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Sometimes I really kind of envy you native English speakers who make writing and posting fics seem so fucking easy. With near perfect grammar and hardly any typos. Or those of you who are capable of writing & updating your fics whenever the muse hits you just right... and not like, once in six months. Actually, try two years lol.
Whereas me, a non-native speaker, who occasionally struggles even with basic English grammar:
I'm fine. Totally.
#personal#okay so i've been writing this one piece of fiction for a while now#actually two but i've seemed to put the other one on hold for a while at least#(i may have mentioned this already like five times during the past two weeks but my point is i'm still working on it)#many thanks to @ihni who recently gave me some words of encouragement <3 and ofc @catzy88 who gave me even more insp *saatananauru*#and i'm actually really kind of enjoying it because there's no pressure to write it and post it#i write it in small sections. whenever i feel like it. giving myself enough time to plan it and think about it. even getting new ideas#and for once i'm trying not to keep editing and fixing it as i go. i just write whatever crap comes to my mind and just let it flow#i try not to think about how many mistakes and typos i make because that way i'm never gonna get it finished#but at the same time... when it's finally time to go through it#fix typos. missing words. possibly poor grammar. i know i'm just gonna hate it so fucking much lmao#but i'm really trying my best here okay. and i'm trying not to rush it. for once#because i used to write like this as a teenager. when there was nowhere really to post your original stories (thank god for that)#so i did it in my notebooks. and i quite enjoyed it doing that way#and i'm not sure why i'm even rambling this because most of you are never gonna read it anyway lol. so who gives right#but it matters to me and i'm feeling good about writing again so here i am rambling about it. no matter if you care not. so cheers mateys <
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I know it makes sense cuz duh, twitter's in the name, but boysplanet-twitter really is the place where taste dies
#🧍yall cmon....#and theyre so Shady for WHAT. girlies will side eye an imaginary lad for supporting a Dozen while having one in their pfp‼️#makes me spite vote for their most hated contestants fr#'u guys r voting for x UNDESERVING guy when MY one should have UR vote he DESERVES IT' well fuck you lol im voting daeul again‼️‼️#'we HAVE to make this final lineup GOOD' we have to make it suck itd be funnier#lets all vote for the shit guys tje look on mnet's face will be priceless#then its my fault for even going to twitter but i didnt chose to see boy planet content there the alg just puts it under my eyes cyz#i made the mistake of joining ppl who were once bitching abt the girls who r so vocal about how chiu n my klorbo are alledged lookalikes#not theyre NAWT lmao‼️#coming in like 'i agree they dont look alike' setting myself up to seeing the WORST takes ever formulated later#anyway daeul sweep#also its very clear that despite whzt their self righteous words say in opposing themselves against the 'ur just voting for visual'#they r HELLA basing their standard on it too#cuz like im a junhyeoner but he did NOT do well on the K vs G stage lmao#'their stage was ok' it was NAWT n i can say in unbiased words cuz half the team there is my top9s fjdjsjsjsjdjdj#i was gritting my teeths bro 'haha its not. so. so bad haha' < with tears in my eyes#but theyre collectively good looking aint they 🤨 weird‼️#just like how they'll last five seconds hating on jay before calling him ugly lmao u guys are TRANSPARENT#they can hate on him all tbey want doesnt change that he's The vocalist of the season oh well
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the question is: how do i say very smoothly that i am too busy to to chop and stack 5 solid cubic metres of wood, when the reason i technically don't have time to do so, is writing fanfic.
#lily talks#my mum would probably get it#but i also absolute do not want to risk her asking about what i write#i'm not ready for that conversation lmao#(even if she'd probably be amused)#as a matter of fact#nobody i know irl knows that i write in my free time and i would very much like to keep it that way#<- i have made that mistake when i was like 12 and it took me over a decade to even dare to try writing again#and that happening once was enough thank you very much#other people go to the beach and roll around in the sand when on vacation#me? i am covered head to toe in sawdust every day#(i am so tired)
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Haunted me, haunting you
⁀➷ 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
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.
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.
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.
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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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ vii
part six - part eight
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life goes on and it's up to you to decide who stays and who goes.
➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ reader really growing and living her best life like she should. Spelling mistakes add character 😉 if you haven't been tagged, know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add you to my list, I'm not ignoring you, please send me a message if i did!
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y/nusername
📍 Nice, France
liked by landonorris, milliexoxo and 2548,543 others
y/nusername life. 🐠
tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo
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charlesgirlies can you tell zoë to stop growing so fast? 🥺
yukisan who's the other girl?
↳ bott_ass their nanny
yukisan since when?
bott_ass girl how should I know? 😭
norry4 cutest little kid on the block 😍
milliexoxo ❤️
mrsnorris once again lando hanging out with them..
↳ norrizz okay and?
mrsnorris what about Charles? How would your bf react if you hang out with anorhers guy all the time?
norrizz pretty sure they broke up
mrsnorris sure because you know them personally right?
norrizz no girl because in one if her vlogs she's moving, she now lives in Nice without Charles or is that something couples do nowadays??
chilisainz so what if her and lando hang out, they're good friends! You should follow y/n a bit more before you judge them..zoë adores lando and the other way around. They're good friends
hamilt44n can't wait for bahrain in two weeks, hope I get a chance to meet you!
yourmumsuser my beautiful grand baby 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️
landonorris we did in fact find nemo 🐠
↳ y/nusername and now we've lost dory :(
milliexoxo we'll have to go to the aquariums again to look for her!
norrislandooo stop it why is this so cute?! 😭
charliecharlie who's millie?
norrislandooo their nanny
charliecharlie why she look so young?
norrislandooo idk lmao y'all Charles girlies so obsessed with y/n and all the people she's hanging out with
milliexoxo I'm 19 that's probably why I look so young, thanks 🤩
norrislandooo oh god, she's one of us 😭
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📍 bahrain
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y/nusername week 1. 🇧🇭
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yourmumsuser my pretty pretty grandbaby ❤️❤️❤️
norry4 y/n back on the tracks LFGOOOO
julieeeexo zoë is such a cute little thing 🥺
milliexoxo my cute little gurlfriend is stealing the show 😍
↳ landonorris just like her mum
norrizz lando norris get out of here, stop trying to flirt with the milfs for gods sake 😂
manon_roux ma petite princesse me manque :( (missing my little monkey)
bott_ass can't wait to see you and jenson judge Danica on love tv 😍
↳ hamilt44n honestly can't wait for y/n to shut Danica up
charliecharlie I don't think jenson would've survived another season without y/n 💀
charles_leclerc ma jolie princesse ❤️ (my pretty princess)
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
📍 Saudi Arabia
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y/nusername week 2. 🇸🇦
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milliexoxo okaaaasy mom 😍
↳ y/nusername 😐
charlesgirlies millie >>>>> noelle
bott_ass millie >>>> manon
charlesgirlies millie is queen <3
milliexoxo stop it, the fame will get to my head 😇
hamilt44n is zoë always so happy? 😭
norrizz okay girl, I see the subtle hints 👀
↳ norry4 the nails 😭
charles16 they're orange not mclaren colors..
norry4 same thing to me 😭
charles16 y'all reaching too much, she's still with charles
norry4 it's alright bestie, I've been living in delulu land too, I'll help you through it
yukisan I love you mother, I hope you know that 🥰
landonorris amazing photographer, could you tag him?
