#if people didn't even need money to survive in the first place and people were free to pursue art and stuff if they wanted to without worry

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[organic-bloodbath]

No more secrets

Hwang In-ho x Wife!Reader

Summary: You're In-ho's wife, but know nothing about him being the Frontman. Without his knowledge, you've been taken to play the games too. One night he explains everything to you about being the Frontman.

A/N: This was a request i got, i hope you like 🫶🏻 I haven't written about him before so i wasn't sure how to portray him here. This also became a lot longer than how i originally thought it would turn out.

♡♡♡

Your husband was lying to you about something. You knew he wasn't telling you everything, but every time you asked about it, he would just deny that there was anything going on.

He told you that he'd soon be leaving for a 'work trip' and would be back home in a week. He didn't tell you any details, nothing about what it was even about, he was really dodgy about the situation. You knew it wasn't just a work trip, something was going on and you had to find out what.

♡♡♡

You were in a large field with hundreds of other people, all dressed in identical green tracksuits, including you. People were getting shot, the ground was full of blood and fresh corpses.

You were running towards the finish line behind everyone else, until you fell on your back when someone pushed you, running past you and not caring about your life at all. You winced and held your head as you sat up and realized too late what you had just done.

You had moved.

You had moved when the giant doll was scanning for any movements in the area. You were going to die and so was your unborn child. Someone was going to shoot you to death and you buried your face into your hands, as if that would prevent you from getting shot. A few people here and there were being eliminated and you waited for your turn.

But it didn't come. The doll had turned around and the players continued running. Had they missed you? Not noticed that you hadn't stayed still?

"Psst," someone said next to you. "You better get up if you want to get to the finish line and live."

He was right, you were far behind from everyone else and if you didn't start running soon, you'd be dead for being too slow.

♡♡♡

The Frontman was sitting on his leather couch, watching the game on the big screen and sipping whiskey. When the first player had moved, a chaos ensued and people started running around in panic, bullets dropping them down one by one. In-ho's favorite part of this game was the players realizing what 'being eliminated' meant for them.

Then, his heart stopped and he almost spilled the whiskey on his black suit. He saw someone familiar among the players.

Y/N. His own wife was taking a part in the games. How the hell had she ended up here?!

Just a few minutes ago he was enjoying the show, relaxing and taking a bet in his mind how many players would survive through the game. But then there was you who had no idea what you had just gotten into.

No, no, no, no - this wasn't happening.

He needed to know why someone allowed her to come here and why he wasn't aware of it. He had seen all the files of the players, all of them. You weren't even in any debts, Hwang In-ho knew that, so how was it possible you were pulled here? Someone had stripped you and put the same green tracksuit on you as everyone else.

Maybe he was seeing things. Player 002. That was your number. Maybe she just looked like you. The camera which was recording this game had done a close-up on a few players and it was enough to recognise you.

He wasn't going to let you stay here and play these games. This wasn't your place to be, this was meant for people who needed money urgently and had no other choice.

♡♡♡

The moment you saw your husband walk through the crowd, anger rose inside you. You wanted to hit him, kick him, throw all sorts of insults at him for lying to you.

Your eyes met, about thirty metres between you two. You were the first one to start walking towards him and he came to you half way.

"What the hell is going on, In-ho?!" you shouted, not caring how many people heard and how much of it.

"Y/N, please-"

"'Y/N please', just tell me what on earth you're doing here? What is this place? Is this your so called 'work trip', hm?"

Another man was near him, looking at the two of you, confused but not wanting to intervene what was going on.

"I didn't want to tell you because you'd only get worried and-"

"Worried? Worried?! You came to a place where you could be killed! You didn't tell me anything where you were going!"

"How are you here?"

"I tried to follow you."

"Follow me?"

"You were hiding something from me, for weeks you were acting so suspicious and i needed to know what was going on," you explained, standing so close to him that you could smell his breath and barely letting yourself to breathe between the words, you wanted to get everything out of you as fast as possible.

"I would have explained everything after i'd come back."

"Well sorry i didn't know that because you don't talk to me anymore." You stepped back and started pacing back and forth, fingers brushing through your hair. You took a few deep breaths to calm down before looking at him again. "But what if you hadn't come back anymore? What if you got killed? Would i ever know about that?"

He stepped closer to you again and wrapped his arms around you, even though you tried to resist at first.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, i truly am," he apologized with a sincere voice and then made you look at him again. "But like everyone else, i didn't know i was going to die and i really needed to get more money to pay off a few debts."

You looked at him for a moment until just stormed away and left him stand there alone.

♡♡♡

At night while lying on your bed, you were gently rubbing your bare stomach, as if trying to comfort your baby that everything was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. The baby's dad was going to be okay.

You would get back home, all three of you, and continue your life like before.

Who were you fooling? Nothing was the same anymore. In-ho had abandoned you for money, lied to you because of money, not giving you attention all because of more money.

Your baby was three months old by now and you could see the bump but it could still be hidden under your shirt and jacket well enough. You hadn't told In-ho yet, you should have told him weeks ago.

But he had put everything else before you in the past couple of months. You were also scared to tell him, especially now because you thought he would be mad at you for not telling him sooner that he was going to be a father. You had waited for a moment where he would notice you again and spare a moment of his busy day just for you, but that day had never seemed to come anymore.

Now thinking about it - he had no right to be mad at you for not telling him. Still, you were nervous, and being trapped in this place didn't help it at all.

It took you almost an hour, but eventually you fell asleep and it was one of the worst night's sleeps you'd had during the pregnancy.

♡♡♡

You were safe. In-ho had made sure that you stayed safe. He argued with the guards for an hour how it was possible to allow his own wife to get involved as a player but nobody knew any details. But somehow they had tricked the system in the first game that the doll ignored any movements you had made.

But what's done is done. He couldn't get you out of the game by just letting you leave while everyone else stayed. Majority of people wanted to stay here, according to the votes, they needed the money for their own good and didn't care about any casualties that didn't involve themselves.

You were mad at him and he understood why. But he couldn't tell you about the game and how all his time was spent to plan everything out. What if he had told you all about these games? Would you still love him or would it make you leave? You were his entire world, much more important than these games.

But he wasn't able to quit, not now, not yet. It would absolutely ruin him if you packed your bags and never wanted to see him again.

He would make sure that you will get out of here and back home, no matter what. And he'd have to tell you everything eventually, and that thought terrified him, seeing how angry you had been earlier.

♡♡♡

"You doing alright?" Gi-hun asked the next morning when you had woken up, taking careful steps towards you as if you were going to bite him if he approached you too fast.

"Yeah, fantastic."

"Listen, i don't want to meddle between you two because i don't know either of you well, but we'll have to work together to get through these games," Gi-hun explained. "The most important thing now is to survive and get through the games so we can get out of here as fast as possible."

He was right, of course there had to be one man to talk sense to the rest of the group.

"I know, i know," you sighed. "It's just been hard for me lately and he hasn't shown appreciation to me and we don't communicate anymore."

"In-ho seems like a good man," Gi-hun admitted. "And none of us told our friends or family members that we would be joining the games, it wasn't allowed to spread the information to outsiders. Please, don't blame him, not right now."

You slightly nodded. "You're right, thank you, Gi-hun."

"Let's go eat before the next game starts, okay?"

♡♡♡

After you had passed the second game, you were getting a little suspicious of him once again.

It was only a small thing which nobody else probably noticed, but why did he throw the toy with his right hand? He failed several times, but succeeded immediately when he threw it with his left hand. You had always known he was left-handed.

It was like he was wasting time on purpose to leave your victory to the last second and it pissed you off. However, you had passed the game so you decided to leave it be - for now.

You woke up at night and had to go to the bathroom.

"Please, i really need to go," the small girl from your group pleaded.

"Nobody is allowed to leave the area at this hour."

"I need go too, just let us through. We'll only take a few minutes," you said, tired to argue about getting to go to pee.

The guard looked at you through the glass for a short moment until opened the door without further questions.

"5 minutes."

You were surprised and Jun-hee looked at you in even more shock but hurried inside.

You came out of your stall after couple of minutes and was about to go wash your hands when you heard crying and sniffing from one of the other stalls.

"Hey," you said and knocked on the pink door. "Hey, you good?"

No answer, only quiet sobs.

Oh my god don't you dare to start giving birth right now, you started thinking inside your head. You were not going to start delivering a baby in the bathroom while guards with guns were telling you to hurry up.

"Hey, can you open the door?"

But the door wasn't locked, as you had thought, and it opened easily, showing the girl crying, her cheeks wet from the tears and eyes red. You kneeled down in front of her and held her hands in her lap.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain? Is it something to do with the baby?"

"I'm scared," she sniffed. "I want to go home."

Your heart broke just by looking at her.

"We'll get you home, i promise," you said. "We'll all go home and you'll be able to raise your child."

"You promise?" she asked, looking at you directly in the eyes.

"I promise. I'm pregnant too."

Jun-hee stopped crying for a moment and looked at you, shocked. "You are?" she gasped and looked towards your stomach. You nodded with a weak smile. "How far are you?"

"3 months."

"And the dad...?" she started. "Is it the man in our group? In-ho?" She wasn't sure if she remembered his name correctly.

"Yeah, he doesn't know yet," you said and felt ashamed.

"You should tell him. Soon. We don't know how much time we have left here," she encouraged.

"Stop it, we have all the time in the world."

But she was right, you had to tell him as soon as you could.

You got up and put your arms around Jun-hee, brushing her back with your hand to try to calm her down a little bit. It seemed to help after a little while.

"Time's up," a guard said behind the door.

"Just a second," you yelled and turned back to Jun-hee. "You good to go back?" She nodded and wiped the remaining tears from her face. "Come on, let's go. If you need anything, just come to me, okay?"

You were on your way back to your bed, when you saw In-ho walk away from his bunk. You were confused, since he wasn't going to the bathroom, it was a different door where the players never went and weren't allowed to.

You quietly walked towards the same door where your husband has sneaked into. A guard stood in front of you, stopping you.

"That area is forbidden from players at this time, go back to sleep," the guard instructed but you weren't having it.

"Funny, since a certain player just went in there," you said and put your hands on your hips. "Now tell me where he went or i'll cause a scene."

"Player 002, go back to your bed, you'll see him in the morning."

"I am not leaving anywhere before you take me to my husband."

"Please, player-"

"I said now."

You were standing right in front of the guard, mere inches between you two. Eventually, since there was no way you weren't going to give up and would cause a massive scene, he hesitantly opened the door and let you in.

The guard started walking upstairs and through several corridors you haven't been in before, you walking behind him and starting to internally freak out what was going on.

You ended up in front of a large door and the guard hesitated for a moment, until he glanced at you and knocked on the door.

When the door was opened, your beloved husband was standing there, looking at you with a terrified face.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Sir, i'm sorry but she insisted-"

In-ho grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room past the guard.

"Go back to your duties," In-ho commanded the guard.

"Yes, sir," was the only response the guard gave and then hurried to leave. In-ho closed the door.

Looking around the room, it looked like an office and it was only you and him in the room, nobody else. You crossed your arms against your chest.

"Now tell me exactly what the hell is going on. And no more lies or excuses - nothing. You're going to tell me the truth about everything or you can say goodbye to me."

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Just please let me explain."

And he did tell you everything. His involvement in the games, being a former winner, becoming a Frontman and everything he could think of.

Your face was horrified, you two had been together for the past 5 years, married 3 of those years and he had basically lived a double life and keeping everything a secret from you?

All those 'work trips' he had used as excuses over the years made now much more sense, all the pieces were connecting to each other and falling into their places.

"I understand if you hate me right now, despise me or however you feel about these games - i understand," he explained, letting out a deep sigh. He took your hand in his and looked at you directly in the eyes, his dark eyes mixed with several emotions all at once. "I was afraid to tell you because i feared you would leave me and stop loving me."

"I could never stop loving you, no matter what, In-ho," you said and put your hand on his cheek. "I said it in my wedding vows too, i'll always love you until the day i die. In good and in bad, yes?"

Of course you weren't fine with this. These games were brutal, almost barbaric. But you loved In-ho more than anything in the world and you were fighting with yourself how you could learn to be okay with this.

"I just... i just need time to think these things through," you said, then taking a deep breath and taking his hands in yours, just like he had done to you only a moment ago. "Now that we're talking openly, there's something i must tell you and should have told you a lot earlier."

"Yes?" he said, encouraging you to continue when you had fallen silent for a few seconds.

"I'm pregnant," you revealed, it was almost a whisper but he had heard you, loud and clear.

"You... You're what?" he gasped, looking at your stomach and then back to your eyes.

You brought his left hand on your stomach.

"We're going to have a baby, my love," you told him.

He looked like he was about to cry and pulled you into a tight hug. You knew he wanted to become a dad, had wanted for a long time but you hadn't been able to become pregnant before, no matter how much you tried.

He held your face in his hands, kissed you and then looked into your eyes.

"I'm going to be a dad," he whispered, as if it sounded too good to be true.

"And i'm going to be a mother," you said back. "To your baby."

You stayed there for a long time, until both of you were forced to go back to your beds.

♡♡♡

The Mingle game had started and you were all spinning on a huge carousel. In-ho was holding your hand, squeezing it hard.

When it was time to choose 4 people to find a room together, you and In-ho were separated. People were pushing and pulling each other and the time was running out.

Everything happened so fast.

The time ran out and In-ho had ended up in a room with three other players. And you? You were left outside, still on the carousel which was now stopped.

The pink guards shot the remaining players, pleading for help and to spare their life, but their cries were for nothing. You looked on your right and saw Jun-hee standing there too, looking at you with a terrified face.

One of the pink guards came in front of you, the black gun in his arms.

♡♡♡

The plan to get you out of there was simple. You were going to fake your death and In-ho was going to act all heart broken for the loss of both his wife and his unborn child. He would act like only a shell of a man who he had used to be. Anything to convince Gi-hun and others that his wife was dead and he blamed it all on himself.

You only had one requirement for doing this. One wish that In-ho had to make happen or you weren't going to cooperate anymore.

To let Kim Jun-hee go home with you. Let her go as well and raise her child in safety. You knew she wouldn't otherwise survive to the end and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you left and she stayed.

You also made In-ho promise that she'd get her share of money and wouldn't leave this place empty handed. In-ho had gotten protective over Jun-hee during the short time she had been here, so even though he was reluctant to let any player out of here without all of them leaving, he allowed Jun-hee to go with you.

They would need to keep an eye on her for some time, to make sure that she wasn't going to do anything funny regarding to the games but you trusted her.

Before you left that night, In-ho came to see you one more time before he'd eventually come home too the next week.

"I love you," In-ho said, holding you tightly in his arms. He took your face into his hands and pulled you into a passionate kiss, kissing you like he was going to a year long war, but it was only going to be a few days anymore, under a week.

"I love you too," you said, couple of tears running down your cheeks.

Now, you and the girl were free to go. The guards escorted you out of there and you were taken back home. They didn't gas you or Jun-hee, in case the gas would harm the babies, but they did blindfold both of you, just in case you wanted to do something stupid and reveal the location to others - which you certainly weren't going to do.

The fact that so many other people stayed there to try and stay alive just to win money made you feel bad. But they were allowed to quit if they really wanted to. The game would be possible to end if the majority wanted it but they decided to stay.

You had to focus on your baby and prepare a good life for him or her, give them a nice and healthy life with you and their father who promised to quit the games after these were over.

