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cxsmicbaby · 1 year

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something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you.

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.”

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer.

“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears.

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy.

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow.

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily.

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure.

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel.

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it.

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely.

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?”

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me.

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go.

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school.

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me.

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place.

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.”

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform.

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.”

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them.

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.”

I smile. “You know I am.”

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks.

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules.

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it.

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically.

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person.

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.”

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!”

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?”

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason.

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it.

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.”

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby.

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing.

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same.

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me.

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now.

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me.

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.”

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall.

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing.

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head.

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.”

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real.

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.”

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!”

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head.

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?”

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you.

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does.

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it.

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away.

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.”

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown.

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never.

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it.

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.”

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave.

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave.

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself.

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed.

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time.

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for.

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected.

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination.

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him.

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it.

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.”

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be.

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy.

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry.

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place.

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you.

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him.

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him.

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice.

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing.

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you.

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away.

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough.

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him.

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan.

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself.

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower.

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are.

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still.

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO

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nouearth · 1 year

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london fog.

pairing ; clark kent x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 1094. genre; fluff. rating ; pg. warnings ; awkward interactions incoming, male reader is embarrassing, clark is nervous and likes hot drinks on a hot summer day, didn't proof-read, sorry! my toes actually curled at how cringy reader was being, i'm so sorry.

“london fog for clark?” your voice is at ease and your motions even more so as you topped the hot latte with milk foam, capping the drink with a lid after. a smile that rivaled the sunny day has been brewing on your face since you took the familiar customer’s order and thankfully, things moved at a leisurely pace today, meaning you had a few more seconds than usual to spare with him.

“how come you still called my name even though there’s no one here?” his name is clark, often comes in before work or during lunch. but these days, he’s been doing both, which you couldn’t complain about. the man’s presence makes the opening shift worth it, even if you could only speak to him for a few seconds.

as usual, he’s in his work attire, sans the blazer that you often see him wearing in the morning, and he still looks at you with that friendly smile of his, black hair whipped back with tiny strands falling downwards as his hair wax has obviously loosened over the day. clark’s presence never failed to prepare you for the long day ahead or comfort you after an intense hour of appeasing patronizing customers. adding in his ability to look effortlessly handsome every day, his generosity in tipping, and his amiable personality, it didn’t take too long for clark to become your favorite customer.

“i just like saying your name! clark! i’ve never met anyone named clark before.” you pass the cup to him as you maintained eye contact. a gentle brush of his fingertips almost breaks your gaze, but you catch yourself, only breaking to fetch and occupy his hand with a bagged sandwich. “on the house.”

“oh- hey, i can’t! let me pay for this.” you confirm to yourself that pretty privilege was indeed real and you can’t believe you fell victim to it, but… it isn’t so bad when the culprit is a genuinely kind person.

after taking a sip, clark clumsily sets everything down on the counter to fumble for his wallet. the sound of pennies and quarters falling onto the marbled floor echoes and you could evidently see clark’s cheeks grow redder the more coins fall, but you stop him before he could empty his wallet out even further. he stares back at you wide-eyed and you couldn’t help but laugh at how cute he looks when he’s embarrassed, especially since he’s bigger and taller, a physique that you often associated with a bodyguard or some sort of superhero, and you don’t think those types of people tend to be flustered much… do they?

“it’s fine. we’re working on a new recipe, so consider yourself… a test rat!” you gather the fallen coins that managed to land on the counter into your palm before handing it back to him. a slight waste of time, only because clark slots them, along with a couple dollar bills, into the tip jar immediately after.

“well… uh… i’m happy to test anything if it means seeing more of you.” was he flirting? or was that a joke? maybe it was nothing?! your inexperience condemns you to overanalyzing his words, his tone, his body language, everything, and you’d figure you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight with these questions running rampant.

“oh- definitely! you won’t be disappointed, clark.” you’re flustered and that reflects in your voice. a voice that was once at ease not even a minute ago quickly becomes staggered. you stammer like a school boy confessing to his crush, and you could feel your eyes shutting for a moment in embarrassment when you realize how nervous you sound. “they work me like a dog so- i’m always here, hah!”

you snort in midst of the awkward laugh that you and clark both share and you want to hide in a hole somewhere. maybe not too deep since you still want to be alive and breathing to see clark again, but somewhere far, far, far away from this painful interaction.

a painful interaction that makes you all the more endearing, clarks thinks to himself.

“i-uh. yeah, well hopefully not too hard to the point where you faint at work or something.” clark adds onto the topic and god, you wish you could change subjects right now.

“haha, yeah! maybe i’ll signal for superman or something!” you don’t know why but you find yourself naturally stepping back as if there was a spotlight awaiting your tony-winning performance.

“help, help! superman! i’m gonna faint! catch me!”

and the recipient of the most embarrassing interaction goes to…

you’re red in the face, hot in the neck, clammy in the hands, and even clark’s wholesome laughter couldn’t save you from embarrassment. you force yourself to think he’s laughing with you (and he is), not at you, and that calms you down, just a tiny bit.

“great drinks and service, and now a show. i gotta come visit more often.” clark occupies his hands once again with his drink and sandwich, nodding you off. “thank you- again. i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yea-“ the sound of a bell cuts you off and you look over to the source—another customer. “y-yes! tomorrow.”

clark’s voice is faint when he bids you goodbye, but you were already off to the other side of the cafe, tending to the customer, and eventually too focused to notice his exit when a line of customers quickly forms.

you work quickly within the next few minutes, knocking the orders down in an impressive personal record, and a huge weight lifts off your shoulders when you call out the last order of the line, until that bell chimes in again.

three more hours to go. you sighed, tired on your feet as you walk your way towards the ordering counter, greeting the customer.

“hello! welcome to-“

“i’m sorry, i lied. not tomorrow.”

you slow your approach, taking a moment to register what the familiar man was saying. “wha- clark? what do you mean?” usually you’d smile when you see him—clark—but he seems conflicted, disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual friendly demeanor, and so you could only muster a soft half-smile out of worry.

“can i see you tonight?”

clark stands tall, but not confident as he waits for your answer, nervously shifting his weight onto on his toes and heel, hands dug into his pockets.

“i-uh. yeah. i get off at five-“

“five…” clark ponders for a quick moment before nodding, gracing you with that comforting smile of his. you're at ease again, if you ignore the incredibly annoying swell in your chest.

“i’ll see you at five.”

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 11 months

Text

A spontaneous one because this pic is so cute!

Harry had been waiting patiently for a moment alone to be able to share with James his plan to propose to you while you were on vacation. He needed James’s help with making sure your parents arrived safely and had a prime view of the proposal. He had worked so hard to make it special for you and tomorrow was the day.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” James asked Harry. Harry immediately broke out into a smile and let out a slightly bashful but nervous laugh.

“I’m gonna ask her to marry me tomorrow. Y/N.” He said and James immediately sat up at the news. His eyes were wide in surprised but he was so excited for Harry and for you. “Don’t react!” Harry warned as he chuckled slightly, “She knows I was gonna do it after tour was over since I’m gonna have some downtime and we can start making plans before things pick up again. But ummm, yeah I’m doing it tomorrow night and I need your help with a couple things.” Harry said quietly as his eyes drifted up to you as soon as he heard you laughing.

You were everything he had ever wanted in a partner. Smart, open, kind hearted, gorgeous inside and out…he was so fucking lucky and he didn’t want another day to go by without him showing you just how committed he actually was.

Harry knew he could come off a bit aloof at times. And you had been together for ages without really having a conversation about where things might be going and you had never pressured him for a deeper commitment knowing that he struggled with that. It was odd though because genuinely, he was the type to always have a significant other around, he’d break up and move on really fast because he didn’t like being alone which he knew wasn’t healthy. But after meeting you and getting to know you, he didn’t want to have to lose you and try to bounce back from you because he knew it would be impossible.

“How’d you know?” James asked and Harry’s lips quirked up as he glanced back down to his friend.

“It was over the holidays and we were all celebrating at mine and ummm, on New Year’s Eve I overheard someone asking her about us and if we were taking the next step anytime soon. She had honestly said that she didn’t know if I even wanted to get married, because in all fairness, we hadn’t even discussed that yet. But that she loved me completely and was so lucky to have me love her back and that she wanted to stay with me as long as I’d have her, she didn’t need an engagement or marriage to know I loved her. And like when I heard that I felt weird, like I was always the one who felt like I was just lucky to be with her, you know? But hearing that she felt the exact same way about me just helped me understand how much I really loved her, you know?” He said and James nodded with a smile.

“So then I did let some time pass just to think about it. And like we didn’t properly talk about it until my birthday. We had a little thing for me and ummm, I had just been mulling on it for so long and was so scared to tell her that I wanted to marry her. But when I did she got so happy, she lit up in a way I’ve never seen and like…not gonna lie, I got a bit emotional. I don’t know, like I’ve never felt good enough to some extent & I know that it can be hard with me and it takes a toll on people to just be with me. But after everything. To see her so excited over the prospect of getting to make a life with me… it just confirmed to me how much she loves me and how much I love her.”

“That’s great, H. I’m really happy you’re making that decision.” James said trying to keep in his excitement but he wanted to get up and dance and shout it to the world because Harry, of all people deserved this.

“Thanks, man.” He smiled timidly.

“Are you nervous?”

“I don’t think I should be nervous when I know she’ll say yes, but yeah. Just a bit.” He confirmed, “I haven’t really planned what to say. I just want it to come to me in that moment.” He confessed.

“Well that’s always the right way to go because even if you prepared something you kind of just blank when you’re in front of them.” James said and Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, I can imagine.” He smiled and then looked back up to you as you chatted animatedly with his friends about who knows what. But it didn’t matter, you glowed like the sun. You were everything to him and just as you had said before, he didn’t need anything else to know that your love was the realest thing. He felt it every single day and even when you couldn’t be together, he felt it. “I just can’t wait to do everything else with her. Like I always felt a bit unsure when I thought of the rest of my life, but it definitely seems less scary when I think of her doing it with me.” He hummed.

“And that’s all you need, mate.” James said with a bright smile and Harry nodded. He had never been more sure about anything in his life and he would do everything he could to make you his wife.

#harry styles #Harry styles fluffy Drabble #0nlythrowharrybeaux #writing #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles writing

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ahonice · 1 year

Text

it doesn't matter

jamie drysdale x fem reader (ft. trevor zegras)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: drinking, sexual themes and mentions of sex, cursing, jamie being a fake swiftie (dw that is taken care of), reader has a guilty conscious, fluff (some angst i think), happy ending (those are rare on this blog), not proofread because i accidentally queued this so it posted on its own oops

note: i rewrote this about three times over the past two months, hope you guys are pleased with the final outcome. any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. hope you guys enjoy. have a great day, love y’all babes <3 !!!

+++

“hey you’re single right?” your head shot up at the sound of trevor, one of your closest friends, voice. you had known trevor since you moved to anaheim for college, on your first day in town he accidentally took your coffee from the pickup area at starbuck and you chased him down because you would be damned if you spent ten dollars on an iced coffee that you wouldn’t of been able to drink. it would’ve been a lie if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, he was so funny and kind and not to mention the fact that he is genuinely gorgeous, but you never acted on anything because you were worried he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and the fact that the two of you have had one too many drunken, and a couple sober, hookups didn’t help either.

“of course i am, or else what we did last night would’ve been morally wrong, why?” your heart rate picked up, thoughts running a mile a minute. was he about to ask you out? did he actually like you back the way you dreamed he did? was our relationship finally gonna be something more than friends who fuck at times?

“i wanna set you up with my roommate, jamie. i think you guys would like each other.”

+++

it was a crushing blow, not only did trevor just inadvertently just tell you your feelings are one sided, but that they are so one sided that he thinks his roommate would be a better match for you than himself. you felt sick to your stomach, this was in no way a heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.

“earth to y/n.” trevor’s voice shook you from your trance, you had completely forgotten he was there. “you good? you haven’t said a word in like five minutes.”

“yeah i’m fine, um who is this guy? i don’t think i’ve heard you talk about a jamie before.” you wanted this to be a joke, for trevor to say he was kidding, maybe jamie wasn’t real and he just wanted to see if i was open to a relationship right now.

“well he’s on the ducks as well, seems like your type. brunette with blue eyes, he’s got nice eyebrows too, just a couple weeks older than you, i know you don’t like extremely tall guys so him being 5’11 is perfect.” the more trevor went on about jamie the more you realized that jamie was in fact a real person and did seem like my exact type. “he has freckles too, i know you love those on guys and he looks good in the color green, he checks off all your boxes y/n.” you hated that he did.

“can i see a picture before i agree to anything?” you didn’t want trevor to get suspicious when you said no, so you wanted to seem like you were at least considering it.

“absolutely.” looking over at trevor’s phone you let out a small sound of surprise.

he was gorgeous

“trevor why have you never told me about him before?” you said, grabbing his phone to go through all of his instagram posts. “he is literally beautiful!”