↳ y/nusername @.lando.jpg
landonorris nice, great guy that is
landonorizz YOU'RE TELLING ME LANDO TOOK THAT SEXY ASS PICTURE?!
luhamilton I bet they make sex tapes 👀
landonorrizz only fans when??? 👀
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew
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how seventeen would confess to you - hhu vers.
-> pairing : svt hhu × gn!reader
-> words count : 2.9k words
-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff
-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.
CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - INTIMATE
cuddles, cuddles, cuddles !
once he tackled you on the couch or bed and you’re in his arms, you’re not getting up for at least an hour.
watching long shows together, and you’re forbidden from watching even one episode without him, or he’ll get so pouty.
big golden retriever energy, he’s always so smiley around you.
but also big on protecting you.
he’s the type to say “dress how you want, i can fight”, and he will definitely fight if needed.
always has an arm around you, making you feel safe in every situation
since both of you are friends since as far as you can remember, he’s like another member of your family.
i can literally picture your aunts asking you when you’re gonna marry him at every gathering lmao
with all of that, the line between friendly and romantic feelings is blurred, but cheol wished he had the courage to fully cross it.
however, everyone and their mothers knew about his big crush on you, and about yours on him.
his confession would be so domestic crying because i’m lonely.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to cross paths with Seungcheol late at night. Just like you, he often got thirsty and you always ended up staying in the kitchen until the early hours of morning, and being sleepy at the family gathering. And this time was not different. Well, it was, in fact, a bit different. You had been aboard for the past year and only got back to Korea a few weeks before, so both of you hadn’t really seen each other and you had a lot to catch up on about your lives.
“- And after that, this bitch didn’t even dare to look me in the eyes for the rest of the year ! Can you believe this ?
- I don’t like to judge people I don’t know, but she’s indeed a bitch.”
Both of you bursted out in laughter, and your heart felt warmer again. It was as if you were finally complete again. Being away from Seungcheol when he had been by your side for the majority of your life was the most difficult thing you ever had to do, and feeling him slip through your fingers as he started to respond less was horrible. He apologized so many times about how busy he was, and you knew it was not his fault, but still, you just wanted to be back home, back in his arms.
“- Yeah, she definitely is.”
You landed your head on his shoulder with a smile, and Seungcheol feared that you would hear how fast his heart was beating. He was happy for you when you announced to him that you had the opportunity to go aboard for your studies, and he was immensely proud of you. But at the same time, all he wanted to do was convince you to not go and keep you forever with him. But he was only your best friend, and he couldn’t ask you to give up on your dreams for him. But he wished he could be your boyfriend instead.
“- I have something to confess…”
You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him as you waited for his next words. Seungcheol eyes’ dived into yours, and he just knew. He knew that this was the right time, that the particular atmosphere surrounding the two of you would certainly never arise again. He had to do it now.
“- The day you left, I came to say goodbye at the airport, remember ?”
You nobbed. How could you not ? He had engulfed you in a big hug that made you want to stay, and left you with teary eyes as you got on your flight.
“- I never told you what I did after. I drove off to the park we always played at when we were kids, and I cried on the swings for maybe two hours because all I could think about was that you were not with me. And it felt so wrong.”
Your right hand found purchase on his cheek, forcing him to look down at you as he consciously avoided your eyes since he started to tell you his little story. But your soft smile was the only reassurance he needed.
“- It felt wrong being away from you too. I missed you so much Cheol…
- Me too…”
And just like that, you both leaned in at the same time, your lips meeting in between and suddenly, everything felt right again, as if it was where you were supposed to be - in each other arms.
“next time i’m squeezing myself in your luggage, i don’t want to spend another night without you in my arms.”
JEON WONWOO - SIMPLE
i don’t know how to explain it, but I’m sure you’ll get it when I say that this man is the definition of soft.
he’s so cozy, every one of his hugs feels like a warm cocoon (that’s why you always find an excuse to get a hug).
very good at giving advice, and a good listener, he’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on.
you were friends with the other members at first, but slowly, you started to grow closer when he discovered how sweet and lovely you were.
the more he talked with you, the more he found himself hooked.
literally has heart eyes for you (everyone and their mothers know about his crush on you) and would drop everything if you need him.
of course, he’ll be more than happy if you agreed to play video games with him, it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not
it’s even better if you never played, he’ll have an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he teaches you how to use the controller.
but in the end, he’s a simple guy, and he doesn’t see the point of hiding his crush for too long, but he also wants his confession to be meaningful.
The boys had organized a big party for your birthday this year, and surprisingly, they succeeded at keeping it a secret until tonight. And the past months spent trying to perfect every little detail was worth it when they saw the big smile on your face and your teary eyes when you recognized your friends and family as you walked through the room.
And even if Wonwoo couldn’t be more happy than seeing you wander around, laughing and smiling non-stop, he felt a weight on his heart. He wanted to steal you away from all these people, have you all for himself and finally tell you how he felt about you, finally tell you how glad he was to have you in his life. But he couldn’t, and he would never do that. He was just waiting patiently for your eyes to meet in the crowd, and for you to smile brightly at him. Every time you did that, his heart beat faster.
“- Finally ! I’m so happy that everyone came, but I’m exhausted !
- I can imagine, you’ve been running around the whole night.”
You sighed dramatically as you seated yourself on the couch next to Wonwoo, resting your head on his shoulder. Like a habit, he put his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, just because you were so comfortable around each other that everyone else thought you were already dating.
“- It’s the best surprise of my life. You guys are my favorites. Thank you for doing this for me.
- You deserved it, that and all the presents we prepared for you.”
You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with a sparkle of curiosity in your eyes.
“- And what’s yours Wonwoo ?”
He had planned to do it later, when everyone would have left, when he’ll have a moment alone with you. But if this wasn’t a sign that he had to do it now, he didn’t know what it was.
“- It’s not something material. It’s more… Spiritual I’ll say.
- It’s intriguing, tell me what it is.
- My heart. I’m offering you my heart, because you already have it, you did for a long time now, and I wanted to let you know, just in case you were feeling the same about me.”
Wonwoo knew how emotional you could get, but he didn’t expect you to cry from his confession. Still, he wiped your tears away, waiting for you to calm down with a soft smile on his face.
“- I feel the same, I’ve been feeling the same for so long. You have my heart too.”
“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’ll always protect you.”
