and you're good
charles_leclerc: as if that's punishment
user31: charlie playing piano for flo is my favourite thing ever
yourusername: if we only have one baby, why do they all act like one?
fernandoalo_oficial: you insist on having all the grid kids over
yourusername: sue me i love them and i love how much they love flo
sebastianvettel: will you be saying that when we have to make breakfast for nearly 20 overgrown children
yourusername: DON'T LISTEN TO THEM BABIES HE CRIED WHEN HE READ YOUR GOODBYE MESSAGES
maxverstappen1: I KNEW I T
landonorris: me and mia really twinning here
yourusername: she really turned up, ate, got all the love and went back to sleep what a queen
danielricciardo: soz fernando i did santa better
fernandoalo_oficial: flo cried when you held her. so take that for what you will
danielricciardo: cried... from excitement
yourusername: she threw up on you
danielricciardo: FROM EXCITEMENT
sebastianvettel: you also cried?
danielricciardo: FROM EXCITEMENT?
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yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1 and 1,934,788 others
yourusername: baby's first christmas xx
view all comments
user37: it's florence's world and we're just living in it
maxverstappen1: mamma mia christmasses might just be where it's at, love you guys and mia xx
yourusername: awww maxy, we love you !! thank you for coming
maxverstappen1: the christmas dinner banged and i got to hang out with mia YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME
fernandoalo_oficial: i love this family :)
jensonbutton: he's crying, i can hear it from the kitchen - i love you all too
sebastianvettel: i think the holidays have turned my heart to a puddle can we kick these people out and have a cuddle pile?
yourusername: i love you all more (definitely)
fernandoalo_oficial: thank you guys for giving me flo, the biggest gift in the world
yourusername: wouldn't change it for the world
sebastianvettel: i love our little chaos
jensonbutton: the best christmas ever
user38: okay but next year can y/n remember she has a youtube channel and do vlogmas ....
user39: NEEDED
charles_leclerc: "kick these people out" i'd like to see you try
maxverstappen1: you're never getting rid of us
yourusername: well charles you've kind of conditioned flo to only fall asleep to piano so i'm afraid you can't leave
maxverstappen1: don't tell jimmy and sassy but i fear i have an emotional attachment to walter
fernandoalo_oficial: oh boy you've condemned yourself there
sebastianvettel: set your alarm max, we're on walter duty tomorrow
maxverstappen1: yay?
yourusername: flo and i will make sure there's a hot choccy when you get back
jensonbutton: i for one am proud of beckett for not dive bombing the christmas tree
yourusername: and he only chased cream cheese and salmon once and we can blame that on daniel
danielricciardo: FALSEHOODS
jensonbutton: did you not challenge the dog to a race that led straight to the cat tree?
danielricciardo: maybe? IT WASN'T MY INTENTION
note: ehehehehehehehehehehe feeling in a giving mood and finished this a lot quicker than expected. i FUCKING LOVE CHRISTMAS AND I FUCKING LOVE MAMMA MIA. i hope you guys enjoy, i am working on your requests.
mamma mia will return
taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu
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fishnapple · 4 months ago
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How to love yourself better? A request letter from yourself. (Channelled message)
This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.
Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐
About me | Masterpost
Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)
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1. White
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Dear myself,
If I could light a fire right now, I could, just to see if that fire can compete with my light, our light. And yet I got a feeling that fire will burn brighter than us, just because it had someone to start it. But ours didn't. We stowed our fire away, our light, for fear of burning the eyes of the world? Or for fear of being engulfed in the sea of darkness outside?
Have you ever seen a solar eclipse? People gathered to watch it, a brief moment of the sun being eaten. A brief moment. Imagine how the world would be if that brief moment turned into a very long moment, an eternal one? Panic, fear, despair. We have prolonged our solar eclipse for far too long, let the Sun has its shine. Does it sound arrogant when I talk of us as the Sun? No, you should get used to it. To be the light, the be seen. Even when the Sun seems like a solitary existence on the sky, it's not, so are we.
I wanted to tell you many beautiful words, give you praises and a pat on the head. Sounds embarrassing, right? We should learn to do that more often. And then practice it with other people too, we all need it sometimes, a lot of times.
Do you know what will happen when we turn the anger on ourselves? Somehow, it will ricochet inside us and finally shoot out at other people. It's painful, for us and for them. Let's hold it in our hands, watch it breathe and stroke it gently, find where does it hurt and tend to it, then poof- it's gone. You catch anger not by throwing it around and putting it in a cage but let it heal and fly away on its own.
I'm sure that sometimes you will find yourself drowning in life, in other people's water. Losing yourself could be your worst nightmare. But you will never lose me. It's odd how we're surrounded by people but feel like we are alone in our struggle. Where did all the people go? Are they also drowning like us? In a different sea? I hope that all the seas are connected to each other so we can all find others to swim with us.
Till the next sun rise, yourself.
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2. Pink
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Oh, how I want to just throw away everything and run barefoot on the sand. To lie face up, watching the clouds passing by for hours. To paint the wall bright pink and yellow (this combination might hurt your eyes if you stare too long, though). But we're not a kid anymore, or so people have told us, much like how we've told ourselves, convinced ourselves to behave.
It's fascinating to watch the process of our resistance to what is taught to us. Why do we resist it so much? It feels like being gravely offended. We have our principles, and now we have to listen to others telling us what is right? What is wrong? Let me tell you, in a small whisper, it's actually nice to listen. Just listening, not obeying. It will feel like swallowing a rock. Maybe we could learn from the chickens a little, metaphorically. They swallow small rocks to aid in healthy digestion. So let's swallow some of the hard lessons.
You always like to think in concrete fashion. You try to touch your thoughts with your own hands and knead them, mould them into whatever you want. And when you're dropped into a relationship with someone, you find yourself lost that ability. It's all a jumble mess. You find your hands reaching out, grasping for something. How about the other person? Are you afraid that you will lose yourself if you hold on to them? It's fine, you won't. It's just an outdated belief that you've held on for far too long.
As we were talking about swallowing, you may want to watch what you're swallowing into your stomach, literally. Watch what you eat! Don't make yourself, ourselves suffer by bringing unhealthy things into our body. We may want to live long, you know.
Hey, if you find a dance class is too embarrassing, how about we turn off the light and dance with each other in the middle of the night. Nobody will know, but we will feel good (I'm not trying to be a flirt with myself here)
Your best friend, love.
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3. Red
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Make me a cup of tea, please.
Let's have a chat, just us, lying around lazily, sipping our favourite tea, imagining some weird scenarios to entertain us, playing some puzzle.
I don't have much to tell you because we talk to each other every day and I know you always try to be better for us. I love you and I'm proud of you. Let's be vain and give ourselves applause every day. Make it a pinky promise.
A reminder when you're feeling sluggish and slow, we are going to exactly where we need to be. You are guided and protected.
Keep on shining and be the little kid that runs around in the rain.
I love it when you're running wild, letting yourself, me, free, splashing colours everywhere. I just want to grab other people's hands and drag them to the dance. I love it when you're laughing, loudly, even better when you jolted others around you, oh, their surprised look, priceless.
Just be sure to take care of your body. Don't over tasking them. Work hard, play hard, but rest hard also.
Have you been thinking about going on a trip somewhere? No? Then, allow me to make a gentle request. Let me put the idea in your head. Go on, go to wherever you're thinking, there might be a surprise waiting for us, *hint: it will make our heart flutter*.
Let's make it a ritual to go on a trip every year. Let's give our mind and spirit a makeover. Dust off any tangled mess we have and prepare a space for new things to come into. I'm so excited.
It's got me thinking lately, there's this small blinking light in the back of our mind, sometimes I can see it, sometimes I can't. I want to find out what it is. It's like a signal, trying to reach us, can you feel it? Sometimes, there's this odd feeling swelling inside that you can't put your hand on and naming it. I think if we can sit still, quiet, in the dark, we could see it better. It's guiding us. To where? I got a feeling that it's somewhere deep, somewhere with a treasure, waiting for us. If we can uncover it, it will be the greatest gift that the universe has ever given us. So let's go and find it.
Love, myself.
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4. Green
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I have some news for you. Brace yourself for changes. They're coming, very fast, very soon. Sit yourself tight. I don't want to give spoilers, but I guess we will receive some sudden confessions or offers. What you will do with those confessions is completely your choice. You don't have to feel guilty if you don't return their feelings, my dear.
I think the way the universe is sending us this kind of surprise is telling us to reconsider our 'single' thinking mode. We have stood alone, strong and independent for so long, I think it actually makes us a little too comfortable in being alone that the thought of getting into a connection with someone can be daunting. Will we lose our freedom? What if we are dependent on them? This time, the universe is saying: 'you and your worries will not make a good journey together, break up with those worries, here, I will throw in some opportunities for you to practice '.
If you don't want romantic connection at the moment, fine, different types of connections will come. No matter what, the universe is determined to get us involved with other people. It's for our own good. I have to admit that it's hard. It's not easy to change our way of thinking and believing. So surprises will be needed.
When opportunities come, the gate is opened, we just need to receive them. Walking through the gate will feel like walking out of a confinement into the wild, lively world outside. We will be propelled into a new path that we hadn't even considered in the past. Beware of what you said in the past about how you don't want to do something, you can't imagine yourself doing something. Well, guess what, we are going to do just that, joke on us.
So, in the meantime, even if you're resisting, it's fine. Just take care of yourself, of us. Obsessive worrying can sadden our body.
Something is going away, giving space to a new energy coming in. This new energy will be softer, more loving. The harshness of the past will go away soon. Trust me.
Love, Your companion.
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specialgradefckr · 4 months ago
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Heatwave: Day 4
tw: explicit content. 13k+ words. College AU. Satoru/Reader, past (unrequited) Suguru/Reader and Suguru/Satoru. afab!beta!reader (they/them), alpha!gojo. feral!gojo, feral!reader, i am not sorry
Some alcohol, but no one is actually drunk. oral (reader receiving), sex toys, dirty talk, knots, satoru in rut, satoru is a little gross but only because he's obsessed, you and satoru take turns going insane over each other
childhood friends to lovers. humor. intense platonic love. PINING. so much pining. omegaverse antics. gojo has provider/caretaker!alpha instincts. this fic is more romance than smut so just read it if you want chemistry and yearning with gojo that ends in sex.
Prompt: A beta develops the ability to smell scents and finds themselves losing their mind.
You’d never particularly minded being a beta. Sure, alphas and omegas didn’t have to deal with periods, but considering how awful ruts and heats can be, you think you got the better end of the deal.
In isolation, being a beta isn’t a bad thing, although there’s times you’ve wished you were something else.