“i honestly didn’t even think about it, but jamie saw you at our party last week and asked about you and i knew i had to make you two happen.” trevor said, taking his phone back. “come over tonight. we’re having a party before the season starts, you’ll be able to meet jamie.”

+++

it didn’t take you very long to get ready, your hair and makeup having already been done from your errands earlier in the day, but you did struggle picking out an outfit as every twenty year old girl would. you didn’t quite know who it was that you were dressing up for, in previous months it was always trevor. you were always hoping that he would see you and you would end up staying with him until the morning. while that was usually the case, the second part of your fantasy never came true. the part where trevor realizes he has feelings for you that go further than seeing you as a good fuck. but now there was jamie, you hadn’t even met him yet and you were still wanting to impress him. maybe trevor would see you with jamie and it would make him realize his feelings for you. but jamie seemed nice, once trevor left you looked him up and watched a few too many tiktoks and interviews involving him, he seemed like the polar opposite of trevor and that might just be what you need, it also doesn’t hurt that he was just about one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life, trevor was not lying when he said that jamie was your exact type. settling on a simple pink top and black jeans you made your way towards the uber trevor had ordered for you, palms sweaty and legs slightly shaking as you confirmed where you were headed before you saw your apartment complex disappear in the distance.

+++

“y/n thank god you’re here, i was starting to think you were pussying out.” trevor loudly yelled as he approached you, great he was already at least three drinks in. “catch up” he said once he was standing in front of you, handing you a beer.

“i don’t drink this crap, you know this.” you said, shaking your head as trevor silently continued to push the can in your face.

“fine, i bought you some caymans. they’re in the garage fridge, but don’t take too long, jamie is excited to meet you.” you ignored the way his eyebrows wiggled as you began walking towards the garage.

once you were in there you grabbed two drinks, just so you wouldn’t have to come back out for at least half an hour, as well as a shooter. you needed the liquid confidence that would come from the tiny bottle of pink whitney.

once you made your way back into the party you walked around looking for trevor, stopping a couple of times to greet those you knew, before you found him sitting with the man of the hour.

“y/n! come here, meet jamie.” trevor waved you over, you took a generous sip of the alcohol in your hand before making your way over, sitting down on the couch. trevor in the middle of us, as he began rambling to no one in particular about something you didn’t quite know, your ears tuning him out as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears took over all your senses.

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” trevor asked you, gently poking the exposed part of your waist.

“no.” the laugh you heard after that made a bush creep up your neck, jamie’s laugh was just as beautiful as he was.

“rude, anyways y/n this is jamie. jamie, this is y/n.” he motioned the two of you towards each other as he talked, jamie reached in front of him to offer you his hand. “now get to know one another, i’m gonna go play pong.” trevor stood up before you could protest him leaving you alone with jamie.

you expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. conversation was flowing between the two of you like you had known each other for years, you talked about the basics, what tv shows you enjoyed, favorite movies, taste in music, which then led to a thirty minute discussion about taylor swift and how jamie claimed he was a swiftie but couldn’t name any songs that weren’t played on the radio

“i have a lot to teach you i guess.” you were definitely making it obvious that you were interested in him, but you didn’t care. you’d usually be so shy around a guy so cute, but something about jamie made you calm, that was the simplest way to put it.

“i would love that.” the blush on his face matched yours. you smiled at him, contemplating whether or not you wanted to ask the question you had been wanting the answer to all night.

“so why have i never seen you around or met you before? i’ve known trevor for almost two years now, and i’m over here quite a lot.”

“i usually just stay in my room all day, especially during parties, i’m not the biggest fan of them.”

“then why are you out here right now and not bunkered up in your room?”

“i wanted to meet you, to get to know you.” jamie answered, scratching the back of his head and giving you a sheepish smile. “i came downstairs last weekend to grab something from the kitchen and that's when i saw you, i really lucked out that you are friends with trevor or else i probably never would’ve been able to find out who you were.”

you nodded at his response, informing him that you were glad you were friends with trevor too.

“speaking of him, i was hoping to see him again before i left.” you told jamie, standing up from your spot on the couch noticing his slightly upset expression. “let me give you my number, i would love to see you again, maybe begin my lessons on taylor swift to you.”

“i would love that.”

+++

after exchanging contact information with jamie you made your way outside towards the pong tables, hoping that trevor would still be out there.

“hey trevor, i was just about to leave, wanted to say goodbye.” you said approaching him in the dimly lit yard.

“you’re leaving already? i didn’t even get any time with you.” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder his arms loosely around your waist.

“sorry trev, but i got to know jamie. don’t let this get to your head, but i think you might be a pretty good wingman.” you joked, your arms around his neck gently running your hands through the ends of his hair. it wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be so affectionate, so this felt normal.

“good, i’m glad.” his tone didn’t sound like his statement, but you could easily chalk that up to the alcohol in his system finally wearing him down.

“why don’t i help you get into bed? basically everyone has left already.” you suggested, forcing his head up to meet yours at your eye level.

he smirked before responding. “i like where this was going.”

“nothing like that buddy, besides you just set me up with your best friend that wouldn’t be a good idea, don’t you think?”

“that's not fair, you can’t do that.” he mumbled, his head dropping back down into the crook of your neck. “you can’t say you're taking me to bed, and then not take me to bed the way i want you to take me to bed."

you rolled your eyes at his comment and began dragging him back inside and up towards his room. once you wrestled him out of his jeans, giving up on putting pants on him because of his multiple attempts to lure you into bed, you got him to lay down and made sure he was comfortable before you headed downstairs to get some water and pain killers for him to take once he woke up in the morning.

“goodnight trevor.”

you made your way outside onto the front lawn while you waited for your uber to arrive. you usually would’ve taken trevor up on his offer to spend the night with him, but something about even just thinking about doing that was now making you feel guilty. it wasn’t like you and jamie were in a committed relationship or anything, but he seemed to genuinely like you and was actually interested in getting to know you and you didn’t want to do anything to sabotage that.

+++

from: unknown number

can we meet up today for coffee or lunch? i would love to start becoming a real swiftie.

to: unknown number

am i right in assuming this is jamie??

from: unknown number

yes 🙃

to: jamie🤭

i would love to meet up.

to: jamie🤭

could we get lunch? i am literally starving because of my hangover.

from: jamie🤭

absolutely. send me your address, i’ll come pick you up.

+++

you were in full panic mode, you had no idea what to wear and the fact that it was visibly obvious that you were hungover didn’t help at all. you told jamie to give you at least thirty minutes, after he told you that an hour was too long.

you took the fastest shower you ever have in your life before tackling the biggest issue, your outfit. you went through every drawer, bin, and your closet before you decided on biker shorts and a crewneck. you could only hope that jamie wasn’t planning on taking you somewhere with a dress code.

makeup was applied and your hair was pulled into a claw clip before jamie texted you that he was outside, you did some final touches before you made your way out of your apartment complex. you lucked out seeing that jamie was in a comfy outfit just like you were. once you were buckled up jamie handed you his phone and told you to pick the music before driving off.

+++

“so what is your all time favorite taylor swift song?” jamie asked once he joined you in the booth you found for the two of you, he had taken you to in and out claiming he was craving a burger, and you didn’t complain because you would never pass up the opportunity to fuck up some animal fries.

“i don’t have just one, i think it is humanly impossible to have just one.” you told him, taking a sip of your lemonade before continuing. “i do, however, have a list of my top sixteen songs by her in no particular order.”

“sixteen songs? that’s insane.”

“she has over two hundred songs, you’ve got a lot of listening to do.”

“well why don’t you give me your list of songs, the only ones i really care about are the ones you like.” you blushed at his words, before stating all of your favorite songs by her. his only responses were “i don’t know that one, never heard of it, i know that one, wait no i don’t”

once you were done and jamie confirmed all the songs were now added to his spotify you two began eating as you gave him a run down of her career.

“so who is your favorite and least favorite ex of hers?”

“i hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day because i have a lot to say on this.”

+++

“do you want to get dessert? there is a nice ice cream place a few minutes from here.” jamie asked while you two were walking around huntington beach. you didn’t even realize how long the two of you had been hanging out until he asked if you wanted to get dinner, and now three hours after that when he is now asking to get dessert.

“yea i would love to.” he smiled down at you and you made the move to hold his hand. “sorry, i hope this is ok, i just wanted to hold your hand.” you blushed, turning your head away from him.

“it’s ok, i wanted to as well.” he blushed as well before he began leading the way towards the ice cream shop.

+++

“i had a lot of fun today, i was honestly a little nervous that with both of us sober it would be a little awkward, but it wasn’t and i would like to see you again. soon. sorry if that is a bit forward.” you told jamie as he pulled up in front of your apartment.

“i’d like to see you soon too, like tomorrow soon. are you busy tomorrow? we could get dinner, a nice place this time, not that in and out and qdoba aren’t nice it’s just-”

“yea i would love to, just send me the restaurants info before so i can figure out what to wear.”

“you’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear y/n.” you blushed at jamie’s comment before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. you were quick to get out of the car, yelling a goodbye as you ran into the front doors of your building.

+++

“finally you’re back. where the hell were you? i’ve been here for hours.”

“how the hell did you get into my apartment trevor?” you asked the boy who was sprawled out across your couch eating your food. “stop eating my wheat thins asshole.”

“i found your spare key, i mean hiding it on the top of the door frame is just a horrible idea y/n.” trevor said as he went back into your kitchen, hopefully to put your snacks away.

“what are you doing her trev?” you asked, taking your shoes off before making your way into the living room.

“where were you? you’re never out late, and i got here at like two and it’s now eleven. did you pick up a shift?” trevor was quick to join you on the couch, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the two of you.

“no, i was actually with jamie, he picked me up at noon to get lunch and then we spent the whole day together.” you blushed remembering how much fun you had today and how it was the first time in a while that you had enjoyed a date that much.

“oh, i didn’t realize that you two were getting along that well.” trevor said, reaching towards the table to grab the remote. “what the hell did you two talk about for nearly twelve hours? jamie cannot be that interesting of a guy.”

“we started off talking about taylor swift and how he is a fake swiftie, just like you are.” trevor cut you off with a gasp and hit you with the pillow he was using. “and then we talked about our childhoods, stories from school and growing up where we did.” you smiled at nothing, just reflecting on this one story jamie had told you about his worst halloween costume, which you then one upped with your own horrible halloween story. “thanks for pushing me to meet him trevor, i know it’s only been a day but i feel an actual connection with him and i can’t remember the last time i felt that with a guy.”

+++

you and jamie had been going on dates multiple times a week for the past month now and tonight the team had the night off and jamie was taking you to his favorite restaurant for date night. you weren’t dating, yet, but both you and jamie have spoken about it as something you both want. it’s just up to when the timing is right.

“where is he taking you out tonight?” trevor asked you as he joined you in your bedroom. you called him over to help you pick out an outfit for tonight.

“cortina’s” it wasn’t a black tie restaurant, but it wasn’t a jeans and a tshirt restaurant either. “i was thinking my black leather pants and then a nice top, maybe my pink top with the mesh sleeves?” you were met with silence from your best friend, “hello? earth to trevor.”

“sorry what?” you rolled your eyes before entering the bathroom, changing into the outfit you had in mind. “what do you think?”

“i think that jamie isn’t coming to pick you up for another two hours and that gives us plenty of time to have some fun.” trevor said, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you open mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck down to your shoulder, you let yourself revel in the feeling before you snapped back into your senses.

“trevor stop.” you pushed his arms off of you as you distanced yourself from him. “trevor you can’t do that, we can’t do this anymore.”

“why not y/n? you and jamie aren’t dating, there is nothing wrong with it. it’s been a month and i’m getting frustrated.” he groaned, flopping down onto your bed.

“that is not my issue trev, don’t blame me. i can guarantee that there are at least one hundred girls in your dm’s right now who would be willing to hook up with you, go bother one of them.” you snapped back at him, not in the mood.

“i don’t want some random girl, i want you y/n. aren’t you in the mood even a little bit, it’s been a month for you too.” you avoided his eyes as you made your way to your vanity to begin your makeup. “wait have you been fucking jamie? what the fuck y/n?”

“trevor you have no right to be upset, we are nothing. you were the one who set us up. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“no this isn’t what i wanted, i should’ve just made jamie make a move on his own. if that was the case you would still have no idea who the hell he was because jamie is too much of a little-”

“get out.” you cut trevor off before he could say anything worse. “trevor get out and don’t talk to me until you manage to get your head out of your ass.”

+++

“is everything okay? you seem a bit off.” jamie asked, he was right. after your argument with trevor you had been a bit out of it, the guilt of what you had done with trevor in the past was eating away at you. “could we talk about it later? i don’t want to ruin dinner.” your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“yes of course, but i’m gonna be honest i’m a little worried now.” jamie said, playing with the napkin on his lap.

“i am too, don't worry.” your attempt at a joke didn’t help, but thankfully the waiter came to take our orders.

+++

dinner was terrible.

you two tried your hardest to have everything be normal and how things had been in the past month, but both of you were worried about what you had to say. jamie was scared you were gonna break things off with him, he was already nervous for tonight because he was going to ask to make things official between you two, and now he was even more on edge. while you were worried that after you told him about you and trevor’s past that he would no longer want anything to do with you and would break things off before they even got fully started.