KIM MINGYU - JOYFUL
100% golden retriever energy
you would often tease him along with the members (because we all know that seventeen ultimate goal is to make fun of mingyu)
partner privilege : would not get as pouty as with his members, all it takes is a smile from you and you’re forgiven.
however, when you tease him about how being so muscular but so afraid of everything is a shame, he’ll be like a child throwing a tantrum.
pouting until you compliment him (and cannot stop blushing once you do, he’s so cute someone help me).
tries to impress you all the time by flexing his muscles, showing how strong he is.
he’s so obvious please, this boy cannot hide his love for you.
follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, just in case you need him (he’s adorable).
he feels so comfortable around you because beyond all the teasing, you’re very understanding and kind.
you’re always here to remind him how amazing he is every time he doubts himself.
and because he feels so comfortable around you, his confession would slip like it was the most natural thing ever.
Mingyu always had a tendency to show off his skills whenever you were in the same room as him. Yes, he felt an incredible ego boost when you complimented him about his muscles, but what he took real pride in was how much he was able to make you laugh. He always feared that his jokes were lame, or just not your type of humor, but every time he cracked one, you bursted into giggles. And by the way you were beaming, there was no way that you were faking it.
And he always managed to make you laugh in all types of situations, chuckling and resisting the urge of kicking his feet like a teenager everytime you hitted his shoulder playfully as you tried to contain your own giggles. Mingyu was addicted to the way your eyes were glowing with joy everytime you just smiled. However, he discovered that the easiest way to get you to laugh was to tell you all the stupid things his members did. Like now, as you were crying from how funny you found the story of Seungkwan volley ball.
“- He really only discovered it when he saw that video ?
- Yeah, really ! You should’ve seen the betrayal in his eyes, it was priceless !”
And you were laughing again, your head thrown back, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. But Mingyu wasn’t laughing anymore, too lost in his contemplation, because you were literally a work of art to him. Every single detail about you was perfect, the more he discovered, the more he wanted to be yours.
“- Your smile is so beautiful, gosh… I love you so much…”
The melody of your giggles died as soon as you registered the meaning of his words. Silence enveloped the both of you as you stared at him as if you were trying to enter his mind and find all the answers to your questions. And Mingyu was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, and not embarrass himself further, already cursing himself in his head for being so careless.
“- Wha- What did you say ?”
Mingyu was too focused on his overthinking to notice the little grin spreading on your lips. Of course, you already knew that he had a crush on you. Of course, you had a crush on him too because who doesn’t ? And of course, it was very cute to watch him stumble over his words with red cheeks.
“- I-I said that you have a beautiful smile…
- And after that ?
- Don’t want to tell you.”
You giggled as you leaned in to peck his warm cheeks, restraining yourself from going in for his pouty lips too.
“- Well, just know that I love you so much too Gyu.”
“see, you heard it perfectly ! but i’ll tell you a hundred times if you want me to.”
CHWE HANSOL - BRIGHT
he’s so random, like one minute he could joke along with you and the other he’s asking you the most existential question possible, fully serious about it.
like we say vernon is just vernoning in the most vernon way possible.
he's very chill about pretty much everything so it's really soothing to be around him.
he's your go-to person when you want to isolate yourself from the rest of the world because you could spend evenings just watching tv and not saying a word to each other
there's also times where both of you end up talking about your lives until the early hours of the morning.
your relationship feels like it's all natural, there has never been an awkward state, only comfort.
it's like hansol had known you for years because he felt so at ease every time you were with him.
you made him feel like he was special and normal at the same time, and even if he doesn't show it often, he really appreciates it.
you two liked to stay inside so it was rare for you to go out somewhere, but it was always unexpected and when it happened.
hansol knew that you liked to be surprised, and often showed up on his days off to take you somewhere without telling you.
that's why you weren't shocked when he picked you up at 5 in the morning, on a random Sunday.
“- Can I at least choose the music ?
- Go on.”
Hansol handed you his phone which was connected to the speakers of his car, letting you put on whatever song you wanted. He owed you this with how early he forced you to get out of bed on one of your days off. But he really wanted to take you to this spot he loved. He played it off as one of his random wishes, but he planned this in his mind for a long time, not all the details, but he knew he wanted to bring you there to tell you how he felt.
He watched with a small smile on his lips as you opened the window, one of your favorite songs playing as you let the wind hit your face and make your hair fly all over your face. Hansol quickly focused on the road again, seeing that he was near your destination, he asked you to close your eyes.
“- Are we there ?
- Almost.”
The rest of the way was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. When you finally felt that Hansol had stopped the car, you heard him go out of the driver seat to get to your side and help you get out too, ordering you to keep your eyes closed. He pushed you to take some steps forward before he finally authorized you to see what was in front of you.
“- You took me to the ocean ?”
You didn’t even turn around to look at him, too entranced by the sight in front of you. And all Hansol could do was smile when he saw how parkly your eyes were.
“- I guess that I wanted you to see the sunset.”
You were rather speechless as Hansol got a blanket out of his car, leading you to the beach for you two to watch the sunrise on the horizon. He contemplated you as you ran around, touching the water to see if it was cold or not before finally sitting down beside him, your head finding his place on his shoulder, and his arms around yours.
“- Thank you for bringing me there… It’s beautiful…
- I wanted to make it special.”
Before you could even ask him what he was talking about, Hansol leaned in, his eyes fixed on your lips, and yours on his. Basking in the warm light of the sunset, he kissed you for the first time but certainly not the last, a smile spreading on his face as he rested his forehead against yours.
“i think i could get used to this.”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie
#kpop#seventeen#svt#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#svt reactions#seventeen reactions#seventeen fics#svt fics#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#scoups seungcheol#wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#mingyu#mingyu x reader#vernon#vernon x reader#hansol#hansol x reader#hip hop unit#seventeen hip hop unit
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this christmas – op81
ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?
genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)
pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri
other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes
warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think
word count: 13.8k (LMAO)
requested?: yes!!
author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3
second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...
third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)
and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3
hope you all enjoy !!
december 12th, 2:11pm
oscar has always loved winter.
it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.
he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.
so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.
when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.
him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.
"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."
"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.
"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."
oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.
"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.
"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."
the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"
oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"
"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"
"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.
unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.
lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.
december 13th, 12:53am
it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.
you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.
oscar.
your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.
he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"
he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.
your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."
and then, you were just two.
you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.
"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.
"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.
"a month has never felt this long before."
you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.
as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.
you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.
then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.
talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.
"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"
you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"
"yeah."
and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.
"hey, i just wanted to-"
he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.
you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.
oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.
you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.
december 13th, 10:24am
despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.
"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"
"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.
"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"
oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.
she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?
he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."
"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."
you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."
oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.
maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.
december 14th, 3:09pm
lando thinks he's so smart.
when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.
but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"
"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.
oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.
it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.
your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.