Your best friend, Satoru Gojo, is an alpha, and that had never really mattered, either.
Then one day – you wake up, as per usual.
You meet up with him and walk to Jujutsu Technical College together; Satoru lives on campus, but he likes to walk with you. Presumably to snag an extra ten minutes or so during which to be a pain in your ass.
As soon as he sees you, he beams, a spring in his extra large stride as he comes up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.
This wasn’t unusual. He’d done this a million times before. What’s unusual is a – something in the air. You sniff, and Satoru picks it up right away, sniffing along with you.
Whatever you’re smelling, he must not detect it.
It doesn’t smell like anything specific, you couldn’t definitively match it to a food or candle or anything in particular.
It’s a sweet and sour sort of thing, similar to lemonade; it almost makes scrunch your nose, and at the same time your mouth waters as if you can already taste it.
“What is it?” He looks at you from behind those stupid sunglasses that somehow looked awesome on him. “I know it’s not me.”
“Nothing, I just thought I caught a whiff of like… a drink or something. I must have spilled it on my clothes somewhere.” You’re really sure you didn’t, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.
It makes less sense that the smell gets stronger when Satoru leans in towards you – way too close, you’ve gotta yell at him about personal space sometime – and takes an exaggerated sniff.
“You look like a pervert,” Your observation doesn’t stop him in the least. In fact, you think he sniffs even harder. “Have I got crack on me or something?” Satoru snickers at that.
“Nah, I’m actually not getting anything.” He leans in even more, almost towards your neck, “You sure you’re not going crazy?”
“Ugh, stop it, you freak!” You shove him aside, and he lets you with a laugh.
You don’t smell it again for the rest of the walk.
-
You visit a doctor’s office. Nothing has been unusual between your legs, and god knows Satoru would have teased you about it immediately if he’d smelled anything different.
But the doctor tells you why you smelled something he didn’t; alphas, especially young ones not yet out of their teenage years, were generally blind to their own scents, as most people were.
What you’d been smelling had been Satoru.
Sudden onset scent sensitivity. Real tongue-twister of a name, but it was real, and you’d looked it up after they told you about it.
It’s funny, because you’ve never had a very strong sense of smell; Satoru had always been utterly baffled by it.
Especially after presenting, he was floored at the fact that you couldn’t tell that his jacket smelled like him, to which you’d asked him (very seriously) if he had ever heard of a washing machine.
Washing with soap did typically remove the scent from articles of clothing, but it was common for an alpha or omega to run their hands over fresh laundry, or toss a clean-but-scented blanket into the dryer for a quick tumble.
Scenting stuff. You’d never really gotten the idea behind it. All humans were born with scent glands, and their secondary sexes develop those glands – along with their genitalia – in different ways.
A beta like you had no secondary sex hormones, and consequently didn’t develop any secondary sex characteristics. While betas do have scent glands, the scent they produce is weaker, and they don’t emit pheromones at all.
However, human bodies and developments were as diverse as they were weird. It wasn’t uncommon for individuals to produce a specific hormone or group of hormones, developing part of a secondary sex’s characteristics without actually presenting as one.
Turns out your body produces a hormone linked to the ability to smell pheromones. The doctor said it had probably started happening during puberty, and over the years, it eventually led to your newfound sensitivity.
That didn’t make you an alpha or an omega, but it did clue you in to something that only they could sense. A whole new world of conversations and invisible signaling going on, pheromones, scents –
And, as you learned in a painful, awkward stint past Satoru’s dorm room at the college – there was no good way of saying this – cum.
Good old whiff of cum while you walked by, so profuse it almost kind of gagged you, head racing with confusion and alarm at what the fuck this new sensation was.
But very quickly you catch on to how your heart picks up, how your thighs clench. Alpha cum has pheromones in it, after all.
And a peek into his bachelor pad later reveals a trashcan full of tissues you wouldn’t have glanced twice at before. Maybe not even once.
Just beside them is a seemingly innocuous crumpled up sock and your nose is saying yUP. THE SEXY IS ON THE SOCK.
Okay, so it’s cum. And you know it’s cum. And you’ll know it’s cum every time you visit, and every time Satoru is even a little bit messy with it, which is always, because he doesn’t know that you can smell his cum.
Cool, cool, okay, cool.
But that was fine. Totally fine, right? It’s not like you thought Satoru was a monk or anything. So, your best friend jerks off sometimes. He’s a teenage boy, it’d be weirder if he didn’t!
It’s hard to look him in the (extremely pretty) eyes that day, though.
It isn’t a gross scent, exactly, it’s just very… distinct.
Satoru’s cum does still smell a bit like him, that tangy, mouth-watering scent, but with an unmistakable undertone that your brain can only register as horny.
But like. You know what it is! You’re forced to know! And even if you’re just a beta, you can’t help how you react to the knowledge.
Even if it’s weird, though, in a (deeply awkward, uncomfortable) way you’re glad.
You were close friends with alphas and omegas, and those friendships were just like any other, really, but there was this type of communication that you couldn’t understand.
Omegas and alphas would just get certain things about one another, a natural sort of empathy that only came from shared experiences.
A party that you weren’t invited to, a bunch of inside jokes you weren’t in on, a language you couldn’t understand.
Satoru was your best friend, but you didn’t think for a second that you were his.
His best friend was a fellow alpha, Suguru Geto. You’d met in high school, years ago, and you’d been crushing on Geto for a while before he presented. You’d already presented by then and you were sure he’d be a beta, just like you.
Even though Satoru had been telling you for weeks that he’d be an alpha. Said he could just tell. He just knew. Boy, it was annoying when it finally happened.
Alpha-beta pairs aren’t the rarest thing in the world but they’re not that common, either.
You’d been hopeful about it for a while, until you see how the two of them got along, understood each other so seamlessly, connected even during their not-so-uncommon arguments.
(Satoru had always gone to you, after those, to complain. As if you’d take his side over Geto’s! Even if you weren’t infatuated with the guy, he was way more reasonable than Satoru. High school Satoru was a menace.)
Even after Geto left for a different college, there was always this layer of distance that you felt between you two after he presented.
Satoru didn’t seem to know it existed at all, but you felt it, every time he or Geto or anyone else referenced these feelings that only alphas or omegas experienced. Feelings you couldn’t understand.
“Eugh, I’m in pre-rut, it totally sucks…”
“I told you, Satoru, order one of those online rut kits. The included toys work really well.”
“Whaaaaaaat? I thought you were gonna ask out that omega guy from Chemistry!”
“Don’t remind me, I almost wish I had. God, if I did, maybe I could spend the next rut with him…”
And it was bad enough that you kept being reminded of it, that your crush was an alpha and his dream partner would always be an omega.
That you’d never be what he wanted, just what he had, even if you got together.
What was worse was how touchy they got, even after presenting. Casually slinging arms around your shoulders, both of them, hugs to say hello and goodbye, the sudden familiarity and physicality you could only attribute to them presenting as alphas.
It was apparently normal for alphas or omegas to want to scent their close friends, and you were always stuck between the two. Some kind of pack behavior stuff.
Satoru constantly took your stuff, made plans with you then cancelled later, showed up whenever you were trying to make new friends to scare people off.
Like all your free time should belong to him, even if all he wanted to do was find an omega to bang. You were young, and dumb, and Satoru was your closest friend, so you let him get away with it.
He’d always been possessive like that. There weren’t a lot of people who could get close to Satoru, and even fewer people who stayed there.
He was needy, demanding, and capricious all at once, just as likely to leave you on read than to spam you with twenty messages in five minutes.
So hot and cold. Geto got most of Satoru’s attention back in high school, and when he could be bothered to hang out with you, Geto was usually there too.
Geto was less of a raging whore than Satoru, but they talked about it casually enough for you to know they both got around. Like it was some badge of pride.
Dumb alpha crap. Even when they didn’t want you, they had to be weird towards you.
They’d steal your clothes, try to get you to wear theirs, fussing over seemingly meaningless trivialities, like which colors you liked better, whose lunch you wanted a bite from, where you sat during movie night.
Exchanging looks while you glared at them, like they were speaking in a language you didn’t know. Satoru’s arm around your neck while Geto leaned into your side.
But you could tell what was going on between them. Bumping into each other, shoving one another’s shoulders and laughing.
The casual competition that extended to everything – sports, grades, social connections – not just you. How Satoru started spending more time with Geto, hanging out without you.
Nothing was more important to Satoru than finding someone who understood him.
He’d been utterly heartbroken when Geto left, and if this was how he reacted to losing a best friend who he insisted he didn’t have feelings for, you dreaded how he’d react to an actual breakup.
For his part, Satoru had gotten better. You got better at establishing boundaries, making other friends, and telling him directly that he made you feel like shit sometimes. Slamming the door in his pretty face had never felt so good.
If you’d known how easy he was, how that was all it took to get him crying and whining and scratching at your door, then you’d have kicked him to the curb ages ago.
Satoru had tried hard to understand you from then on, to respect your boundaries; borrowing things instead of stealing, keeping his commitments, be the friend you deserved, and not do weird alpha posturing crap.
But now you could detect some of the things that they could. You had a little look into the world he’d been living in, of scents and pheromones and irresistible arousal...
And you’re just as confused as before.
Confirming what you’d always thought; you’re a beta, he’s an alpha, and nothing in the world could ever bridge this particular gap between you two.
There’s so many weird things, so many mixed signals, it honestly doesn’t make any sense.
It has to be something an omega would understand, something Satoru or Geto’s ideal partner would just get, that you… couldn’t.
You start smelling Satoru’s scent in a lot of places, not just when you’re around him.
Somewhere in your closet. Okay, that makes sense, you remember him getting something out of there one time. When you look, you find the source of the scent – a scarf.
Satoru had bought a matching version after seeing it on you; it was something he’d done before. Shown up with an identical article of clothing, crowing about it totally looked better on him. You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough at him.
He must have dropped it and thought it was yours. You’d sworn your copy of this scarf was in this closet, but you can’t find it, so maybe you wore it and left it somewhere else and forgot. Or maybe he picked up your version –
No, wait, he wouldn’t have. Satoru was supposed to be mostly blind to his own scent but he could smell yours, at least a little.
And scent blindness didn’t apply to objects or people that were actually scented… or maybe they did? You’d have to check it out. Just more alpha things you didn’t understand.
Besides, you were being pretty careless with your laundry lately. There’s an extra sock that appears in your wash, making you think that maybe he really did just leave his scarf and yours is still lying around somewhere, but the sock is nowhere near his size.
Sometimes you think this new scent sensitivity is just driving you crazy.
There’s more, too. Like a pen of yours that suddenly reeks of him; you recall having seen him put it in his mouth when staying over for a study session, but you’d assumed it was his own back then.