He wouldn't take the job as the Frontman ever again, he had to move on and raise his child with the woman he loved the most in the world - you

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[insidekatmind]

Forgiveness~Lee Myung-gi

Wearning: angst and sweet

Request: yes!

Myung-gi had accepted the invitation because he had no choice. The debt from cryptocurrencies was suffocating him, and with a baby on the way, your baby ,he knew he had to do something. From the moment he decided to participate, he had started avoiding you. He did it to protect you, to spare you pain, but the absence hurt just the same.

When he woke up in that sterile room, classical music echoed in his ears. Around him were rows of bunk beds and confused faces. He no longer had his clothes, nor his personal belongings. He felt lost. Then, among the crowd, his eyes landed on you.

He had found you.

Without thinking, he rushed toward you, his heart pounding in his chest. But you ignored him. Completely. As if he didn’t exist.

Three days passed like that. Myung-gi watched you from a distance, torn between the relief of seeing you alive and the fear of what was coming next. He knew you had survived the first two games, but the third was approaching, and just the thought of it terrified him. He wanted to talk to you, to come closer, but he didn’t want to add more stress to an already unbearable situation.

Then the third game began.

They called it Mingle. The players had to stand on a spinning platform, forming groups based on the number announced by the robotic voice. Those who failed would be eliminated.

Chaos erupted. Pushing, shouting, desperation. Myung-gi moved quickly, trying not to be trampled. When the number “2” was announced, panic reached its peak. And then he saw you.

You were alone. Your group had abandoned you at the last second.

Without thinking, he ran to you. People were shoving and fighting to save themselves, but he couldn’t afford to waste time. He grabbed your wrist and, with all his strength, pulled you toward one of the safe rooms, pushing aside anyone who tried to get in his way.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the door locked with a metallic click. You were trapped inside. Alive.

Myung-gi was breathing heavily, but his grip on you softened. For a long moment, he just stared into your eyes, as if trying to memorize your face.

“I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with emotion.

He was still holding your wrist, but gently now. He had so many questions, but only one certainty: you were never supposed to be there.

You sighed and hugged him. He was surprised by your reaction, but he didn't hesitate. He closed his arms around you, bringing you close to him. He could feel your heart pounding against his chest.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. It felt like a lifetime since he had been so close to you, since he had held you like that. The familiar warmth of your body against his was both comforting and torture.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away just enough to look at you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of protectiveness and guilt."You shouldn't be here," he whispered, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingers.

His touch was gentle, as if he were afraid to hurt you. But there was also a certain possessiveness in the way he held you, as if he were trying to carve your presence into his memory.

“I needed the money for the baby,” you whispered. His expression darkened as you mentioned the reason behind your presence in that infernal place. Anger, fear and regret all twisted on his face.

"You shouldn't have come. It's too dangerous. Especially in your condition."He put a protective hand on your stomach, as if trying to shield the baby growing inside from harm.

You could see the worry etched in his features.

"What if something happened to you both? What if I lost you..." his words trailed off, too afraid to even voice the thought.

He pulled back, his eyes roaming over your face, as if trying to convince himself you were really there, physically unharmed.He let out a deep sigh, trying to control the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"But you're here now," he said, his voice firmer now. "And I won't let anything happen to either of you. I promise."You smiled and hugged him.

The moment you smiled, some of the tension in his body released. He held you tighter, burying his face in the curve of your neck."God, I've missed you," he murmured against your skin. "I didn't know if I'd ever hold you again."

He nuzzled your hair, his hand rubbing circles on your back.

"I'm sorry," he eventually said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm so sorry for everything. For disappearing. For not being there for you. For putting you in this situation."

“I forgive you,” you whispered.

Your words, soft and soothing, made his chest tight. He closed his eyes, a wave of relief crashing over him.

"Thank you," he responded, his voice cracking. "I don't deserve it, but thank you."He pulled back to look at your face, searching your eyes. He could see the forgiveness in your gaze, the kindness you could still have for him despite everything. It only made his regret more profound.

[lovesim09]

White Star

I know the fandom often makes fun of White Star. However, when it comes to power and influence, it is a terrifying opponent. It cannot be forgotten that in the original timeline, White Star first appeared 20 years after the beginning of the war in front of Choi Han. Nothing happened only thanks to regressor. We also saw the diary of the God of Death, a lot of people should have died. In the original timeline Roan kingdom would be destroyed, the Whipper kingdom would lose to the Empire. Jungle would be under the rule of Elisneh. It's likely that many places would be destroyed by dead mana because of the Empire. The dragons we met would be dead. Bud would probably have been killed too, after all, White Star was hunting him. The whales had a war with the mermaids, but it is possible that they later lost. White Star would have the most powerful ancient powers. After all, he was trying to obtain Sky Eating Water and we know how powerful this power is. It's better not to mention the balance of the 5 attributes. Additionally, it has races with a dark attribute on its side. He managed to gain a lot of sacrifice, so his Sky attribute would be more powerful than what we have seen. He has its own kingdom, and Kingdoms that work with him.He also got rid of two dangerous people, Saint and Holy Maiden. There is no one who can use the artifact left by the Sun God. The corrupt Church would realize too late how dangerous the enemy is, it is impossible for them to sacrifice their lives to purify dead mana. It was obvious what their reaction would be after we already seen their reaction when Prince Valentino asked for help. There is also no one who can use fire of destruction, because the person who took this power was an elf, a person with no money and without correct acquired power. The world tree would be destroyed and replaced by a new tree controlled by him. There would also be no weapon capable of completely destroying his soul.

There is something that seems interesting to me. The proposal the God of Death gave to Choi Jung Soo. Nameless 1 already had Choi Han, since a second Single Lifers is needed. That could mean Choi Han lost. It's possible that he didn't die, but something worse happened to him. From being controlled by illusions to becoming a Half Blood-like monster or becoming a demon. It is possible that hunters could have killed him later. CJS preferred to sacrifice his life to his closest family. KRS has become someone whose future cannot be predicted. Thanks to this, KRS has become someone who can change the future of others. KRS read the book with the necessary information. Besides, he had the power, intelligence, experience. It's not that WS was an idiot, this person was terrifying. He managed to guess that Cale was a transmigrator, that the person in this body wasn't the real Cale. Even if the other theories were wrong. We have to remember how unlikely it is that he is someone from another world. After all, he had too much information. While it is laughable to say that Cale works with the Gods, he was actually partly right. Cale was sent to this world by the God of Death, and the God likes him and offered him the position of a saint. Even thank to God he gained the power that allowed him to imprison White Star. White Star lost because Cale had help from God and was loved by nature. And so Cale is someone that nature likes, elementals are part of nature, the world tree has lost branches for him many times, even gave him the oldest root. Dragons liked him because of his power and character. Elves were interested in him many times because of 5 attributes, so different from each other. He did not discriminate against any race, so even the necromancers and dark elves cooperated with him. Of course, Cale is also someone who survived the apocalypse, he managed to become someone strong even in such circumstances. Even White Star who lived for 1000 years couldn't compare to how many difficult and demanding missions Cale completed while he was still in his old body. Because White Star has always had the power, he never had to fear that the monster would eat him, that if he lost, the people he protected would be next. I can say with confidence that Cale has a lot more experience even if he didn't live as long. Compared to White Star, Cale never took the easy path. I would also like to talk about the powers of these two, but that's for another time.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their reaction to your terrible burn on your face🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

Summary: Here will be your background. You had a disaster as a child. You got into an accident, after which you had a big burn on your face, which was on the left side, started from the forehead and ended almost near the nose, as the burn was strong enough, your left eye had to be removed. After that, people began to humiliate you and call you a monster. You started covering your burn with your hair, but it looked ridiculous, but you couldn't find any other way. Soon you were given a chance to have a skin and eye transplant, but this is a very expensive operation, you didn't have enough money. Therefore, you decided to agree to the offer to play games.

Warning: easy agnst, deviations from the plot.

A/N: I don't know if I managed to write normally, so I apologize in advance!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

You met the girl at the second game when she invited you to her team. You liked her right away, Hyun Ju was brave, sweet and very beautiful. After the second game, you and the guys decided to get to know each other better. Everyone told his story and why he decided to play deadly games. You learned from Hyun Ju that she is a trans girl and saves money for operations and Thailand, after that you liked her even more, it looks like you fell in love. But then it was your turn, everyone looked at you, waiting for you to tell. But you were afraid. You were afraid that they would turn away from you when they saw your ugly face, so you decided to leave the conversation.

- Oh... I'm sorry, I need to go to the toilet. - you quickly went to the toilet, leaving everyone looking at you with surprise.

- I think she was afraid to tell the reason.. - Young Mi said quietly, Hyun Ju also thought, so she followed you.

When she entered the room, she saw you standing near the mirror and crying, looking into it.

- How ugly I am... - you said without noticing the presence of another girl at all, only after Hyun Ju slowly approached you, you saw her and immediately began to hide your burn with your hair.

- You shouldn't be afraid of me. And shouldn't be afraid of face. - she turned you to her and carefully took you by the chin, looking at your face much better.

- Don't look..

- Tell me everything, I won't turn away from you. You'll feel much better. - and you gave up.

You told her your whole story, she listened carefully without interrupting, and when you finished, she very gently began to kiss the areas of your burn and the place where the eye used to be, you almost cried even more.

- Don't worry, I'll be next to you. And no one else will hurt you.

She didn't lie, you were able to get out of the game with her. Both paid off their debts and made the missing operations. Now you are preparing to move to Thailand, where you can get married and live happily.

Kang Dae Ho

You were able to survive the first game, although it barely worked out because you couldn't see everything with one eye.

A new day has come, the second game will start soon, and so far everyone has been given breakfast. But you didn't want to eat. You had no appetite. And you didn't want to contact people, you were afraid that everyone would see your burn and start laughing, so you sat alone.

But then your peace was disturbed by the guy who sat next to you, you tried not to pay attention to him.

- Hi, why are you sitting here alone?

- What does it matter to you? - you answered a little rudely.

- I just decided to get acquainted, I liked you in the first game. So why are you sitting alone? - he asked softly that you even began to believe in his sincerity, so you decided to immediately show him what you always hide and see what he will say later.

You quickly removed the hair on the left side of your face and he saw your burn, after which you hid it again.

- So what? Don't you like me now?

- No, I like you. Is it because of him that you don't want to meet someone?

- Yes, because usually people laugh at me when they see my burn and the absence of an eye. I was so sick of it that I decided to communicate less. - the guy gently stroked your head that you were even slightly embarrassed by his gesture.

- What fools. I'm Kang Dae Ho, now you have a friend who will protect you. - he smiled broadly, you realized that he was not lying, something told you that the guy would never betray you.

- And I'm Y/N.

- Beautiful name! Let's go for breakfast? You still need to gain strength before the game, don't worry, I'll be with you now.

And he was with you until the very end.

Kang Sae Byeok

You sat quietly and eat a very modest dinner. How three men approached you. You were very scared.

- Hey, bitch, give me your food. - said one of them.

- But this is my food. Each of us was allocated the same amount. You've already eaten yours. It doesn't give the right to approach and take away from me! - but they only laughed at your words.

- If you don't want it in a good way, it will be bad. - after that, the second one came up to you and pushed you in the chest, causing you to fall to the floor, along with your dinner.

- Fuck, what have you done! What was the point of pushing her? Now eat from the floor yourself.

- Ahahahaha, look at her face! - because of the fall, they had a view of your whole face, they could see your scar and you wanted to cry from this humiliation, because they looked at you and poked their finger, laughing.

- God, how scary you are!

- A nasty monster!

- Ahahaha, abomination, I even lost my appetite.

They could have humiliated you for a long time, but suddenly you heard a female voice.

- Hey, you freaks have moved away from her. - they turned around abruptly and saw a girl, player 067, who was looking at them with a murderous look.

- Oh, we don't need it. Let's go, guys, away from this horror. - they left, leaving you alone.

The girl came closer to you and stretched out her hand, which you immediately took.

- Don't pay attention. They don't know what they're talking about. And don't worry about the burn, you're still as sweet. - she left, leaving you alone.

After her words, you felt some lightness, player 067 was the first who did not humiliate you. In the following games you wanted to be a little closer to the girl and she seemed to let you do it.

Nam Gyu

You met the guy at the second game, when his team invited you to their place. You had to agree, because there was little time left. During the game, you accidentally showed your burn, it was noticed by players 230 and 124. The first one laughed, but the second one immediately hit him on the head. It even amused you a little.

After the game, you decided to take a nap, but you were prevented by player 124, who lay down on your bed without asking.

- Did something happen? - you didn't understand why he came, because you thought you were partners in one game.

- Excuse me, Thanos, he was just under the drugs and didn't think that there was no need to laugh.

- I'm used to it. And in general, I saw that you also took pills. - you said sarcastically, to which he smiled.

- And you're attentive, even with one eye. - You immediately looked at him angrily that he immediately fell silent.

- If that's all, you can go.

- No, not all. In general. You're pretty cute with this burn, you look like a superhero!

- You say it because of drugs, when the effect goes away, I'll be disgusting.

- Not at all! Believe me. - the guy said with plaintive eyes, you didn't understand what he needed from you, but he looked funny.

- Okay.

You agreed solely out of curiosity, but who knew that this jerk would be normal. If his friend talked about your burn, he immediately covered his mouth. Looks like he fell in love with you.

🩵🩵🩵

[kasagia]

Game of survival

Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!rebel! reader Summary: The worst enemy is the person who betrayed you when you trusted them with all your heart. The person you told all your secrets to, the person you loved more than your life—the best friend who suddenly turned on you and stabbed you in the back and right through your heart, using your weaknesses they learned with the time they spent with you. You and Coriolanus have been each other's worst enemies since that fateful day at the lake in District 12... Inspired by: Game of survival - Ruelle Warning: 18+; a little smut; Coriolanus chases you around his presidential palace; I had a completely different idea for it, but it turned out that way...; Enjoy!; Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You hold your breath as you sit on the roof of a building.

Through Sniper Rifle, you watch carefully as the president of Panem gets out of his car. You only see the outline of his bleached blonde hair before he disappears into his presidential palace. The car drives away, and peacekeepers start circulating around the building again. An impregnable fortress. Seemingly.

"I hope you have a plan." Joseph mumbles next to you, moving into position next to you. "We must act quickly tonight. Get in and out before the peacekeepers find out what are we going to do."

"First, you have to shoot him. I won't leave there without seeing the life drain from his eyes." You reply, preparing to leave the roof.

"Do not worry about it. Everyone would like to be in my place. I don't miss the target." He replies confidently, with an arrogance in his voice that you don't like. But you won't lecture him. The other hunter never liked being told how to do his job. You caught animals; he caught real people. He had more experience in this area than you. But could Coriolanus still be considered human?

"That's not what I'm thinking about. It's a game of survival. Him or us. You have to play it smart. Don't underestimate him just because he's from the Capitol, Jospeh."

"I bet he didn't even hold a gun in those well-groomed hands of his." You shudder. The screams of Sejanus and Lucy Gray echo in your head. Coriolanus' screams. The sounds made by mockingjays...

"I doubt it." You answer briefly and go out to the staircase.

You pass through several of its inhabitants before reaching the basement. Before you open one of the rooms, you look around to make sure you are alone in the residential basements. You quickly open and close the door behind you. You move the painting, some kind of marriage portrait of a general and his wife, and go through a hidden passage. It was a tunnel dug under the building, which led to a small room where the most important members of the rebellion slept. The rest were to arrive during the day. For a special evening event.