“so can you tell me what is going on?” jamie asked once you two had exited the restaurant and were sitting in his car.

“i want you to know that this started before i even knew you existed and it stopped the moment i met you.” you took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “trevor and i had been hooking up, for nearly the whole time we were friends, but i swear to you the second i met you i cut it off. i’m really sorry for not telling you sooner, it’s just that i really, really, like you and i didn’t want anything to jeopardize that, even though keeping it a secret probably wasn’t the best alternative.” you looked out the window, avoiding his gaze, afraid of how badly he was judging you right now. “i understand if you don’t want to continue this anymore, you can just drop me off right here and i’ll uber home.”

“y/n. i don’t care.” you finally peeled your eyes away from the reflection of the cars in the side view mirror to see jamie looking at you with a smile. “your previous relationships are none of my business, yes it is a bit uncomfortable that he is my roommate and one of my closest friends, as well as one of yours, but i really, really, like you too so that doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled back at him, a few tears building up in your waterline. “i was actually going to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend, and i still want to. so y/n would you make me the happiest man alive and officially become my girlfriend?”

“yes jamie, i would be honored.” you leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek, to not distract him from the road. “it sounds like you proposed jamie.” you laughed. “are things going to be weird around trevor for you?” you hated the idea of being the cause of their falling out, or to have any team problems sprout from this.

“yes.” jamie replied bluntly. “and i’m definitely not the biggest fan of you two hanging out without me there, at least for a little bit, but it’ll all work out. i won’t let it get to me or my game, but the second he makes a comment about you it’s over.”

you giggled before replying with a short “got it.” and placed your hand over his.

“and don’t worry, i never plan on going anywhere without you drysdale. you’re gonna have to start coming to girls' nights too.”

+++

note: i actually rewrote this three times and each time the plot was different, the last version was so much juicer and had so much drama (trevor realized he was in love with reader, but he was too late dun dun DUNNNN) but i cut that out because i couldn’t get the wording right. anyways i hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback (any and all is appreciated), have a great day, i love y’all babes <3 !!!

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #anaheim ducks #nhl imagine #ahonice writes

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 6 months

Note

what would megumi’s life have been if he was actually raised by the zenin from day one? like either gojo lost the custody battle or they were able to scoop him up before gojo ever reached them. i doubt they would want to keep tsumiki with them so she’s not there for little baby megs.

i think it would be really cool to see a zenin raised megumi interacting with his fellow classmates when he attends the school, not to mention the contrast between him and gojo. like on paper they both should have gotten the same treatment-being pampered and spoiled rotten but we also know that the zenin think that hurting little kids makes them stronger so it would be super interesting to see megumi realise that the stuff that happened to him wasn’t normal and for gojo to have a guilt trip bc he wasn’t able to help megumi when he needed someone to help him the most.

So I have a fanfic that I’ve half written (no idea if I’ll ever finish it—I’d love to, it’s just hard to find the time) about EXACTLY THAT that I talked about in this post for an ask game.

That being said, that entire thing happens from Tsumiki’s perspective, and I agree with you—I don’t think the Zenin would have ever actually taken her too. They don’t want her. She’s not Zenin. She’s not a sorcerer. They only bought Megumi. For the most part, Megumi is absent from that post, and you asked about Megumi. So this is what I think would happen on Megumi's side of that post I linked.

It comes down to two things:

1. He is never, ever happy with the Zenin.

2. He never lets go of his sister.

Megumi’s old enough to remember Tsumiki when the Zenin take him away. He's old enough to love her. And I think that Megumi loves very quietly, but he also loves very violently. He wouldn't let his sister hold his hand on the walk to school, but he would sacrifice himself for her future.

I think the Zenin took him from his sister, and I think he kicked and screamed and wasn't strong enough. I think they thought he would forget her eventually.

And then I think he bit most of the Zenin Clan.

At the end of the day, what Megumi wanted was the one thing the Zenin were not willing to give him. They were never like the Gojo clan, they were never going to pamper him, but there are a great many things in this world that they would give the Ten Shadows finally returned to them. But they would not give him a non-sorcerer, non-Zenin sister who would only be a weakness to him. They refused to let him have any contact with his sister, and that was the source of a lot of what soured.

Any Megumi that was taken in by the Zenin would have been taken in to Naobito's household directly. He would be announced as the one who finally inherited their most cherished technique, and he would be declared heir, and the Zenin would call him beloved for it.

They would keep him in a room that was large and empty and almost always dark, and he wouldn't be allowed to decide when he slept or woke, and the door would always be locked from the outside. They would give him a wardrobe of expensive clothes that he hated, and he would never get to pick which of them he wore.

Megumi would hate them. He would hate all of them.

He's just not the type to be comfortable with or enjoy the adoration of others--especially when it's not backed up by genuine love. Megumi is someone who very much values sincerity and depth to emotion--it's one of the reasons why he seems to respect Yuuji so much. Yuuji is a good person who follows through with what he says. He's not just going to talk about wanting to save people--he's there making the sacrifices as he does it.

The Zenin do not actually love him. And he knows it. He's experienced love before, and this isn't it.

They love the idea of him. The fantasy of him that lives in their heads. He has no interest in being their little god prince to contend with the Gojo's own. He knows who he is, and it's not this. He wants to go home. He wants to find his sister again. He doesn't want to do this anymore.

And I think that's a feeling Megumi never escape: he just didn't want to do this anymore.

Megumi would feel like a bug pinned beneath glass in the Zenin compound. He would constantly have people managing him--when he ate, what he ate, what he wore, when he slept, when he woke, when he trained, what he did. Having to become a jujutsu sorcerer signified an inherent loss of control, but it's nothing compared to the sheer objectification that he goes through when the Zenin have exclusive control over him.

He has no power of what clothes he wears. How his hair is styled. His schedule, his diet, the people he speaks too--he's suffocating and the Zenin are just increasing pressure on him.

I don't think Gojo ever thought that would be Megumi's life.

We’re gonna just have this imagining exist in the same world as the Tsumiki centric fic described in the linked post, and in that, the reason why Gojo never took him in was because he didn’t know Megumi had a sister. He showed up, saw the divine dogs, realized Megumi had the Ten Shadows, and decided he couldn’t do this. He was a mess. He was grieving Suguru and Haibara. Megumi looked just like the man who killed Riko, and apparently inherited the fucking Ten Shadows of all the goddamn things. The Zenin would lose their shit, and Gojo didn’t have the energy to fight and told himself he didn’t need to, because if Megumi was the Ten Shadows he’d be cared for like a prince with the Zenin. He turned around and left and spent the rest of his life with Megumi in the back of his mind, always nagging him with whether he made the right decision. It wasn’t until Maki got there and made a few worrisome references to Megumi's standard of living that he started to really worry that he had made the wrong one, and it wasn't until he found out about Tsumiki that he knew it was the wrong decision.

It's like this: The Zenin hurt Megumi in every world.

It would be bad no matter what, but it really gets bad because Megumi refuses to stop trying to get back to Tsumiki. She's his sister. They didn't have anyone or anything in this world, but they had each other, and he couldn't let these people just take her away. He’s feral about it. He refuses to fit the mold they keep trying to cram him in. He’s trying to scale the walls to escape. He’s increasingly desperate and angry and the Zenin are getting more and more frustrated the longer he fights them. He’s the heir to the clan, and he can’t stop trying to leave it to get back to some random girl who isn’t his real sister and isn’t someone they’ll ever allow him to have.

It gets bad.

They put him under increasingly strict levels of control. He’s constantly being trained, which means he's constantly being hurt. He’s not allowed to speak to anyone without the clan head’s approval. He is under absolutely constant guard after he manages to get over the wall and halfway to his old neighborhood before they catch him again. Tsumiki’s name is not allowed to be said aloud, or his old name. He forgets his name used to be Fushiguro, but he doesn’t forget Tsumiki. He doesn’t let himself.

I think it escalates until it hits a breaking point. Megumi becomes increasingly self-destructive and non-responsive to everything they try. They push him to extremes that start risking permanent damage.

I think Megumi would try to hurt himself, eventually.

He wouldn't be in his right mind. He's in the most shit situation possible. He's undergoing pretty severe abuse. He'd be at the end of his rope from the lack of control over his own life, and he'd be spiteful as hell towards the Zenin. And the only thing he has to hurt them with is himself.

As a character, Megumi has always considered his own sacrifice as an acceptable means to the end of getting back at someone. Mahoraga, intrinsically, requires him killing himself as a way of killing someone else. He'd hurt himself if it was the only way he had of hurting them.

Naobito would cover it up. He'd never, ever want the rest of the clan to find out that it happened. It was already bad enough that Megumi openly hated them--he couldn't have the Zenin seeing any vulnerability in what was meant to be their most powerful member. He'd put Megumi in total lockdown until he could make it all go away.

Then they'd make a deal.

A binding vow. Megumi could never purposefully hurt himself again. He could never again try to leverage his own safety against the clan.

And in exchange, Tsumiki would be taken care of.

The last time Megumi saw his sister, she was on a sinking ship. They were running out of food, money, options--he doesn't know if she even has food anymore. He doesn't know if she lost the apartment or if there's still running water.

They're not letting him see her. But they are letting him take care of her. He can sacrifice another piece of control over himself, and she'll never have to worry about money again. They'll pay for her housing, her food, her education, for her every desire for as long as she lives. The trust the Zenin set up for her will be a generous one, and it will be managed meticulously by a trustee who can make sure she'll be provided for until she's old and grey. And Naobito will vow to never hurt her or send someone else to hurt her. She'll be safe. She'll be taken care of.

Megumi makes the deal.

In the end, the deal's what sort of breaks him.

Because he doesn't promise to stop looking for her, but the Zenin manage to make it a part of the terms anyway. When they approach Tsumiki's mother with the offer to be her family's beneficiary, they include a requirement that Tsumiki be moved to another city entirely with no forwarding address given. She needs to be somewhere that Megumi can never find her again.

The Zenin keep the old apartment. They pay the rent every month. And the next time Megumi manages to make it off compound, they let him make it all the way there before dragging him home. They let him see the empty apartment with all its empty rooms.

Naobito wants him to know that Tsumiki's gone. He wants him to know that he'll never find her again.

He tries to run a few more times after that, but he never makes it very far. He doesn't have anywhere to go.

In the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki, just once. She's on a class trip. He's on one of his very few and far between allowed excursions off the compound grounds, and he sees her in the crowd and recognizes her, and he ducks away from his escort before anyone can stop him.

She remembers him. He didn't think she would do that.

She tries to save him. He didn't think she would do that either.

She still loves him. And he was always too afraid to hope she would do that.

It goes the same way it did the first time. There's a car, and the Zenin shove him in it. She's on the outside, and he's trapped within, and he wishes she didn't scream so loudly when it happens. The sound never seems to leave his dreams.

His sister still loves him. Naoya hits him in the back of the head. He wakes up, and it was like she was never there at all.

But they hit him harder, after. Like they're trying to beat the memory of her out of him. He has even less freedom, when he already had next to none at all.

But he still has a sister. He has a place to go that isn't here. He just has to figure out where that is.

He wouldn't really have anyone in the Zenin clan. Most people are just... weird about him. Naoya's violently abusive. Naobito's weird and violently abusive. Everyone wants him to be someone he's not.

Maki would be his favorite.

He doesn't care about whether she's got cursed energy--his sister didn't have any. And she's obviously strong. She doesn't treat him like a divine blessing or try to force him to act a certain way. I think they would have genuinely liked each other, but kept each other at a distance. They're both trapped in an abusive situation and keep themselves safe by keeping everyone else at arm's length.

He would have been happy to see her get out, though. He would have told her that she could have his spot as heir or head or whatever when she came back if she wanted it. She would have told him that if he ever got out... well, fuck it. They could be something then. Family. Whatever the fuck they weren't allowed to be here.

She would have told him she's sorry, and she would have meant it. The only one she she regretted more than Megumi was Maki. He would have told her not to be, that if she dared to be sorry for getting out that he would never forgive her, and he would have meant that too.

I think his relationship with his own techinque would be very different in a world where the Zenin raised him. In canon, his issue is that he doesn't view himself as someone who could be powerful or win in the long run, but in this world, all he ever hears is how powerful he is. Pride of the fucking Zenin. The most powerful of them in centuries. Meant to rival Gojo fucking Satoru himself.

I think his real issue would be controlling it.

His technique would be a source of negative associations for him. It's the reason why the Zenin took him away. Most of his interactions with it have involved getting beaten and hurt by either his family or a high-level curse they shoved him in front of. I think he'd have a lot more firepower under his belt than at the start of canon, but he'd have less of a fine tuned control over it.

He lost control over his own life because of his shadows. It think that would manifest in struggling to control his own shikigami at times. he's not as in-sync with them as he is in canon.

Eventually, he'd go to Jujutsu High. He would be the only one in the first year class at the beginning, just like in canon. And he'd finally meet Gojo Satoru, the man he's supposed to topple.