"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.
you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."
oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."
festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.
he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.
of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.
oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.
december 15th, 2:01am
sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.
who even decided to put him and you in the same room?
when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?
you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.
the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.
it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.
you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."
"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."
"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.
"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."
"well, everything is okay, so..."
there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.
just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-
but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.
you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.
thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.
as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.
oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"
you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.
he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."
you nod. "yeah, it does."
something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.
when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.
december 16th, 9:02pm
the mistletoe has moved.
when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.
you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.
some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.
no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.
his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.
what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.
lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"
"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"
he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"
with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."
he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.
"exactly."
lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.
and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.
december 17th, 1:43pm
"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.
oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."
you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.
you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.
when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.
"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"
"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."
"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."
he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."
"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."
you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.
"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."
you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.
your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.
"is this okay?"
you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."
when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-
"give me your other foot."
you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.
compose yourself, woman.
"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.
"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"
you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.
the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.
shit.
the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"
your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."
"oh, no skiing?"
"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.
"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.
"not at all..."
december 18th, 10:32am
you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.
"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.
you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."
"but oscar promised to come along?"
you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.
did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?
"w-what?"
"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."
"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."
you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.
the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.
"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.
"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"
"i don't believe it."
"you don't have to, but it's the truth."
"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."
"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."
you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.
"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."
he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."
"i'm a horrible baker, though."
"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"
oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.
december 18th, 8:14pm
oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.
he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.
as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.
you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.
"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"
kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."
"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.
"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."
oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."
you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"
you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.
you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.
"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.
"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.
"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.
you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.
you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.
and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.
wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.
"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.
"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"
just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.
lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."
lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.
it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.
december 19th, 9:22pm
the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.
in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.
funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.
one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.
you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-
just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"
you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"
he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"
"touché."
your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-
of course it is.
the mistletoe.
oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."
"indeed..."
you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.
"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."
you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.
but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?
oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."
"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."
the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.
the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.
he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.
oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.
kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.
you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.
december 23rd, 8:35am
the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.
the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.
now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.
you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.
you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"
you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."
his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."
and when he asks, you tell.
you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.
and then, he tells you his side.
he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.
you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.
december 23rd, 5:46pm
"how are things going with oscar?"
lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.
"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.
"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."
"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."
lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."
"and what does that mean?!"
"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."
"what kind of plan?"
"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."
as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.
"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.
lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."
you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"
"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."
"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."
lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"
you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."
she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."
you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.
suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.
december 24th, 10:23pm
just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?
for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.
there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.
in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."
"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.
"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.
you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.
the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."
speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."
"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."
you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"
he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."
you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."
"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."
december 25th, 6:04pm
christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.
your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".
then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.
and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.
it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.
you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.
"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."
he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."
he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."
"you suck."
he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"
"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.
oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.
neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.
considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.
"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.
instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.
it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.
you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?
but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?
december 25th, 11:28pm
charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.
"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.
the mistletoe.
"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."
his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."
you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.
he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-
"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."
he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.
"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"
"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"
"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."
"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"
"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"
oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.
he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.
he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.
"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.
he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.
"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"
"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."
"oh, is that so?"
"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."
"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"
"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.
"tricky, yes. but not impossible."
you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."
and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.
yet again, instant boner.
your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.
you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.
"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"
you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.
your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.
"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."
you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.
your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"
"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"
"as you wish."
as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"
he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"
"just you."
oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"
you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.
when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.
"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.
"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.
your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."
you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."
"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."
"the necklace is higher on my list, though."
oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."
you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"
"apologize. now."
his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"
he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.
but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.
december 26th, 12:56pm
packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.
you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.
but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.
oscar.
you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.
"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.
"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.
charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."
"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.
"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."
with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.
finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.
"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.
you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."
"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."
before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.
and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."
#oscar piastri#f1#formula one#formula 1#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x yn#f1 x y/n#f1 fanfic#mclaren#oscar piastri fic#Spotify
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some thought on us/reader/yn (i don’t know how to address it lol 😭) and seeing ex-boyfriend, who preferably myb cheated and now is dump struck how we got a new boyfriend/it’s been some time since last seeing ex)
um.....i'm assuming the bllk boys are the new boyfriend for this. hopefully, that's what you meant, but here you go anon:
kaiser absolutely thrives off this situation. this is the perfect chance to stroke his ego, so he's going to take full advantage of it. definitely notices your ex before you do and tugs you closer, arm wrapped around your waist, nose buried in your hair. obviously, you can't see his facial expression, but you can tell by the way he's smirking that he's definitely up to no good. when your ex finally realizes that your new boyfriend is THE michael kaiser, he's like... 😏 that's right bitch. keep ogling. y/n's doing so much better without you. even better if your ex is actually a fan of kaiser. his sadistic ass will not let that go. you want my autograph or something? oh wait...sorry i don't give out autographs to losers. deliberately sets out on a mission to make your ex's day an absolute hell, and he's smug about it too. once your ex is gone, he looks back and asks...so did i do good? no, you don't need to thank me. i'm already thanking myself. (he's so stupid....i love him.)
sae's reaction is encapsulated in one word. side-eye. he won't actually say anything, but the judgmental aura leeching off him is already enough to send your ex running in the opposite direction. i don't even think your interaction is going to last more than one minute because sae is just so intimidating. the entirety of japan already knows who he is, and compared to him, your ex is an absolute nobody. poor guy will probably never recover especially after seeing you and sae on the front of every tabloid, magazine, and news channel. his ego is broken, masculinity in ruins, reputation in tatters. and honestly.....serves him right.
rin holds an even stronger grudge than you do. he never lets any personal slight go without consequence. probably still holding every single mistake your ex has made in the past five years over his head. what did you even see in him? he's a lukewarm piece of shit. again....like sae, i don't think you would even need to say anything because rin's death glare already says enough.
shidou needs a restraining order because i don't think your ex is going to make it out alive. probably goes straight for the throat too. he genuinely enjoys seeing other people in pain whether physically or emotionally. will probably make out with you right in front of your ex just to fuck with his mind a little bit. hand placement is key. he places one hand behind your head and the other one grasps your ass. uses a lot of tongue. leaves you winded with starry eyes and swollen lips before he maniacally grins at your ex. he definitely enjoyed that a little too much.
barou has a quiet but menacing aura. he's very tall, so i think he would likely tower over your ex. and uh...have you seen his physique? he would probably cross his arms, and his biceps would bulge, and he would whisper in the lowest, most chilling tone: you got a fucking problem? and that's about all it takes because your ex may be a wimp but at least he has enough self-preservation to know you don't mess with someone like barou. probably kisses you on the forehead after that and his voice softens just tad...you okay, baby? (dfhkjsdhf i just blushed)
nagi wouldn't really care. nothing fazes him, especially not your ex because he's in the past now and that makes him irrelevant. but he definitely does not back down from subtly throwing some insults. oh...him? he's just y/n's ex. a weak guy not worth the hassle. don't bother. if your ex is stupid enough to actually confront him though....he's not going to hold back. shut up. you sure bark a lot for someone with no bite. pet store's two blocks away. maybe you should check out a new collar. lmao nagi can be painfully rude when he wants to be.