"You need to be more careful." Meg tells you as you return to base. "The peacekeepers seem to be breeding in their barracks. I saw twice as many of them on the streets as yesterday. And guess what?"

She slaps her hand flat on the table. You walk up and lean down, seeing the wanted poster for you. Alive, not dead. Whoever turned you in would get a ridiculous amount of money.

"I have a nicer jaw shape." You comment and pick up the wanted poster. You throw it in the air and aim the dagger at it, nailing it to the earthy wall of your shelter.

"I don't know what you did to Snow, but even his advisor, who ran his presidential campaign and defected to join us, isn't so... passionately wanted by him and his men as you are." She says, wincing when she can't get the dagger out of the wall. You roll your eyes and walk over to her, pulling out the dagger easily and handing it to her with a mocking smile.

"Old disagreements and a minor difference of opinion." You tell her, walking over to the map of the Capitol and the plan of the presidential palace. "I doubt he even remembers why he's so pissed at me. That was ages ago. 10 years. Maybe more. But as you can see, bastards like him hold grudges for a long time."

"People gossip, you know. That you are not suitable for this job. That you had some feelings for him that would make you hesitate to pull the trigger when necessary." She says, walking towards you. She places her hand on your back, making you look at her. "If you don't want to, don't say it. But I need to be completely sure that you won't betray us."

"I'm not the one who is supposed to kill him. We have Jospeh to do that. But believe me, if necessary, my hand won't shake. I am a hunter. My job is to kill. And an animal like him is well within my hunting range. He... he has done too much for me to feel sorry for him. And believe me, if anyone has a reason to kill him, it's me. I have something to take revenge for. So if you don't trust me, then trust my rage. After all, there is nothing like a mad woman, is there?" You ask, sending her a meaningful smirk.

And even though you pretend to be so confident in front of her and any other rebels, deep down, you know that it's not all that simple. Things between you and Coriolanus... were complicated. And anyone else in your situation would hate him with all their hearts, but you couldn't just stop loving him. Maybe you were actually weak, but if you learned anything from Coroilanus Snow, it was how to pretend to be stronger than others. Even when you were in a shitty situation.

"Good. Prepare yourself. We start at dusk. For the Districts."

"And for all the fallen. Let the odds be forever dead." You finish.

Meg nods and leaves you alone with the maps and plans. Your task was simple. Sneak through the guests at a masquerade party, get into his office, and plant a bomb. Just in case. Only if Joseph hadn't managed to kill him. You were also supposed to set a few other traps for President Snow. And since you were the best hunter in Panem, there was no one better for that job.

You've been preparing for this for months. You have figured out all the escape routes, emergency exits, peackeeper patrols, and their plans to secure the reception at the presidential palace.

Tonight, everything will be resolved, your past will be finally a closed past, whether you want it or not.

Either he or you will die tonight. And if you were sure about something, you were sure that you wouldn't pass away so easily.

You never expected that Coriolanus Snow would become your worst enemy.

Or at least that's what you think as you drive through the Capitol. You sit in the backseat, staring at the streets and people passing by, as your chauffeur and fellow rebel take you to your destination.

Ever since Lucy Gray returned from the Hunger Games, she has been praising her mentor. She said that the boy she met gave her invaluable support and help, and that if it weren't for him, she wouldn't have survived on her own in the arena.

Her stories make you imagine him as an angel. Blond curls, sky blue eyes, helping a poor girl from the district, a man with a good heart—everything fit. And you were confirmed in that belief when you saw him for the first time and realised how handsome he really was.

How were you supposed to know then that Coriolanus Snow was really an angel, but a fallen one? How could you recognise the devil through the disguise he had created for himself?

You were certainly not the first or the last to fall under his spell, to believe in the façade of a good man, to see him as a hurt boy who needed love and tenderness. At least you wanted to believe you weren't the only one naive enough to ignore all the clues and signs that he wasn't such a saint after all.

It started inconspicuously. Like all disasters. And you, having lived in District 12 for so long, knew very well what bad fate, misfortune, and catastrophe were.

But nothing could have prepared you for the coming of Coriolanus Snow.

He was charming. Oh God, and how much he was. Sejanus didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, but Snow picked up on every little detail, no matter how insignificant it may have been at first sight. Lucy Gray fell into Plinth's arms. And you became infatuated with a devil who seemed to be as observant as you.

"Lucy Gray's friends are my friends." The brunette guy says that and takes a step forward. You shift your cautious gaze to him, but he doesn't seem to notice that you're wary and reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Sejanus. Nice to meet you."

"Y/N." You say, removing your hand from his grip. "I used to say that too. And then she took me to feed her snakes. The poisonous ones. The worst 3 minutes of my life."

"3 minutes?" He asks curiously. You notice someone moving behind him—another man—who is whispering something to Lucy.

"She ran away screaming." Your friend giggles and throws her arm on Sejanus' shoulder. You roll your eyes at her as she laughs at you, not hiding the smile that begins to form on your lips.

"That's not true. I didn't scream. I saw a rabbit and went hunting." You mutter, feigning offence, which only intensifies her laughter.

"A hunter who is afraid of snakes?"

Someone's question distracts you from Lucy Gray. Behind her, you notice the man who was whispering something to her earlier. He steps out of her shadow and stands a few steps away from you. You look him up and down, and by the way Lucy is comfortable with the other peacekeeper and his appearance, you assume he must be her mentor. Coriolanus Snow. And damn her, he was really hot.

"I am afraid of what I have to be afraid of, private Snow. Just like a hunter should. You never know when the danger will come that you will turn from a predator to a prey." He watches you carefully, listening to your every word. And by the small smile he can't contain, you know that you've managed to make him curious and defend yourself enough for him not to discredit you.

"It's Coryo when we are among friends." He says this, nodding at you. He does not extend his hand to you like Sejanus did, nor does he attempt any other greeting that requires physical contact. Weird. You wonder if he would be attentive enough to sense your discomfort.

"We should get going. The Covey is probably waiting for us. Will you come tomorrow? I think we have a lot to talk about." The brunette asks them with a smile and stands on your other side, taking your arm.

"Su..."

"We will escort you." Coriolanus interrupts his friend, still looking at you. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you. There are... quite a lot of people hanging around here tonight." His gaze shifts to Lucy Gray for a moment, and he nods for her to lead.

"He may be a rebel, but he is also chivalrous. Come then, gentlemen." She laughs and places her other hand on the crook of Sejanus' elbow. Coriolanus adjusts and walks on your other side, maintaining an appropriate distance, so he is close but not touching you or brushing his arm against yours.

At one point, the crowd of people won't let you walk four in a row, so Lucy and Sejanus take the lead. You and Coryo follow behind them, a little apart. There's a strange silence between you. You shift your gaze to his, and you see that he is already watching you.

"I think I should thank you for saving her. It's not that easy to keep that tramp out of danger. And believe me, I know what I'm saying; I've known her since we were children."

"Yes, she is very… alive. But that was just my job as her mentor." He says this as you both walk down the dark streets. The moonlight and a few lanterns illuminate it so much that you can walk freely in the dark without tripping over any protruding stones.

"Was it also your duty to become a peacekeeper and come to 12?" Your question clearly surprises him. He didn't expect anyone to connect... the events or have the courage to ask him about it. Lucy Gray didn't do it. But you weren't Lucy Gray. You were better. And he was starting to see it.

"It wasn't... planned." He says this and clears his throat, looking at Lucy Gray and Sejanus laughing together about something. "But I'm not going to stay here long."

"Did you come here for her or for him?" You ask, seeing his jaw clench as he watches them both.

"None. I just had to do it." He responds dryly, clearly not wanting to talk about it further. You didn't know who he was jealous of, but you could recognise that feeling in others' eyes perfectly. And he was definitely jealous. You only wondered about what. About Lucy Gray, Sejanus, or just about what was between them?

"A lonely wolf. I see." You comment and turn your head towards the Hanging Tree.

Coriolanus takes the opportunity to get a better look at you. You don't have an outfit as bold and colourful as Lucy Gray. You were rather quiet and thoughtful. He couldn't' say that he wasn't captivated by the aura that his former tribute had around her, but he somehow found himself feeling better in the silence between the two of you than he ever felt around Lucy Gray and her wild personality.

You had also really beautiful eyes.

"And what about you?" He asks, wanting to get your attention again.

At first, he stayed close to you just to spite Lucy Gray, but after she obviously ignored him, he had no intention of talking to you anymore. But something about you drew him to you. And maybe it was your caution; maybe he wanted to break it and set it as a challenge, a distraction while he was in District 12, or maybe he just wanted attention? He did not know. It irritated him how much he wanted to see your eyes sparkling teasingly in the lamplight again. 

"Me?" You looked up at him, giving him your full attention. He almost smiled. Almost.

"Are you remaining here for her or for someone else? I know there is a need for good hunters in many other and better districts. Why are you stuck here when you could be hunting somewhere else? Have a better place to live?" He asks, unable to understand you.

You obviously didn't feel comfortable in District 12. No one could. And he knew from Lucy Gray's histories and his brief observation of your actions that someone like you, with your skills, could easily get a transfer to a wealthier district. But you didn't. He wanted to know why.

"What if I like it here?" You ask with a shrug. He frowns, looking around. You are passing by mouldy buildings, some houses are made of ood—you say it while they walk down the poorest alley in 12. Coriolanus believes he saw a rat running in front of you, but he doesn't want to think about it.

"Here?" He asks with disbelief and a hint of disgust in his voice, to which you giggle, almost laughing.

And instead of Coriolanus being offended and threatening you (he's a peacekeeper after all; he could make you spend a day in detention, and if you were anyone else, he definitely would do that), but somehow Snow can't do anything but smile, while admiring you.

However, he takes his eyes off you, even though he's tempted to look at you longer. He can't afford to have another weakness. To have another Lucy Gray. Although he doesn't think you'd push him away that easily for Sejanus or anyone else, like she did.

You and he were similar. Both of you were withdrawn, silent, observers, taking into account the threats. You did not play heroes with bravado and did not count on good luck, only on their own minds and skills.

"No, not here. I am not mad yet." You say, snapping him from his thoughts."The forests are beautiful. The fields. Rivers and lakes. The rest of Panem is industrialized. Concrete and factories everywhere. There is... a kind of peace here if you close your eyes to certain things. Maybe you will stay here long enough to find out about it by yourself." And something about you—the warm tone of your voice and the sparkles in your eyes as you talk about your favourite places—makes Coriolanus feel a sudden urge to stay here for a while—just as you suggested. Since he was going to be here for a while anyway, he might as well have some fun... right?

"I could use a guide." He says this before he can even think about it, as he sees Lucy Gray slowing down, obviously getting closer to your house.

He didn't know why he cared so much about seeing you again. You were nothing. Just a district hunter. He would leave the 12, find a way to get back to the Capitol, and forget about everything that brought him here. But damn, that little smile of yours made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He was pathetic. And he hated himself for it.

"I can be one."

"Aren't you afraid that people will see you with the peacekeeper?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked by his words. "I saw you looking around. Don't worry. She specifically directs us to streets that are... less frequented." He reveals his observations to you, and for the first time since you two introduced yourself, he sees that the note of fear and caution has disappeared from your eyes for a moment.

Your curious look causes him to have heart palpitations. That was weird for him. Maybe he was sick? He just hoped he hadn't caught anything from those bar rats.

"You really are perceptive, aren't you?" You ask, and he shivers, feeling your analytical gaze on him.

Coriolanus can't say he doesn't enjoy the thrill of excitement as you both try to solve the secrets the other is hiding. Talking to you was… nice. Most of the peacekeepers were as dumb as nails. Muscle mass and nothing else. And he had grown tired of Sejanus's moralising talk a long time ago. Talking to you would be good for him in some way. He wouldn't go completely crazy here. At least that's how he tried to explain to himself his strange and sudden desire to meet you again. And often. Very often.

"I was told so." He says this as you arrive at the door of your house. Coriolanus looks around carefully and is pleased to see that this is one of the better, quieter alleys. He makes a mental note to take more night shifts here. Just to keep an eye on you.

Before you walk into your house with Lucy Gray, you turn to look at him one last time.

"Well, I hope you won't miss the Capitol too much... Coryo." And when his nickname leaves your lips, he knows that this won't be the last time he sees you.

He watches as the door closes behind the two of you, taking in the last sight of you. He returns with Sejanus to their unit, completely ignoring his chatter about Lucy Gray as he thinks about you. Over time, he will find that he will do this more and more often. Thinking about you.

But neither of you knows how much you will regret this night in the future.

You walk up the stairs of the presidential palace wearing a beautiful white dress. Your mask fits to the top of your face, revealing only your mouth, chin and part of your jaw. You feel terrible, but you have to somehow blend in with the crowd of rich assholes who are enjoying their president's birthday party while district children tremble at the thought of the upcoming 22nd Hunger Games.

The only thought that comforts you is that he will die before dawn. And that you can have a glass of champagne.

You give your cloak and fake invitation to some peacekeeper the poor avox who are waiting at the entrance to serve everyone gathered. It makes you want to vomit when you think about how the man you let touch yourself became such a monster who decided to sew their mouths shut instead of cutting out their tongues.

Of course, with a red thread.

You go deeper into the room. You try to stay in the crowd, not on the outskirts, so as not to catch anyone's eye and so HE won't be able to see you. It may have been 12 years, but you're not sure if he forgot about you enough to not recognise your figure in the crowd. Maybe you tormented his nightmares as much as he tormented yours. You hoped to. Bastard didn't deserve to sleep soundly like a baby.

You're standing in a group of people, listening and laughing at the stories being told, and you're about to excuse yourself and browse around the big villa a bit and place some of the traps when suddenly you hear a tapping on a glass. You turn around with the rest of the people, making sure you're neither in the front nor the last row.

You freeze as Coriolanus' voice echoes through the room.

You have prepared for this moment many times. You predicted thousands of different scenarios for your first meeting, after... that special, rainy day at the lake when you went your separate ways. And you thought you were ready to bear the sight of him. But as soon as you look up at him, you feel your heart beat nervously. And not in that exciting way when you see your prey and are ready to attack.

As you sing a forced 'Happy Birthday' with other people after his speech, you allow yourself to steal one brief glance at him. He looks different.

More mature. More dangerous. Stronger. Powerful.

The golden mask, the only one of its kind in the room, covering his nose and just a small part of his face, the part around his eyes and eyebrows, only emphasises this more clearly.

And the red colour of his suit, along with all his... dominant attitude that emanates from him, are enough evidence of the red flag he was that you didn't notice when he was a peacekeeper in a blue uniform. His hair is longer and slicked back with gel, emphasising his rough, hard jawline and piercing blue, icy eyes. The man who stood in the middle of the room was dangerous. So much so that you felt nervous, thinking about how the hell you were going to kill him today.

You had a plan, but you knew that in every pursuit of prey, there were risks that could not be predicted. When hunting a bear, you don't face it with all your strength. You are waiting for the moment to attack. And now, looking at Coriolanus Snow in all his glory, you began to have doubts about your plan and the abilities of the other rebels. Maybe you will have to play the first violin this evening and aim a gun at him yourself. You shiver at even the thought of it.

And then his eyes find yours. For a very short while, but enough to make you shiver under his glance.

He blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to something or someone else. You feel a lump building in your throat, the words of the song being forced out of your mouth with a more and more trembling voice. He recognised you. Or not. You did not know. His subsequent actions didn't indicate it, but he had been staring at you for far too long to be sure of anything.

You don't like how quickly you're losing control.

That's why you leave at the first opportunity, hiding in the bathroom upstairs. You wait for the peacekeeper patrol to pass, and when they go to the second floor, you start setting up traps at the different spots of the presidential palace. You decide to forget about the events from a few minutes ago for a moment. Only peace will save you. You know about it. That's why you do everything to forget about his icy irises.

Well, at least until you have to go back to the ballroom again.

"A little higher." He whispers in your ear behind you, his hand wrapped around yours, as you aim his shotgun at the deer. "Eyes open, breath held, muscles tense."

You shoot and hit the animal. The gun bounces slightly, but Coriolanus holds you close and tight enough that you barely change your position, only trembling slightly as the gun clicks off.

"I prefer arrows, but thanks for showing me how to use it." You say cheekily as you approach the deer you have aimed perfectly at.

He shakes his head at you, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He watches you as you kneel next to the deer, preparing it to be carried to the district.

"You know, my teachings aren't free." He says this as you get up and walk towards the river to wash your hands. He takes the deer's body and obediently follows you.

He had the day off today and decided to use it to spend time with you. Lately, he's been running away from everyone more and more often to walk in the forest with you. You were talking and fooling around. Coriolanus has never felt so... free as with you. He could get used to this. If he hadn't experienced the comforts of the Capitol. He knew you would get used to the capital. Maybe he'd even let you go on little trips and escapades in the woods once he got back there with you as his wife. Of course, only with him. And with peacekeepers guarding you two, he didn't want to end up like his father.

"Isn't it?" You ask with that mischievous smile of yours, washing your hands in the river. "And here I thought you were noble, private Snow."

"Stop it." He growls menacingly as you don't call him by a nickname he loved to hear from your lips. But you can see by the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. A smile spreads across your face as you continue fooling around.

"Only that? You know that I love to tease you too much to just stop..." He cuts you off mid-sentence, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.

You freeze for a moment, feeling his lips brush against yours and his hand run through the back of your hair. Even if you wanted to pull away from him, you couldn't because of the way he wrapped his hands around you. You should feel trapped and outraged by his behaviour, by the fact that he didn't ask for your permission or leave you the chance to pull away. But all you could do then was grab him by his dog tag and pull him closer to you.

You moan into his mouth as you find out that kissing Coriolanus Snow is the most pleasurable thing in the world.

You place your hands on either side of his neck as he grabs your waist gently, pressing your bodies as close to each other as possible. His lips caress yours gently at first, testing the waters. When he sees that you're not pulling away from him, he deepens the kiss, completely taking over the control that, surprisingly, you willingly give him. You've never been kissed like this in your life. So desperate, so needy, so possessive. And you know that you will never feel this way with anyone else in your life.

And for the first time, you have the opportunity to feel that moment that has been repeated so often in books—kissing someone until you have no more oxygen left in your lungs. Because before him, no one wanted you enough to give you half the sensations that Coriolanus gave you. And you suspected that he felt the same.

"I had this type of payment in mind." He whispers hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, giving you the opportunity to admire his face up close. And god, he's perfect. In all his ounces, you can't even imagine how ethereal he must have been in the Capitol. (The perfect devil, tempting you until you fall.)

"Oh... um... well... be careful… with such a low payment you may be… taken advantage of by some girls." You manage to gasp, gathering the remnants of your mind that weren't occupied with the thought of him and the heavy breathing he was taking because of you.

"There is only one girl in this terrible, musty place, for whose special attention I can get anything she whishes." He says this, opening his eyes and cupping your cheek tenderly. And if your nature were any different (or if he would use a little more of his charm on you), you would melt under his touch, but you couldn't resist the opportunity he gave you.

"Anything, you say..." You mutter in mock thought with a smirk. And all Corilanus can do is smirk stupidly when he sees the familiar spark of malice in your eyes.

He enjoyed challenges, and he liked it even more when he beat you every time in your 'little fights and teasing'. He liked that you weren't completely submissive and that you could fight and banter with him instead of trembling in fear and trusting him blindly. You were almost his equal. Not that he was searching for one. But of all the girls, he knows you were the closest to his perfection. He just needed to work on your compliance a little bit before he could take you with him to the Capitol. After all, you couldn't tease him in public.

"Don't tease." He warns, humming as well, a smirk blooming on his lips despite his attempts to fight it off. He could afford a little... frivolity in the district. He would act completely differently in the Capitol, but for now, he enjoyed every carefree moment with you he could get. He couldn't remember the last time he had had to worry about the opinion of society.

"Oh, but that's the funniest thing to do now..." You continue with a smirk, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. He accepts it with a smile that quickly fades as you pull away from him and run away, laughing.

"And what is this?!" He shouts, running after you.

"A hunting lesson! I won't kiss you for yours in return, Snow!" You reply with a laugh, speeding up.

You ran away from him for an hour until you got tired of it all and ran into him laughing, deciding that he'd had enough of him chasing you for now. He immediately took you into his arms and kissed you, holding you tightly to his chest so that his rapidly beating heart was palpable to you. You placed small kisses on his snout as he held you tightly in his embrace, panting.

"Promise you'll never run away from me. That you'll never leave me." You raise your eyebrows in shock at his request, but you don't question it. You simply nod and press a kiss of promise to his lips as he pushes you against the nearest tree.

Your kiss becomes more feverish, more urgent as you feel his hardness through his peacekeeper uniform. Just a few weeks ago, you would have despised yourself for being so close to him. But it was your Coryo. That's why you don't interrupt him when he unzips your pants and takes them and your underwear off in one move.

You hold your breath as he kneels in front of you and grabs your hips with an iron grip. He presses a kiss on your thighs, teasing you and leaving little bites and bruises there before graciously shifting his attention to where you really need it. You moan, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he slowly circles your clit with his tongue, teasing you to no end. He pushes your hips against the tree every time you try to push against his tongue from a different angle. This frustrates you even more, especially after the gun slung over his shoulder shifts, causing the barrel of the shotgun to dig into your stomach.

"Coryo..." You moan, scratching his head as you try and futilely try to grab his close-cropped hair. He moans at the feeling, stimulating you even more.

He takes pity on you, putting more effort into his work as his fingers start to hit the spot that made you lost your mind. The bark of the tree digs into your back, but all you feel is Coriolanus; your entire world is limited to the movements of his fingers that bring you unimaginable pleasure that cannot be described in any words. All you can do is moan his name, which he finds flattering enough to make you cum around his fingers. Although he had no plan to let you cum when he started to play with your sweet cunt. You were making him too soft for you...

His tongue teases you as he licks along your knee, up your thigh, to stop a few moments before the place where you really needed him to reach your peak of pleasure. He smirks and suddenly bites into your thigh, causing a scream of his name from your lips to echo through the forest. He grunts, licking and sucking the spot on your thigh that he bit, feeling how he hardened in his pants by simply sucking your skin and fingering you. He loved every single sound you made because of him. If tasting you on his lips wasn't as tempting for him as it was for now, he would just kneel there and watch how you kept chasing your orgasm on his fingers.

"Scream for me, my little hunter." He says this and leans forward. His nose teases your clit before he finally licks you, testing your taste. He moans as his favourite flavour spreads across his taste buds. If he had you in the Capitol, he would never starve, he thinks as he begins to fuck you with his tongue, collecting everything that his skillful fingers caused to flow from your little pussy. For him. Because of him. His.

You grip his arms tightly, his gun somehow twisted so that it was pressed against your leg and stomach, but you don't care as he kneels in front of you and sucks the senses out of you through your cunt. You can only moan loudly and scream his name, digging your nails into his shoulders as you pull him closer to you as he makes you come. He licks up everything he gets for his work, leaving nothing to leak from your thighs onto the forest floor.

Coriolanus feels his hardness pressing against his pants, but chooses to ignore it. He won't take you like some district barbarian in the woods. He will do it well. Maybe even in the Capitol... you would look beautiful, wrapped in the most expensive sheets. And while you catch your breath and try to recover, he wonders how he's going to get his little hunter with him back to the Capitol when Dr. Gaul replies to the message he sent her.

He adjusts the gun hanging on his shoulder and stands up, licking his fingers off of the remains of your sweet juices. Unimaginable pride rises in his chest, as does a feeling of possessiveness when he sees your knees shaking and you barely standing, leaning on the tree behind you. He chuckles, remembering the sight. He will definitely think about it, while jerking off himself when he will be alone at the barracks.

"I will always catch you. No matter how long it takes." He says, taking you in his arms when he sees that you're unable to stand on your own in your post-orgasm haze. Another thing that increases his ego.

You didn't know how much that sweet promise would turn out to be a bloodthirsty threat. So you let him carry you through the forest as you both headed back to 12.

The next day, you were delivered money in exchange for the deer you and Private Snow had hunted together. From his superior, Commander Hoff. Even then, he was using you for his own gain.

"Are you lost, miss?" You stop in your quick steps. You curse internally when you hear his voice in the hall. You were about to go downstairs and go to the ballroom. But no. Coriolanus Snow always had to screw up your job.

"Mr. President." You say, trying to change your tone of voice as you turn around and see him. "I was just looking for a spare bathroom."

"Ah yes. Women's ones seem to be… very crowded. Have you made it, little bathroom hunter, or do you need help?" He asks, walking over to you. He shouldn't be here. Certainly not that close to you. Meg was supposed to focus his attention on her and flirt with him. You didn't know what the hell he was doing on the first floor instead of in the ballroom celebrating his birthday.

And when he called you a hunter, you tried your hardest not to shiver in fear at the thought of him seeing through you. But if he recognised you, would he act so... calm around you? Peacekeepers would probably have surrounded you long ago if he had...

"I did it, Mr. President. Ah! Happy birthday! May you watch over us for a very long time." You wish him well, and he just smiles. This isn't one of his forced, political smiles. No.

It was a wolfish smile, a dangerous one. The one that he had a habit of showing you when he managed to outsmart you tracked you down in the forests of District 12.

"Thank you, my darling. You wouldn't deny a man his birthday wishes, would you?" A shiver runs through you as his irises focus on you. His tone is quieter and darker as he asks you a seemingly innocent question. But you know very well that nothing about Coriolanus Snow is innocent.

"Of course not, Mr. President." You reply courteously, already afraid of what he might want from you.

"Great. May I then?" He asks, sticking out his hand as he asks you to dance with a polite smile (if the devil can wear one).

"With great pleasure." You say, placing your hand in his. Without knowing why, you feel like you're putting it in the mouth of a lion... or in this case, a snake.

He holds your hand tightly as he helps you down the stairs. He doesn't let go of you for a second, and once you reach the dance floor, he wraps his arm around your waist and presses you against him, making you feel all his muscles hidden under his clothes. His eyes also never leave yours, which makes you very uncomfortable. Your anxiety only gets greater as you can't see the faces of the other members of your rebellion in the room.

"Nervous? Don't worry. You dance great." The smirk never leaves his face. And that's the kind of sly smirk. Of course, you dance great. After all, he taught you that himself in District 12.

"Thank you, Mr. President." At one point, the dance requires him to turn you around and press your back against his chest. You shiver as you feel his breath on your neck, then on your ear as he leans down, so he is very close to you.

"Do you think I'm stupid enough not to recognise you, Y/N? That I don't dream about you every night? That I didn't notice you when you and your ridiculous group of district dogs burst into my presidential palace?" You struggle, trying to break free from his grip, but he only grips your hip tighter, enough to surely leave bruises in the form of his fingers.

Coriolanus presses his lips against your temple and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You shiver in his arms at the familiar feeling of his closeness. You feel the gun hidden under his vest press against the back of your back. A tender reminder of how you both were still enemies and a deadly threat to each other.

His hands roam over your body, exploring you as much as he can manage in a crowd of people. But you doubt anyone would dare point out how he presses his crotch against your ass, forcing you to feel every last bit of him as he continues whispering darkly into your ear. "I've been hunting you for so many years... only for you to come running straight to me, as always. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better birthday present. Let's play a game. Our favourite, darling. Try to escape, my little hunter." He hums as he finally lets go of you.

You're not wasting your time.

You don't turn to see him smirking mockingly, to see the way his cheeks have turned slightly pink from the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins, or to see the way the bulge in his pants has become slightly more visible.

You run away from him without looking back, pushing through the crowd of people who are leaving in panic after the announcement that they must leave the villa immediately as a result of the detection of an attempted assassination of the head of state.

But not everything is lost yet.

You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd of people, including Meg and Joseph. And you know that if you want to save your plan and the members of the rebellion, then you have to get Coriolanus' full attention. Make him drop his guard and focus entirely on you.

That's why instead of trying to escpae you stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor.

You watch the crowd of people storming towards the exit. Peacekeepers are pushing through them, some trying to catch the more suspicious ones and interrogate them; everyone is focused on the exit door. So you had to go upstairs. You see Coriolanus slowly walking out of the ballroom. He looks around for you, and when his eyes catch yours, he stops, examining you. You kick off your high heels and run upstairs.

You run forward, hearing the clatter of his shoes close behind you.

You avoid all the traps you have set and hide in one of the rooms. Your feet feel icy from the cool marble you're walking on, but you don't pay much attention to it. Your heart is racing, and you try to breathe as quietly as possible as you hide behind the curtain, listening.

The first thing he does is open all the doors. Of course, carefully and not by himself. He was fully aware that you might have some unpleasant surprises in store for him. He was made very aware of it by one of the peacekeepers who went with him and unlocked the mechanism that caused his beautiful crystal chandelier to fall on the soldier's head.

The maids will have to clean the blood from the white marble again. The next time he renovates the villa, he will have to think about a more... useful floor colour.

"Guard the remaining floors and all exits. Two of you stand by the stairs. I'll take care of this one myself. You go and catch the rest of these street rats." He orders them in a dry tone.

He knows full well that he can fight you alone, and he will do it much better than this bunch of idiots. You weren't just a pure force. You were the mastermind. And only Coriolanus was smart enough to follow your way of thinking and catch you. Just like he always did.

You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps of the peacekeepers spreading across the floor. Only Coriolanus remains. You hear his breathing and his slow, methodical steps. You can imagine him analyzing the hall, looking for traps and potential threats you could prepare for him.

"You know you can't escape, right?" he begins, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the empty, silent corridor. "You've been slipping out of my hands for too long, little hunter. Do you think I don't remember our lessons? That I don't know your systems and customs? I don't know that you packed the entire presidential palace with your little surprises. What a pity that you will never catch me in any of them..."

You hear him enter the room next to you. He drops something to the floor and steps away, closing the door with a bang as the mechanism activates, spreading corrosive gas across the room that was intended to hurt him.

"Really? Such a school trick? I thought you knew better than to test such... childish methods on me, darling. I remember you telling me about something like this after a particular night at your apartment. Can you believe that I remember much better those lessons during which you were moaning and screaming my name?" He chuckles, sinisterly, darkly at the memory.

And then you hear a step. And another one. And another one. Slow, unhurried, and careful. It was so quiet that you wouldn't have heard them if the villa wasn't as quiet as it is now.

He was approaching you slowly and saliently, just as you taught him all those years ago. As usual, he turned out to be a very talented student.

"I never thought you'd be a rebel. After all, you were always so submissive to me... especially under me. And wanting me dead... you know I've killed and turned into Avox for lesser crimes against me and the Panem? But don't worry... your mouth and tongue are too useful for me to take the pleasure they can give away from me ever again."