He would still help himself to your things these days, boy-prince that he was - he just made sure to repay you later, always with something nicer than what he'd taken. And he never took anything important.
Saliva was so strongly scented that even Satoru would have had to smell it, and he just did that to your pen? Eugh!
And how he leans into you when you’re walking side by side sometimes. An arm over your shoulder.
Now, you realize that with the way he rests his stupid lanky ass body against you, your hair often gets tucked into his neck, right where his glands ooze his electric scent all over you.
But Satoru’s weird, he’s always been weird. Probably a bit possessive, too – you remembered him and Geto doing this crap in high school, it’s just that you’re only now noticing how obvious it is to anyone who can smell it.
Then, one day hanging out in his dorm, you start to smell something different on him. His sweet and sour smell practically burns in the air like ozone, overtaking your head from the first sniff just like a shock.
Satoru doesn’t even notice you being weird about it, either, he just gets all huffy and tells you to come sit next to him.
Wait. Is he… is Gojo…
You look at him, making a face you’ve seen about a million times before, eyes glancing away as if bored.
One breath in and your senses scream horny. Horny, horny boy, horny jail, Satoru might as well be blushing and grabbing his crotch from what your brain is suddenly screaming at you.
This isn’t the scent you’d smelled before, when he had – oh god WHY do you have to be thinking this – just finished jerking off.
What??? What is it?? What is going ON? He hadn’t been watching porn or something before you came in, right?
“Satoru?” You say his name and his head instantly turns to you, like he’s standing to attention.
Something more trickles into the air just for a moment, a happy burst of pheromones reminiscent of a tiny little firework.
…He didn’t just, like, cum or anything, right?
Your name interrupts your thoughts, “What is it?” Big blue eyes looking at you. Pretty as ever.
There’s an inexplicable fondness that rushes through you, a rush of comfort, and reassurance, like you can tell him anything and he’ll help you.
“Uh, just – are you studying for Calc II? I have a test coming up.” Satoru isn’t in Calc II, what were you talking about? Why did you even ask?
“Yeah, I took it, let me get you my notes from last semester!” He shoves the chair back quicker than you’d expect, a grin creeping up his face, “Say thank you senpai~” He says in sing-song as he waves a notebook at you.
You roll your eyes. “We’re both sophomores.”
“But you’re behind me in this class,” Always so smug, “Don’t worry~ You know I’ve always got you, hm?”
Something feels too warm inside you for him to smell this horny. And why is it getting to you like this? What’s getting to you? Is this some kind of alpha thing? Does he even know he’s doing this?
You almost open up your mouth to ask him, but think better of it.
It’s not something you’d get anyways. You’re a beta and all.
“Yeah. Thanks, Satoru.”
He actually leaves you to study in peace after that. He takes the bed, claiming he just needs to review some stuff, and lets you sit at his desk and write answers.
Every now and then, you find your voice asking for help out loud with uncharacteristic meekness. Like you’re afraid he’ll tease you more instead of helping (the teasing, you expect, but surely you know he’ll help you anyways).
But Satoru darts over with an equally uncharacteristic attentiveness, looking over your shoulder, explaining the problem right away from beginning to end, patiently covering each part and answering your questions.
His face feels so warm next to yours. You know his neck – his scent glands – are digging into your shoulder where he’s looming over you, arms reaching around your side to point at different parts of the problem. Satoru doesn’t realize you smell it, but like this, his scent is overwhelming.
It leaves you flushed, tugging at your collar and swallowing dryly.
“Oh, you thirsty? I was about to get snacks!” He chirps before practically prancing off.
Satoru sounds weirdly excited to do it. It isn’t that weird – he loves study treats, “A little reward for working so hard~” – but his scent exudes a weird eagerness, a satisfaction, like he’s doing a really good job at… something.
What is this? Some alpha thing? You use the opportunity you get when he prances off to fan yourself. Take a deep breath or two.
There’s nothing weird about this, Satoru is acting the way he’s always been acting. He doesn’t know you can tell, now.
No way are you letting go of this advantage, after all that time he must have lorded it over you. In high school his scent was probably even stronger, and he and Geto rubbed it ALL over you!
Something catches your eye, though, or rather your nose. It’s on the corner of his desk, at the very edge. It smells like Satoru everywhere in here (you’d begun to learn that teen alpha boys, much like regular teen boys, absolutely reeked) but this scarf doesn’t. In fact, you think you recognize it.
Picking it up, you can smell your own scent on it, just faintly. Betas don’t smell like much, but this was something you wore often, and you can catch the faint vanilla sugar aroma that’s supposed to be peaceful and calming, like betas apparently are.
This was it, the same scarf that had gone missing in your closet. This one being yours – it still had your scent on it, somehow, even with how much Satoru reeked – and the one in your closet, as you suspected, was his.
The little thief! What was he doing with your clothing? Did he lose his scarf and decide to nick yours?
But… how could he have lost it in your closet? You were pretty sure you’d left yours in your closet.
From what you know about Alphas, they’re not supposed to like foreign scents in their “dens”, even from a mild beta. It would be immediately obvious that this doesn’t belong.
Maybe, being blind to his own scent, he didn’t notice your smell, but if he’d used it, even for just a couple hours, your scent should be totally gone from it.
So why’s it just sitting here, away from his bed or anywhere else the scent of you on it might be disturbed?
Satoru must have swapped them out intentionally. Or – why would he? If he took yours and just didn’t wear it, then that would explain it, too, right? Maybe the one in your room was yours, and he’d just swapped them back after wearing it. But why? Satoru would probably borrow your toothbrush if it saved him a trip to the convenience store, he didn’t care.
Your mind spins and spins until Satoru comes back, a couple bags of convenience store treats and drinks in hand, grinning and preening so hard – “Aren’t I just the best partner? Study buddy? You’re wel~come~” – if he were a dog his tail would be wagging wildly behind him.
Whatever. You’re just going crazy. Betas aren’t even supposed to be able to tell any of this stuff. It’s weird, you wouldn’t get it.
But Satoru gets you – has your back, like he always does. You leave his company smiling, content, like you always have.
-
After you ace the test the next night, you run at him beaming with excitement. He catches you in his arms and spins you around and you smell a pure and genuine joy in his scent as he teases you.
“Of course you aced it! You doubted my teaching?!”
“Never, Satoru-sensei~”
“Hehe. What a promotion from being your senpai!”
“I never admitted that!”
(Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. And you’ll hand it over with a smile, too, because when have you ever been able to say no to that pretty face?)
Just – you’re friends. You celebrate each other’s accomplishments, nothing weird there.
-
You see your scarf again after a night of drinking.
It’s so stupid. Satoru knows he’s a huge lightweight. He turned twenty right before finals so he’s not technically underage, but still!
So why was he drinking? You’d heard there was some kind of big get-together (Nanami was there, after all), but Satoru wasn’t a social drinker or anything. It was some kind of celebration after finals being over or whatever. Still, the Satoru you knew never drank.
Then you get a text from him, begging you to pick him up from the bar. Why? You’re a college student, you don’t have a car! He can text you, but he can’t get a taxi? He can’t be that wasted.
And you know it’s from him because only Satoru would beg for help while also making it sound like it was an honor for you to help him. Ugh.
The worst part is, even when he’s tipsy and stumbling, he’s well over six damn feet tall and easily sends you stumbling whenever his steps waver. One arm wrapped around you like you’re some kind of living crutch.
“Awh~ Came to pick me up? You really do like me, huh?” He crows, like he hadn’t pleaded with you over text. He smells like fruity vodka and – someone else. Must be an alpha he hung out with at the party.
“Someone has to.” You grumble as you deposit him into the car seat, shoving at his shoulder when he doesn’t move over right away.
He pats on his lap, head tilted back, eyes dreamy and half-lidded as he giggles. Three times, before you scoff, slam the door, and go around the other side to sit next to him. Dumbass.
The ride to the dorm is less annoying than you thought it would be, mainly because Satoru… isn’t actually that drunk at all?
Just tipsy enough to tease you to sit on his lap, apparently.
“Come ooooon! We never cuddle anymore!”
“We haven’t cuddled since we were nine, and you said I had cooties.” It was pretty normal, of course, but it had hurt at the time.
“It’s been over ten years, won’t you forgive me?” He complains, “What, you don’t love me anymore?”
“I’d love to smack you,” You mutter to yourself.
Satoru must overhear you wrong, because he wiggles happily in his seat, reaching out to pull you against him. You let him sit like that for the ride as he rambles on about his night.
It’s cute. You’re a huge homebody – Satoru knows that – but it sounds like he had fun, connected with some old friends. Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara – names you haven’t heard in ages.
By the time you get to the dorms, you’re chatting animatedly about Nanami’s choice of major and whether or not it suited him (You really can’t believe he just went into Accounting like that. Why wouldn’t he go for Literature? He loved the book club you were both in! Satoru insists he was only doing it to get girls, though).
He starts clinging to you again in that weird way (he is totally not drunk enough to need it), where he rests some weight on you but not too much, at an awkward angle since he’s so stupidly tall.
It’s just enough for you to stagger with him to his dorm room, shoving the door open while he snickers at your fumbling – “Thanks for the help, Satoru.” “You’re welcome! Aren’t I just the best?” – like some prince on his throne.
You shove him in, utterly impatient, and groan when his hand finds your arm and pulls you in with him.
Satoru spins around once like the pretty princess he is, laughing to himself, smelling like ozone again as the arousal hits your senses. But he must not notice the surprise on your face, because he reaches out a hand towards you, beckoning while you back towards his bed.
Maybe he is more drunk than you thought, if he was this turned on –
Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait wait. WAIT!
Your mind is racing ahead, thoughts flooding your synapses, eyes wide as you inhale again and detect the same thing.
The scarf. It’s there, in the corner of your eye.
It doesn’t smell like you anymore. It’s crumpled up in a corner, unmistakably dirtied.
He jerked off on it. He totally fucking jerked off on it. The scarf is literally crusted with his cum. THE FUCK???
It wouldn’t have been weird, just gross, but this isn’t Satoru’s scarf and Satoru knew that. There was no way he’d missed that it smelled like you! It might have even smelled like you when he was jerking off into it!
Did he – why would he –
If he wanted it to smell like him, why jerk off on it? He could just wear the damn thing! Actually, he had one that already smelled like him! And he gave it to YOU! Why???
The uncomfortable feeling in your chest churns harder.
You’re insane. You must be going completely insane.
The sock. No fucking way. There’s no fucking WAY. That would be so gross. Your insides are churning, hot and roiling with something and you just. There’s no way.
