you didn't have a favourite colour up until you met him
pairings: mick schumacher x fem!reader
word count: 1136
notes: i actually am so down bad for this man right now, don't really know what to tell you, so here i am with a short blurb for the man, the myth, the legend... also not THAT great so let me just skrrt skrrt
(f1 masterlist)
first dates, well, they're never easy. unless it's from a recommendation of your aunt's husband. she had gushed on and on about the man she was trying to set you up and while you were hesitant at first, hearing her husband talk about how amazing the guy is, you finally agreed.
you still remember, all those years ago, the unfortunate way that it had gone wrong for you and the man sitting next to you in his best suit. you press your lips together as you fumble with the lace of your dress, speakers booming with a monotonous voice as you tried to fight off the boredom that is unfortunately getting the best of you.
you drop your head slightly to glance at him, smiling slightly when he notices your stare. mick reaches over for your hand, squeezing it slightly before intertwining your hands. you remember when you used to pray, despite never being religious in your life, that you would never forget the way his blue eyes shine.
you remember how your car had broken down en route to the restaurant your uncle had asked you to drive to, telling you that he made the reservation under mick's name. you had to call your uncle for help, who was unfortunately out of town with your aunt, so the only person left to save you was mick.
you watched as his car drove up to yours in the dark of the night, you leaning against the trunk of your car. you pushed yourself off as he came to a stop right by you.
"are you okay?" he asked you, shutting the car of his door behind him. you had to take a step back to fully process the man that is approaching you. his pictures clearly didn't do him much justice, because he looks much better up close. "i called the tow truck, but it's going to take a while."
you smiled at him, at the time, only very thankful for the way he came to you without another question. "thank you so much for coming to me. mick, right?"
he nodded at you with a smile. "and you're hanna's niece, right? (y/n)?"
"yes, that's me." you offered your hand out to shake his, which he does take, surprisingly.
"i hope you didn't wait for too long," he muttered, turning away from you. he opened the door to the back of his car and reached in for something. "i was calling the tow truck for you and they told me they'd be a while."
you tried to take a peek at what he's reaching into. but he's quick with his actions, turning around to show you what's in his hands. it's a paper bag and a plastic bag with two cups in it. "we'll miss our reservation, and it's dinner - i assumed you're just as hungry as i am. i got us food to eat in the meantime."
you remember your heart skipping a beat when he laid it all out on the trunk of his car. it was just some fast food takeout, but you remember the way your heart felt warm when he pat the hood of his car for you to take a seat on.
"are you sure? your car looks expensive - i don't want to damage it," you said, shaking your hand.
in return, mick hopped on it first. he pats the empty spot on the other side of the hood for you to hop on. "don't worry about it."
you sat on the hood of that car for the better part of the next 3 hours. when the towing company told mick they would take a while, they were not kidding. neither you nor mick knew what exactly to talk about while you indulged yourself in a simple meal of burger and fries.
hour one was filled with food and small talk, both of you trying to properly navigate how comfortable you can get with your questions. you were still on opposite ends of the hood at the time.
hour two was when mick would keep the trash from your simple meal. you sat slightly closer to him, shoulders brushing as you indulged yourself in a conversation about the one thing you know about him: race cars. eventually, you talked about your relations to hanna and sebastian, and were curious why you'd never been to a race.
you would admit that you'd never been a big fan of cars, making it a point to gesture towards your beat-up vehicle that objectively ruined your date. he laughed, throwing his head back, and argued that this date was a nice change instead of sitting in a fancy restaurant for hours hunched over the table and trying to fit the stereotypes of a first date.
hour three, you found yourself a lot closer to mick. your shoulders are now touching and the conversation flowed way more naturally than you initially thought. he seemed to be more down-to-earth than you expected, admittedly scared away by the fact that his father is a very big name everywhere.
"okay, this is a stupid question," mick started, turning to you slightly.
"no question is stupid on a first date," you shook your head with a small smile. "what is it?"
"what's your favourite colour?"
you were stumped for the first time that night. you thought for a few seconds, looking ahead at the dead road as you debated in your head if you actually had one. mick would pipe down and slump his shoulders as he watches you think.
"i don't actually-" you turned your head to look at him, feeling your words catch in your throat when your eyes met his. you would feel this churning in your stomach as you looked at him, his eyes innocently staring into yours with his eyebrows raised to urge you for an answer.
you would sigh shakily as you answered him. "it's blue."
ever since then, blue has been your favourite colour. not just any blue - it has to be the specific shade that mick's eyes are. the dreamy and captivating blue that you would come to know and love for as long as you've known him.
before you know it, you stand at the end of the chapel with a mic in your hands. you glance over mick's shoulder, catching sebastian's proud smile before you return your eyes to the man who got on his knee for you.
"and actually," you say, as you wrap up your vows, "on our first date, you asked me what's my favourite colour." you look up with a small smile.
"i actually didn't have one. i said blue, because they're the colour of your eyes. i've never seen blue the same ever since," you smile. "i could probably live in it now."
Rating: Explicit
Ships: Finnick Odair x OFC (primary), various background relationships
Summary:
There is an indefinite loneliness in being the daughter of a victor, coupled with so much expectation. It doesn't matter that the sea is stained red each year. Her place in it is obvious.
Ceres Osprey's plans are simple: volunteer for the Hunger Games, win, and become something beyond a legacy.
But in the throes of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick Odair, her greatest adversary and only friend, being reaped and consequentially winning was not part of these great plans.
Her hand is stayed for his sake, because they share a similar loneliness.
Promises are made.
But as the sun rises on the 68th Hunger Games' reaping, Ceres forgets her promises. She knows how to play the game and to survive, but it isn't about her.
This time, it isn't about winning.Some legacies are greater than others, even if it means her blood spills for it.
This spans in parts from the 58th to prominently the 68th Hunger Games.