#asks#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x reader#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#shidou x reader#shidou ryusei#shidou ryuusei x reader#barou shouei#barou shoei x reader#bllk fluff#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#nagi x you#nagi x y/n#rin itoshi x y/n#rin itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#sae itoshi x you#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x y/n
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go to bed - bucky barnes x reader
Plot: Bucky Barnes is a pain in Y/N's ass...until she gets sick. Pairing: Hinted Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Reader being sick and exhausted, and Bucky being annoying. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is short (just under 550 words), and complete self gratification because I woke up yesterday full of the cold and I feel pretty crappy. So I need Bucky Barnes in my life rn, lmao.
Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
Bucky sits on his phone in the Avengers kitchen, mindlessly scrolling through social media. The room is quiet, just how he likes it. That is, however, until Y/N shuffles into the room, a blanket wrapped around her shivering form. She groans as she walks, every part of her body aching. The sooner this damn cold goes away, the better.
“Woah, you look like shit.” Bucky says, looking up at her from his phone, his blue eyes narrowing. Y/N rolls her eyes. This is the last thing she needs right now - Bucky’s annoying ass making her feel worse. She doesn't know what she did to make Bucky tease her so much, but she definitely isn’t sticking around to find out, or listen to his teasing.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No.” Bucky places his phone in his pocket, walking over to her. He studies her, her croaky voice, her runny nose, the clear lack of sleep, and her pyjamas and slippers. “I mean it. You really look like shit. Are you sick?” “No, I just decided to dress like a-a-achoo!” Y/N sneezes, answering Bucky’s question right away.
“Go to bed.” He orders.
“You’re not the boss of me.” Y/N murmurs. She pours herself a glass of water, sipping it in the hopes it alleviates the pain in her throat. “I have stuff to do, anyway.”
“I’m not asking you. You look exhausted, you need sleep.” He replies, and before Y/N argues back again, she notices a look of genuine concern in his eyes. For once, he’s not being a tough guy… he actually cares about her. And despite how much of a pain in her ass Bucky Barnes is… Y/N is glad to have someone looking out for her right now. “Come on.” Bucky prompts, wrapping an arm around her and leading her towards her bedroom. Whether it’s to protect her or simply hold her aching body up, she isn’t sure. But she does know that being so close to Bucky and feeling the warmth radiating off his body is making her feel a lot better already. “Go back to bed. I’ll tell you what you miss in the meetings.”
“Probably won't be much. Just Tony showing off.” She jokes, and Bucky laughs, a sound which makes her stomach flutter, and her legs turn into jelly. And this time, she’s sure it’s not because she’s sick. It’s because Bucky caring for her, and her being important to him feels…wonderful.
Bucky leads her to her room, helping her into bed and wrapping a blanket around her. “Do you need some more water? Tea? I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He offers, and Y/N chuckles, shaking her head.
“No, I think I’m okay.” She yawns. “I might try to get some sleep.” Bucky smiles, nodding. He turns, heading back to her door. “Bucky, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asks. “I thought you didn’t like me.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.
“Of course I like you.” He whispers, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I’m just an asshole.”
“You are.” She murmurs, her exhaustion catching up to her. Bucky chuckles, looking down at her as she starts to drift off. Once she's asleep, Bucky gazes down at her, smiling softly.
“I like you a lot, actually.” He whispers. “More than you’ll ever know.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fic#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#marvel oneshot#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#bucky oneshot#oneshot#fanfiction#fanfic#fic
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Hungry man
° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader
word count: 935 words
summary: During the first heat spent together, Enji finally gets a taste of your slick. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)
warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, fingering (fem receiving from herself and m), praises and thigh riding! (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)
author's notes: I need to get this out there before it consumes my whole being, folks. This is basically the origin of pussywhipped!enji lmao. The idea wouldn't leave my mind ever since I revisited this fic by @nyxronomicon (great great great writer by the way, i devour all of their fics so check it out <3). Actually, that fic could be the continuity of this one if you don't think too hard. Anywayz, I'm rambling I know most of you just want the unhinged thoughts sooo hope you enjoy !!! <3 Again, any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it but blergh boring)
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─
The first time Enji had gotten a taste of your sweet ambrosia, it had been an accident. It happened during your first heat spent together. You were being such a sweet bunny now that he thinks about it, playing with yourself so he could rest after the rigorous day spent together for the first time.
However, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers were no match to his thicker ones, you were twisting and flicking your wrist in vain, trying to find the right rhythm. Growing frustrated, whines turned higher pitched, trying all sorts of positions to ease the tight knot in your tummy.
With all the noises leaving your mouth, it was inevitable for the flame hero to slowly arouse from slumber. Eyelids still heavy with sleep, he rubbed his eyes while sitting up against the headboard to pull you onto his lap, but Enji didn’t account for his pretty bunny to be so pent up that she just straddled his thigh and started riding it.
Now, Enji was a strong man and his stamina had to be good to be Japan’s number one hero, but he was only a simple man at the end of it. So, when this simple man saw his good bunny desperate to rub her clit on his strong thigh, he couldn’t do anything but watch. Well watch and flex the muscle under her.
“Fuck, baby, look at you being such a good bunny.” His dick was probably crying from all the action it had gotten, but fuck, it was still trying its best when the flame hero heard his bunny’s whines. “My pretty baby was trying to let me rest, huh love? Don’t worry about that next time. It’s all yours, my legs, -” He flexed his thigh once more for good measure. A whimper escaping your mouth at his words and at the added pressure, making the friction on your bundle of nerves so much better. “my fingers an-” He quickly shut his mouth when you grabbed his right hand and directed it near your lower puffy lips while continuing to ride him.
“Enji, fuck Jiji, please please can I have your fingers. Please, they’re so much bigger and fuck- I- I just want them in me, baby.”
Did Enji die and wake up in paradise? Here you were, your slick covering his upper leg, your mouth in a pretty pout, your pupils taking over your irises, lust painted all over your face, and you were begging for him to finger you. You were so good, waiting for his approval, for his ‘yes’ even if he could see tremors taking hold of your body from the frustration dancing in your bones.
In awe of his luck, the number one hero just nodded in response to your pleas. His fingers pressed on your puffy lips when you stopped directing him. Of course, you were just waiting for him to finally easy the knot in your stomach, but your Jiji seemed to be in a lust haze thinking you were waiting for his fingers to be less dry. It didn’t matter that your slick was plenty enough already. Enji couldn’t feel, see nor think clearly.