That’s the only explanation, because when you open your mouth, you actually say.
“Gojo did you – did you steal my sock? And my scarf?” Your voice gets higher in pitch, “And then jerk off on them?”
You’re definitely going insane, because the Satoru giggles like a kid caught with his hands in the candy jar. Maybe he really did get totally fucking smashed at the get-together. Maybe he’s been getting smashed these whole past few fucking weeks!
“Haha, yeah! I’m in rut, you can’t blame me,” He whines like he totally expects to be excused of this one little slip-up, like jerking off into an article of clothing that smelled like you was just boys being boys or some crap from high school, “And – hey! Don’t call me Gojo!”
He’s – he’s in rut? Had that been why all this weird shit was happening to you? He was just doing some weird alpha crap, and it was getting to you because you could smell it?
A groan escapes you. “Satoru.” Why does he light up when you say his name like that? Why does your chest feel so fucking – “Go sober up and pass out. I’m going home.”
You need to get out of here, before this shit gets to you any more. Satoru doesn’t know he can affect you with this. It’s never affected you before.
Your face is hot. So, so hot.
“Don’t leave.” The words sound like a whimper, like a wail, so impossibly morose. He’s on his knees already in front of you, pawing at you with both hands, clinging. “Don’t leave. Stay with me.”
Crystal blue eyes gazing up at you, wide and tearful. Cheeks still flushed a little pink. Moonlight from the window filtering over his lovely features. Lust in the air, radiating off him, seeping into you with every breath.
He’s so pretty. Satoru’s always been the most beautiful person you know. He’s in rut, and he wants you to stay, and it shocks you how a thrill runs through you at the thought. Desire molten in your chest, dripping down to your core.
“You’re in rut, and you’re drunk – ”
“Even I’m not drunk off one strawberry daiquiri,” And though you’d like to deny it, if Satoru’s sober enough to snark at you, he’s probably not that drunk. Which means this is all his rut – “And god, I’ve wanted you so fucking long. Rut’s just made it worse.”
The words should feel like they’re shattering you. Like decades of friendship are teetering on the balance, on a tightrope over one stupid night of drinks.
Instead you just feel hotter than ever. Every breath tells you what it had been telling you from the beginning, what you were just too blind to see. Desire. Lust. Want.
“I thought we were just friends,” You say quietly, like it’s some confession.
He stands up so he can cup your face, tilt it so your gaze meets his. “It’s okay if you don’t – if you’re not – you know. If it’s too much right now. I was too pussy to say it for a long time, I just scented you, and hung out with you, and whatever else you’d let me, but…”
“How long? I know you didn’t like me in high school.”
“I fucking loved you in high school, I was just a huge dick. You know that.” Those pretty eyes look down, only for a moment, “Back then, I didn’t want to fuck you. Doesn’t mean I didn’t love you to death. Still do.”
“But you want to – ”
“Yeah, I super wanna fuck you now.” He looks back at you with that stupid pretty face and that stupid charming grin, way more cheerful than it has any business being, “But you know, you’ll always be my best friend, right? My number one. If I need to spend a hundred years convincing you that I’ll be the best boyfriend ever, that’s fine.”
A hundred years? You’d dare him to last a hundred seconds without whining for what he wants like the spoiled brat he is.
But his eyes are so bright, and you can smell how much he wants you. He wants you that much and he says this.
“I’ll be so good,” He purrs, arms wrapping around you and bringing you closer to him, “The best. I’m pretty, you know. And I’m rich. I’ll go out on dates with you all the time, my treat, and kiss you, and hold your hand, and you can wear my clothes, it’ll be so great – ”
Satoru starts stepping backwards, dragging you with him towards the bed as he moves.
You chuckle. “Thought about this a lot, have you?”
“Every minute of every day. Half of it I’ve been doing already.” He reaches the bed and turns you so your back is facing it. Pushes you gently to sit.
Satoru gets on his knees in front of you again, and your heart skips a beat. You’re starting to think it’s a good look on him. But his eyes are wicked, his grin feral, pheromones suffocating you in the next breath before he speaks.
“I know you want me too. Let me eat you out.” He’s already taking off his shirt, like he knows what it does to you when you see him shirtless.
Even in high school, that lean, swimmer’s body had left you flustered. Satoru’s always been like that, so effortlessly perfect looking, so unashamed at being seen. He grins at the feeling of your eyes on him, you think he’s even posing a little bit, the diva.
“Yeah, you like that? ‘Course you do. Best alpha around.” His gaze peeks up at you through lowered white lashes, “I’m something special, aren’t I? It’s all yours, baby. All for you.”
God, he’s so beautiful. You’re so weak for him. That hopeful smile makes your heart tremble. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, ethereal with his white hair and shimmering blue eyes and lean, muscled body, and it’s all for you, all yours, baby.
“Satoru…” For a moment, you truly can’t believe this is actually happening.
And then a large, warm hand finds its way into one of yours, threading between your fingers, an easy smile on his lips as he looks up at you. This is him, your best friend. Satoru. Your Satoru.
He nuzzles his head against your legs, digging underneath your pants with impatient fingers, “Say you want me, just say it. I’ll make you feel so good.”
“Why – why are you asking all the sudden?” Your will to resist him is dropping exponentially and you’re pretty sure he knows it. “Why now?”
“Why right now? I’ve been dying for you since my rut began, and finally got myself a dose of liquid courage.” He brings your hand up to his face, kissing over your knuckles. “But if you want to know why I want you… It just happened. Woke up one day wanting you and it never went away.”
“Wanting to fuck me, or wanting to date me?” You’d never thought Satoru would want you. It just seemed so impossible. “I’m a beta, it’s not like I can help your rut.”
Your hand is pressed against the front of his pants, unbearably hot, bulging outward. His fingers trapping your palm against it. It’s like you can feel him pulsing through the fabric. A knot big enough to break you.
There’s a part of you that’s thrilled at the idea, that makes you clench and think I could take it, makes you want to try and shove it inside, but you fantasized enough about Geto and his knot in high school to know. It would be sexy for about three seconds, and then it would just hurt.
Not the good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that leaves you hyperventilating, snot and tears crying as you panic over the possibility of an embarrassing ER visit, wondering if you’ve actually ripped something down there, it hurts that much.
“It’s all for you, babe, whether or not you want it. It’ll always be for you.” Satoru purrs, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, “I’d take your hands over any omega’s pussy any day. Fuck, please, just spit on it, I could cum from that, you know?”
You giggle, bewildered and unreasonably turned on. “You sure you’re not still that stupid horny alpha boy from high school?”
Satoru leans forward so his chin rests on the edge of the bed, looking up at you from between your legs. You become explicitly aware of the wetness growing against your panties.
“Nope. Stupid horny high school me didn’t know shit. This is your modern Satoru Gojo, older and wiser and better than ever.” His eyes sparkle at you. Hand squeezing yours. “Let me? Please, please, let me?”
“Yeah,” the word leaves you like a sigh, from you and from Satoru, “You talk a big game, Satoru. Just try and make me cum.”
You don’t know why you make it out to be a challenge. It’s not easy to make you cum, but it’s not this impossible task either. He’s a clever boy, he can figure it out.
Step one he’s clearly got down perfectly, tugging your pants and panties down in a move so fast it tugs into your knees. You don’t have time to move for him before he lifts your legs for you, dragging your clothes entirely off in one swift, merciless movement.
Oh. You are wet. Your face heats up, and it doesn’t get better because then he grabs your thighs and tugs them apart, spreading you and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, where his face is.
“Okay baby,” He whispers against your cunt, breath hot against you, “One last time. Show me how you touch yourself, show me what you like.”
One last time?
God, you should have known this idiot would need pointers. Even if it was a perfectly reasonable ask.
“Sure, since you need it so much.” You mutter, mostly at the heat on your cheeks, the wiggling feeling in your chest at the way his eyes roam over you, following your hand down between your legs.
Something hot and slimy meets your fingers as soon as they get close, and you nearly yelp –
“Just helping,” Satoru’s got that awful self-satisfied look on his face, and he licks your fingers again, like he wants to suck on them, “Get you nice and wet, first, should never go in dry baby.”
At least he had that much sense. It’s hampered by the fact that he’s talking to you like he knows shit.
“Excuse me, this is still my pussy,” Covering your mortification at touching yourself to an audience with words, you dip your fingers into your entrance just to wet them up some more.
“Not for long,” He grumbles. What? “Just show me how you like it.”
“I’m trying!” You press against your clit from the side, rubbing against it indirectly, leaning into the sensation until you feel pleasure pooling from each press. “No thanks to… the peanut gallery over here.”
Satoru does shut up for a moment, and you try not to think about how it’s because he’s staring intently at your sex, like he’s about to take notes on it or some shit.
Fuck, fuck, he’s so stupidly pretty. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of those beautiful eyes on you. Curse your terrible fucking taste.
You focus on the presses, speeding them up just enough to not be too much, increasing how far you press in, just a little more, moving your hips to nudge yourself into it –
“Okay, enough.” A larger hand snatches your wrist, pulling it away. Your huff is nothing short of indignant and half-disbelieving. But then again, what had you been expecting? “I got it. No more touching yourself.”
The way he says it, blue eyes darkening, sounds a little more serious than it should. Voice a little lower. Scent dusting the air with something powerful, authoritative, distinctly alpha.
He doesn’t mean…
The thought is interrupted by the sensation of his mouth, warm and wide and open against you, so sudden that you cry out with the heat of it. Wet and welcoming.
His hair threads through your hands. It’s soft, so soft. Like feather down, fluttering at your fingertips. In the pale light pouring through the dorm window it shines like starlight. Something heavenly and pure and right there for you to hold.
Even when your hands fist in it, Satoru just moans, rumbling against your cunt as he lapped against it, drawing you dangerously close to the edge.
Those lips, those pretty, pouty lips, pressing tight against your clit while his tongue works over you. Smooth muscle laving over slick flesh, slipping through your folds.
A naughty dip into your entrance that makes you squeak, just exploring. Tracing along the edge, darting in to sample.
When he pulls away, mouth sinfully wet and shiny with strings of arousal, Satoru meets your eyes directly, deliberately. You watch him raise his two index fingers to his lips, open that awful, sultry mouth, and stick them both in.
The way he does it, tongue hanging out and pooling saliva, then laving it over his fingers, you almost expect him to start moaning like a pornstar.
He’s too dumb to do that, though, and instead closes his mouth around his fingers, sucking on them, and pulling them out with an exaggerated pop!
Yeah, that’s your Satoru. Dumbass. You’re horny and amused, and a little bit mad at yourself for it, too.
He catches it when you roll your eyes at him, and sneaks his warm, wet fingertips right up into your entrance while he latches his mouth onto your clit.