He looks at Megumi really goddamn weird.

He's... enthusiastic. About. Teaching. He guesses. And constantly asking prying questions about the Zenin, but not in the sort of way he'd expect from a rival. In the sort of way he'd expect from someone concerned about him. Which is stupid. And annoying. And weird. He keeps a distance from everyone. They've all heard about the Zenin clan heir, and he has no interest in having to fit or break whatever mold they've already cast him in. He's better off on his own.

Maki's there. She's cordial where other people can see it, and in private, she takes care of him in a way that's terrifyingly close to familial. He's not sure if he likes it. He's not Mai, and she's not Tsumiki, and they both want someone they can't have.

She isn't sorry she left. She is sorry she left him. He can hate her for it all he goddamn pleases.

Of course, if this is in the same world as the linked post, Megumi finds Tsumiki again. He finds her in Sendai.

He gets to keep her, this time.

Gojo Satoru, of all the goddamn people, intervenes and becomes his sister's benefactor. It's super fucking weird. He won't stop looking at Megumi strangely. He won't stop insisting that he didn't know he had a sister, like that matters.

That would sort of be the first time in a long time that life actually gets better for Megumi.

I think he would ask to go by Fushiguro again, once he asks Tsumiki what his name used to be. He'd ask her if she minded it, him taking the name again, and he'd ask the rest of the school to call him Fushiguro instead of Zenin.

Predictably enough, Naobito loses his shit when he finds out, but it's not nearly as big of a pain in the ass as he thinks it is? Because Gojo intervenes.

Gojo keeps intervening.

It drives Megumi nuts, because if anyone was supposed to hate him, it was this guy. If anyone was supposed to be against him, it was this guy. This is the guy he was supposed to rival. This is the guy who killed his shitheel bio dad.

Gojo's just... good to him. He keeps him safe. He keeps him safe from his own goddamn family, and that's--no one's ever done that. No one's ever protected him from the Zenin.

The Zenin try to remove him from the Tokyo campus and move him to Kyoto the second they find out Tsumiki's there, and Gojo just... says no. It causes an uproar, and he doesn't fucking budge. It's treading dangerously close to him kidnapping the Zenin clan heir, his refusal to let them remove him from the Tokyo campus, and he doesn't care about whatever problems it causes him.

Megumi's his student. He doesn't want to leave. So Gojo won't let them take him.

He personally goes to Kyoto and collects him, the one time the Zenin force him into a car and move him when Gojo's off on a mission. He tells the higher ups to get fucked. He changes Megumi's student I.D. to read Fushiguro, and he causes problems for Yaga and the assistants until they start calling him Fushiguro as well.

Megumi's different with the other students once his sister is there.

He's more connected with them. He becomes best friends with Kugisaki and Itadori. He gets closer with the second years. He's visibly happier, and it sort of casts in sharp contrast how unhappy he was before this.

And Gojo? Gojo's so goddamn sorry. He didn't know megumi had a sister.

The thing is that now that both Tsumiki and Megumi are on campus, it sort of haunts Gojo with what could have been. They're both fantastic kids--funny, smart, resourceful. And it's painful watching them try to rebuild what was taken from them. And it could have just. never happened. Because he could have saved them both. He could have been their family.

It's sort of painfully obvious the Zenin abused Megumi, and it fucking haunts him. He doesn't even have to read into Megumi's behavior--he sees it happen, right in front of him, with how they try to control him and push him around. He wants to kill them for it. He wants to hate himself for it. He could have saved Megumi and he just. He didn't.

He wishes he did.

#jjk #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #gojo satoru #zenin clan #zenin maki #also featuring in this au: itadori absolutely torn because his best friend's long lost brother is extremely pretty and he HAS to be in #violation of some kind of bro code. the boy is in crisis. there he is. enrolled in fucking wizard school. his best friend tsumiki finally #found her long lost brother. said long lost brother proceeds to give him his gay awakening. he's fucking sweating. kugisaki stop laughing #gojos latent desire for fatherhood has been violently awakened in this and no one is safe. he's everyone's dad now. no one wants this.#yuuta in africa: sensei it's three am why are you calling is everyone oka--what do you mean what color do I want you to paint my room. what #room. what are you talking about.#yuuta keeps getting the weirdest goddamn updates from japan and he thinks he's having a stroke. what do you mean zenin-kun is fushiguro-kun #and he has a fucking long lost sister and gojos possibly going to gently kidnap him. is it kidnapping if he wants it too but the people who #has custody of him doesn't. what do you mean he needs to come back and help maki kill her entire family. maki explain your words explain #yes word of god megumi is also yuutas boy in this one i decide this for no other reasons than i want this #it's not the same way as in sea glass gardens. Maki just said some worrying things when yuuta first met him and he decided to keep an eye #out for him. he didn't seem all that happy. and he seemed alone. yuuta didn't want him to be.#megumi's sort of blindsided because he went from being raised in a clan where he was barely a person to having a bunch of medically insane #people decide that his wellbeing was their personal crusade. like. no one ever cared about /him/ before this. they just wanted their idea #but not who he really was. he felt like he was screaming and no one could hear it. then suddenly these people he barely knows are like #okay so we're going to punch your shitty bio uncle and also set his car on fire. yes we will call you by the name that makes you most #comfortable. yes we will help you get a new wardrobe full of clothes you're actually comfortable in.#he hadn't heard his own name in years. he's just been the ten shadows. never fushiguro. only rarely megumi.#everyone calls him fushgiuro at the school. his sister calls him megumi. he sort of wants to cry about it but he doesn't.#his shitty uncle shows up and makes a big stink about him being called zenin and inumaki and panda keyed his car. is this what love is.#is it a keyed car.#Low key he does NOT know what's going to happen the first time the school goes on break because gojo keeps making comments about how #megumi's not going back to the zenin compound and he says it like a joke but. he may not be joking. is he not joking. is. is megumi being #kidnapped. again. this is getting statistically improbable. did gojo just. decide. to keep him. when did that happen.

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minuteminx · 1 year

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My biggest frustration as a Preston fan in the Fallout 4 fandom is not actually the people who make hate content (that’s annoying and awful but my block button is a pretty great balm for that); no, it’s actually the multitude of people who “would like him if…” “would have been more willing to spend time with him if…”

Call me crazy, but aside from the annoying radiant quest mechanic (which can be circumvented if you 1. Listen to Radio Freedom everyone once and a while, 2. Don’t do the quests you’re assigned bc you’ll only get a couple at a time before it stops, and 3. Make sure your settlements are in good shape. You have so much less to do if you settlements are taken care of on the front end. If they have a high enough defense and they’re under attack? THEY DEFEND THEMSELVES. Imagine that. Anyway) I actually LIKE how the game handles Preston and the MM.

Maybe it’s just me coming from Dragon Age fandom, where in the very first game, my fresh out-out-of-orientation Grey Warden is asked to take the lead by someone with more seniority because the more senior person is riddled with grief, survivor’s guilt, and insecurity that they’d be able to do a good job… sound familiar? Preston asks you to be the General because after everything he has been through, he’s not ready to fill that role. He can’t stomach the responsibility because he is afraid he’ll mess it up, that he’ll let people down.

But the thing is, he still does the General Stuff. He is the one organizing, communicating with settlements, strategizing, expanding, recruiting, giving orders, etcetera, etcetera. The sole who agrees to be the General is honestly just a figurehead for the settlers and a sounding board for Preston’s ideas. At the end of the day it is not the Sole Survivor who settlers run to, excited to thank them for all their help and make donations. It’s not the Sole Survivor who is viewed as the face of the MM. It’s Preston.

Do I wish the game came full circle and acknowledged that? Oh yeah I do, which is why I’m writing fanfic. I think that Preston deserved a personal quest where you retake Quincy from the Gunners and get revenge on Clint. I think the end of his story should be the Sole Survivor acknowledging that he’s been the General the entire time and bequeathing that title back to him now that he is recovering and ready for it. That’s really all I would have needed to feel like his story was complete.

As is, I enjoy traveling with Preston in game. He is refreshing. He has a lot of hopeful commentary about the Commonwealth, a lot of sarcasm and dry humor, and it’s great. He actually gives you less quests when he’s traveling with you as a companion, too.

His romance is lovely. It is the only one with some additional dialogue if you do the flirts, successfully initiate, then back out when he asks if you’re sure. He will come back later and say “listen, I know last time we talked, you said you weren’t ready to move on, but it’s been a while now and I still feel the same about you. I was wondering if you thought you might feel the same about me.” He also is genuinely so happy and excited to be with you. He gets a little more flirtatious. talking about MM regulations not covering your little situation (little eyebrow wiggle included). He calls you babe and tells you to be careful. It’s just as rich of a romance as literally any of the others.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but I’ve been seeing a number of new posts in this vein lately and I guess I wanted to add my thoughts. 😌

#preston garvey #fallout 4

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z3r0art · 1 year

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Miguel O’Hara X Reader story idea

Edit- so I saw the movie yesterday and BRUH!!!! Miguel’s logic is that there IS no logic, bro is PROJECTINGGGGG!!!!

hear me out! (Also keep in mind I haven’t seen the movie yet, just going on all the context I’ve seen goin around)

Reader and Miguel use to date, and they were a very happy couple. However Miguel is ALSO a very indecisive person and is secretly seeing another woman. Does he feel guilty about doing this to them both? 1000000% Does he truly love them both?…..

Sadly, he ends up slowly ghosting the reader when he finds out the other woman (his soon to be wife) is pregnant with his child. Ignoring her calls…..giving one word response texts…..blowing off their dates……

The reader (bless her heart and soul) thinks he’s just busy with work. However…. the reader finds out the truth by running into them and SEES his pregnant fiancé (not his wife yet) she’s absolutely devastated. He sees that she saw them and tried to explain, tried to find some way to tell her, that he’s still in love with her, that he never wanted to hurt her, but reader isn’t having it. “I trusted you! I thought you were different and genuinely cared about me! I saw the signs, but I really REALLY wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He tries to console her and explain everything, but she just slaps his hands away “Don’t you EVER touch me again!” and just leaves as he’s trying to explain.

the guilt continues to eat him up throughout the years, but hey- he’s made his decision…..right?

he still thinks about her and always wonders “what could have been.” Does he actually love this woman or did he just stay with her because she got her pregnant? He definitely loves his daughter, but…..does he truly love his wife? He’s conflicted and doesn’t know, but one day when he and his family are enjoying an outing, he sees the reader!

he gets excited and makes some excuse to his wife and says he’ll be right back; he’s not really thinking about his actions, but then before he could get closer, the reader turns around and he sees that…..she’s pregnant. Not only that, but there’s a pretty little ring on her finger. He then also sees a man coming up with some ice cream and is gushing about how he still can’t believe they’re having their first kid…..oh…..so that’s…..her husband. She looks so……happy…..without him…

he leaves before she sees him and he just feels…..numb. A certain pain that he can’t possibly put into words…..he always thought he made the right decision, but then seeing her again just brought up so many emotions that’s he’s been trying to bury deep inside.

another time skip happens and this could be where Miguel discovers the multiple timelines/universes. He accidentally finds one where….he and the reader are together…. How happy they look. He still has his daughter and the reader has her son. Something must’ve happened in this timeline where he and his wife broke up- same with reader and her husband.

he makes the decision to go to that timeline- but then…..it breaks. Everything is…gone. His wife, his daughter……the reader. All gone right before his eyes. All because he wanted to be selfish, all because he couldn’t make up his mind…..

now here he is in the present day, in the spidey society (or whatever it’s called) hunting down anomalies, depressed, and angry.

until one day…

a glitch happens in the main hall. Like a LITERAL glitch is happening and All the spiders start surrounding, but not getting too close to this….thing. Miguel comes from his quarters and is ready to attack said thing? But then when the glitch finally stops, they’re able to see it’s….it’s a woman? But not just any woman….it’s the reader.

hea in pure shock and has no idea what’s going on.

the spiders get close to her, checking to see if she’s dangerous or not, but they see she’s clearly not a threat. She’s shaking, unconscious, and……still pregnant.

Miguel finally snaps out of it, and tells the others to clear out the way.

He takes you to the medical bay and has the doctors give you a full checkup, once done, he’s left alone with you and his thoughts……

ok that’s all I got, I genuinely want someone to make this a fanfic😭 like PLEASE! The angst is TOO good😭🥹

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #Angst #spiderman #spiderverse spoilers #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #fanfic #fanfiction #Cheating

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purereflectionsworld · 2 months

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Here’s a snippet from an Aleida fic I’m working on, which I hope to post on AO3 once I’ve completed a few chapters. The goal is to fill in the gaps in her relationship with Margo, and Margo’s importance to her family, in that space between Seasons 2 to 3. This excerpt’s likely to be in Chapter 3, and is set in 1984. In which Aleida finds herself on a special first date, reminisces about Apollo-Soyuz, and realizes that Margo and Sergei’s relationship *might* not be as strictly professional as she’s assumed.

___

“So you’re one of the good Mexicans,” she says after he tells her about moving to Texas with his parents and brother when he was five - a perfectly uneventful journey in broad daylight - and her words come out about five shades more sarcastic than she’d intended.