So, as Japan’s best hero, he executed the best course of action, sucking his fingers. You, on the other hand, were on the verge of tears, when you felt his fingers leave your wet cunt. Your frustration didn’t get the chance to be voiced out when you heard Enji’s groan.
He couldn’t believe it. As his fingertips grazed his tastebuds, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t had a taste beforehand. Your slick was coating his fingers, coating his tongue, mixing in with his saliva, dripping down his throat. He audibly groaned at the taste of yourself. He had to get more, he needed to have more. He licked every last drop of your juices before parting ways with his slick covered fingers.
“Fuck, think you can give me more of that, bunny?” You just nodded your head at him, excited to have his fingers back to yourself now. “Yes, yes, yes, just- please please just make the pain go away, Jiji.” Your lover cooed at you as two of his thick fingers thrust in one stroke in your pussy, making you cry out from the relief. His bunny was chanting Thank you’s, love and lust dancing around every letter, syllable escaping your throat.
He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on your ambrosia once more, but first he had to make you feel better. Had to see just how well you took him whether it be his cock, his fingers and fuck his tongue soon.
It didn’t take much from the hero to make you cum, you were already on the edge of an orgasm, on the cusp of it from all your attempts earlier, you riding his thigh, and now his fingers. Finally, you felt the knot in your stomach untangling itself, coming loose. Incoherent words and noises graced Enji’s ears as he worked you through your orgasm. His eyes glancing from your face to the arousal leaking out of your lips to his fingers.
The both of you knew that it wouldn’t take long before the pain would come back in your stomach, but before you could voice out anything, the number one spoke up. His eyes sparkling at the idea of drinking directly from you.
“Fuck, bunny, think you can give me another one?”
Suffice to say that that night, Enji Todoroki learnt a new skill, because who would you be to pass up that kind of service from your beloved? <3
#enji todoroki#enji todoroki fanfiction#enji todoroki smut#enji todoroki x reader#endeavor x reader#endeavour x reader#cinnamon original#also this is the same bunny!reader as before guys#it's midnight and you will not believe how hard it was this one to come alive#but it's here now so yippi e#okay im rambling good NIGHT
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cowboy like me — coriolanus snow
summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 2k
tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything
notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao
i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.
masterlists | read on ao3
A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.
He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.
Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.
You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.
Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.
In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.
But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.
Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.
And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?
Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.
You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.
Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?
No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.
He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.
Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.
It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.
If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.
It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...
Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.
He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?
The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.
"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"
He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away.
"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?
In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.
The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.
When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do?
A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.
You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.
After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?
But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive.
With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.
The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.
He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.
There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.
He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes
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corrupted
a/n: I asked for requests and y'all came THROUGH. Freaks - all of you!! (same) hope you enjoy this fucking ovulation-fueled fever dream lmao. @quicax3 - I am dedicating everything I post today to you- Happy birthday! 🩷hope ya'll enjoy (not even a little beta'd or proofread lol all mistakes are mine)
Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, hand stuff, rough / marathon sex, homeboy paints the boobies- Marcus gets dosed with something and is * d e s p e r a t e *(a little graphic / I guess this could be hurt / comfort?), master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any! 🩷
Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader
word count: 2.6k (😅)
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist series masterlist
You frowned to see her darkening his doorstep once more from your place just inside the giant doorway.
“Announce my arrival to Marcus if you would, I have brought him a gift.” She smiles her prettiest smile at you, moving to walk past you but you hold fast, blocking her path.
“Apologies my lady, the Dominus is absent. I do not know when he will return and I am not to allow visitors in his absence.” Part of you felt a twinge of guilt at the way her face fell, but the memory of her proposal, and her apparent attempts to change his mind twisted something in your gut. She clutched at the wine bottle in her hands, cradling it as her eyes scanned what she could see of the house behind you.
“Do you know when he left.” She frowns, eyes focusing on you once more.
“He has been gone since first light, and as I said before, I am unsure of when he will return. He did not say when he left.” You were telling her mostly the truth, he had left early in the day, but you knew he’d be back before nightfall. He’d told you.
“I could just wait, I doubt he’ll mind–” She flashed her winning smile, thinking it would work on you as it had worked on everyone throughout her years but she had no notion of your ire for her.
“Apologies my lady, I cannot permit you inside, it will be my head.” It would never come to that, you knew it but he would not be pleased.
“Oh come now.” She huffed just outside the door, crossing her arms and for a moment you saw a spoiled child on the verge of a tantrum. One of his guards heard the commotion and came over to assist.
“Apologies my lady, but you will have to return another time, when the Dominus is here to greet you.” He was large, and her demeanor changed instantly.
“I have brought him a gift, he will be happy to see me I swear it–” She held the bottle out to the guard and he took it, looking over what seemed to be a dark red wine.
“I will make sure Dominus receives your gift.” He closed the door in her face despite the widening of her eyes at having been left outside, giftless, and unwelcome. She knocked again, but the guard only put the bottle in your hands, and sent you off with a nod. You went about your business and left him to it.
Your Dominus was true to his word. The sun had just kissed the horizon when he walked through the door. His brow was furrowed in frustration and you rushed to greet him, hoping his business hadn’t gone awry. His eyes found yours and they softened, but only a touch.
“Shall I prepare your meal Dominus? Or would you care to rest first?” You followed as he made his way towards his study, his stride quick enough to make you hurry after him.
“I’ll take my meal in my study, fetch me clean water and linens to cleanse before I eat–and the red wine if you would.” He sat at his desk, putting down scrolls he’d brought with him. His talk of wine reminded you of his visitor.
“Oh–I just recalled. You had a visitor while you were away today, Dominus.” You brought the empty basin from the corner and set it up at the little table beside his desk for the water you’d have to fetch. His eyes shot up, his attention solely focused on you. “I obeyed your commands, no one came in–it was Lavinia.”
His eyebrow raised, and a small, half-smile formed on his lips. The scrolls sat on the desk, forgotten as he leaned back a little in his chair, amused now at the way your chin jut out in uncharacteristic defiance.
“Was it now? And just what did Lavinia want?” He narrowed his eyes, his smile widened a fraction.
“I think I can divine what she wanted.” You mumble the words under your breath, picking at your nails and he clears his throat, a gentle warning. “Apologies Dominus, I said, I think I can divine what she wanted. I do not think she took your refusal with good grace. She brought you a gift, in hopes to sway you if I had to hazard a guess.”
“Well, seems she would like me to reconsider.” He crossed his arms, watching your face and it’s hard to keep it free of emotion. “Bring me her gift, I would like to see it.” He gestured to the door with a playful smile and although your belly twisted at the thought of her working her charms on him from afar, you knew in your heart of hearts he simply liked to frustrate you.
The temptation to smash the bottle into pieces was almost too big to ignore. The thought of him being displeased however kept your grip on it tight, kept you obedient as you did everything he’d asked of you. With his hands cleansed, with his food served, you put the bottle onto his desk.