The fingers slide in almost too easily, but his are long. It doesn’t take him long to start curling them, dragging them along your walls inside until that, combined with his suckling at your clit, has you whimpering breathlessly, grasping his hair for dear life – it only makes him moan more, and that only makes sparks of pleasure dance up your already tight, throbbing core.
And it’s annoying, so annoying and so hot and unbearably fucking sexy how he looks up at you right when you’re at the edge, like he knows.
Free hand tightening on your thigh like he’s got to keep you from running away from him, pressing his tongue into your clit.
Rubbing it tightly like he fucking knows exactly how hard it sends you spiraling, panting and wide-eyed as you stare down at the beautiful man eating you out like you’re his last meal ever.
You can barely breathe for the way it takes you, hard and fast, flooding you all at once. Blood soaring with every heartbeat, pressure unfurled into ecstatic currents that ripple out from your core, through your whole body.
Satoru suckles on your clit gently, somehow in perfect time with the waves of pleasure that rush over you, making each one crest just a little bit higher than it should.
He never takes his eyes away from yours. He stays like that, softening, letting up as your climax abates and your clit starts to tingle, oversensitive.
Of course, when he pulls away, he looks invariably pleased with himself. You’re not going to say this out loud (regrettably, it looks like he knows anyways, somehow, he just knows this shit about you) but he absolutely should be.
It was a rush that went through your whole body. You felt like you were flying, breezing freely through the air with Satoru keeping you light.
“What, you want a medal?” It doesn’t have much bite to it with your voice all low and breathy and sated. Satoru just grins.
You move to lay back, but Satoru catches you, straddling you on his knees so he’s not sitting on you, pulling you forward against him. The bulge at the front of his pants rubbing up against your abdomen.
“If you’re offering a reward for my skills, I know just the thing~” Satoru sings.
Utterly cheeky of him, to spring this on you while you’re still in the afterglow. “Satoru...”
"Can I put it in? Please please let me put it on, I promise I'll be so good – "
You smack him upside the head, even though his whimper makes you feel both guilty and horny. Extremely horny, actually. He looks really cute, pouting like that, lips pursed like you really hurt him oh so bad. Like a dog that’s been scolded for something it doesn’t understand.
And maybe he is, with the rut in his brain. Stupid and horny and helpless to refuse you because of it, filled with nothing but the need to please you – every thought flowing through your head starts trickling between your thighs.
"No fucking way Satoru, you know I'm not built for that."
Then he whines, wide eyes looking up at you pleadingly, and you actually feel yourself dripping, clenching, ready for him again when you just came moments ago. Cunt aching for the warmth of him.
God, leave it to Satoru to turn you on so much your dumb ass is willing to even entertain the idea of knot training. He’s in rut. You’re just horny and too dumb to have learned your lesson about pining for alphas in high school.
"Not this time. I need practice." You feel yourself flushing even though it's your own suggestion.
He grins, all teeth and hunger. Eyes bright with something that makes your heart flutter.
"Not this time,” he agrees, “I'll train you. Stretch you nice and slow. Over and over and over again until you can take it without hurting. I’ll train you until you are made for it, made for me, won’t put it in until you’re begging. My omega.”
When did you say he would be training you? And why do his words send liquid fire running through your core?
“Not an omega, Satoru.”
“You’ll be mine.” Triumph laces his voice, “I’ll treat you so nice, I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll never want any knot but mine.”
Now he’s just going full alpha brain, “I didn’t want any knots in the first place!”
“You’ll want mine.” He says it with an utter confidence only Satoru Gojo can possess, “You’ll love it. I’ll make you love it. I’ll be so good for you, I’ll be the best alpha, you’ll never have to make yourself cum again.”
And god, good god, how can he go from puppy dog eyes to proud alpha crowing in the blink of an eye? You just told him you didn’t want his knot! And you only half meant it! God!
“We’ll see about that,” Grumpy, flushed, that’s all you manage, and you’re not even that upset about it.
He rubs up against you like a cat, purring, “I’ll make it good for you, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
Then you should take care of him, this time.
“Go get your toy, Satoru.” You tell him like you’re telling a dog to go fetch.
And he does, all eager and grinning as he darts towards a shelf, tugging a toy out of the drawer. It’s literally huge, enough that you might not be able to encircle it with two hands.
“Not as good as you,” He whines as he grabs the lube. You roll your eyes because he’s had none of you yet, “Wouldn’t be as good as you, any of you. You’ll use it on me yourself, at least, right?”
“Yeah, I’m using it on you, dumbass,” You fix him with a look, and he holds your gaze with a pout, “And get used to the idea.” God, you’re flushed again, this is all just so… eugh. “…Cause… you know. We’ll have to go through a lot of knot toys with me, so…”
There’s a spring in his step all the sudden, thrilled at the thought. Brightening as soon as you say “Yeah” – God, was Satoru always this easy?
He lays the toy on your lap like he really is a dog going to fetch, the awful terrible idea you were thinking of comes into shape.
It’s so embarrassing, just the thought makes you feel so… presumptuous, like you’re assuming so much about something you barely understand.
But he wants you. He said he wants you. So you do it.
Flushed, reaching between your legs (the audacity of him to whine and try to tug your hand away), you gather up your own slick and cum and other fluids, cupping them in your fingers.
Satoru’s eyes dilate, face blank with his staggered breath, as he watches you smear it all over the toy, particularly at the entrance. You squirt in a portion of the lubricant, too, reaching in and spreading it with your other hand. This should feel gross. This is super gross.
You’re so fucking wet. You could put even more on it. But something tells you Satoru would prefer that elsewhere.
“Come on, then. You bragged about it so much.” You look at him, eyes half-lidded, lips curled upwards as you loom over the fleshlight. “Show me the goods, alpha.”
With a fast breath he nearly rips his pants and boxers off, cock springing free of its confines and – oh. Oh. Yeah, you were definitely not getting that inside you tonight, not in any universe. But the thought of it makes your thighs clench reflexively.
It’s a pretty cock, too. All red and flushed, dripping and swollen at the tip. Long, unreasonably so, even with the heavy knot at the base. And this is before it’s expanded.
No wonder the toy’s so big.
You scoot back on the bed, legs spread wide, and you pat between them. Satoru’s taller than you, bigger than you, and you quickly realize this isn’t going to work with you sitting behind him, even if he wriggles happily when his chest presses to your back.
(You file this information to use against him one day, though. Satoru would probably melt if you let him be the little spoon.)
Spinning, you move so that you’re straddling his lap. Satoru seamlessly scoots back, giving you enough space to rest yourself on his thighs and trap his cock between the two of you.
You look at his (unfairly pretty) face. Back down at his dick. At his face again, where he’s smiling an awful, conspiratory sort of smile. All but vibrating with excitement.
When you spit on his dick he moans like he nearly is going to cum, and your cunt clenches at the sound. He wasn’t joking, was he?
Your hand darts down between your legs, and Satoru’s eyes darken at the sight, growling. The same hand quickly wraps around his cock, slick with your arousal. Satoru gives a shuddering gasp at the sensation, hips jerking into it. Everything he does has you getting wetter, it’s effortless for him.
And he knows it, too, smells it, because even while he’s catching his breath he gives you that terrible charming smirk that has you burning in the pit of your stomach. So annoying. Your hand tightens and he makes the most pitiful whimper.
You’re hit with the sudden and very real desire to take a bite out of him.
Pretty boy. Pretty boy, all for you, naked and bare in front of you, aching and whining for you to do with him as you please. You think you even see him drooling a little.
You take his lips instead, face tilted upwards as you press your mouth into his, like you can drink him up if you stick your tongue far enough into his mouth.
He’s sweet, because of course he is. A little strawberry, the faintest touch of alcohol.
Your teeth close on his lips, tender, soft, yielding. It’s so easy just to clench down, hard, while your hand pumps his cock some more, and it throbs, violently, as the taste of blood fills your mouth. He moans into it, tongue sliding, dancing against yours like he wants to lick you up.
He’s panting, still, when you pull away. Lips red and swollen and bleeding.
Satoru grins at you, bent over, eyes glittering. Wiping blood from the corner of his lovely mouth.
 It’s not enough to bite him. You want to devour him whole. You want him to be yours. You want to see him cum.
“Say my name.”
You hear it.
You fit the toy on top of him, and his hands dart towards you, grasp you with deceptive firmness, like you’re all that can anchor him. His nostrils flare as he slides into the toy lubed up with your own fluids, taking in the scent of you.
He’s probably smelling how wet you are. You slam it down, all the way to the knot, to wipe that stupid smirk on his face.
It works. Now his eyes are wide with shock, mouth gaping open, a noise like a squeak emerging from him as he squeezes his eyes tight, hips squirming uselessly to fit more of himself in.
Delight, wicked and thrilling, lances through your chest at the sight of him. Face flushed, eyes squeezing as he fights to keep them from closing, lips in a wide “O” like some kind of pornstar. God, he’s just too fucking hot.
Without thinking you bring your other hand to his lips, and Satoru closes his mouth around your wet fingers and moans. His half-shut eyes flutter at you, like he’s trying to tease you. Tongue threading between your fingers, cheeks going hollow as he sucks them clean.
His hips thrust up, eager, and he whimpers again. “Say it again.”
Your name, again, warbled around the fingers in his mouth as you twist the toy around him. You press it against his knot just for a moment.
“This is for me, you said?” You pull your fingers away, pull the toy up, and he whines at the absence, like the drama king he is, “You’re hard just for me? A beta?”
When he opens that unthinkably sexy, sultry mouth of his, you slam it back down again. It hits his knot and you bear down, “Ah – hahhh – ahhh~”, and god, your heart is racing and he’s only halfway in.
“Fuck,” He sobs, “Fuck, yes, please – ”
It’s hard to pull it up after that, his knot swelling and throbbing and Satoru squirming like some kind of desperate whore. Clawing at your shoulders as you pull the toy up again.
He keens when your hands leave him, only to brighten visibly as you tug your shirt and bra off. Oh, he’s lost all coherence but he can still cheerfully ogle you, huh?
One of his hands reaches for your breast, mindlessly squeezing. It’s so large he can hold it in his entire hand, and you watch his eyes dilate as he tries to buck up for more stimulation.
You reach back, pumping him again, and you keep pressing it down against his knot, shoving it a little further each time. His words are senseless, mumbles and mutterings, and his eyes don’t leave your body for a moment, like he’s drinking you in.
When you reach the widest part of his knot he actively wails, seizing you at the waist and digging his nails into you, and it burns like hot lines of pleasure over your skin. He’s shuddering now, all lean muscle and powerful form turned to a shivering mess before you, for you.