He doesn’t smile. In fact, he’s looking at her very seriously. “The only bad Mexicans in my book are the ones who celebrate Cinco de Mayo, unless they’re actually from Puebla.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. She knows what a lot of the white collar Mexicans in Texas think of her kind. There’s a reason she’s never dated one of them before.

He sighs. “I will acknowledge that I’ve met a lot of Mexicans in my family’s circle here who don’t think like I do. Lot of them speak progressively, then treat my undocumented friends like shit. I’ve had to cut those people out of my life.” He meets her gaze, and her stomach flips over a little bit. “My ex-girlfriend, for one.”

She doesn’t say anything for a little while. Then, quietly, she tells him about Mama’s grave in Parras de la Fuente, and the night that Americans landed on the moon. About Papa, and homework sessions in the viewing gallery, and tutoring sessions with the first woman in Mission Control, and the worst phone call of her life.

She doesn’t tell him that she used to be homeless, and was once shot at, and struggled to hold down a job, and dumped her ex unceremoniously the day he helped her get this one. That she’s still living in a trailer park and likely won’t be able to move out until she gets the double promotion Margo has been heavily hinting at. But as he reaches across the table to squeeze her hand, briefly, before clearing his throat awkwardly and turning his attention back to opening his beer, she thinks that maybe she could tell him, someday.

He opens the bottle, takes a swig, and looks back at her. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” she says, giving him a little smile, so he knows it’s okay for him to talk again.

“So did you make it to the Kennedy School?”

“Yes, I did both tracks.”

“You know,” he says, smiling back at her, “I was waitlisted for one of the math tracks myself. Must have been ten years ago, too. If I’d spent a little more time studying, and a little less time DJing in my parents’ basement, we might have met. Which one did you do?”

It turns out that he currently teaches a lot of the advanced math she learned at the Kennedy School, so the conversation flows effortlessly back and forth between them for several minutes. He’s genuinely fascinated by all the ways she applies the concepts to design space shuttles, and satisfyingly incredulous that she works with idiots 10 years her senior who can’t keep up with her work.

“And your father?” he finally asks, gently, after the math banter reaches a comfortable lull.

“Still in Parras. I’m working on it,” she adds defiantly, because his gaze is shifting to something like tenderness, and she doesn’t want his sympathy. “Now that I’m a U.S. citizen, I’m hoping to sponsor him officially. My boss is trying to help, and she’s well-connected, so we’ll see.”

“You’re a citizen already?” he says, eyes widening. “Aleida, that’s amazing! I’ve heard it’s an uphill climb out of the amnesty program. Sounds like you’re working on some high profile stuff so I figured you might be an LPR by now, but…”

“I got fast tracked as a one-off,” she says, and suddenly as she looks back at him and sees the spark of wonder in his eyes, she feels a twinge of happiness about it that she didn’t feel in Margo’s office when Ellen broke the news, or even on the phone with Papa afterward. “The NASA administrator’s in Reagan’s cabinet, and she got him to approve it personally. For ‘important contributions to national security.’”

“What mission?” he says almost in a whisper, enthralled. “You able to tell me?”

She smiles, takes a breath. It’s not a secret, but somehow she’s never talked about it outside of NASA and her calls to Papa. “Apollo-Soyuz.”

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and she feels a warm rush at his recognition. She’s sure he remembers exactly where he was when the sirens went off. “What did you do?”

“I came up with an important part of the docking mechanism. Stayed on the Mission Control floor with the team when most of the country went to the bomb shelters. And -“ She closes her eyes involuntarily, recalls that soaring feeling. “They let me give the order to the astronauts on the CAPCOM. I’ll never forget it. Apollo, Houston. You are go for docking.”

She opens her eyes, and swallows hard, because he’s exhaling, sitting all the way back in his chair, just staring at her with an intense mix of shock and admiration and pride. Pride that she realizes she only ever hears these days in Papa’s voice on the staticky phone line, and sees in Margo’s eyes, sometimes, framed by dark red strands of hair, in that brief flash after Aleida solves a particularly complex problem.

“Okay,” he says twenty minutes later, taking another swig of beer, “so what I’m hearing is, you crashed your boss’ date with her Soviet counterpart the day you came up with the docking mechanism fix.”

“What? No, it wasn’t a date,” she laughs. “No way. You haven’t met Margo. If you had, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“You said they were both dressed up kind of fancy, and that he was drunk when he complimented your work ethic. Oh, and that your friend Bill said the first Apollo-Soyuz meeting went so badly that your boss made an awkward sex joke by mistake and that the Soviet guy responded with a purposeful one. Did I hear all that right?”

She pauses, cocks her head. “Okay, I can see how you got that impression.”

“I rest my case,” Victor says, setting his empty bottle down with a grin.

#for all mankind #aleida rosales #margo madison #margo x aleida #margo x sergei #sorry not sorry that I can’t stop writing Victor

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aquanova99 · 11 months

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Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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A/N: I have been writing like a word a day I am struggling to find happiness and motivation in writing so I apologize for any delay. Hope everyone is doing okay out there!

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Y/n’s POV

The subtle shift immediately caused your eyes to spring open. You stayed frozen, hoping he you still needed to actually wake up. That this was all a dream of some kind and you hadn’t actually had the nerve to trap Cato by falling asleep on him.

Yeah, right. Life has never been that kind to you. You slowly unglue yourself from his shoulder and take even longer to face him. Before the apology leaves your lips, Cato interrupts.

“Did you sleep okay?”

The question takes you by surprise. The genuine concern in his voice makes it hard to discern whether or not he is upset at your clear disregard for boundaries. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was that tired. You were probably uncomfortable.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve slept that good since before the games.”

“Me either.” The realization finally hits you. This is the second time you’ve felt safe enough to let your guard down. You wondered if it was simply because your body knew there was someone else next to you. Part of you wondering, if it only applied to Cato. No. Things were complicated enough as it is. You look up again to find him intently staring and realize he seems to waiting for a reaction.

“I should go meet Katniss.”

You don’t wait for a response and dash up the stairs into your room. You begin regretting not taking one of the rooms on the first floor. You figured you’d be able to hear if anything stormed in. Give you more time to escape. Your brothers had tried to convince you everything was alright, to take the larger room. You almost had another episode when they decided to split the room. You shouldn’t have been such a coward. Now, you realized, you had to walk past almost every room. And that simply, was not an option. You’d probably woken everyone up. Your face felt warm at the thought of anyone seeing you and Cato in the living room. You threw the window open and hoped the cool air would help you figure out how to breathe again. You debated figuring out how to climb down to the first floor before deciding to get through this as quickly as you could.

You change as quickly as you can and do your best to pretend your heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. The usually long hallway seemed to stretch even farther than normal. You walked and pretended you didn’t notice Cato and Enobaria in the kitchen. Pretended you didn’t hear their voices go silent as your footsteps approached. Pretended you didn’t see Cato and Enobaria stare as you walked by. Pretended as if their gazes didn’t burn through your facade as you hurried to get out of the house.

You had slept enough to know Katniss would be in the woods by now. You tracked her easily enough, and was glad to see Madge there as well. You didn’t want to talk about Cato’s plan you had decided to follow through on. You had debated it since you saw her and Gale, but really the less people knew the better. Than again, you told her about your act for Peeta…No. Even if she figured out it was an act, and she likely would, it was better you kept her out of the loop in case Snow decided to press for answers. More believable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Sorry? You haven’t slept in in more than a month at this point. I’d say she earned it, wouldn’t you Katniss?”

“She’s right.” Katniss grumbled, “How did you manage to finally sleep?”

Start planting the seeds, Y/n. “I decided to watch some cheesy capitol movies with…one of the victors. And I fell asleep on the couch.”

Katniss stared for a moment but shrugged. Neither of the girls pressed further. Thank God. You knew Katniss caught the pause in your response. She knew if you didn’t say anything it was because it was not meant to be shared with anyone else, even Gale. Damn. If you needed anyone to support your fake relationship it was Gale. He was popular enough at school people would agree with whatever he said, and you could only assume his character extended to the people he worked with in the mines. You knew this was easier said than done. Gale was no fan of showing any kind of performance for the Capitol, and he’d be less likely to support anything with a career. You had to convince Katniss what you were doing was real, or real enough so she could convince him to play nice for the cameras.

After collecting some strawberries with Madge while Katniss shot some wild turkeys it was time to head back. Checking any snares on the way back. A few rabbits to add to the pile. This would be a good haul for Katniss and Gale’s families. Madge split off first, paying Katniss for the strawberries, though she was met with some resistance.

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

“Its for being protection out there. I don’t plan on going out there by myself.” She pressed the money into her hands and walked off before Katniss could argue farther.

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

“Believe me you earned it.” Katniss’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the closest you usually get to a smile. “Going to trade the turkeys?”

She nodded and the two of you headed towards the hob. Stopping to drop the two rabbits off at Hazels, and one at her own home. You let her do her usual trading done, while you eat buy you both some food from Greasy Sae.

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

You smile at the older woman, “I did, he said it was some of the best food he’s ever tasted. He’ll be so upset I didn’t bring him.”

You wink at Sae and she chuckles before going back to her business, Katniss is analyzing your words. Unsure of what to make of everything, you’re sure. She doesn’t ask any other questions and you start to worry about whether she would say anything else. You both eat in silence, only thanking Greasy Sae when you both finish.

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

“Sure.” Thank god, you think. Katniss waits for the two of you to be completely alone in front of your house before she speaks.

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

“You brought a career into the hob? They aren’t welcome there.”

“It was just Cato. And they all seemed fine with him there. Relax.”

“Y/n. He’s still a career. People are going to talk.” That’s the point. They need to keep talking. Not only to sell the act you’re about to perform this next year but to start changing how they see the careers. Something besides from vicious killers and nothing more.

“Talk about what? Cato is a friend. I showed him somewhere he was curious about”

“Right. Which victor was with you when you decided to watch a movie?”

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

“Yeah we’re both responsible for 23 kids not being able to come back home.” You didn’t intend for the words to come out so harshly. You can tell Katniss recoils at the words, “Its not like hunting animals. Nothing like it at all. I still cant stop thinking about…everything. And its just easier to have someone who understands it. Have you and Gale ever talked about it?”

“…No.” And just like that, you know you’ve at least gotten your point across. “I never thought it would be the same.”

“I know. Gale did. And I get the thought process, but the aftermath… anyways. How is he doing with his new job?”

“Okay I guess. I don’t think it would be easy to go down there.”

“Yeah I couldn’t either.”

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

Her cheeks go red. “It would be fine.”

It would clearly not be fine. “Just this one Sunday? And then I don’t have to again right?”

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

You smile at her as she stands to go back home. You hesitate to enter your old home but you need to find out exactly what Mallory and Amal talked to them about. You force yourself to take a deep breath and knock on the door. The door flies open, almost taking out your mother as it swings back.

“Finally. You need to tell us exactly what’s going on.”

You told them nothing. The visit started out fine enough. Your brothers had been relatively quiet. Saying the victors had been called to teach you how to do interviews for the victory tour, which was true, and so that you would know what to expect from the capitol, also true. But your brothers had left too much out, your mother knew there was more you were hiding from her. She had no idea about the sponsors. You felt yourself relax. You assured her that was all they were here for. Your father sat staring daggers at you, probably sure you were lying and not as willing as your mother had been to accept your reassurances. Then everything became blurry. Your mother went from curious to irritated at not being able to get it together before they came here. Not showing a good image of a proper victor. She started yelling about falling asleep next to Cato when he had been sick. Started wondering about how I was suddenly fixed. Then the yelling became a little more noticeable when she got in front of your glazed over eyes. You blinked and heard your father complaining about you were conveniently choosing to not be present in important family matters. You glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall, and decided it had been a long enough day and stood up to leave.

You could hear the sounds coming from their mouths, but the noises didn’t register as anything in your brain. You walked numbly back home. Still not quite able to hear anything as you walked back in your house. You half recognized someone calling your name from the kitchen. You kept walking to your room, you saw Cato’s head turn back to look at you as you passed the living room. You continued walking. You were barely at the top of the steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Mallory is trying to say something to you, you think. Your thoughts, while still foggy, begin to react to your senses. You look at your hand for too long. You know you’re blinking too slowly, but your body does not seem to be in your control. The words ‘I’m fine,’ sound foreign coming out of your mouth. The only thing that feels natural is pulling your hand away and entering your room.

You don’t make it to your bed. You collapse a few feet in. At least your body seemed to know to at least make it the soft rug. You allow your body to sink into the floor, slowly, so slowly turning to the side. You bring your knees into your chest, and look straight ahead. Trying to find anything to ground you.

You left the window open…You took deep breaths by the window earlier…Did that work? It feels like ages ago…You force yourself back onto your hands and knees. Then focus on being able to kneel. One leg at a time…Why was this so much work?