He starts whistling, checking another room. As you hear him pulling the covers off the bed, you slowly emerge from your hiding place. You take a small step closer to the bathroom and freeze as the floor creaks beneath you.

"Spikes embedded in the mattress? Were you hoping to seduce me and put me on this deathbed? We can always try this... on a less lethal mattress, of course. What would you say, little hunter? Pardon. My sweet rebel?" You close the door quietly behind you and look around the dark room. Window. Maybe if you could open it...

"All these years, and you still use the same perfume." He grunts and closes the door behind him. You shudder, realising that he knows you're in this room. You tighten your hand on the knife hidden in the sleeve of your dress and wait in the cold bathroom for his next steps. "Don't you have a little Deja vu? It reminds me of when you and Lucy Gray ran away from me. That bitch is still hiding. I suspect you don't know where, but you are in contact through some letters or something. As soon as I find her, I will kill her on the spot. I know very well that she was the reason you left me. Don't get me wrong, I'm also angry at you for that... but not as mad as I am at her."

After Sejanus was hanged, he and you planned to escape together. And God, you loved it. You would have sacrificed your whole life for him if it weren't for Lucy Gray, who told you the truth about your beloved devil. So when he came out of the cottage near the lake, worrying about how you had been gone for too long and looking for you with a gun in his hand, you ran away.

"Y/N! Y/N, where are you?! Y/N! Y/N! I will find you! There is no fucking place you can hide from me! Can you hear me, hunter?! NO FUCKING PLACE! YOU ARE MINE! YOU WILL BE ALWAYS MINE! I will mark you like cattle and tie you to my side forever!"

You dream of his screams at some night.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me! You lying bitch!"

You hear his footsteps in the other room as he opens the curtains and checks to see if you're outside the window.

"You think I won't find you?! That you can crawl into a hole that I can't get you out of?! YOU'RE MINE, Y/N! Alive or dead, I don't care! YOU BELONG TO ME!"

You hear him take steps towards the closet, opening it and throwing things out, making sure it's empty. You hear him knocking over several items—the bed, the armchairs. You hold your breath as there is complete silence. He's probably looking at the bathroom door.

You feel your heart beating in your chest just as fast as it did that day when you hid from him as he walked around with a gun, screaming and calling for you. And you almost left. You almost left, wanting to fall into his arms as he kneeled in the middle of the forest and cried, smelling his mother's scarf that he gave you and which was saturated with your scent. But before you could, he screamed and started shooting at the mockingjays in the trees. So you ran away.

And you've been running away since then, hoping that you were a terrible teacher to him and that he would never find you...

"If you leave willingly, I will spare you the unpleasant part, my little rebel. Maybe you can even convince me to forget your transgressions completely… well within reason. However, I suspect that my bed is more comfortable than the floor of a prison cell. Don't you think?"

Maybe if he had used a less mocking tone, if you hadn't heard the pleasure dripping from his voice at his superiority over you and the excitement at catching you, then maybe you would have left willingly. You shake your hand, holding the knife tighter in your hand. No. You wouldn't leave and let him catch you without a fight. He has done too much to you and to other district people to pretend he's not a monster.

"I count to three." You hold your breath, stopping yourself from shaking. The cool air gives you goosebumps as you wait for him to take a step closer to the bathroom's door. "One."

You hear the rustle of fabric; he must have taken off his jacket and probably his mask too. You reach up to your face and untie your own mask, taking it off with a trembling hands.

"Two." Before he enters the room, you hide, so you're standing behind the door, which Coriolanus opens before he counts to three.

Another trick you taught him. Act unpredictably. Don't warn the prey about your next step, and don't let it catch you by surprise.

That's why Coriolanus stands still when he sees the bathroom window open. Your mask lies on the windowsill, taunting him as the moonlight reflects off the silver thread from which it was sewn and glows, tempting him to follow the trail.

That's why, as soon as he comes to the window, you quickly step out from behind the door and close it behind you with a bang.

A moment later, you hear his curses and quick footsteps. You run forward and enter the next room, being careful not to activate any mechanisms. Just as you close the door behind you, you feel him grab the handle on the other side.

In a panic, you do the same and pull the door towards you, wrestling with him. You know it won't get you very far. Coriolanus was stronger than you. He would get inside quickly. You had to think of another way to escape and create distance between you.

"That's enough, Y/N! We had fun, but that's it. You have no way to escape. You know it damn well! Be a good girl and get out." He growls at you, trying to push the door open and get inside.

"So you can kill me?! Hang me like Sejanus?!" You ask angrily, wrestling with him at the door. You feel yourself getting weaker, so you make an instinctive decision. You let go of the door and ran to the window, opening it. You turn around as the door slams shut. You two are standing in the same room again.

You look at each other carefully. You both breathe quickly, analysing each other's possible movements.

"You know I would never hurt you." He starts by taking a small step towards you. You step back to the open window, and he freezes. You may have been on the first floor, but the presidential palace was huge. If you jump out, you will smash into the asphalt and die. And he won't win. Coriolanus cannot afford this. That's why he's standing still for now.

"You killed people. How was I supposed to know I wouldn't be next?" You accuse him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Your mind analyses all the possibilities. You're tempted to jump. Free yourself from him once and for all. Make him lose. Although this time.

"You could have trusted me. Just a little longer."

"Sorry, I have a survival instinct. Very strong survival instinct." You say this, avoiding his gaze. He takes advantage of your distraction and takes a step towards you, which you don't notice because you are too busy thinking of an escape plan.

"Not that big since you came here. For what? To kill me? Will you stab me in the heart, Y/N? Will you shoot me? Will you poison me?"

"You left me no other choice." You growl at him, furious, tightening your grip on the dagger.

"You don't want to do this. I know you. If you really wanted me to fall into a trap, you'd make it so that I couldn't move my damn foot an inch without activating something. So I'll ask again. Why did you come here?"

You do not know. Really. You can't answer his question.

Because... Yes, you hated him. And yes, you despised him. And yes, you were afraid of the monster he had become. But nothing could change the fact that, deep down, you loved him. You cried hundreds of tears because of him, which ricocheted off the walls of the wall you so eagerly built around yourself and your stupid hearth so no one else would be able to hurt you again. You didn't let anyone else get to know you. Not like Coriolanus did. He was the only one who saw the real you. The part of you that you were so afraid to show anyone else or to even look at them by yourself.

"Y/N. Look at me." It's not a request. This is a command. Subtle, but still. And you know, that's all he'll give you. Commands, expectations.

Never look your prey in the eyes. The first rule you taught him. The only one he always broke.

Maybe because of sadism? Maybe he enjoyed watching realisation shine in his victims' eyes as they realised he was winning. But you can't resist following his command and looking into those icy irises you once knew so well.

Or maybe he really cared about you more than anyone else. You'd like to believe that.

"I can give you everything. The whole world. All you have to do is trust me." He says, taking a few steps closer to you. You bite your lip. You can try to run away, but you know he will catch you. You weren't on your own turf. And he had a hundred tracking dogs, ready to find you. Crook.

"Trust you? After everything you've done?" You mock him. But he doesn't answer. There is perfect silence in the room.

Before you know it, he runs towards you. He activates the mechanism, causing a crossbow arrow to pierce his arm. He ignores it in favour of reaching out to you. He quickly injects something into your neck, holding you tightly against his chest. You stabbed him in the stomach. His blood spurts onto your dress as he makes sure you can't move, ignoring his wounds for a moment. Of course, he retaliates by tightening his grip on you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin.

"So you chose the hard path. Too bad, my little hunter. For you. I'll be damned glad to have the opportunity to train you. I will make you the perfect first lady, my darling." He whispers in your ear, and as you fall unconscious in his arms, you realise one terrifying thing. He caught you. He won this round.

You have to put plan B into action all alone.

You foresaw that your plan might fail and that someone would betray you. That's why you and Meg came up with... a contingency plan. After all, you had to keep your promise.

You're not leaving this presidential palace until you see the life drain from Coriolanus Snow. It will be your prison until then. A golden cage. No matter how long it will take... Or at least try to convince yourself that you have to do it. Because you know you must do it for the good of Panem. That you can't back down from anything at the next opportunity. You can't hesitate. No matter how much you will be drunk on the blame and pain of killing him.

It was a game of survival. A game only you and Coriolanus knew how to play. You had to win. For the good of people. To stop the suffering he caused.

After all, the caged wolf was still a threat. Even for poisonous snakes.

PART 2 (last)

[bitter-me]

Coffee

Young Ranpo Edogawa | M. Reader

----------

"Your smell like coffee!"

----------

Coffee isn't Ranpo's thing.

They're bitter, sure the barista adds some milk and syrup in them but they're still bitter! Which is why he likes hot chocolate better. Unlike the bitter concoction hot chocolate is sweet and nice and warm, especially if you add marshmallows! Some may say that it's too sweet but not for Ranpo. It's just the right amount of sweetness.

And that leads to his confusion as to why his friend likes coffee.

Ranpo once saw [Name] drunk at least 5 cups to finish his school assignments. Like huh? Maybe it's a thing students have to deal with? I mean -- he's technically not a student so maybe that's why it confuses him to his wits end? Regardless the reason behind that habit Ranpo's not one to judge. After all, [Name] was the first ever person that understands him and doesn't shut him down like those adults were.

In fact, [Name] seemed rather fascinated by Ranpo's deductions and how he managed to know everything in seconds.

[Name] was the first person to do that... his first... friend...

So Ranpo's not going to judge him for something as petty as that.

The day Fukuzawa took him in, even though he won't say it out loud he was happy and grateful for it. And [Name] can't be any more happier to found out how Ranpo's life seemed to have a turn for the better. Even if Ranpo doesn't admit it [Name] had always knew about his struggles, his anxiety, his fears, everything. Which why he was beyond happy to found out about it.

Unlike Ranpo who seems to be very gifted in deductions and all.

[Name] is just an average straight A's high school student.

Ranpo has his life planned out before him, a path already build just for him, a path of being a promising detective. "The greatest detective" he'd put it. While [Name] have to find his own path.

Unknowing to all...

This set's him off the rails.

What is he supposed to do? What does he need? What does he want? People say to get a job that you like, that you enjoy. But what about money? Don't you need that to survive? But what if the job ended up being too hard and he'll not like it? What if it's boring? What if it's dull?

But then again what was the point? We all die anyways right? So what was the point in getting a stable and enjoyable job, and a happy life where we all just die in the end?

What if's and questions filled his head, day in day out.

He's not ready.... He needs more time...

But time won't wait for him.. or anyone in that manner...

.

.

Coffee is nice... It keeps your adrenaline high, give you a boost. [Name] couldn't help but enjoy it. That sudden boost of energy makes him more focus on his school work rather than his thoughts. Not to mention that they have quite a nice and pleasant smell the taste is also nice. Because of that [Name] would smell like coffee a scent Ranpo had grown to love, despite saying that coffee isn't his thing.

As time goes on, Ranpo began to be occupied with cases, while [Name] is busy with school. The two barely have time for each other as they used to. But they don't mind as it would just lead to them having a lot more to talk about once they meet again. It was nice... very nice... the warm and pleasant atmosphere...

"Hey Ranpo, since you're practically a detective now. Do you see a lot of bodies."

"Of course I do."

"So seeing one won't scare you? The scent of their blood and the sight of their dead, pale, and possibly disfigured form?"

"Of course not! What kind of detective get's scared of a corpse!"

[Name] chuckles at Ranpo's words, finding the small outburst to be entertaining in some way.

It was a rhetorical question...

It was a rhetorical question, right [Name]..?

Although he doesn't say it, Ranpo felt uneasy at the question. Why is [Name] suddenly asking about that? It felt random. Out of place. Completely out of the blue. It's common to asked that to a new detective, right? But why was it so specific? It probably didn't mean anything, right? But even so... Ranpo can't shake off the feeling that there's a hidden meaning to his friend's words... like a shadow..

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months and the months turn into years...

[Name]'s graduation day is growing closer and closer.

Ranpo can't be any happier for his friend, a friend he had grown to love... was finally going to graduate high school! He even requested a few days off for this special occasion! Not that he really need to as he could just walk off like usual. But still!!

As happy as he is, Ranpo can't help but have a gut feeling that something is wrong...

He can't explain it but... It's just felt wrong...

Like a dark cloud is hovering above him... dark shadow...

And....

......He's right as always....

The day before the graduation.

Ranpo received a case, which he had refused since he did requested a few days off for his friend's special occasion, but Fukuzawa insisted that he take it. Almost begging.

With no other choice, Ranpo accepts it.

But what he saw in the crime scene was one out of his nightmares.

He didn't even need to open the sheet that covered the body as his had already knew who it is.

The keychain attached to the book bag speaks for itself.

A keychain that belongs to someone dear to him... someone close... someone he had grown to love and adore... someone he was planning to spill his heart out to... someone he was hoping he could call his...

And the results of his deductions didn't help at all. It just made things worse as it revealed to him how much the victim was suffering. A pain that the victim didn't show until their last moments. A pain that Ranpo was too ignorant to notice. A pain where the victim decided that it was too much for them and wanted it to end.

"Why..?"

.

.

The next day... Ranpo graduated from a school he didn't even attend...

He did it in someone's stead.

.

.

Ranpo doesn't like coffee.

No....

He hates it.

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

[trickbxbes]

𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫: [𝗖𝗵𝗽 𝟭] 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗼

Summary: Drowning in your father's debt, it didn't seem like there was a way out. Until a suited man offers you a lifesaver. But you soon realize it's nothing of the sort, but neither is your life on the outside. Stuck between two evils, which will you choose?

Warnings: Reader is an exotic dancer, violence, death, the usual Squid Game territory stuff, slowburn,

Word Count: 2,360

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

          You’re greeted with the distasteful scent of old rainwater and garbage as you enter an alleyway. You carefully pull your jacket closer to your body. Your nerves were on fire. That terrible anxiety that you couldn’t ignore, as this was your survival instinct. You gulp, clutching your purse tightly. 

“Ah, there she is!” 

A male enters the alley from behind you, making you turn and look. There was not one, but two men. The sound of pebbles being crushed under footsteps made you look to the other exit in the alleyway. Two more men approached, having you surrounded. You didn’t flee, recognizing them and knowing what they were here for. The first man gestures ahead at you. “Not polite to leave a girl waiting, we know.” 

You adjust your posture, feigning confidence. 

“I didn’t mind.”

You remain still as the four men surround you, waiting. The main man holds his hand out expectantly. “Now, you gonna make this easy on us? Hm?” 

Without another word, you take out a stack of cash from your bag and place it in his hands. The man scoffs, skimming through the thin paper to briefly count. He holds up the stack, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Where’s the rest?” 

That anxiety doubled in your gut, your skin crawling. With a dry mouth, you say, 

“T-that’s all I have right now.” 

The man sighs, handing the cash to his associate. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“This is even less than last time.” You’re quick to defend yourself.

 “I-It was a slow week at Jenny’s. But we’re hosting a big birthday party next week, that’ll certainly bring in some well paying customers.” 

You take a shaky step back and are met with a mucky cement wall. The men close in, like a pride of lions stalking their prey. Your eyes dart about, trying to calculate a way to get out of this. It didn’t look like these men were going to listen though. The head man tilts his head, taking out a switchblade. You whimper slightly in fear, your heart dropping at the sight of silver. Two men grab your arms, keeping you still. You’re barely able to attempt to jerk free before you feel the cold blade on your cheek. 