“Just a little more,” You breathe, “Almost there, baby. You’re gorgeous, so fucking beautiful,” a heavy SHOVE and Satoru cries out as his knot finally slips in.
The breath he lets out is pure relief and yearning tied in one. It’s harder to push down now with him lodged in it. His hands loosen around you, gaze going unfocused, and he mumbles something you can’t quite make out. His hands paw at you, like a blind man groping in the dark.
He’s really, really pretty like this. Needy, teary-eyed, desperate like a dog.
While you work the toy in short strokes, your other hand reaches up to his well sculpted chest, to the supple flesh of his pecs where you dig your nails into, just to hear him whine. To watch a streak of red mark where you draw your nails across him.
When you scratch across his nipple he whimpers again, hips shuddering so much it’s hard to keep the toy on him. His face flushes even harder, eyes trembling, grasping at you with quivering hands.
His abs, perfect like the rest of him, tighten, clenching up. His thighs clench up, too, and you see him actually thrust up into the toy, eyes wild with need. Satoru finally gets a grip on you, and he leans in, too, shoving his face into your neck.
It takes you a moment, pumping to toy to make sure he doesn’t lose his peak, for you to realize he’s smelling you. Taking long, deep breaths of your scent, shuddering like a man who’s found his paradise.
You lean your head to the side, just a little, just to meet his eyes. He looks up at you, he smells you; enraptured, delighted, desperately aroused by the sight of him.
“Say my name,” You beg him, “Satoru, say my – ”
He cums with a cry of it, a wail, and you realize what he’d been mumbling before. Shaking in your arms.
There’s something feral in your chest, something about him in this state that drives you absolutely mad. You keep pumping the toy, even just a little bit, hard friction against his swollen knot, the cum that must be hot and packed against him now.
He wheezes, delirious, and you think for a moment he sounds like a dog toy. You think you want to make him your dog toy. Squeaking while you squeeze him, with your hands, your mouth, your cunt.
He’s too pretty like this, too perfect. All yours, he’d said, and now he’s crying on your shoulders, shuddering with the strength of his climax.
“My alpha,” You coo, breathless, “Only for me.”
Satoru nods dumbly, pretty lips wedged apart, eyes bleary. Pressing a kiss to your neck, licking mindlessly at it. His skin is hot, like all the rest of him, flushed from his release.
You want to give him more. You want to mess him up. You want to fuck him up, take a bite out of him for everyone so everyone sees a piece missing, a piece that belongs only to you. You want to see him cry.
So you pull away to get a better look, but he clings to you. When you push him it feels like trying to tear your own heart out, so you let him kiss and suck against you until he’s kissing up to your lips.
Pretty white lashes fluttering while he nips at your lips, gentle as a kitten with tearstained cheeks.
Then he pulls back on his own and grins at you, so cocky you forget he cried at all.
The toy can’t come off him, locked where it is until the knot goes down, but that doesn’t seem to stop him in the slightest.
“I can smell you,” He pants, “I can smell it. You’re ready for me? Got so turned on by fucking me with that toy, huh?”
There’s heat in his eyes, a wicked smile tracing at his lips, but you meet his gaze with your own fire. “So turned on. You looked so pathetic and pretty, whining and bucking into that toy like a desperate whore. If you’d moaned any sluttier, Satoru, I would have creamed my panties.”
His laugh is almost a howl, “Hahaha! Yeah! Just for you, baby.” He leans in to steal a kiss, “A slut for you. Let me show you just how slutty I can be, I can fuck you so so good baby.”
Your laugh is cut off by his fingers prodding at your mouth, “Spare some spit for your slut, yeah?”
The look you give him, like you’re telling him off while trying not to laugh, sends a shudder of emotion through him that you can’t identify.
You use the moment to open your mouth wide, letting your tongue loll out. Transfixed blue eyes follow your tongue dragging up his fingertips, how you drool on them, moving down and then drawing it up again to wet them.
Satoru makes a little noise and twitches and you know the toy has just milked another little squirt of cum out of him. Maybe knots are kinda cute.
And then he looks back into your eyes. Quick as a whip, closes his mouth around your fingertips, rolling his eyes back with an exaggerated moan, and he’s so fucking stupid and you’re so turned on you actually feel yourself throbbing. Your hands dart down to feel it.
Well, you’d known you were wet, but this was just embarrassing. Worse, since he could smell it.
 “I’ve got you. Let me have you, I’ve got you. Leave it to your alpha.”
“Really big words from a guy who was crying when I pumped him with a fleshlight.”
Satoru doesn’t balk, he only grins. With teeth. “You bet I did, baby. Fucked me so good,” he purrs, rubbing up against you again, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed once more, “And I got you all hot and bothered, didn’t I? So let me take care of that for you.”
God, he really knows no shame at all. No wonder he didn’t bother to smother his moans. He knew what they did to you. He always knew what he did to you.
Except, you suppose, with the pheromones that are telling you right now to lie down and let him eat you into oblivion.
Your fingers draw up to your clit, gently pulsing again at the hungry look he’s giving you.
He bats your hands away from your cunt, “I told you I’d take care of you. Spoil you so good. You’ll never touch what’s mine again.”
“What’s yours?”
“You are, baby, all of you. Shouldn’t touch my cunt unless I say you can, that’s my job. Don’t tell me you think I can’t make you feel good?” His eyes sparkle in challenge, teeth bared in a grin.
That’s like, an under-negotiated kink or something. He totally doesn’t own you. He definitely can’t tell you not to touch yourself.
God, it’s such a fucking turn on. Every word has your cunt throbbing harder. It’s probably just dirty talk. Right?
“What,” You drawl, but your breaths are getting shorter as his fingers find their way inside you again, “Can you take responsibility for that, huh, Satoru?”
“I’ve never wanted to take responsibility for anything more in my life.” His fingers delve deeper, thumb rubbing over your clit.
You choke out a laugh, legs quivering. “Not a high bar.”
“It’s okay,” He steals another kiss before he falls off the bed and onto his knees again for you, “I told you, I can do it. You don’t need to touch yourself ever again. I’ll do it all. You shouldn’t have to rely on anyone but your alpha.”
“Ah,” Fuck, you really can’t speak at all, but – but every word is turning you on more, pulsing, pulsing, blood flowing down to the throbbing mess between your legs, “Ah – f-fuck! You don’t mean that, Satoru.”
Another breath, and then you continue, “What, are you really going to drop everything just to – to get between my legs – whenever I want to cum?”
Satoru groans like a broken man. “Please.”
His thumb is replaced on your clit with his tongue, just the right heat and slickness you were craving. Every lap sends your tender nerve endings throbbing. Thighs shaking. Close now.
“If I – if I ever want to touch myself, I just call you, you’ll come racing? Make use of that pretty face – hng, whenever I want? If I ever want to shut you up, I just sneak my hands beneath my panties – ”
The sound that comes from him sounds like it could be a sob, his hands wrap around your legs, seizing them in place as he abandons everything that’s not sucking your soul out through your clit, and fuck, fuck, how is he so perfect at this –
It comes, knocking the breath out of you, leaving you gasping. The heavy tug between your legs finally overwhelming your senses until everything just feels so good.
You reach out, groping numbly until you feel his soft hair in your hands, no strength left to squeeze.
Heat rocks through you, racing up your spine, swelling and swelling until you’re just warm everywhere, limbs tingling with a pleasant, blissful sort of numbness.
A hand settles over yours, large, heavy, and unbearably tender.
Every breath is orgasmic on its own, air flowing through you, heat radiating outwards until you feel it dissipate away gently.
Satoru’s moved you, slid you to lay on the bed while he sits over you. You don’t know when he did that, didn’t feel it.
It doesn’t matter. His hand threads through yours, and you watch him raise it up to kiss it again, lashes fluttering, lips still wet with your cum. There’s this look on his face, reverent and desperate, like he still can’t believe he’s gotten this lucky.
Finally, you see the toy slipping off, and with it, a gush of cum, sticky and trailing from his wet, stinging cock. He hisses at the exposure to open air. You’d honestly just tell him to put it in you if you weren’t worried he’d knot you in his sleep.  
Satoru settles beside you, arms wrapped around your form, face buried in your neck.
“Love you.” You feel it more than you hear it, mouthed against your neck, “Love you so much.” A drop of wetness on your throat. “Love you, love you, love you… never leave me, please, never… love you so much.”
His fangs glance over your throat, where no mark they leave will ever stick.
Your heart spills out of your chest a little, through your mouth.
“I love you, Satoru,” You murmur, “I’m a beta, I can’t give you what an omega can, I…” Old wounds, all healed over and aching. “But I’ll give you what I can. If you want it.”
Arms squeezing you. His teeth turn into a kiss, up, up, up your jawline until he’s face to face with you.
“I want it,” He says, eyes shimmering as he leans in to claim your lips. “I’ll always want it. Always you.”
-
Hours ago
“So are you guy still friends?” Suguru asks, sipping his beer, “You were such a bitch about them in high school. I almost thought you wanted to date them, but with them being a beta and all…”
Satoru groans. “Don’t remind me. I mean, I get how I was in high school, but they liked you, didn’t they? So they’re definitely into alphas.”
“They were. Maybe we permanently turned them off,” he snickers, drawing another groan from Satoru, “What changed, anyways? Why do you want to get with them now?”
“I dunno, man.” Gojo sips at his drink. “It was like one day I was walking them to campus, and they were showing me this picture of a white cat with blue eyes. And they were smiling while they said It’s you, Satoru! and I was about to tell them to shut up but my chest just… exploded.”
“No way. That’s what got to you?” A smile plays on Suguru’s lips, “Do you still have the picture?”
 “Shut uuuup. Anyways, I thought about it later and I thought, I want to walk with them every morning for the rest of my life. I want to never go a day without talking to them, or hanging out with them. Want to crawl in their silly little beta brain and live there rent free for the rest of my days.”
Satoru never paid rent to live in anyone’s head, and he lived in everyone’s. “Who’s to say you don’t already?”
“Not like I want to. I want them to think about me all the time, like I think about them. I want them to feel like they’ll die if they don’t see me every day."
His eyes shine with something dark and blue. "I want them to be all mine and no one else’s. I want them to think of me whenever they want something, come to me for everything.”
It’s as good as a love confession, coming from an alpha. Satoru doesn’t have to say it – Suguru knows what it means.
“So… have you told them?”
He startles when Satoru bangs his head on the table. “I wish! It’s like there’s nothing I can do to get them to look at me!”
"So... you haven't said anything, and you're just complaining that they aren't throwing themselves into your arms?"