“So this is what she offers.” He took the bottle in his hand, turning it over with more interest than you would have liked. He opened it, and put it under his nose. You watched him, fighting tooth and nail to keep your expression neutral. He only smiled the harder, reveling in your poorly disguised discomfort.
“It smells like good wine, but fortified with something.” He poured some into a goblet, swirling it with growing interest.
“Shall I leave you to enjoy your meal, Dominus?” You kept your head held high, reminding yourself that he had refused her after all, and a cup of wine wasn’t going to change anything.
“No. I would have you here.” He smiled, bringing the cup to his mouth and draining it in a few gulps.
It was almost instant, the change in him.
“Dominus?” You approached him, heart sinking at the way his eyes momentarily lost focus, at the way his face went slack, all of him utterly empty for a moment. A wild fear gripped your heart, surely she wouldn’t poison him? “Dominus? Dominus!” You almost scream, pushing between him and the desk to pull his face up.
“Hmmm?” For a moment he couldn’t focus, and it looked as though he might faint into a feverish sleep but then his eyes found yours and he smiled, truly smiled.
“Dominus—“ he moved cat-quick, pulling you into his embrace roughly.
“Gods above, why do you smell so good?” He pressed his nose to your chest, pulling in greedy sniffs of you while his hands slipped under your tunic.
“Dominus, are you well? What is happening?” You tried to get him to look at you, but his eyes were focused on his hands, on pulling at the seams of your tunic. You can’t help but let out a little scream when he rips it open.
“I am going to die if you don’t sit on my cock this instant, Girl, I need it, I need to feel you, I need to take you—fill you with my seed.” He moans out the words, more desperate than you’ve ever seen him and for a moment you give in, his face tilted up to beckon your mouth to his.
There is a strange taste in his mouth, something honeyed and full of an almost seductive smoke.
You pull away despite his iron grip on your waist.
“Dominus, Dominus wait—” You try to look into his eyes again but it’s like he’s not there. Something in you awakens, and you do something you’ve never even considered, you do something that could cost you your life. You strike him clean across the face.
The crack of it is loud enough, and hard enough to stop him cold.
“Dominus—I beg your forgiveness but I need you to listen to my words—I think Lavinia has slipped you some sort of love potion, some magic to seduce you—“ your hands shake as you speak to him, praying to all the Gods that you aren’t punished for trying to help him.
“Girl…” he speaks slowly, his face splotchy and red and an ache builds in your throat, fear threatening you with tears. “Girl, I think you may be right.” He trembles slightly, his skin warm where you still touch him. You can see the effort on his face to keep himself under control, to keep his wits about him as the potion works through his body.
He stands, swaying slightly and takes the bottle to the door while you watch, clutching at your ripped tunic. He hands it to one of his guards and instructs him to dispose of it, to not let anyone have any of it because it is corrupted.
“Shall I get you something else?”
“I need your body, Girl.” He holds onto the wall for a moment to steady himself, his eyes cast downwards. “I need to bury myself inside you, I am sick with it, I feel as though if I don’t I will surely die.” His eyes are red when they find yours and there is a fire there you have only ever seen after a battle.
“If you do not desire this, then leave and lock yourself in your chambers. I will make do with my fist.” He takes a steadying breath, waiting with an almost divine patience despite his state.
The anger you feel for Lavinia knows no bounds, that she would resort to something like this to force him to give her his body makes your blood boil. The way in which he devours you however, that makes your cunt clench and drip for him.
“I am yours, Dominus.” You let the tunic fall and beckon to him with open arms. You see his prowess in the moment it takes him to cross the room and all but dig his fingers into you. His mouth is insistent, his hands are rough at your waist and on your breasts, his passion is hard as steel at your hip where it digs into your skin, all of his sharp desire, his sharp edges scraping at your softness with an inhuman strength.
“I am in pain Girl, every fucking inch of me aches—“ his words are a painful moan as he all but tears at his layers. You help as best you can and once he is bare you gasp. His cock is so red, his balls look so swollen, you think he really might burst if he does not find his release.
There is no time for gentle touch.
You turn and bend over his desk uncaring of his papers falling to the floor and present your backside to him. It’s with trembling hands that he slots his cock at your entrance. He enters you with one brutal shove of his hips and moans like you’ve never heard him moan before. Despite your own arousal, you wince.
“Forgive me Girl, I cannot be gentle-“ He does not ease you into it, it is a rough pushing and pulling of himself into your sex and he is too thick, too deep, you feel him in your lungs, in your throat.
“I do not wish to hurt you, but you feel so fucking good, so tight, so wet I cannot stop myself.” His words help, his true nature helps. You focus on the feel of him, on the reassuring grip of his big hands on your hips, on the noises he makes as his groin hits the plump of your ass with every sharp thrust.
Your cunt leaks around him, coating him, raising the volume on the sounds of your coupling and before long he’s pulled you up, his chin resting over your shoulder while one hand holds onto your breast tight enough to almost hurt.
“Here it comes—“ he barely gives a warning before he groans long and loud, filling your poor little cunt with his gift. He presses his forehead to the back of your neck, taking greedy pulls of air into his lungs while he keeps himself buried deep.
You catch your breath for a moment before he pulls out and turns you to face him. His eyes are shut tight, and then he looks down. His cock has not softened, it looks just as angry, just as hard as it did before, his balls still heavy and full of seed.
“I fear I may be like this for a while, the pain returns even as I stand here.”
You sit him in his chair and climb onto him, sheathing him inside you once more but this time, with his mess and your arousal easing his passage, and you setting the pace things are better.
“I will take care of you Dominus, let me take the pain away.” You wrap your arms around him and slip your tongue into his mouth with a deep kiss, relishing the noise he feeds directly into your lungs. His arms are a cage around your ribs, tight enough to make you fight for every breath but it matters not. He feels so good like this, so deep and with every roll of your hips his noises become more frantic, more imploring.
He comes again almost without warning as you keep your rhythm, wincing when he tightens his grip a little more but still, he does not soften.
He lets out a whine, a pathetic, gorgeous thing when you keep rolling your hips, clenching around him in search of your own climax.
“Please Girl, please please, I beg of you, milk my cock, I need to spill inside you again, over and over, please—“ his voice is not his own, it’s some needy, powerless creature under your spell and you want nothing more than to oblige him. You speed up despite the sweat shining on your shin, despite the ache in your body and again he spills, crying out like a teenage boy touching a woman for the first time.
“Again Dominus?” You’re tired, but it feels so good, and the desperate, slack jawed expression makes you ache for your own climax.
“Yes Girl, Gods yes- again—“ he helps you move, your sweat slicked flesh spilling between his fingers, his lap is a mess of his own seed and your arousal, you cannot stop now. He takes your nipple into his mouth just as his thumb slips into the mess between your thighs and swirls it around your clit.