“This isn’t even your problem, you know. Your deadbeat dad should be paying up, not you.” 

At the mere mention of your father in that form, you’re filled with anger. Your eyebrows furrow, your face contorted in rage. What the hell did these loan sharks know about you and your father? But your nerves were too high for you to act tough. 

“Look, I-I even came all the way out here to meet you. Just give me—“

“Hey!”

A new voice enters the fray. All of you look over to see a young adult man. He was tall, and had medium length black hair that reached his lower neck. He looks in between you and the men, and started to jog over. “Get the hell away from her!”

 His shouting was bound to draw the attention of more people, the goons harassing you knew that. They look to the man with their own displeasure. “We’ll see you soon.” That’s all you’re ended with before they leave. Despite them being gone, you didn’t feel the relief you were owed. You knew this was only a temporary release. You needed money, fast. 

“Are you okay?” 

The mysterious man asks you kindly. You look up into his dark eyes and force a smile. 

“Yeah, yeah! Thanks for that, hero.” 

You reply sweetly. He seemed surprised by the title and rubs the back of his neck. “I-It’s what anybody decent would’ve done.” He deflects the subject back to something more urgent. “Who were those guys? Did you know them?” 

If you were to explain the complexities of the truth, you’d probably overshare the boy to death. You didn’t have time for that. So instead, you come up with a quick lie. 

“I-I dunno. I think they were trying to mug me or something. Assholes.” You cross your arms. Thankfully, the man seemed to believe your claim. 

“Well… hopefully they’re gone now. Oh-! D-Do you want me to walk you to wherever you’re going?” 

Ah, a gentleman. As you’re about to speak, you feel a raindrop touch your cheek. You make a small noise of surprise, wiping the droplet and casting your eyes to the sky. The clouds were thick with dark gray. You smile nervously at the man. 

“Ah, no no, no need. I don’t wanna bother. I’m just headed back to the subway station and that’s right around the corner.” 

He visibly loosens up at your words, perhaps finding relief that you would be out of harm’s way sooner rather than later. 

“Ah, okay, okay. Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’d better get going now. But, thanks again.” 

You and the man go your separate ways, heading in opposite directions. You weren’t lying about the distance to the station, it really wasn’t far at all. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

           Eventually, you’d find yourself sitting down at a bench down below. The subway track was empty, almost like the venue itself. There were maybe four or five people lurking about. But three were walking away, while two men were sitting on a bench on the other side of the tracks. 

But just as you were about to take a second to actually breathe, you’re greeted by someone stopping right in front of you. 

A tall man wearing a suit held a briefcase while staring down at you, an empty but somehow friendly smile on his face. 

“Hello, do you have a moment? I’d like to ask you something.” 

You recognized his mannerisms and general output as a salesman. Why he was in a dirty subway to advertise was beyond you. You give a halfway smile, about to have him move along. But your voice is caught in your throat when you spot people from the corner of your eye. 

The loan sharks from before. 

“Yep! Yep, what’s up?” You didn’t have the luxury to deny his invitation. 

The man seemingly smiled a little wider, just a smidge. He sets his briefcase beside you on the bench, just as the goons catch up. The leader smirks lightly in your direction, stopping with his men. 

“Right then, let’s go finish our conversation, hm?” 

Your jaw tightens, you weren’t able to hide behind someone this time. You had to face the music. What horrors awaited? Were they going to make you sign a contract to sell your kidneys? Your eyes? Your limbs? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. But just as you were to stand up, the Salesman turns and faces the men. 

“We’re in the middle of our own conversation. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I’d like to speak with her first.” 

Your jaw drops. Were the Gods feeling extra merciful today? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You sit up and put your hands in your lap. You wait patiently and politely for the goons reply, knowing how pissed off they were. They glare slightly at the taller man, and go sit at a bench a little ways away silently. 

“Shit…” You sigh under your breath. When you lift your head, you see the man waiting for your attention, making you regain your composure. “Uh—uh… so, what’s up?”  

The man opens up his briefcase and, to your surprise, holds up two envelopes. One red one blue. Ddakji. 

“Would you like to play a game?” 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

         You sat on the subway, thinking about the events that just occured. 

Slap after slap in the face, you kept going. It wasn’t even about the money anymore, it was pure determination. But you had actually managed to win a few rounds. The thrill of the possible win was greater than the risk of the slap. It was a high better than any drug you could imagine. So, when the male stopped and handed you a card, you were more than a little shocked. 

The next events pass by like a blur. The subway that would take you back to your city arriving. Somehow, the man seemingly knew this. 

You scrambling to get onto the tram before the goons from earlier could catch up. The salesman handing you your purse that you nearly forgot in the panic. You remember him giving you a faint wink as you get on the subway, clutching your purse tightly as you leave all the men behind. 

You look at the card he gave to you. It was so simple, but somehow eerie as all hell. You didn’t trust it as far as you could throw it. But the idea was intriguing to say the least. Playing simple games to make enough money to pay off all your debt? It sounded too good to be true. You knew better, it definitely was too good to be true. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

         Jenny’s. You didn’t know if you hated the scent of the club or not. It reminded you of all you had to endure just doing this job alone. Being an exotic dancer was no easy feat. An extremely straining job, both physically and mentally. But the money was more than you’d normally get at a minimum wage joint. That’s what kept you here in this hellhole. 

You finished up your time on the stage, now walking the floor with other women. You’ve got a knack for picking out customers who tip well. Everyone’s got a tell. Whether it’s their hair, their shoes or their demeanor, you could see it. You needed to find someone egotistical, someone you could milk out a good 500 won from at minimum.  

Then, you spot him. A man making his way to the VIP section of Jenny’s. His shoes were one of a kind, and they didn’t look bad either. His bright purple hair was a clear indicator for the demeanor you were looking for. An easy target. 

You sashay your way there, security letting you pass. Your heels clack with the staircase floors till you reach the top. The man was sitting back amongst a black cushion couch. He wasn’t alone, a few other men sitting around. Blinged out men, one might add. Now here’s where you might’ve struck jackpot. But, you’re no stranger to this, you needed to play it safe. You didn’t want to bite off more than you could chew. 

Stopping in front, you lean down, pushing your hands against your knees. You made sure to set all your attention onto the purple haired individual. He sits up a little, taking in your beauty. 

“Hola, señorita.” His language change catches you off guard. You give him an easy smile. 

“Designer.” You reach to touch the jacket he wore, but purposefully stop yourself. You leave a faint hint of desire to want more. He seemingly takes the bait, beckoning you closer. “You can touch it.” He smirks softly. It was almost too easy, he was too confident for his own good. “You wanna go somewhere? It must be hard being the most interesting person here.” Your hand gently brushes his hair, making the male lean into your touch with an inhale. 

But then, he grabs your hand. 

“No, beautiful.” He says in English, making you blink in confusion. After a few moments, you’re able to understand what he said. He continues, 

“I’m afraid I’m only here to look, no private dances. But I’m about to come to a huge influx of cash, gorgeous. And when I do, I’ll be sure to return to you, my lovely.” He finishes with another English phrase, giving you a thumb finger heart. 

You knew there was no point in trying to mooch off his ‘friends’, they’d know they were second choice sloppy seconds. This was a bust. So, you click your tongue and force a smile. 

“I look forward to it.” 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

         When you finally made it home for the night, you’re careful to not make too much noise. The television was still on. It emanated the only light in the room. Your father was passed out on the couch, his snores being louder than the volume of the tv. Empty bottles of soju took the space of the once clean coffee table. 

Taking off your shoes, you set down your stuff. You walk to the dining table, where a yellow paper lies remained.

 “EVICTION NOTICE” 

It was hardly a comforting reminder. You had left it there to make sure you and your dad didn’t forget. Today, you haven’t made nearly enough to get the sharks to back off. You were screwed. You knew you were lucky they haven’t showed up to your house to kidnap you yet. 

Maybe some sort of miracle would happen and your dad would get his job back. Maybe you’d acquire some sort of cash that could solve all your problems. 

The thought leads you to shuffle through your purse, pulling out the card again. As you hold it, you limp to the kitchen and open the fridge. On the door was a photo held there by a cheap magnet. It was of you and your father when you were but a child. Both of you smiling brightly at a playground. 

Hissing softly, you hold your leg. You lift your foot and rotate your ankle. Your job was physically very taxing. 

You’re pleasantly greeted with an empty fridge. Today was your dad’s turn to get some food, but it seemed his priorities stopped him from doing so. You sigh, sort of expecting this, and close the fridge again. 

You flip the card over and read the number written out. Your eyes linger on the pages a moment, trying to see if this was really what you were going to do. But, did you even have a choice? 

Taking your phone out of your purse, you take a deep breath, and dial the number. There’s a few seconds of ringing before you’re told to state your name. With a heavy heart, and a shaky voice, you set your fate in stone. 

“(L,n) (Y,n).”

[americas-ass-writing]

The Celestial Bond

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: ~4k

Summary: Your friends the stars reunite you with an old friend that missed you just like you missed him.

Warnings: family trauma, reader feeling unloved, inaccurate royal au probably ... I think that's it? If not please don't hesitate to reach out

Author's Note: This is my entry for the Horny Hoes Hootenanny by the sweet @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 💙 I'm so sorry this is late, the muse has left me but I finally managed to end it 🥰 The prompt I used was 🍁 "Here, take my sweater/coat/scarf/jacket/mittens" and Stargazing which I rolled in their little raffle 🥰 also I'm super impressed I wrote 4k words for this???

Divider by @saradika-graphics

For a long time it's just been you and the stars. Just you and the glowing orbs in the sky. Every now and then a owl that would hoot or you'd hear other animal sounds as you sat at the edge of the woods. The stars and the noises were your only friends nowadays.

Once upon a time you had friends... a friend. You'd often stargaze with him, until he had to leave. His departure marked the beginning of loss... not loss in a sense that people died but loss of friendship, of kind people around you, of your families favour.

It's not like they ever loved you, they accepted you but were not keen to have to help you. But if you were of help they liked to keep you around. Eventually they grew tired of you and became more cruel. They never got physical but their words cut deeper than any knife could have.

So eventually you left, clearly not wanted there. You took everything you owned and marched to the village on the outside of your kingdom.

It was dangerous there for sure. If a war with the neighbouring kingdom started it would be the first place to be hit. But it was cheap and you were able to rent a room over a barn with what little you had saved and nowadays earned. It wasn't much but it was home.

You worked odd jobs around the village to survive and luckily it was enough. With no special talents that are of use to work in any service you had to fall back on the jobs no one wanted to do. Clean the stables, collect hard to reach plants in the woods and so on.

Even the people of the village didn't want anything to do with you besides paying you to do the odd jobs.

Sometimes you thought about moving on to the next village but nobody would want you there either. Surviving would be harder and who knew if you'd see the stars as good as you did here? The stars, your only companions.

The energy in the air was weird today. Your little village at unease because some guards and royalty from the other kingdom travelled through earlier. Nobody knows what the royal visit would bring. Maybe they truly were just on their way through? Hopefully whatever business leads them to your king will be settled peacefully. You go about your day doing your odd jobs to earn enough money.

It's late in the afternoon when you carry some filled water buckets back to the bakery. The well is far away and the baker doesn't have time to get the supplies he needs for the evening so it's your job to do. You're just about to cross the main road when a guard from earlier with long brown hair rides past you. You take a step back to let the royal entourage through and the guard nods to you as if to say thank you for waiting. You watch them pass by. First the brown haired guard with a second next to him who even sends you, a peasant, a dashing smile.

The carriage follows. It's dark blue with golden ornaments. The most beautiful thing you've seen besides those blue eyes who watch you intently from inside. Quickly realising it must be a royal from the other kingdom you lower your head in respect.

The carriage drives past you and the last guards, a blonde man with a quiver on his back and a red haired woman pass by on their horses. Both don't pay much attention to you, exept another nod to thank you for waiting. You're confused and look after them for a moment before you hear the baker call for you from across the road. You pick up the buckets again and hurry over to fulfill your job.

With the few coins earned today and a leftover dry loaf of bread you make your way home. In your mind still plays the respect those guards or knights have shown you today. It's been the kindest thing that happened to you in a long time.

You're back in your spot late in the evening. You can't stay up for too long so you're happy the days are a bit shorter now. The stars greet you as if you're old friends, to a degree you are. They've heard many of your woes... If they could hear you quietly talk to yourself.

You lean your head back on the tree behind you, looking up at the sparkling night sky. You still know a few constellations by heart even after all these years. Others you don't know, you wish you did but that information was not meant for you. For some uneducated peasant trying to make ends meet. You wish your friend could have stayed longer all those years ago. He knew all about them and taught you what he knew. But he had to leave just as sudden as the stars leave when the sunrise rolls in.

Dry leaves crunching behind you get your attention. Steps. But not from an animal... those are human steps. You quickly get up, hiding behind the tree, watching who might approach. It's a tall, muscular figure. Long blond hair and a beard to match. The closer he comes the more details you see and soon those same blue eyes who watched you earlier fall upon you again. The person in the carriage?

You blink at him dumbfounded and take in the new details revealed by the moonlight. Brown boots, dark pants, white shirt and a dark blue cloak with an ornate design. The closer you look the more it looks like stars but your mind forces you not to dwell on it too long. This is clearly a royal or at least someone with a higher standing than you. You hurry to curtsey but his hand stops you.

"Please don't... You, especially you will never have to bow for me" his voice was smooth like honey, deep and comforting. It strangely gave you a feeling of safety and... home. You blink at him confused and he moves closer to you slowly, as if not to spook you.

His eyes wander over you and when they meet yours they seem to have found an answer to a question you don't know. You're glued to the spot you're standing just by his look alone. What would a royal want from you? Why shouldn't you bow? Did he need a new chambermaid? That probably paid well... You could maybe even do more than survive.

Your name from his lips pulls you from your mind. Your eyes snap to his and your brows knit in confusion. "How do you..." The question stays unfinished as he takes another step closer to you.

"It's me... Steve." He says softly. "Your Stevie" he adds in an almost hopeful tone. Your head shakes on its on as you try to process. This man in front of you couldn't be your Stevie. He was small, scrawny, soft... And yet the man in front of you had the same brilliant kind eyes, his voice sounded similar enough and the dirty blond of his hair matched too. How... Your Stevie was a royal? It would explain why he never came back...

Another step and he's right in front of you. With hesitation he takes your hands in his, his eyes searching yours. "Please... Please tell me you remember me." He whispers, almost desperate. "Please. I never forgot you. Always thought of you when I watched the stars at night, often dreamed of you. Of us reuniting." He adds, his words spoke nothing but truth.

"Why didn't you come back?" was the only thing able to leave your scrambled brain. His eyes turned sad and he briefly glanced away. "I wanted to... But" a brief sigh. "My father died... He. He was the king of Brooken. My mother and me left because he was cruel but when he died... We had to return. My mother took her rightful place as queen before the Rumlows could take over and rage war upon the lands. I couldn't stay. I'm so sorry... We should have taken you along." His hands squeezed yours softly.

"You're... The prince of Brooken?" You ask, looking over him once more. "The king of Brooken... I had to take over once I came off age." He explains. "A king?" Your eyes grow wide as he nods.

"But I'm still your Stevie. I may look different but I'm still your friend... Which is why when I saw you today I knew I had to come back. Find you. I was hoping you'd stargaze tonight." He admits. "I want to bring you back to my kingdom. Give you the life you deserve." He whispers, his eyes holding nothing but earnest and something else... something adoring.