You make it to the window eventually. The air offers some relief. You cant keeping blacking out like this. What if you zone out during the victory tour? The thought turns your stomach into knots, but its enough to somewhat snap you out of whatever fog had enveloped you this morning. When you open the door you find Cato sitting on the ground, maybe keeping watch. Guilt runs over you for worrying everyone. For not being able to hide it. He offers a half smile and you feign one back, pointing your head towards the direction of the stairs, silently asking him to follow you. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. The house feels empty… You open the door to your house and sit on the steps, you need to be outside. Realistically, you need to be out in the woods, but you cant…not yet.

“How bad was it?” You ask when he sits next to you

“Not great…” he admits, “Your brother looked pissed, he left right after you locked yourself in your room. Everyone else is with Haymitch.”

“They’re worried I’ll mess everything up during the tour.”

“Yeah.” You appreciated his honesty, it made it easier to not dance around the subject. He wouldn’t offer up most of his thoughts, but he didn’t hide them when asked. Made it easier to figure out how much you needed to work on.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. You were scared before your interviews when you started the games, right? When you’re going through it, it’ll be different.”

It has to be, you think. You know he’s right. You weren’t fighting right now. You were what? Surviving? No, more like running, or hiding. Avoiding the scary things. When you couldn’t run, couldn’t hide…would you be able to pull it off? You had to.

“What did I miss today?”

His face twists ever so slightly, “I don’t think today is a good day to talk about it.”

“I cant avoid this forever. I have less than five months.”

“Effie sent tapes, and…cards. They wanted to work on the speeches you’ll give on tour.” You stop breathing. Trying to find words to say. Trying to find any response other than the words that are threatening to come out once again, I cant. But you have to, another voice says. You force your lungs to take another breath, when you are back to as normal as you can get, he continues, “Theres a generic speech Effie has prepared for most of the tributes. But for…some of them you may want to make a separate speech.”

He means Rue and Thresh… and Peeta. You think about some of the other tributes, then realize the rest of Panem only saw you responsible for their deaths. Not the training center, or discussing possible alliances. That was your weight to carry, no one else’s.

“Y/n?”

“Lets go see Haymitch. I have some memorizing to do.” You can tell he wants to protest, maybe suggest waiting one more day. Still, he ends up nodding and when he stands offers to help you up. You take his hand for the split second it takes to stand up, and try not to think about how you wished he would hold it the entirety of the short walk over.

The house is silent when you walk in. You’re still surprised how thoroughly Brutus has gone through this place. They all tentatively meet you at the entryway. Haymitch looks you over for a couple seconds before putting his arm on your shoulder and nods his head, you nod your head a few times to tell him you’re fine. He pats your shoulder and you follow him into his own living area.

“So, I hear you guys have the speech I need to memorize.” You say when you sit down

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

“No. Time is running out, and we still have to worry about making the people here believe there is something happening between me and Cato. I don’t have anytime to waste. I need to be able to at least do this speech in my sleep.”

Haymitch again stares for a little and then hands you the cards. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But you know you’re going to have something prepared for District 11 and 12. That could wait. Effie spared no expense of praise for the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…ugh. Well, at least this would help convince Snow you wanted to play along with whatever he wanted you to do. To a point, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll go memorize this now. Anything else?”

“We need to get you two out more. Start building up the romance. So maybe we can go out as a group. A tour, maybe somewhere with music…start there.” Cashmere states

Music? In 12? It would have to be in the square, there’s simply not enough time to dance around like the Capitol parties. But maybe in the better part of 12, they sometimes had people bring out flutes, fiddles, stuff like that. No those are for holidays, and we wouldnt have another one of those for a few months. Then there was the hob. But techincally those get togethers are very much against the rules, not like most peacekeepers care too much around here. But that many victors could draw unwanted attention. You would have to find the right time, figure out how to ask without raising suspicion. If you or Haymitch asked, your ruse would go up in flames immediately. You think of Madge, she could know, but again, you cant ask her. Katniss though…she could figure out how to ask the question. Our brothers were out of the question, Amal was the worst liar, and Mallory was terrible at keeping anything from him. Though, like Katniss, he would probably figure it out too.

“Got it,” you say, “I’ll figure out how to get us out in the public eye here. I’ll be back soon.”

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

“We’ve already wasted a whole day. This is going to end badly for all of us.”

“I need to figure out how to set up times for us to get seen together, and I cant just go out and ask. It would be obvious. I need to figure out who to ask and how to do it without anyone knowing about our plans. My family cant know anymore. Mallory will figure it out on his own. Later. He needs to believe this as much as Snow does. I’ll be back.”

Whatever courage you had diminished the second you exited the house. The sun was beginning to set, and you needed to get your plan in motion. You walked as fast as you could without attracting any attention. Knocking entirely too loudly.

Katniss opened the door and immediately sits in front of the door closing it as quietly as she can to avoid her family listening in. You both whisper as quietly as you can regardless.

“You know if Peeta had made it out, I wouldn’t have to worry about visiting any sponsors.” Katniss squints her eyes analyzing every word, “I mean I could have played along with the whole romance act. The capitol would never split up a couple by asking favors of them.”

“Interesting.” She nods, fully taking in what you’re telling her.

“Anyway, I really want to take the victors to hear some music. I just don’t know who to ask…”

“Madge maybe. Or she would know how to find out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know her like that though.” She takes a deep breath. Hating what I was asking of her.

“Okay. Hey, I think I am going to her house tomorrow to try and learn piano. You’re probably busy, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear her play again too.” Katniss chuckles at your sarcasm

“I have to make sure Prim eats. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Sounds good.” You squeeze her hand in a thank you and she nods before heading back inside. Your stomach growls at the reminder that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You trudge back, still ashamed of your inability to handle the tiniest stressors. Your parents yelling wasn’t new, but you had never been unable to defend yourself. It was as if being in the games had made everything feel so much worse, more…intense. Made you weak. And you no longer had the energy to deal with it. Brutus was right. It wasn’t just my life anymore. Cato, Haymitch, and the others…they could all suffer because of me.

At some point your brothers ran up behind you. You must nave been moving slower than you thought.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

“Nope. Anything you guys in the mood for?”

“Anything works.” Mallory replies, Amal is quiet and you can only imagine the conversations they inserted themselves into at home. “We can make something this time.”

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

“Okay.” After a few moments of silence you start again, “I’m sorry if I freaked you guys out. “

“Its fine, It wasn’t as bad this time.” Amal says, Mallory nudges him probably trying to not worry you again. It goes over his head, “What?”

You chuckle, you wish the older of the two would be as honest as Amal. It helped you remember to not take things so seriously, “Good. I’ll try and get the time down to a few minutes.”

They both smile and they begin to talk about how much they have learned from the other victors. You are glad they are enjoying the company until Mallory mentions wanting to ask Brutus about tips. Just in case he gets reaped he says. You know its likely they get called, its happened before, family members from victors who had become capitol favorites. With all the commotion you caused. You realize its likely your brothers had a high chance of going in. The upcoming quell… your brother wasn’t an idiot. Its been theorized the Capitol has rigged certain reapings, Haymitch has no one left, but you? It may not be the worst idea. And you certainly couldn’t help him. You would worry too much, in fact the conversation turns your stomach to lead. Suddenly, food held no interest to you. Still, you have to be rational. Cato’s advice saved your life, if Mallory is put in this position… Brutus might save his.

“I think Brutus might appreciate the distraction, if he won’t Cashmere will.” You keep your voice even, but your heart feels like its shattering at the thought of having to become a mentor. Playing along with the sponsors may not be such a bad idea. If it keeps Mallory out of the games. That’s what they said Finnick does, right? You would have to talk to Cato again. You knew if you told either sibling they would tell you to not go back on the original plan. Which is probably why he’s is preparing to go in. So many people willing to put themselves in harms way when you could just play along. You’re from 12, after all maybe in a few years time they would all but forget you.

When you enter your home you’re almost overwhelmed by the smells coming from the kitchen. Amal and Mallory run in ready to help. Enobaria greets them, and they continue talking. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other. You smile to greet Enobaria and Cashmere, but when you meet Cato’s eyes you know he can tell somethings up. He points his head toward the living room and you nod and sneak away. He meets you on the couch, bringing some water and a plate of fruit.

“What happened?” He asks immediately. He sits next to you, which was better because you didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Mallory. I’m so stupid, Cato. If we do this…he’s going to get reaped. I know it. I was right before, I volunteered for nothing. If I had just eaten the stupid berries before Peeta could say anything. They’d be safe. I’ve ruined everything… I—”

Cato brings you into him and you decide you don’t care if its for pity or what. You allow him to comfort you. No tears come just a general sense of hopelessness.

“We’ll figure it out,” he breaks okay and fand positions himself to look at you, “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

You nod. He tries to hand you the glass of water but your hands are shaking. He holds one hand to help you drink and when you finish puts the plate on your lap. You notice he gives you some space, and you find yourself hating it. You manage to force a few pieces of fruit down when the rest of the house comes in.

“There you two are!” Cashmere floats down and hands you another plate, you smile and try and eat as much as you can stomach. Enobaria asks about the upcoming school year, who the younger ones talk to, their favorite things to do. They both answer, and ask their own questions in return. I’m grateful for the distraction and by the end of the night you find yourself smiling, you find out Amal has been picking things up from Prim. Wants to figure out how to be a doctor, Mallory isn’t exactly sure as he thinks he will just work in the mine. Cashmere pushes and he tells them about drawing when he is bored but nothing else really coming to mind. Both of the female victors encourage them, saying that with your help anything is possible now. You encourage them too after a while, you've realized most people accept what they were born into in 12. The bright side of being a victor is you could give them a chance. A real chance. If you don’t get them killed first.

Cato helps Cashmere collect everything. You know he is likely telling her exactly what is concerning you. You hate going back and forth on this. Making things even harder. Everyone eventually disperses, you try to relax with a bath but you decide its not working and just clean up quickly. After pacing around for a bit you decide to go back down. You sit on the living room and turn on the tv, hoping something will put you to sleep.

Why isn’t it working? You’re staring at the screen for over an hour when you hear footsteps coming down. You don’t move, you know who is coming to join you.

“Cant sleep?”

“Nope.” You smile up at him, “Care to join me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I enjoy the company.” You wonder if you’ve been so closed off for him to still think you dislike him. Maybe he actually wants you to leave. He always seems surprised when you seem to want his company at all. Then again, you’ve been going back and forth on the plan you agreed with since the beginning, why wouldn’t he think you don’t want him around.

“What are you watching?” He asks as he sits on the seat adjacent to yours, you try not to let your face show your disappointment

“A movie from the capitol, the acting is pretty bad so its no wonder they believe whatever the tributes sell to them. Its almost done I think, do you want to pick something?” He shakes his head and you flip through until you find another movie you don’t care to watch. You tell yourself its background noise, and after a while your eye lids get heavy.

Images of the cornucopia appear, drops of water dripping onto the makeshift cave you hid in with Peeta, the snares you’d so carefully hidden in the underbrush, the buzz of the tracker jacker nests, Glimmer’s…screams…? Suddenly you’re running, you think you hear her scream for help when the swarm of tracker jackers descend upon you. You’re on the floor and Glimmer’s disfigured body is facing you, her eyes glazed over yet full of hate and blame. Her lips release a raspy voice not belonging to anyone in particular, no it wasn’t her voice… it was multiple voices. They all hiss together in a bone chilling, raspy harmony…

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

Your body shoots up and you’re unsure if that last scream was another part of your dream or your own voice. You violently pat your body to check for the stings of the of tracker jackers. Only when you’re sure nothing has happened do you allow yourself to check your surroundings of the room. There is still a dull murmur coming from the tv and you curse yourself for thinking it would be an easy solution to aide in your sleep. Whatever happened last night…it didn’t matter. It was a mistake. The clock is ticking…only a little past one in the morning. You look over at Cato’s chair, he isn’t faring much better. He had tried to get comfortable but his position was anything but. He is mumbling something under his breath, his eyes are squeezed tight and his hands appear to be clutching the hair by his ears, effectively covering them. If it didn’t look like he was about to crush his own skull you might have left him alone. That would be what he would tell you to do, to leave him. Well. You’ve never been the best at following directions.

You put your hand on his. The one closest to you. His body freezes, you wait a few seconds to allow him to figure out where he is and, as delicately as you can, you pull one of his hands away from his. You focus on his breathing, short and shallow. You pat the hand you’re holding when you bring a good enough distance away from his face and go into the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When you come back he still seems somewhat disoriented, aside from his hands he hasn’t moved. You push the water into his hand until he takes it. He blinks slowly, and takes a few sips. You carefully take the cup back and place it on the table, not moving from your spot on the ground.

“Did I wake you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and you quickly shake your head

“I woke up from a dream of my own actually.” He nods and slumps to the floor next to you, you notice he begins fidgeting with the small beaded bracelet you had gotten him, and wonder if whatever he was dreaming about continues to haunt him. You can only hope he says anything to drown out that disturbing cadence of whispers echoing in your mind.

“Do you want me to keep watch again? I don’t think I want to sleep right now.” He asks quietly

And I do? The thought makes you smile but you just shake your head at his proposal, “I don’t think I can either. How bad is our schedule tomorrow?”

“They probably have more debriefing, the interview tapes have come in.”