Your own climax hits you like a slap across the face- all at once making you seize and he comes again at the feel of it, both of you suspended in exquisite agony.
You are truly sore now, every muscle aches, everything burns.
“Dominus- I don’t think my body can handle more.” You brush back his hair, placing a small kiss where you slapped him.
“It is a little better now, come to my bed with me.”
Hours pass, and he still stands at attention but he relieves himself with his fist as you lay on his bed. He begs for your hand, and you oblige him. He begs to look at your cunt, and you show him, he begs to let him paint your breasts in his seed, and you position yourself for him, until he finally softens and rests.
You cleanse him, and yourself, and fall into his arms, asleep before you’re fully settled.
He does not leave his chambers the next day, and orders you to take a full day of rest yourself. While grateful to sleep and give your tired body time to recover, part of you fears he might not want to see you, but then one of the older women brings a feast to your chambers at his instruction, good wine and more food than you could eat in a whole day and you know you are forgiven.
You smile around your bites of food, content with your thoughts of what he might do in retaliation.
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#general marcus acacius#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius fanfiction#gladiator 2#gladiator ii
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hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!
i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂
got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c
paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k
The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.
But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.
It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.
This was supposed to be fun?
“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”
Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.
This was definitely a mistake.
So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.
Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”
You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.
Rafe Cameron.
Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.
Until now.
Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.
“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”
You blinked at him. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”
Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”
Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.
“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”
“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”
You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.
“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”
“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.
“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.
You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”
He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.
You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”
“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”
You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”
You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“So, what’s that book about?”
You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”
“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”
“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”
“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.
“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”
You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”
He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”
Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.
But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.
What the hell had just happened?
Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.
You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.
It was Rafe.
“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.
You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”
Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”
Did he just give you a nickname?
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”
“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”
“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”
“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”
You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”
“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”
And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.
“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.
But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”
The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.
You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.
“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.
“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.
You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.
He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.
The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.
“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.
You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”
“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”
“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.
You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.
“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.
“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”
Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”
But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit.
“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”
You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy.
Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
“Mr. Cameron.”
The entire class fell silent.
You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”
A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”
Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.
The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”
Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”
Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.
“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.
You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”
“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”
“Rafe, I swear—”
“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?
You hated every second of it.
“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”
“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”
“Stop staring.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”
Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”
He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”
Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.
As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.
Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.
You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.
“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.
“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.
“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.
“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.
“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”
You gawked at him. “What?”
But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”
Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.
You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle.
Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.
“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.
Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.
“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”
“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.
“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”
Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.
“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.
But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”
“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”
You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”
“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”
“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.
“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”
“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”
“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”
“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”
He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”
“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.
Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”
Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?
“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”
“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"
“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”
“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”
Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.
“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”
Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”
“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”
You stared at him, “I—yes?”
“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”
“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”
“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”
And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.
“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”
The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.
Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.
You learned that the hard way two days later.
It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—
You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.
He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.
“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.
“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.
“Since when do you study in the library?”
“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”
“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”
“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”
Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”
What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.
“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”
You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.
“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”
Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”
“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.
“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”
Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.
“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”
Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”
“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”
You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”
“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”
“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”
What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?
Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.
“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”
Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”
The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”
“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”
You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”
But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.
“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”
“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”
“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”
“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”
You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”
After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.
So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.
“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.
“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.
“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”
“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.
“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”
You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”
You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.
You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.
Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.
You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.
Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”
“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”
He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”
“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”
But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.
You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.
“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.
“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”
“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”
Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”
No. No, no, no.
That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.
“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”
Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.
“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.
His eyes narrowed, “No?”
“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”
Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.
“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”
You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.
“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”
Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”
Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”
“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.
Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”
“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.
Rafe frowned. “Do what?”
“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”
Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.
“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”
You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”
Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”
You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”
You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.
“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”
“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”
Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”
“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”
You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.
Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.
“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”
“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”
“You think I’m lying?
You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”
He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?"
"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.
It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.
Always.
Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"
You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."
He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."
You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance.
"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?"
You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.
"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."
You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.
"Why me?"
"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.
You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."
Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."
You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.
You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."
He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.
"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."
And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.
And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.
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Hear Me Out
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….
A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.
Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch
W/C: 3,788
"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."
Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.
"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."
Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.
"Why's Y/N here?"
Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.
——
It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.
"You know her?"
Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"
"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."
"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.
"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."
Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.
"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.
He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.
"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.
"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."
"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.
You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.
You understood him just fine...
Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.
"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.
"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.
"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."
The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.
"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.
The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.
"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.
"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."
"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.
"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."
The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.
"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.
"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.
"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."
You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.
"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.
"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."
Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.
He knew that he would be seeing her soon...
—
"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.
You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.
"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."
Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.
"Auntie Nat!"
Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.
Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.
Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.
Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.
Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.
Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.
Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."
"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."
"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."
Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.
"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.
"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.
Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."
Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.
Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.
It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.
Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.
Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.
You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"
Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.
You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.
Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.
Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.
What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.
Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.
Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.
When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.
Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.
She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.
You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.
Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.
Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.
This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.
Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.
Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.
Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.
After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."
"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.
The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."
"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"
Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"
Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."
"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.
Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.
"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."
Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.
The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.
Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.
Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.
The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands.
"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"
"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."
"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.
“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”
“You understood but still did that?”
You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”
“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.
"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."
"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.
"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."
With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."
"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."
"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."
"Hey...."
"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.
"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.
"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.
Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.
Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.
"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.
"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."
——
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff oneshot#natasha romanoff fic#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x fem reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader#in the queue
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(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2
summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!
That's what he was taught in middle school, right?
pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool
word count: 1.3k
warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)
a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨
Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao
Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!
If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️
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Read this fic HERE on AO3
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PART ONE | PART TWO
The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?
Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.
But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?
Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.
Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.
Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.
Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.
A boy can dream.
It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.
And smile. And lips. And–
It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.
Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.
But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.
Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.
Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!
That's what he was taught in middle school, right?
With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'
Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy.
Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.
Oh God did he say that out loud?
"Wade?"
Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick.
"Wade."
Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth.
Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.
Wade swears he's blushing.
Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.
Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.
"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.
"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.
"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.
"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."
Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"
"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."
Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.
"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"
Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom.
"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it.
Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.
Good thing he's ambidextrous.
#jen writes#my writing#jen-with-a-pen#deadpool x wolverine#wolverine x deadpool#wade wilson x logan howlett#logan howlett x wade wilson#wade x logan#logan x wade#wolverine#deadpool#deadpool fanfiction#deadpool fanfic#deadpool fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fanfic#wolverine fic#poolverine#deadclaws#deadpool pov#worst wolverine#wade wilson fanfic#logan howlett fanfic#wade wilson#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine
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I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺
okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!
Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.
A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much
Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.
Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long
The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend
Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.
Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting
butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs
this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much
ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!
To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.
Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me
#batman fic rec#fic rec#batfam fic rec#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batlantern#fic: jason and the three terrors#fic: life happens#fic: collision of masks#fic: the time before#jason todd fic rec#dick grayson fic rec#damian wayne fic rec
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