"The life I deserve?" You ask, confusion clear in your face. His hands let go of yours and move to softly cup your face.

"Yes... A life with no worries, no hard work, full of people who love you" his warmth seeps through your skin and spreads around your face. His promise of a better life sounds good. And since it was your Stevie you're sure he'd keep it. A tiny part of your brain was hesitant to accept. You'd been alone for so long, you're not quite sure there's another option for you but as you look into his eyes and see the warmth they hold for you you're convinced. You nod as much as you can with his big hands cupping your face still and a brilliant smile takes over his face.

With the few belongings you wanted to take along packed you make your way to where he left his horse. He gently lifts you up before mounting behind you. His strong arms caging you into their safety as you lean back. The ride isn't too long but still takes some time. Every now and then the slowly thinning tree tops let the stars and moonlight shine through, your friends watching you as your knight in shining armour takes you home. The stars first brought you together and now helped you find your way back to each other. You smile as they twinkle down at you, as if they're winking at you.

Steve's warmth soon isn't enough as the temperature drops. He notices your shivers and slows his horse down to a stop. "Here, take my cloak" is whispered as he drapes it carefully over your shoulders, closing the button on the front so it wouldn't fall off. He carefully arranges it around to make sure the cold can't get to you. "Thank you" you say softly, looking back at him as he gives you another brilliant smile before riding off.

The sun is just coming up as you arrive at the castle. The last remains of the stars slowly fading away. You're glad they watched over your and Steve's journey back to his beautiful home.

The castle was impressive, grey stones with moss between them. The city in front of it big and beautiful. It looked well taken care of and deep in your heart you knew your Stevie would take care of his people. His horse slowly trotts through the round gate into the walls of the castle. You're greeted with a stunning fountain in the middle of a courtyard and an unimpressed redhead. You've seen her the day before.

"Care to explain why you snuck out without telling anyone where you went to?" She snaps at the man behind you. He stops his horse and shifts a bit. "I've been back in Evrat" he says calmly as if this woman wasn't furious at him. He dismounts his horse and gently helps you down.

"Evrat? Without protection? Steve!" She sounds exhausted. "You could have at the very least have taken Bucky!" Her hands are in the air before they find their place at her hips.

"You know I couldn't have done that. Because it would have woken you. And you either wouldn't have let me go or you would have told Ma." You perk up at that. His mom was still alive. She was here.

"Yeah because it's stupid to go to Evrat on your own. And for what? A woman?" She looked at you but her face gave away that she meant no offense. "Not just a woman. She's my friend! I couldn't lose her again. Not when I've spent years trying to find her." He argued, dropping the calm suddenly. He's met with a huff of frustration and a sigh.

"I'm in charge of your protection. I can't protect you if you manipulate my job. Steve... I would have come with you." Her face full of worry. "What if something would have happened?"

"I can protect myself Nat." Just as stubborn as you remember him. She lets out another huff and rolls her eyes but drops the topic, knowing fully well that arguing with Steve was senseless. Stepping closer she extends one of her hands to you. You blink at it for a moment but decide to take up her offer. She introduces herself as Natasha and you give her your name. With a nod she looks back to Steve. "Never again." Her finger pointing in his face as she warns him amuses you. As if she wasn't talking to her king. But the king in question gives her a sheepish smile in return, no anger or offense like any other king would conjure. "We'll see about that." He teases before he turns back to you.

Natasha rolls her eyes and marches off towards the brunette guard you've seen yesterday. He seems amused at her frustration and follows her inside.

Your attention is pulled back to the man in front of you. Your Stevie. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his before he leads you inside the castle.

His cloak swishes around you as you follow him through the castle. He has given you a little tour and introduced you to the most important people. Bucky, the brunette guard from yesterday and earlier, his friend even before he met you. Buckys eyes are curious as he eyes you but he stays silent. Next up is Sam, the one who gave you a brilliant smile yesterday.

"Don't worry about Bucky, he's the broody kind" he jokes with another smile as he shakes your hand. "You know what Wilson?" Bucky starts and Steve softly pulls you away from their bickering. "You'll get used to it." He chuckles lowly and directs your gaze to the blonde man from yesterday. "This is Clint, best marksman in the kingdom." Clint gives you another nod and stretches out his hand for you to take. You smile and gently shake it, introducing yourself. Natasha simply gives you another nod.

"Your mom is waiting for you at breakfast." She says, one of her eyebrows lifting at Steve. The later breaks out in a excited grin. "Mom will be so excited to see you again!" He exclaims before he takes your hand and leaves Clint and Natasha with the still bickering men.

The room you enter is warm and cozy. The dark wood of the furniture stands out against the muted tones of the fabrics that are spread around the room. There's fresh flowers on the table surrounded by all kinds of delicious food that up until now you've never even dreamt of eating. Steve squeezes your hand and leads you inside.

"Ah Steve. How generous of you to grace me with your presence" an older blond woman walks in through one of the side doors smirking, clearly teasing with her son. She's dressed in a blue robe with a sun pattern and stops short when she spies you. A few blinks later she sets herself in motion again to cup your face, her smile turning watery. "Oh my little sweetheart" she whispers, her eyes full of adoration before she hugs you tight. You melt into her motherly embrace, your heart filling with warmth. It's been a long time since you had someone being so sincere and joyed to see you. And that after all these years she clearly still remembered you? It brought tears to your own eyes. When she pulls back she's quick to wipe them away, giving you a soft smile. The skin around her eyes crinkles as she does so which reminds you just how long you haven't seen the both of them.

"I'm so glad to have you with us." She says after she whispered your name. "Please sit, eat. You must be starving!" She softly pulls you to the table and makes you sit on one of the plush chairs. Steve follows behind, a fond smile on his face as he watches you two interact. He sits down next to you and starts pouring himself some tea before his mother calls for another set of porcelain. She sits on the other side of you and holds your hand between hers, studying your face.

"You've grown into a beautiful young woman my dear" she says after a moment of silence, her blue eyes shining as they flit over your face. Steve has so many features of her. The later places a cup and plate in front of you and starts preparing your tea for you. Always caring the two of them.

Breakfast is filled with questions, answers and laughter. You're well fed and so happy after you're done. Sarah almost won't let you leave her sight but her son convinces her to let you go. At least to wash up and change your clothes. With your hand in his you follow him through the castle to a room - your room.

It's bright and sunny inside. The four poster bed is surrounded by white see through curtains. There's a vanity across from it and a fireplace nestled between two big windows. You're speechless as you take it in. This was bigger than anywhere you've lived and this was only for guests?

"I'll have the tailor make some dresses for you. For now Natasha has put some in the dresser for you to chose from. Two maids will be here soon to draw you a bath and help you." Steve explains softly as he watches you. You brush your fingertips over the soft bedding and look to him. Bathed in sunlight his hair is almost glowing like a halo. "Don't worry this won't be your room for long. They're getting yours ready at the moment. I want it to be perfect for you." He admits as he steps closer once more. You frown but before you can protest that this is more than enough he cups your cheek with one hand. His eyes are searching yours for a moment. Something flits through them and it's then that you can see him decide something. His hand drops and instead he hugs you tight.

"I missed you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I had to leave you behind. I should have taken care of you, made sure you're safe... I... I'm sorry" his voice is full of emotions as he hugs you tighter. You're about to say something back but he continues. "But I'll take care of you now. You'll never have to miss out on anything. Your word is my command, I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure you're loved and taken care of." He pulls back a bit, his eyes are full of determination and you can see he's not saying something but before you can ask two young women walk in. They bow their heads in front of their king and Steve gives them a smile.

"I'll leave you to it... Once you're done can you inform me?" He looks at one of the maids who nods in return. "Thank you. Take good care of her. The whole relaxing experience okay?" He turns back to you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you in a bit" he whispers as his arms fall to his sides. He takes you in one more time before he leaves.

The bath was strange but wonderful. It's weird to you that someone would assist you in washing yourself but you'd never felt so clean, relaxed and never smelled so good before. You were dressed in a beautiful dress and the women helped you braid your hair. You were so thankful and expressed such which was a bit surprising to them.

Once you were done one of them flitted off to tell Steve you were and within a few minutes he entered your room with a dashing smile.

"You look beautiful" he says softly as he approaches you. You blush as you thank him and try to avoid his eyes but he has different plans. His fingers softly lift your chin so he can look into your eyes. Your stomach feels like a million butterflies dance in it as you look into his beautiful blue ones. He truly was handsome and so kind to you. How could you not have feelings for him? Especially so fast. But he was a king and you were a mere commoner... nothing would ever develop out of your stupid crush.

"Your room is done. Would you like to see it?" Steve asks, his eyes still looking into yours. You nod hesitantly and are met with another dashing smile. He softly takes your hand in his and leads you through the castle. You stop in front of the door next to his room, you remember from the tour he gave you earlier. Your brows furrow a bit. Wasn't the room next to the kings reserved for his queen? Before you can address it and ask Steve about it he opens the door to a sunlit beautiful room. It's bigger than the first room you've been in and decorated in mostly white and and light blue. The bedding is a dark blue with white stitching. When you look closer it's a thousand little stars stitched into the dark blue fabric. You're in awe at that alone.

“I… this is my room? Steve…” he squeezes your hand and looks at you. “It is. Do you like it?” His eyes look hopeful as he asks his silly question. “Like it? I love it! It's breathtaking… thank you” you smile at him before you decide to hug him. He's done more than enough for you but now he gives you such a wonderful room too? “But… it's right next to yours. Doesn't that make it the bridal suite?” You ask and he tenses a bit in your arms.

“Yes… it is.” He licks his lips as he looks at you. “So I need to move out once you get married?” You look from his lips to his eyes. He shakes his head, he seems to be contemplating. “No. Yes? If… you… I mean.” He takes a deep breath and suddenly looks determined. “I want you to be my bride. My future queen. My love. So you wouldn't have to move out unless you want to share my bed.” He says and your jaw almost drops to the floor. You? A queen?

As if he can sense your inner turmoil he softly cups your face again. “You'd be more than perfect being a queen. And you deserve it. You deserve a good life with people who love you. They'll all do… I'll just love you most” he adds the last part in a whisper. You look at him, still a bit unsure but before your thoughts tell you otherwise he softly kisses you. All doubts are out of your brain immediately as his lips softly move against yours.

He loves you. He truly does. And he'll be making sure you'll always feel that way, you'll never only have the stars on your side… now you have him too.

[luneair]

:: Chiron and your pain :: part one

- part two will be Gifts of Chiron -

These are not all applicable, just some examples that you may experience. Aries: Aggressive home life, feeling lonely like all you have is yourself, hard to control or understand your anger, life is seen as something to “survive” as oppose to “living.” Deemed an outcast, which may cause identity and self esteem issues. Sees everything as a threat, very distrustful of others. Others may perceive you as moody and childish. Physical and mental energy can be low, so the approach towards passion doesn't feel worth fighting for.

Taurus: Money struggles were constant throughout life. You have a sense of not being appreciated, you also experience situations where you’ve worked so hard but the outcome is close to nothing. Envy over others who can afford nice things. Unsure of what is important to you, distorted sense of morals and even your physical body. There were people in your life who have taken things from you, or made you feel as though you don't deserve anything. Difficulty seeing the “beauty” in life.

Gemini: Ideas are shot down by others, may experience a pattern of being interrupted when speaking. Can feel as though they are not smart enough. A very high strung demeanor. You may easily feel overwhelmed and anxious. Sometimes you limit yourself by having these excellent ideas, but you just can't seem to put it all together. Poor communication skills. It might have been hard to make meaningful relationships. Others may have perceived you as superficial. You were often not taken seriously by others.

Cancer: Early home life did not feel safe enough. In other cases, the home life simply fell empty, and it could have been perceived as abandonment despite parents/guardians being physically present. Poor emotional regulation, causing a disconnect from intuition. Possessed with the instinct to hide away and become avoidant, people may see this as immature. At risk for acquiring a dependent personality. Can be put in situations where they have to put others first and neglect their own needs.

Leo: The desire to feel special always feels far away. Didn't really get to "have fun" early on, causing a rigid and bleak view of life. There was a lack of inspirational figures in your life. Tendency to doubt yourself and crumble your self esteem. You might find "joy" in the wrong places, for the wrong reasons. Creativity is difficult to manifest. Other's could have made you feel unworthy. You may catch the habit of comparing yourselves with others.

Virgo: Uncertainty has always felt like an enemy personified. Lack of structure causes a muddled mind. In other cases, structure is present, but guardians are not,causing a lack of emotional building. This makes emotions and healing abilities feel foreign. There's a possibility of unhealthy habits appearing. Judgmental towards others and yourself. Can have excellent skills and ideas, but mental stress makes it difficult to articulate. There is a lack of self care, you don’t see yourself as someone who deserves care.

Libra: The identity is unclear, because you're not true to yourself. Identity can also be uncertain due to reflecting other people's temperaments and habits. Can feel like life is always "unfair." At risk of falling into dependency in relationships. Prone to envy. Opinions are vague, so you can be indecisive. Chronic sense of loneliness fuels a desire to be connected. There was vague sense of not feeling important; unlovable. It is often that this position causes a pattern of hurt in relationships.

Scorpio: Life has given you the role of a scapegoat. You find it difficult to trust anyone, even yourself. Craves stability, but circumstances in life prevents a sense of security and safety. This position is often victim to gas-lighting. Lies were common to escape closeness, or simply out of denial. People in your life may have made you feel powerless. At times, you fear the extent of your emotions, as emotional pain feels unbearable. May have lost things important to you throughout life.

Sagittarius: Your world feels cramped, suffocating. A yearning for something "more." Apt to seek a special purpose to base your life on. With no purpose, you feel you're just drifting through life. You probably weren't allowed to be care-free or free-spirited, causing a very cynical perception. In other cases, prominent life events lacked any stability and chaos follows you everywhere. Other people may perceive you as someone who is foolish, and unknowledgeable.

Capricorn: It's as though the world was thrown on your shoulders from the beginning. There is a pressure to succeed, but not always within the context of career or standing. Avoidance of flaws when they are inherit is soul crushing, apt to feel on edge under a collected face. In other cases, there’s a coldness you reflect from how prominent figures in the life treated you. People may have perceived you as “lazy” even when you’ve tried your hardest. Can be untrusting of things that seem to “come easy.” You’re not familiar with being rewarded. There is nothing people can say about what you lack, that you have not told yourself already.

Aquarius: A see-saw sense of feeling trapped in, or feeling outcasted. Relationships are difficult to keep. People often belittled your beliefs and opinions. It was common for you to be left out of groups for being “different” in some way. You’re intellect is questioned and you were made to feel like you weren’t “bright.” Sometimes you stayed in a friendship circle despite not being treated like a friend, all you ever wanted was genuine loyalty. Life always seemed disorderly, causing an anxious temperament. On the other hand, life may have felt uneventful, causing a more restless temperament.

Pisces: Disconnection. This is the state you’re familiar with. A very wishful person. The fantasy in your mind was an escape from the unfortunate and mundane parts of life. Can feel out of place, for example, feeling an “adoption” kind of complex in your own blood family. Pessimism can plague you, as events in the life have felt doom and gloom. Times you were hopeful we’re often shot down. You feel whatever forces at hand (god, fate, universe etc.) are actively against you. There is almost an expectation of disappointment, and a feeling of being “unlucky.”