“Great.” You scoff, “I guess we have no choice but to try and sleep again.”

Glimmers disfigured face pops back into your head and you shudder, not in any way excited to see who you’ll see when you close your eyes. Cato stands and turns the tv back on. He offers a sad smile and holds his hand out. You take it knowing full well what his plan is. The tv goes back on and you sit next to each other this time, both trying to focus to blur any remaining memories of your nightmares. The next time you succumb to your fatigue the nightmares stay away. And just like that you both silently agree to continue the process. Both finding excuses from then on to come downstairs and turn the stupid tv on. One of you always waking up before the other and sneaking back into your room to get ready before the rest of the house woke up. By Sunday, you felt rested but your neck really hurt. Katniss’s knock woke you up that day.

“Just wondering if you were still coming.” Gale stood a good distance behind her but nodded in your direction which you returned.

“I have to get ready but yeah one second.” When you close the door Cato is already awake, leaning against the wall.

“You think you’re ready?” It was an innocent question that you only wish you knew the answer to. You had met up with Katniss a few more times this week, but today felt ominous. You suddenly felt like everyone else who avoided the woods. Terrified, like you would have to keep watch for the safety of the fence line.

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure?” He gave a singular nod and told you he was going to go get ready. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before rushing to do the same. You debated starting the whole romance thing now but you decide its better to not overfill your plate. You are a bit surprised Gale and Katniss say nothing when Cato comes out with you. You wonder if Katniss has caught on and whether she’s said anything to her favorite hunting partner.

The walk to the meadow is mostly silent until you offer food for everyone to eat before heading in. But that’s silent too. Everyone’s guards are up. Everyone worried about mine and Cato’s reactions. Including myself and Cato.

Gale seems to liven up in the forest, his footstep soundlessly picking up the pace. You all follow closely behind.

“Alright Y/n, easy pickings.” He points towards some wild turkey.

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve got this.” He hands you one of the bow and arrows made by Katniss’s father. You look to her for permission before even placing your hand on it. But the second you touch the weapon your hands start shaking.

“Y/n, if you’re not ready…” Cato starts but Gale interrupts suddenly agitated

“She’ll be fine. The woods are all she knows, right? She cant be scared of the one good thing about this place.” Cato doesn’t respond, you squeeze his arm and he nods. You barely have the strength to draw the arrow back and your muscles are screaming. You’re weaker than you anticipated. You take a deep breath and aim in the general direction of the bird, but the second you release the arrow the only thing you see is Marvel.

The Marvel you see staggers back, blood pouring from his mouth. You hear yourself scream and step back almost falling into a tree. Cato’s hands grab each of your arms, “NO! Please…”

“Its not real. You’re not in the games. You’re safe…” He says in your ear but his voice is shaky. You have to blink a few times before you nod. You hand the bow back to Gale.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine. You can try again, it will get better.” He holds out the bow but you step back

“Gale..” Katniss warns him, Cato pushes me behind him as he turns to look at her

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

“You don’t get it. She belongs out here. You don’t. She needs to be able to come out here, even if she doesn’t hunt anymore. The games aren’t going to ruin that for her.”

They’ve already ruined it, you think. “Its going to take time. She has to see everyone again in a few months. She can decide when she’s ready.”

Gale steps forward, “Y/n, come on. We’re going to keep moving.”

“Back. off.” Cato growls but Gale keeps moving forward and you react before he figures out whats happening. Gale had pointed the bow in Cato’s direction, and its like something takes over him immediately. His entire body shifts into a position you remember in the training center. From Arioch…

“Or what?” He starts

His name comes out as a warning, to no one but yourself, “Cato…”

Time seems to slow down, this time, its you who has to let Cato know hes safe. You rush to get in front of him, grabbing for his hand reaching for the knife hidden away. A stupid decision on your part because you come from the bottom up so you feel the sting before fully realizing the blood dripping down your arm as fail to stop his arm from pulling it out from across his body. This is what he knows. You stare him down with one hand useless, and the other on his arm with the knife. You think you hear one of them pull the arrow back. Idiots. This can only make things worse. His other hand grabs the one holding onto his arm, preventing him from either throwing or hunting them down. The other arm has seeped through your shirt and is bleeding onto the ground ever so slowly, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip

“Put the weapons down!” You yell at everyone. Scaring off any prey they were hoping of catching. Cato looks furious but he blinks at you as if he is trying to figure out what part of his games you’re form.

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

“Now!” You can hear the footstep receding. You’re sure they wont be going far so you have to make this quick. His grip on your arm tightens and you struggle not to cry out. But you had to make sure he thinks of little of his games as possible. Right?

Drip…

“You said we were allies. We aren’t done here.” More blinking. When this is over you’ll have to remember to thank him for giving you the answer to this very problem. You avoid saying anything about the actual games. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to slow his fast and heavy breathing. The hand with the knife going up his head, pressing against it. He forcefully lets go, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you fall onto the ground. Both arms have gone up to his head, trying to silence voices you will never hear. You stay on the ground so as to not disturb him, hoping he comes back to you on his own. Whatever he tries to block out elicits a small groan of his own as he falls on his knees. His hands never leaving the sides of his head as he continues to try and quiet the nightmares I forced him to see by coming out here. You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffens. His head slowly looks up at yours.

“You’re okay.” You whisper, as if speaking loudly would ruin any progress, “Everything's okay.”

His head scans the area and when he looks back you his eyes widen again, his breathing quickening. “Oh my god.”

You don’t have to follow his eyes to know what hes looking at, “I’m fine. It was my fault.”

His hands turn your forearm to face him, really the scratch wasn’t very deep. Long maybe, but really it would heal quickly. The bleeding had mostly stopped anyway. He lifts the t-shirt sleeve up to where your cut is completely exposed. Cinna probably had some kind of scar cream, you weren’t worried about it. Cato shakily grabs the bag you had set down when you had tried to shoot the arrow, fumbling until he finds what hes looking for. A small red box. You realize it’s a first aid kit, he grabs the water bottle you’d brought as well and begins pouring water on your wound. Your arm twitches when the water first contacts you and Cato winces.

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

“Its not.” He says sternly. He places a type of pad on your arm and begins bandaging. You only try to speak when he’s almost finished

“Cato. This wasn’t your fault. I grabbed the knife wrong. This is on me.”

“Y/n. Stop.”

“No. You cant even look at me. This is not your faul—”

“I shouldn’t have come out here. I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I wasn—”

“You were right. This is a mistake.” He begins to stand up again

“Cato, wait—” You scramble to catch up to him, but before your arm even reaches out he snaps at you

“No Y/n. This should have never happened. I could have killed you! We will stick to public appearances, the rest of the time you need to stay away from me.”

For some reason this infuriates you. “What are you talking about? No. You said we would do this together. You cant back out now.”

He turns around just as furious, “You’ve been backing out almost every day! Why does it matter if I do it??”

A valid point. You weren’t sure why you were fighting so hard for him to not back out but it suddenly sounded unacceptable. Especially not out of guilt, “Beca—”

“I told you I was dangerous! I told you to use the sedative if you needed to. How could you not bring it??? Do you not understand how easily I could have killed you? Do you know what that would have don—Do you think I could live with myself?” He takes a deep breath, trying to lower his voice. It was the loudest you had ever heard him, certainly. Guilt gnawing at you for not realizing how all of this could have undone any progress, how he could have been punished.. all because you couldn’t shoot a damn arrow. Anger also fights for the dominant spot in your mind, you were the one who just de-escalated everything. Your silence seems to soften him and you know it's only because he's once again, sure he's terrified you.

“Look. Just—Make sure you start bringing the sedative. I’m serious. For your own sake—”

He lets out an exasperated sigh of disbelief as you hold your palm out. The sedative pen still capped facing him.

Cato’s POV

She had it this entire time? Why didn’t she use it? Did she forget? How could she forget? You stood there staring as she held her hand out. Unsure of what to do , what to say. You had just screamed at the person who stopped you from hurting anyone. Who had hurt herself in order to give you the chance to stop. Who had somehow managed to distract you enough to realize you were slipping back into your games. You couldn’t face her as you bandaged her arm, and now you felt like you couldn’t stop staring, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t immediately use that on you.

It was her turn to be angry, but instead of saying anything she grabbed your hand and forced the pen into it before heading back home.

You could only stand there for a minute before you chased after her. You caught up relatively soon, “Y/n?”

When she says nothing. You decide to keep your mouth shut. The walk back is tense she lets the door almost close on you and you aren’t surprised to hear the door slam. You’re thankful no one seems to be home. You know her brothers are at her parents, and Enobaria and Cashmere said they wanted to talk to Haymitch about the public appearances they want to start up. You decide to go over there just to let them know you’re both back.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Could’ve gone better.” Is all you say as you walk back out. The rest of your day is you hiding in your room. You go out to make yourself a quick lunch. You’re pretty sure Y/n hasn’t come down so you leave a plate of food at her door and knock before running back down to your room. You pace, read, lay down, repeat. You only come out when Enobaria calls you down to eat again. You ask if Y/n has said anything to her but Enobaria says she was worn out from trying all of that today. You wonder if the cut on her arm came up.

“Cato. Is everything okay?” She crosses her arms as she watches you eat. You take one more bite and toss your fork down. You needed today to be over. You can overthink by yourself.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You grab your plate and toss everything in the trash. Something people here probably wouldn’t be very fond of but its beyond you to care right now. You can feel Enobaria looking at you but she doesn’t follow. You go into your room and turn the lights off so hopefully, everyone assumes you’re asleep and leaves you alone. You cant sleep. In fact, you know you wont be able to sleep since the only decent sleep you’ve gotten in over a year has been with y/n when you pretend to watch the tv. Really, its probably your brain telling you that you two are watching each other’s backs, but it doesn’t matter. You doubt you could trust anyone else like that.

You replay today’s events for the millionth time. She must have been terrified. And then on top of everything you go and yell at her. She could have yelled back but the only time she even sounded slightly annoyed was when you said doing the whole romance thing may not be a good idea. Isn’t that what she wanted? Was it the way I said it? You hold the pillow over your head for a few minutes before throwing it to the floor out in annoyance. Just fall asleep. Fall asleep. You tell yourself you deserve any nightmares that come to you but sleep refuses to make an appearance. Probably because you were ridden with guilt and disgust. You decided to go apologize. You went down the hall where Y/n’s room was hidden away, you hear Cashmere and Enobaria talking in the distant kitchen. As you raise your arm to knock, the door swings open.

The two of you are stand once again, motionless. With nothing in her hands, you wonder if she had an idea similar to yours. You open your mouth to start apologizing but she shakes her head and steps out of your way. Allowing for you to enter her room. You tell yourself you’ll apologize properly and then leave her alone. She probably just wants to keep todays events hidden, better to curb any more fears about this plan’s already fragile state. When she quietly closes the door behind you try to speak before she once again cuts off your apology by wrapping her arms around you. You freeze, waiting for your living nightmares to resurface but when they don’t come, you return the embrace. A warmth radiating deep in the cold recesses of your heart.

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

You immediately step back, “No. That’s what I should be saying. I was the one who wanted to go, I was the one who hurt you, I was the one that yelled. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I knew I wasn’t ready.” You bring her towards you again and try not to notice the smell of her hair, still somewhat damp from a fresh bath.

“Can I check?” She sighs but holds her arm out. You feel relief upon realizing how shallow the cut was. You quickly leave her room for more supplies and sneak back as quietly as possible. You both sit on her bed and you begin. You work carefully. Quietly. She says nothing until you put the healing ointment over the scratch.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.” She tries to joke but you’re struggling to understand why had to put herself in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

“You know when I blew up all of the supplies in the cornucopia and everyone ran back…Arioch was so mad he snapped the boy from three’s neck. It was less than a second and Elias was dead. On the ground. You could have done the same the second I grabbed the knife. You stopped yourself. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I could have still killed you, before all of that.”

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

“Honestly if you really thought you were in the games and you thought the three of us were working together you would have either gone for the person most dangerous to you, which wasn’t me and would have given me time to use it. Or you would have used me as a bargaining tool, and I still would have been able to use it. So, drop it.” Her voice gets short and you decide to listen, trying to not get into your head again. She sighs and lowers her tone, still grumbling at the thought of it.

“I shouldn’t have hid behind you and I should have told Gale off myself. I would have had a better chance at either grabbing the knife or deescalating the situation.”

You cant help yourself. The thought of her putting the blame on herself is ludicrous and you cant accept it, “I shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“I wanted you to come. I would have asked you to anyway.” She says it so softly you aren’t sure you heard her right. You don’t say anything more as you finish rebandaging her. “I’m tired.”

You tell yourself you promised you would leave her alone so you just nod and say “Okay.”

You shift to stand up and leave but she grabs your wrist, “Can you stay?”

“Okay.” You find yourself unable to say anything else at the moment. You down move from your seat on her bed as she lays down. Your throat suddenly feels very dry. You feel as if you’re breaking some kind of rule from the agreement you both had made, which is ridiculous since you had been accidentally sleeping together when you would watch tv. It was just easier to fall asleep that way. You try going over possible interview questions in your head but absentmindedly fidget with the bracelet which gets her attention. She leans over enough to place her hand on your back causing you to jump.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you plan on keeping your knife under the pillows?” You shake your head and she smiles, “Then yeah, as long as your comfortable with it.”