"Exactly!" Satoru huffs, "I can tell I've gotten to them a little recently, too! We spend like, every waking moment together, and they let me. Why won't they just ask me out already? It's been months, I don't want to spend another rut alone!"
That actually is impressive, coming from Satoru. Back in high school, he would never spend his rut alone, until he and Suguru got close.
Suguru’s chuckle is nothing short of sinister, “God, you’re such a whiny bitch. Can’t believe you didn’t present as an omega.”
“Oh, fuck off.” He snarls, taking another swig of his fruity cocktail. Suguru wonders idly if he knows how much alcohol is in that.
“Sometimes I honestly thought you liked them back in high school, you were so damn clingy all the time. Total omega behavior. I would scent them for five seconds and you’d throw a total fit.”
The glare, the sudden sharp spike of angry alpha pheromones catches Suguru off guard. “You didn’t mean it, though! They had feelings for you and you knew it, and you didn’t like them back! You think I’m just gonna let you fuck around with my friend like that?”
“Hey, hey,” He shakes his head, like that can get the scent out of his nose. “I would’ve dated them, you know, treated them nice. They were cool, I would have given it a shot with them even if they were a beta. But they were so worried about your feelings, they couldn’t even confess.”
“Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve,” Satoru mumbles into his fruity drink, slumping forwards. “They would always side with you in arguments, too.”
“That was because you were an idiot. Godzilla couldn’t take on an Evangelion in a fight and you know it.”
“Dude, the cable! Literally all he’d have to do is cut the cable! I said this a million times! They were crushing on you, that’s why they said you were right.” His nose crinkles in that unbearably cute way. “The fuck was so great about you anyways? I’m way prettier.”
That makes Suguru laugh out loud. Satoru would know. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, Satoru. You’re pretty even when you sulk.”
“Shut up, asshole. You didn’t deserve them, anyways.”
“Yeah,” He sighs, “I guess I didn’t. You didn’t, either, in case you were wondering.”
“Didn’t fuckin’ ask.” Satoru sounds so pouty that he laughs again.
He gives Satoru’s shoulder a good-hearted slap, drawing out a growl from his friend. “We were a pair of fucking jerks back then, you know that. They should’ve ditched our dumb asses the week we presented.”
“You were a jerk. I never led them on, and it’s not like they noticed the scenting!”
“Heh. God, we got away with so much shit because they were a beta and didn’t know what was going on. Got into a pissing contest over a beta we didn’t even want to fuck.” Suguru sighs with a smile, leaning an arm on the bar. “I guess they were just that good of a friend, huh.”
Satoru bites his lip, resting his face on his crossed arms, laid over the table. “Yeah. The best. The one person I never wanted to lose, no matter what. I was so pissed off that you were stealing their attention when you didn’t even like them back.”
“Yeah. I know why you didn’t follow me when I left.”
Satoru snorts. “Don’t sound so morose. I was upfront with my plans from the beginning, you were the one who chose another path.”
“I thought we were friends, though?” A smile plays over Suguru’s lips. Nostalgic.
���So did they. You ditched them, too.” He glares at Suguru out of the corner of his eyes. “Sure, they were too cowardly to confess to you, but you could’ve said something. You never even told them you could smell it when you turned them on.”
“Ha! Neither did you.”
“Why the fuck would I? That shit pissed me off. You’re not that hot.”
Suguru grins at him, “I’m not? You know, I can smell it when you get hard, too – ”
“Oh, fuck off!”
“If it wasn’t for me, then it must have been for them.”
Surugu knows damn well how many times Satoru got a boner because of him. It gets Satoru all cute and irritable.
“Go fuck yourself, Suguru. You can change the subject all you want, but you still ditched both of us. You think I should’ve ditched them along with you?”
He looks down, at his almost-empty beer. “You think they wouldn’t have followed you, if you followed me?”
Neither of them says anything for a moment. Satoru takes one last drinkof his fruity cocktail. His cheeks are flushed a faint pink; painfully attractive, even now. Prettiest alpha he’d ever seen.
He can’t even deny you deserve an alpha like him.
Beautiful, confident, loyal Satoru, who adored Suguru all throughout high school, but wouldn’t leave you for him.
Satoru who cared way more about protecting your feelings than acting on his own. You who cared more about Satoru’s feelings than your crush.
That’s not the kind of friendship you can get just by being similar, by understanding each other. It’s something you raise by hand. Feed it, shelter it, tolerate it when it throws a fit. Learn with it, grow with it, care for it even when it’s shitty. There’s married couples who don’t try that hard.
If friendship is love, then you and Satoru had been in love for years, and Suguru was just the best friend.
“I texted them.” Satoru blurted out. “They’re picking me up tonight.”
“Oh?” Suguru gives him a sly glance. “You telling me after all these years, you’re finally going to shoot your damn shot?”
A scoff. “Nah. I mean – I told you. I really didn’t have that sort of feeling for them back then.”
“Oh, I know.” He rolls his eyes, “But I figured it was going to end like this when you didn’t follow me. If you weren’t willing to leave them for me, then who would you leave them for?”
“Cut the shit, Suguru. If you love someone you don’t make them choose. Whatever you felt for me, your plans for the future were more important than that.”
Suguru stares at his hands. “Why do you think I didn’t ask you?”
Satoru looks away.
They both know why he didn’t ask.
“Still… you’re not going to shoot your shot?”
The blush on Satoru’s cheeks seems a little redder.
His heart aches, because once upon a time, that look was for him. Little stolen moments in locker rooms or during movie nights. A ghost of a heart that was once his.
“I dunno, man. They’re a beta, and I think our bullshit from high school still has them kinda fucked up. Like, they probably think I’m only into omegas.”
Suguru snickers. “You gotta admit, it’s pretty fucking funny. You’ve crushed on everyone except omegas.”
“It’s not like that! You and them just happened to be an alpha and a beta!” Satoru’s words are impassioned – like they get when he’s tipsy, “I just – I just liked you. And now I just like them. Doesn’t matter what they are.”
Three years later, he finally has a confession. It’s a liked rather than like, but at least he’s got the words out of Satoru’s mouth.
You’ll get more than that, he knows. Satoru would move heaven and earth for you.
You’ll get a confession and more, a lot more than a few stolen kisses or heavy petting session here and there, as soon as Satoru’s finished being a huge pussy.
Suguru gets up, glancing at his friend slumped over the counter. Satoru is too busy groaning to see the wistful look on his face, but he does hear his parting words.
“Good luck, Satoru.”
-
You settle into his arms. Warm, fuzzy, sated. Satoru wraps his arms and legs around you like some kind of koala.
He nestles your head under his chin, pulling you tight against him so you can feel his purrs rumbling against you, light and soothing.
The air is full of contentment, the scent of an alpha pleased and purring, every breath warming you down to the bones – even if his body pressed against you does a good enough job of that.
“Mmm…” It’s hard to think, hard to form any words when all you want to do is relax into blissful slumber, “Satoru?”
Your answer is a squeeze, a moment of tightness that leaves you breathless, just for a little instant. No ability to move at all, and even less will to. You’d laugh, if you had the breath for it.
Instead, you hum, “You smell good.”
He purrs harder at that, happy pheromones, a compliment any alpha would be pleased with. Breathing deeply against you, like he wants to take you directly into his bloodstream.
And then, for a moment, he pauses.
“Oh… Hey,” Satoru asks lazily as he snuggles into you, “How did you know about the scarf and the sock?”
He’s going to remind you of how gross and needy he was while you’re all sticky and tired and stuck in bed with you? Typical Satoru.
“Mmmh.” It’s hard to talk, warm and cozy as you are, all nestled against him, “You reek. Probably because of your rut, too… could smell your cum a mile away.”
He hums in acceptance, and settles against you, ready to doze off.
For a moment, he’s silent, leaving the both of you to drift peacefully –
“EEEEHHH??”
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theemporium · 2 months ago
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[2.7k] two weeks have passed since your life completely crumbled before your eyes. but life goes on for you and charles. it just so happens life brings an unlikely friend swooping in to help too.
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It felt like an olive branch from the universe that Imola was cancelled.
Charles knew he should have been more upset about it, and to some extent he was. Racing was the first love of his life, it was the love he shared with his father and his brothers and his godfather. It was the love that took over his world, his dreams, his ambitions. It was the biggest constant in his life since the day he was born.
And racing in Italy was a kind of special that very few tracks could compete with. It was the heart of the Tifosi, of the fans who supported him for years and years. It was his home away from home, the country that held a part of his heart like Monaco did, along with Monza. 
But he couldn’t deny that a huge part of him was relieved that the race wouldn’t go ahead, that he wasn’t expected to go into the paddock with a smile on his face and be swarmed by fans and cameras and whatever else they would throw at Ferrari’s Golden Boy. 
He could just hide away in Monaco a bit longer. 
It was easy when he was with you, when he had someone who understood his suffering and pain in the same way. But it was also brutal. He didn’t like seeing you upset, seeing you cry or shut down. He didn’t like that he couldn’t take away your pain, and he guessed you most likely felt similarly to him.
Unfortunately for the both of you, there was very little you could do about the matter. The damage was done and now you both had to deal with the aftermath together. 
It had been over two weeks since Miami and he felt no better than he did then. On one hand, he was grateful that no one knew his pain beyond the people close to him. The world wasn’t preening or poking into his relationship, they had no idea. They were blissfully unaware like Charles wishes he was.
But on the other hand, it just made everything so much worse. Nobody knew he was suffering. No one knew he was just as broken as you were. No one knew why his smile didn’t seem as genuine when fans stopped him on the street, or why his eyes looked so red and dull, or why he hadn’t even touched his social media—not even to post about landing on the podium back in Miami. 
And the people around him who did know were understanding, but even his team were starting to lose their patience and Charles honestly couldn’t blame him.
“What’s this?” 
Charles lifted his head from the screen he had been blankly staring at for the last thirty minutes to see his mother enter the room, bags of groceries in each hand. He wordlessly took them from her, smiling a little when she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he began helping her put everything away. 
“Val’s plan,” Charles answered, his nose scrunched up in annoyance at your PR manager’s name. “She wants to make sure the whole thing doesn’t look badly on us, if we are seen together without—” 
“That’s ridiculous,” Pascale frowned. “She cannot expect you both to avoid each other, not during a time like this.” 
“They just want to protect us, maman,” Charles said with a heavy sigh, saying the same words he kept repeating to himself since he opened the email earlier. “The last thing she needs right now is for people to think she’s moved on from Pierre and using me and—”
“Oh, mon amour,” Pascale sighed as she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her son and squeezing tightly until his head dropped to her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be worrying about things like this, not right now. You should be together, leaning on each other, planning on how to cut off that putain’s—”
“Maman,” he chastised but his lips were twitching at the protectiveness in her voice. It was comforting, in a weird way. Not that he ever thought his mother would be on Pierre’s side, not for a single second. But he had known him for just as long as Charles had, it eased something that she was just as angry as he was (even if he couldn’t quite show it just yet). 