[missbellie]

Gonna Run Again?- B.E

Synopsis: Unresolved problems always come back, especially those of a gang.

Pair: gang lider!b.e × f!reader

Warnings: Mention of sex. Gang-related activities, drug dealing, use of weapons (knife), and threats of violence. Themes of abandonment, survival and umresolved emocional tension (request are opean!)

Words: 7,8k

Style: Fanfic | Imagine | Headcanons

You don't think you need her. Hell, you’ve never let anyone close enough to make you think you might need them. But Billie… She’s different. At least, that’s how it feels every time you cross paths.

The first time you laid eyes on her, it was a dark, dingy alleyway, and she acted with a strange, slight sympathy.

You were part of Billie's gang: one of the best known in the area where you were. You entered when you were 17, still in school, you were just a kid abandoned by your family and looking for a place to survive. Billie gave you that; Food, money and a house, with one condition: stay and finish studies, and so you did.

Over time, Billie grew more trusting of you, having longer, more intimate conversations. She always took extra care whenever she could, watching you on your missions, making sure you didn't get hurt. She was always easier on you than on others when they weren't looking, and it messed with your mind. All the fucking times.

It messed with your head as much as it did Billie's. There was only one time, and only one time, that things got out of hand after Billie invited you to the office for a drink and have a conversation that ends with clothes on the floor and the two of you on the couch in her office, sweaty. You never spoke about it again, trying your best to keep things professional.

Your job was nothing more or less than selling drugs and cleaning the ass of those you were sent to. And at this time, in this party, your job was to sell, and clean the fat of those who didn't pay the full amount.

The music was loud and the smell of alcohol and cigarettes filled your nostrils, but that was nothing that you weren't used to. You sat at a table in the back of the pub, waiting for one of Billie's customers. You watched people: Some dancing, others drowning their sorrows in drink, others sitting smoking, others sleeping on tables or even making out at a table or in a corner. You narrowed your eyes at the observations. Such surroundings were already familiar to you.

"Hey... You're the... Right?" A man pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked him up and down. You nodded, and indicated the spot in front of you. You pick up your notebook and pen. "Name." Was all you said. "Henry Bitume." The man spoke, his voice deep but calm. You looked for the name on the list, and when you found it, you looked at the grams the man had bought. You opened your suitcase and took out the bag that had 5g written on it.

You set the bag down on the table, and when the man reached for it, you dodged it. “Give me the money. Now.” You said, dry and curt. "Give me that shit." He leaned over to take the bag from your hand, but you pointed your pocketknife at his jaw, making the man sit back down.

"Give me the fucking money now or I'll drill your jaw with this shit, got it?" The man nodded, and took his wallet out of his pocket. "Good boy." You scoffed, smirking, leaning back in your chair. When the man placed the money on the table, you did a quick mental count, and noticed that it was a larger amount than what was requested.

You remained silent, releasing the man with a wave of his hand, who quickly picked up the bag and left. You took the money and put it inside your suitcase, standing up. You made your way to the VIP area, and opened the curtain, immediately identifying the girl. Sitting on a sofa with her legs spread wide open, and smoking, and you felt something pulse stronger just seeing the girl like that. "That's not a ladylike posture." You say, purposely bumping your knee into hers, making her laugh.

"Shut the fuck up and sit down," The girl says, shaking her head. You sit down, placing the money you earned on the table, smiling proudly seeing her satisfied expression. A few seconds passed, you observed the people in the VIP area. Everything was different, more messy but richer. "So, how are things with your girl?" Billie asks, taking a drag on her cigarette You let out a laugh and shake your head. "They're not. We're done."

Billie raises an eyebrow and exhales smoke, which ends up being inhaled by you. "...I told you you needed someone hot and decent." Billie said, shrugging with a smug smile, making you let out a laugh. "C'mon, I thought she was better than this" You reply, sliding down the leather couch, and leaning your head against the back of the couch. "Puff. No one is better than me." She says, smoking her cigar.

You roll your eyes at her arrogance, but there's no denying it—Billie is different. She always has been.

You watch her through the dim haze of the VIP area, the glow of the cigarette in her hand flickering as she exhales slowly, her lips curling into that familiar, smug grin. It does something to you. Something you’d never admit out loud.

She shifts, spreading her legs even wider, completely at ease in her throne-like position. You swallow hard. You’re used to seeing her like this, radiating control, but tonight it feels heavier—like she knows something you don’t.

"You really thought she could keep up with you?" Billie asks, turning to face you fully. She studies you with that sharp gaze, the one that always makes you feel like she’s peeling back your layers, finding the parts of you even you refuse to look at.

"Maybe," you admit, voice low, feeling the weight of her attention press against your skin.

"Hm." She taps her cigarette against the ashtray, then leans in just a little. "You ever think about that night?"

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. You don’t have to. Billie sees the way your jaw tightens, the way your fingers flex against the leather couch.

"Yeah," she murmurs, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Me too."

And just like that, the air shifts.

You remember everything—the heat of her body pressed against yours, the way she tasted like whiskey and smoke, how she had murmured your name against your skin like a prayer. You remember the way her hands had roamed, slow at first, like she was mapping you out, learning what made you shiver. The way she had pulled you into her lap, her fingers digging into your hips, guiding you like she always did—like she owned you.

You shouldn’t. You swore you wouldn’t. But when she tilts her head slightly, lips parting just enough to let a curl of smoke slip past, you find yourself leaning in before you can stop it.

"Shouldn't," you mumble against her lips, but your body betrays you, drawn to her like a goddamn magnet. "I don't care," Billie whispers, and then she’s kissing you.

It’s slow at first, almost teasing, her lips brushing against yours, testing, waiting. Then you’re gripping the back of her neck, dragging her closer, and Billie groans against your mouth, low and deep.

It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s familiar.

Her fingers slip beneath your shirt, dragging along your skin, igniting every nerve in their path. You shift closer, pressing your body against hers, feeling her warmth, the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. "You're a fucking menace," you mutter between kisses, nipping at her bottom lip.

Billie chuckles, dark and knowing. "And you're still mine," she murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You should stop. You won’t.

Billie pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her thumb brushing over your lips, swollen from her kisses. There's something unreadable in her eyes—something dangerous, something intoxicating.

"You gonna run again?" she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. You should. You always do. But tonight, with her hands gripping your waist and her taste lingering on your tongue, you don’t move.

"Not tonight," you whisper, and that's all she needs. Billie smirks, pulling you back in, sealing the promise with another kiss.

That's it babies, first time writting about her, kinda nervous tho (help.

Hope you liked it babies

credits: @cafekitsune

xoxo!¡

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Fixer: Breaking Point

Summary: A string of bad luck has you considering going back to your ex-husband.

Warnings: Manipulation, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part of the Yours AU

Fired. Again. You don't know what happened. Everything was going so well! You even had a wonderful performance review! But then one mistake, one upset high profile client, and it's all gone.

Maybe August was right. You'll never be anything without him.

You'd been so certain when you handed him the divorce papers. Certain he was holding you back, keeping you beneath him in every sense. And you had done well for the first several years after!

Then, after one party your luck seemed to turn south. The morning after your boss had complained about your behavior. You had no idea what he was talking about. Neither did your co-workers. But it didn't matter, you were fired.

Your coworkers were willing to be a reference and you were quick to find another job. Soon after, though, you were blindsided yet again. It felt like the universe was out to get you.

The library computers provided a good place to start looking into new jobs. You weren't sure you could find anything cheaper than the closet you call an apartment but at least you can find ways to cut spending while you applied to fast food jobs all day. Plus, if you stay put, you're less likely to have the urge to buy anything, right?

On the far end of the computer terminals, Jack O'Malley is discreetly keeping an eye on you. He'd been hired by your ex-husband to drive you back to him. "Preferably crawling, but I'll take what I get," Walker had sneered. He'd seen you at a work party and hated that you were doing so well without him.

Of course Jack took the job. So long as he prioritized Nick's work, he was allowed to take side jobs. Though only if they didn't break Nick's rules. This job was close to breaking a few of them but it straddled the line just enough Jack felt okay about it.

Well at least he used to feel okay about it. He'd heard those stories about abusers wanting to break strong people to make themselves feel better. He thought it was pop psych stuff. The abusers he'd seen went after weak people who wouldn't fight back. He had forgotten to account for kind people.

Jack looked into your history, and Walker's, in between bouts of getting you fired. You were a good person who'd had a bright future until Walker stepped in. The more Jack looked into Walker, the more he hated himself for taking the guy's money.

And now you're here at the library. He's remotely connected to your terminal, seeing everything you're doing. Even after all you've been through, even with tears in your eyes, you're still looking for ways to survive on your own. Jack can't help but be in awe of your strength.

He knows he should probably tell you what's been going on. Give you the evidence to take to the police or something. But the police aren't always reliable in these matters and Jack's never been good at the direct route.

The idea comes to him in a flash. He quickly writes up an email to Nick, attaching some of the worst evidence against August, leaving out some of his own influence on your current situation. He asks permission to help you out, keep you from going back to your loser ex.

After he sends the email he doesn't wait for permission. He posts an impromptu job opening that he'll make sure you find. Might get a few other unwanted applicants but that'll just make the interview feel more legitimate. He doesn't actually need an assistant, but that'll just make your job that much easier. And who doesn't love easy money?

He gets a reply from Nick:

Send Rogers to punch the mustache off him. If he wanted his wife to stay he should've treated her better.

Relieved Jack gets back to work making sure you find and apply for the fake job.

Jack returns to his apartment feeling good. You'd applied for the job and he was going to make sure to call you tomorrow about it. Maybe look up a few tasks you could do for him to make things feel legitimate.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Nick in his living room. With a knife.

"That request you sent me earlier, Jack? I know that wasn't the whole truth."

Jack's mouth is dry, his blood turned to ice.

"You shouldn't have taken this job. We're supposed to be making our people feel safe. Word gets out we forced a woman to go crawling back to her asshole ex, people lose faith in us. Maybe stop being so willing to pay us. Then it becomes a whole mess."

Jack nods, not trusting himself to speak.

"But, you're making amends in your own way," Nick cheerfully says, putting away his knife. "You're going to take very good care of this girl, right? Gonna fix all her problems?"

Jack nods, "yes, Sir."

"Good." Nick goes to walk by him but, faster than Jack can react, Nick kicks his leg, dropping him to his knees. He pulls Jack's hair, exposing his neck, and brings the knife back out, pressing it just enough to draw blood.

"You do something stupid like this again and I'll make sure you get made an example of," he growls. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Jack whimpers.

Nick removes the knife and pushes Jack's torso onto the ground before walking out of the apartment.

Jack takes in a deep breath. Yeah, lesson learned.

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989;

@lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

~

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

~

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

~

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

~

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[robin374]

do you suppose we could have some platonic Alastor headcanons with a reader who loves old fashioned things? (special interest go brrrr) like sure modern technology is nice and convenient and all that, but there’s just something so special about a vintage radio or gramophone.

I feel like he’d really appreciate someone who truly appreciates the style of the early/mid 1900’s

please and thank you🎙️♥️

Born and died in the wrong timeline

When you were alive, you saw the evolution of new technology. And ironically, you died because of one of the acclaimed automated cars, which apparently didn't know how to brake.

Everyone in your class had an own phone early, when they were 12 years old they already had it. You didn't seem to be excited to have one though, you just saw it as a thing to communicate with other people, just like old telephones and even letters. You received your first phone when you were 15, and for the suprise of your you parents, you didn't use it much.

At university, you decided to go for a history degree, you've always liked to see old technology. From the first radio to planes and even tanks. But what amazed you the most, was how the humankind managed to create a device where you could talk to someone kilometers (miles for the americans, love u guys <3) away. That's why, when you finished your history degree you decided to specialize in audiovisual communication history.

Your death was pretty unfair to be honest, you were young and you were in the wrong place and at the wrong time. You happened to be getting out of an antiques store after having saved enough money for the antique telephone. You swore that you had looked both ways the moment you were going to walk through the crosswalk, but you didn't hear the hybrid automated car going to 90km/h in a city area, which was illegal. Then, it hit you, you didn't even feel pain, you just saw the light approaching quickly and then... boom. Everything black.

You woke up to some screams and insults, were you alive? Really? Did you survive that massive hit? Your body manged to gain enough energy to open your eyes. You gasped, why was the sky red? "Oh, just because the little princess wants to be nice ans save a newbie, I've got to fuck off and wait. I'm the boss of I.M.P, woman! I've got some work to do!" Then, the man - at least you thought it was a man- bypassed you and the supposed princess, and drove to somewhere. She apologized for the attitude of her people and introduced herself as Charlie, the Princess of Hell. Wait... Hell? How did you end up down there? Was it because you stole those alcohol bottles from the gorcery store in your town? Really?

Now to the actual ask (LMAO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY).

Once you had settled in your room and made friends with everyone, you wanted to have a walk around and see if there was anything interesting in the streets. Interesting in terms of: "Let's see if there's an antique store since there's people of all epochs!" And not in terms of: "Oh someone is fucking that dismembered body! I'm going to back away!"

Near Cannibal Town you saw what now is one of your favourites stores in all Hell. An antiques store where they sell technologies and objects from every single decade since after the roman empire. You spent most of your days there, not that you had anything better to do, you even got to know the owner of the store.

However, one day, you entered the store and just before you could greet the owner, you saw a familiar face. Alastor was there with a 1920s, a Gloritone Chapel Radio to be specific. You must've look really really shocked because the moment you entered and freezed there, the owner tried to explain that Alastor was a friend too.

"No need to be afraid, Y/N! Alastor is my friend too!" What the heeelll???? Oh my god no wayayayyy (y'know that audio?)

Alastor was suprised to see you there too. He didn't expect you, a young devil who died not so long ago, in an antique store. Most of the youngsters were looking at Vox's television and getting hypnotized by them. So, why were you there? "Hello there, dear Y/N! I was looking for a radio to decorate the hotel's lobby, want to help me?" He was actually testing you, to see if you just happened to be there beucase of coincidence or not. "Erm, I actually think that a Philleta Radio would suit more the aesthetic of the Hazbin Hotel." Ho was flabbergasted, he didn't know anyone, except for himself to know that much about radios. "It's a radio from the 70s - 80s..." You said a bit insecure now that no one was saying anything. "Or the one that Alastor is holding is also a good option." You really didn't want to make him mad. After having a small debate about which radio was the best, you and alastor decided that the Gloritone Chapel Radio was the best option. Alastor said that "to make you happy" he would decorate it with some leaves around.

After that encounter, you and the radio demon bacame really good friends. You found out that he was just an old man who liked his hobby -without counting the killing one- , and he found out that you were a young person who had been born in the wrong generation.

He always sad things like: "Oh if justyou saw the golden years of the radio...!" "You youngsters don't know how it was to listen to the radio all day!"

Since that day, Charlie proclaimed you two as the Radio Besties. Alastor preferred the term of "the cultured ones" but you know, Charlie is on her own happy world.

He's either on your room looking at your old devices and having a little more faith for the humanity up there or he's dragging you down the stairs to listen to the radio.

When he found out that you were also interested in old television he got a little mad at you. He said things like: "You can't do things like these with a television" or "Television makes demons dumb, just look at them." As he showed you demons watching porn. He was just trying to convince you that radio was better than the radio. However, when you told him that people still listened to the radio in the 21st century he calmed down. Just a little bit, though.