She scoots over and you lay next to her. Neither of you fall asleep right away and you try and see if she wants to talk about what happened before she stepped in front of you. “Can I ask you something?”

She turns to her side to face you, you try and resist the urge to get closer and just turn your head to her direction staying on your back. “What is it?”

“What did you see?”

She goes unnaturally still, you want to tell her to forget about it but she decides to answer, “Marvel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She turns onto her back and looks up as she recounts her time in the games, “You saw the games. I missed.”

“I thought you hit him.”

“I did. But I waited too long and I ended hitting a lung…I was so mad. I was going to watch him suffer for the net. For throwing his spear. He told me to finish. To kill him. When I pulled the knife out I held onto his hand as I plunged my knife into him. I felt his hand go limp in mine. I see his death all the time. Then I run away. In every dream I run, and it doesn’t matter what direction I run I always end up seeing Rue. Struggling to breathe. I didn’t even know she was hit right away.”

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I hadn’t hesitated I would have. She would have won. I would have made sure of it.” You don’t like what she’s implying but you say nothing, knowing theres more to be said, “Almost everyone else’s death I see like I was watching the games from home. But Marvel and Rue…and Glimmer sometimes. They don’t ever go away. It also sucks because I saw Thresh die the same way everyone else did and I feel bad he doesn't bother me as much.”

She doesn’t turn to face you but you can see tears beginning to form so you reach out and grab her hand. She returns the gesture, intertwining her hand in yours. She finally turns to look at you, but she is too tired to even try and pretend its okay. It isn’t. And it doesn’t get better. But its only fair you tell her your side of things too.

“I see everyone. Whether I killed them or not. I see myself killing them, not being able to stop. Then I hear them. Their families. Calling me a monster. I try to say I cant stop but I can never speak.”

She squeezes your hand. You have others, sometimes its all of the training methods you had in 2. Others are when you are begging to call your family so you can go home, then the voices from the games merge into those too. You turn to face her and she lets go of your hand to turn. She begins to get close. Too close. Shes above you, resting on her elbow you feel her other hand reach up. A finger traces your brow, her thumb gently wiping a tear you weren’t aware had spilled.

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

You cant help yourself. You don’t let her let go of your face. You don’t want to let her go at all. So you don’t. With your free arm you bring her as close as you can and hold her. Tired of pretending you weren’t constantly craving her presence. Her touch. You only let go of her hand to put your own in her hair as you pulled her into you. She doesn’t protest. She continues to lean in eventually letting her lips rest on yours ever so gently. Her lips were soft and warm. You could feel them slightly part as she let out a slight gasp. It was as easy as breathing. When you both pull away, you feel like its too soon. You know that you are only entangling yourself into a potentially dangerous situation with the capitol. You had something to lose now. As she stared at you with the same realization you realized you didn’t care. You had something to lose, yes, but you also finally had something to lose. You didn’t want her to worry, you just brought her into you again. Letting her head rest on your chest. Knowing sleep would come easily. You run your hand up and her back and you feel her thumb going back and forth on your chest. Her hand stops moving first, you aren’t sure when your eyes close. All you know is for the first time you feel at peace, nothing gnawing at the back of your mind. No dreading about waking up and doing it all over again.

When you do wake up its anything but peaceful. You both hear the urgent knocking and sit up immediately. You both share a look and you move to the other end of the bed. Pretending you were simply keeping watch.

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

“What is he doing here? What are you doing here?? What happened to your arm?” Enobaria sounded confused. Furious.

“I still couldn’t sleep. So, I asked him to keep watch and alternate with me. But I fell asleep on my turn.” Y/n, you’ve noticed is only exceptional at lying when it involves someone else. “Sorry. I thought I was getting better?”

“And your arm?” Unfortunately for the two of you, Enobaria was not in way easy to convince. She crossed her arms as asked about Y/n’s injury.

“I got it when we went hunting yesterday. I freaked out and I was fumbling to grab my knife to protect myself. Cato bandaged me up and came to make sure it was healing okay last night. I asked him to stay. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I said I was tired and hid in here all day.”

“And why didn’t you mention this accident?” She starts asking you

You shrugged and tried to seem indifferent, “She asked me not to.”

“Y/n you need to at least get one more person to change shifts, its—” you see that shes struggling to find the words, but theres no real way around it, “its not safe. The flashbacks they don’t always show up in the most convenient times.”

Your head drops, and you can feel Y/n stare. You want to disagree with her but Enobaria is right. One nightmare and you could wake up in a place where Y/n isn’t Y/n at all. Just another person you cant unsee in the games.

“I trust him.”

She says it so easily, you want to believe her. Believe that you would never do anything to her. But you already had. “Y/n its better to be safe than sorry.”

“I trust him. Which is a good thing because at the end of this whole thing we’re going to have to end up together right? So does it matter if we help eachother out?”

Enobaria sighed, “Come on, we have a busy day.”

She leaves the room quickly. No doubt going to talk to Cashmere. You lift your head to look at Y/n, “Don’t.” She says

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

You take out the syringe and hold it out. “Please. Just to be safe. For me.”

The last line makes her flinch. She lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches the pen out of your hand. “I’m not going to use it.”

She leaves her room before you have a chance to respond. The words, ‘I know,’ stuck on your lips. You follow behind her and meet up in the kitchen with Enobaria and Cashmere. Enobaria still looks upset but Cashmere has a knowing grin on her face you desperately want to ignore. She slides you and Y/n a plate of food.

“Well before we do anything today, Y/n I suggest you go see your cousin. She came by to check on you already. I’m assuming since yesterday didn’t go so great?” Enobaria states

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cato? You’re practicing interview questions with Brutus.”

“Why him?” You immediately protest

“Because he is going to pinpoint everything you need to work on and this needs to go perfectly.” There was no point in arguing with either of them. Especially when Enobaria was already on the verge on sending you over to Haymitch’s house.

“What about you guys?”

“Oh Haymitch is going to show us around a bit more.” Cashmere says, you and Y/n share a look. They’re planning something and you two are not to know about it. You both eat in silence until Y/n finishes and is promptly shooed out of the house. You mainly push the food around your plate. Avoiding the stares that felt like were burning holes into your body.

“Its good you two are comfortable with each other. It’s going to make things easier.” Cashmere starts

“Its also going to make things more difficult.” Enobaria grumbled, “This whole charade still might not work. You need to be careful. You both just got out of the games. You still technically need to be supervised.”

“The more believable the more the capitol will want them to get married and pick a district. Regardless of what they feel, they need to make the Capitol obsessed with them in a matter of two weeks for the victory tour. We can worry about the rest later.”

You stood up, not able to take anymore second guesses. You were already doing that yourself. “We just took shifts keeping watch. That’s it.”

You knew they were right but the thought of showing affection toward y/n like that when you still weren’t sure what you felt made you feel…gross. Like you would be forcing her to do things she wasn’t sure of, or didn’t want. This, of course, only worries you about last night. About whether she meant to kiss you, whether you did. Whether she wanted to, or did so out of pity.

You evaluate every action, dissect every movement until Brutus comes in. Working with him is almost unbearable and nearly impossible to get into camera mode. He refuses to make it easy. He starts by quizzing you on everything you and her wrote down, any hesitation would result in breaking character and yelling. You maintain at best a casual conversation, which gave you hope on how things would go with Caesar if it came to that. And you needed it to come to that.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

Brutus rolls his eyes and grunts in what you assume is disgust, but he continues with the questions. Y/n comes back with her brothers behind her and interrupts, “Its my turn, Cato.”

“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He dismisses her but Y/n doesn’t budge

“They asked you to question him because you would be the harshest judge. Its my turn.” She turns to you and asks if you can talk to her brothers, and simply nod and follow them into the kitchen. You hear her tell him he needs to really try so neither of them waste eachother’s time and you’re tempted to hang back and hear how it all plays out.

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Hm?” Mallory’s voice snaps you back and you wonder exactly how much shes told them. You only remember her demand to keep them out of it. “In the woods?”

“Yeah. How bad?”

“Not…great. She was doing okay until she tried to shoot an arrow. Then she remembered her games and was thrown off.”

“So, she did hurt herself trying to get the knife?”

“Yeah she thought she needed to grab it quickly and ended up fumbling it before she actually got a good grip on it.”

“Probably good you were there. She trusts you.” Amal pipes in. Guilt hits you like a train again. Mallory just nods but you’re sure he has more questions about what is happening around here. Around their sister. How were you all supposed to help her? How could he help her? Questions you can never answer. You ask more about the hob. Wondering if you could go there alone. Mallory doesn’t recommend it, most people in twelve even stray from trading there. Y/n comes in silently, sitting next to Amal. It was another obvious clue as to exactly how long she had survived in the woods. Her tread was soundless. Had she decided to simply outlive the others in the arena, you’re sure she could have done so.

“How did the interviews go?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t get much feedback. I’ll ask Enobaria later.”

Everyone decides to cook some food up for the two houses. Its seems like a simple breakfast food dish, but the smell that it creates makes you almost salivate. The others fill in as you all finish up. Mallory even has alcohol ready for Haymitch. He actually makes friendly conversation. They have fully accepted each other as family in one sense or another. You stop paying attention when you begin to eat. The voices all intermingle and you drown most of it out. Or you try to. Usually so many people around ends up making you nervous.

Brutus elbows you, forcing you to refocus. You only return his glare but listen to Cashmere as she calls out your name again, “You okay, Cato?”

“Sorry.” You mumble. “What did you say again?”

“Well, I’ve been tired of being cooped up here so I thought it might be nice to go out. I hear the music is completely different here. I was thinking Friday maybe? It would be nice for all of us to go. What do you think?”

Sounds miserable, but you know she’s beginning your public appearances. “Sure. Would be nice to get out of the house, see a different side to 12.”

Y/n smirks, “Tsk. Well, it wont be all that fancy but it is a fun time.”

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

“A few times. I did have some friends outside of my cousin.”

“Yeah, she used to sneak out to go dancing.” Mallory teases

She rolls her eyes, “I only went out a few times. Enjoying the little times I saw anyone that wasn’t strictly business. Besides, all of my old school mates treat me like I have the plague now. It could be good to try and show I havent changed all that much.”

Except she had, no one contradicts her but even she knows it. It was ridiculous of course, to think she only contained herself to the woods. She wasn’t forced to train for the games. But the thought of her missing her old life springs to your mind again. You listen to her stories. The music that is supposed to be banned plays on random days. No one trusts anyone with association with the capitol here, you wonder how she ended up getting the information. You think of your time at the hob. How everyone seemed to know one another. You wondered if she forced herself to buy things there just to gain their trust back. You thought about Darius and how he had kissed her, and you actively have to work to keep the scowl off of your face. You wondered if some of peacekeepers took shifts so as to not get anyone in any real trouble.

The rest of the day is a blur. Plans, conversations, nothing seems to stick out in your mind. You’re relieved when everyone disperses. And even more so when Y/n whispers for you to go to her whenever you can. You wait until you’re sure everyone has at least gone to their rooms before going to find her. You barely knock, terrified of being ordered to go sleep elsewhere.

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You seem upset.”

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

“Mostly. This just…it doesn’t end you know? We’ll have to keep this up forever.”

“I know. Whatever happens we will need to prove to the Capitol we’re together. Could you do that? For that long?”

“Could you?”

“Yes.” You realize you were terrified of any other answer. You decide this cannot keep happening, the same conversation, the same worries making you doubt your plan. You can worry another day. You lay down next to her, ask her to get closer. You decide you wont try anything again. Not until you’re in front of the cameras. Just in case. But keeping eachother company you would allow. If only for your own sanity.

The days go on and Friday is upon you quickly. Y/n’s brothers go on ahead, making sure the music wouldn’t stop because of you and the rest of the victors presence. The group watches as the people dance around you. A few peacekeepers get visibly nervous but slowly let loose as well. Y/n makes small talk with some people around her, offering whatever money she has on her to several of the people who work at the hob. Some stands are still open and you find yourself buying a bracelet similar to yours. You rejoin the group for awhile, Y/n dances with her brothers once, and once with Darius. You try not to let that one bother you, especially since he asks several people to dance with him. She gets all of you to try the faster paced dance movements, Cashmere does exceptionally well. You... do not. You all sit and enjoy other people dancing when Cashmere nods to you. Now or never, you brace yourself as you lean over to whisper in Y/n’s ear.

‘I think its time.’ She smiles and nods and the two of you walk to the farther end of where people are sitting. Close enough plenty of eyes would be on you and far away enough it looks like you both want to speak privately. You take a deep breath, there's no going back now.

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Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun @themedsaintworkin @tiktoks-aphrodite @fredweasleysgirl16 @callsign-haze @thestrals-and-firewiskey @dreamsarenicer

#hunger games fic #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cato hunger games #hunger games cato #cato imagine #cato x reader

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