“They shouldn’t be sending your fifty page documents on how to hide your relationship,” Pascale insisted, lifting her chin. “Relationships are human occurrences that require human reactions. Not whatever is in that file.”
Charles smiled sadly. “They just want to protect us, just like you do.”
“I’m your mother, I know best,” Pascale said, but the slightly teasing tilt in her words broke whatever serious facade she was trying to hold onto. 
“Of course, maman,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
“And as your mother, I demand you stay for dinner,” Pascale said with a knowing look. “You’re getting thin.” 
“I am watching my weight—” But his mouth quickly snapped shut when his mother levelled him with a glare. “Fine, fine. I’ll stay.” 
“Good,” Pascale smiled, pleased with herself. “You both need a home cooked meal made with love. God knows she won’t be getting it from your cooking skills.”
Charles frowned. “Hey!”
“Like I said, mother knows best!” 
...
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You had initially found out from your doorman that Pierre had finally returned to your shared apartment in Monaco. 
Pablo was a kind and caring man, somewhere in his seventies and proud of the job he had in the apartment complex. He was sweet and talkative, always there to chat away with you on the days where you’d be returning to an empty home. He tended to look out for you, whether that was because he was genuinely a kind person or because your father had somewhat asked him to do so, but you always appreciated the man and the texts he would send you. 
He never used his phone often, and very rarely did he message you when you saw him almost daily. It was usually only reserved to message about a parcel or to relay a message to your boyfriends about the race. 
And you knew the man didn’t use social media. You knew he probably had no idea what happened between you, Charles and Pierre. But something about his message made you believe he caught on to something being wrong, that he seemed to realise something was different when you and Charles had yet to return home in the last few days despite being in the country, and Pierre showed up alone. 
The only issue was that despite knowing very well that Pierre was in the apartment and spending the last two weeks itching to finally see his face and give him a peace of your mind, you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of your car. 
You had arrived over forty minutes ago, determination and anger fuelling you after you left the meeting with your team. And yet, the second you pulled into the parking spot across from the apartment complex, the fight completely left you and you were left staring at your steering wheel with a mixed look of apprehension and uneasiness. 
It was stupid. So fucking stupid. 
Once upon a time, Pierre Gasly was one of the few people in the world that you felt safe around. He saw you for you, he was the one who made you feel comfortable and accepted and loved. He was someone you saw yourself spending the rest of your life with. 
And now, the mere idea of coming face to face with him made your skin scrawl and your stomach twist to the point you were surprised you hadn’t brought up your lunch. 
A part of you wished Charles was with you. The other part of you was glad he wasn’t here.
You were so lost in your own thoughts, in your spiral about what the fuck he was doing up there that he hadn’t even tried to contact either of you, that you didn’t notice the person approaching your car until he was knocking on your window. 
You jumped as you let out a scream, your hand placed over your pounding heart as you turned to find Max Verstappen smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he said through the window, looking genuinely embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“It’s fine,” you smiled awkwardly before nodding towards the passenger seat. “Here, just—” 
Max seemed to accept your offer, rounding the car and slipping into the passenger seat with a warm smile. His eyes focused on your face, seeming to contemplate what he was about to say but you opened your mouth before he could. 
“If I look shit, lie to me,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.
“You don’t look shit,” Max said, his voice blunt and honest like it always was. “You just looked…lost.” 
Your lips twitched. “Lost?”
“Lost,” he said with a nod. “Monaco isn’t that big so I hardly imagine you need directions but I thought I would offer some help.”
You smiled a little at his offer before nodding towards the building across the street. “That’s my apartment.” 
“Oh,” Max said.
“The apartment I share with Pierre, who is currently upstairs and who hasn’t spoken a single word to me or Charles since Miami,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
“Oh,” Max repeated, but it sounded more understanding now. 
“Yeah,” you said because you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say anything else. 
“Were you going to talk to him?” Max questioned, genuinely just curious. The ‘alone’ part went unsaid. 
“I don’t know,” you confessed, letting out a heavy sigh. “I just drove and I thought I would know by the time I got here but…here we are.” 
Max hummed, nodding. 
You leaned your head back against your seat, a voice in the back of your head telling you to keep your mouth shut, to stop dumping your problems onto the boy next to you but you couldn’t seem to stop once you started. 
“He just went completely off the grid for two weeks and didn’t say a word. And now he’s here and he’s probably going to stay there until the next race and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to do because that was meant to be our place. But I don’t want to stay there and neither does Charles and Val doesn’t want us to publicly look for new places because of the fucking scandals and—”
“You can move in with me.”
The car fell silent.
“What?” 
“I just mean,” Max cleared his throat, a light blush painted over his cheeks. “If you need a place to stay and keep a low profile. My apartment building is pretty good at keeping annoying journalists away and it gives you time to find a new place. I think I know better than most how busy your schedules are.” 
You swallowed back the emotions thick in the back of your throat. “You’d really do that?” 
“Yeah,” Max smiled softly. “That’s what friends are for?” 
“We are friends?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Ouch,” he replied but his lips were twitching upwards. “I’ve known you for, what? Ten? Fifteen years? Don’t tell me I’m just a glorified stranger to you.”
“No, I–” You huffed out a laugh. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You don’t owe us anything, let alone a place to stay. We could’ve stayed with my dad—”
“In Switzerland?” Max pointed out.
“Or Charles’ mother,” you said, pressing your lips to bite back your smile when Max gave you a knowing look. 
“It sucks to be cheated on,” he said, and you almost flinched at how bluntly he said it. How easily he said the words that you were still in denial over. “And I know how lonely it can be, even if there’s someone else. You’re both suffering and,” he paused as he shrugged. “I’ve known you both the longest in the paddock. I want to help. I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it.” 
“Thank you, Max,” you whispered softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “It won’t be long. Probably just a week or two so we can get our stuff in storage and find a place after the Monaco Grand Prix because it will be too hectic—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Max smiled, squeezing your hand back. “Like I said, that’s what friends are for.”
“Friends,” you repeated with a smile.
...
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...
“That’s very nice of Max.” 
“That’s all you have to say?” 
“Did you want me to say it wasn’t nice of him to offer you and Charles to move in?” 
“I expected something more than five words,” you retorted, already able to imagine the smile on your father’s face even if you couldn’t see it right now. “He has no reason to do this for us. I’m just surprised.” 
“He’s your friend, no?” 
“Apparently everyone got that memo except me,” you murmured, your brows furrowing in concentration as you continued to attempt squishing your shoes into one box. “I think I have said a total of fifty words to him.”
“Are you okay, though? Moving in with Max? Moving out of your apartment?” 
You let out a sigh, the concern in your father’s voice was comforting and sweet. But you were tired of hearing the same question from so many people in your life, mostly because you didn’t know what the answer was. 
No, you weren’t okay that your boyfriend cheated on you. No, you weren’t okay at the fact you now had to move out of the place you called home for the last year or so. No, you weren’t okay with the fact that everything felt so unsure and unstable in your life right now. No, you weren’t okay at the fact Charles was hurting just as much as you were but he seemed adamant to hide how he felt, to act strong in front of you like you didn’t hear him crying in the shower or when he thought you had fallen asleep.
No, you weren’t okay.
But that wasn’t the answer people wanted to hear. And it wasn’t the answer you wanted to give people. You didn’t want more people worrying over you anymore than they already were.
“I’m okay,” you said to your father, the lie leaving an acidic taste in your mouth. “Plus, Max has cats. You never let me get one when I was younger.”
Sebastian snorted. “You loved the fish I got you though.”
“Until the cleaner accidentally flushed Mr Bubbles down the toilet,” you reminded, your lips twitching at the boisterous laugh your father let out at the memory. “May he rest in peace.”
“I am sure he is alive and well in the ocean somewhere.”
You shook your head in amusement.
“I was thinking of flying out for the next race,” Sebastian said, so casually like you didn’t know the implications behind his words. Like you didn’t know he had probably conspired with Pascale to fly out as soon as he could. “I miss the track.”
“Mhm,” you hummed knowingly. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he said, simply and bluntly. “I want to see you. Both of you. And I do miss the track.”
“Shouldn’t have retired, old man,” you murmured, but something in your chest warmed at the thought of having your father nearby again. You left Switzerland so quickly after the pictures dropped, even when a part of you desired to stay in the farmhouse, far away from everyone and everything for the rest of your life. “The track misses you too.”
“You’re going to make me do a Fernando and come out of retirement.”
You snorted. “The people would be thanking me.”
“Hm, we will see.”
“Charles will be happy to see you too,” you told your father. “I think he needs you here as much as I do.”
“I’m there for you both, always.” 
“I know,” you smiled softly, even if he couldn’t see it. “I still need to finish up these last few boxes before the moving van comes. But I’ll call you later, okay?” 
“I love you, honigbiene.”
“I love you too, Papa.” 
You were thankful the apartment was completely empty the second the call disconnected, sobs leaving your mouth before you could even stop yourself. You weren’t okay. Far from it. And you weren’t sure you would ever be properly okay again.
But you were a Vettel and you would persevere, even if it killed you a little bit inside. 
...
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coucouatoi · 8 months ago
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don't want to be alone | h.s.
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Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader
Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.
Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending
A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!
Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text
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Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.
You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.
Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.
Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.
Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.
From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.
Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.
-
The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.
"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.
"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.
"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.
Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.
"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.
"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.
Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.
"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.
"And when was this?" she asks.
"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.
"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.
"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.
"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.
"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?
"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him
so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.
"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.
"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?
"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.
"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.
You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.
Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.
"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.
"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.
"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.
"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.
"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.
-
Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.
"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.
You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.
"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.
"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.
"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.
"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.
"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"
"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.
You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.
You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.
"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.
"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.
"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.
"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.
"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.
"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.
"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.
-
Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...
"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.
"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.
"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.
Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.
"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.
"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.
"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.
-
Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?
As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.
"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.
You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.
Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.
"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.
"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"
"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.
While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.
"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.
"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.
"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.
-
Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?
Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.
"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.
There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.
"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.
"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.
However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.
"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.
"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.
"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.
"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.
"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.
It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...
All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.
Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.
Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.
Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.
The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.
"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.
"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.
"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.
"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.
"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.
"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.
This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.
"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.
"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?
-
"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.
"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.
-
"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.
"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.
"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.
"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.
You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?
"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.
When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.
"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.
"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.
It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.
Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.
"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.
"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.
He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.
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