#people who don't like gray hair are weak

[ballpitwitch]

𝐊𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐍𝐉 - 𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟖/𝟐𝟑

[andy-clutterbuck]

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Matters of Fact

CW: Mentions of death, mentions of mind-altering drug use, manipulation.

The Arkham Knight knows what he is, until he doesn't ~1.2k words

The Arkham Knight is a bad person. He knows this. Knows it even as he slips under the covers of your bed. Knows it when he leaves grime and dirt tracked across your windowsill and the floor of your room.

The Arkham Knight is cruel. He knows this when he leaves after you ask him to stay. Knows this when he disappears for days on end to plan his revenge, to train his men.

Knows it when he makes you cry and beg for someone he isn't.

The Arkham Knight is twisted. He knows this when he kills the man who gave you his number. He knows it when he holds you close and consoles you, tells you that guy wasn't worth dating anyway.

Knows it when he tells you that you don't need anyone but him.

The Arkham Knight is obsessed. He knows this because he dreams of the way your lips feel against his skin, the way your fingers thread through his hair, the way your pulse flutters against his hand.

He knows this because he can't seem to leave you alone, even if it would be better for you, and for him.

The Arkham Knight is a liar. He knows this when he tells you Bruce is going to keep him from seeing you. That his enemies will hunt you down, hurt you to get to him. That it's safer, to be tucked away in his base with him.

The Arkham Knight is mean. He knows this when you yell at him over his men stopping you from leaving his base. He knows it when he yells right back, when he grins wickedly as you snap at him in return.

Knows it when you don't shy away as he stalks towards you, tugging off his helmet and grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss.

Knows it when you slam your fist against the plates of his armor before kissing him right back.

The Arkham Knight is sick, knows it when he slips a fine powder into your drink the night he takes over Gotham. It's nothing that'll hurt you, at least, that's what he tells himself.

The drug only makes you happy, relaxed, more compliant when he drags you from safe house to safe house without explanation.

The Arkham Knight is a mess. He knows this because he's not exactly the Arkham Knight anymore. His symbol torn from his chest, his helmet no longer blue but a bloody red. He knows this because he's crying.

He knows this because he's on his knees in front of you, and you look like you don't if you're going to hit him or hug him.

He knows he deserves to be hit. But he so desperately wants you to hug him. You don't do either. You kiss him. His heart is in his throat. He thinks maybe there's a chance for him.

He's not sure what that chance is. Maybe it's to be good. To be better. To really be with you.

But then you say goodbye. Then you break his heart. Then you leave.

He knows he deserves it for what he's done.

Red Hood knows he isn't good. He's not completely bad, but he's definitely not good. He knows this because people flinch when he saves them. He knows this because there's a trail of bodies in his wake.

But he also knows every single one of them deserved it. He thinks maybe that does make him evil.

Red Hood aches for you. He knows this because he finds himself following the familiar path to your apartment before catching himself.

He knows this because he still dreams of you curled at his side, your mouth pressing kisses to his jaw, your fingers tracing the lines of his back.

Red Hood is a shell of a man. He knows this because he goes back to his dirty, disrepaired apartment, and all he sees is gray.

He knows this because his days and nights are robotic, driven only by the mission. The hole that the death of Batman left in Gotham.

Red Hood is weak. He knows this because he opened the door when you came to his apartment. He knows this because he let you sleep on his bed while he stayed on the couch, unable to rest knowing you're so close but so far from him.

Red Hood is in love with you. He knows this because he'd do anything you asked, and everything you won't.

He knows this because when you break down in the morning over breakfast, when you finally tell him why you came to him, he tugs you to his chest and lets you cry.

Red Hood has no mercy. He knows this because he takes his time killing the man who frightened you. He knows this because he doesn't react to the begging, the screams, the terror in his eyes.

He only feels a sick sense of satisfaction, knowing you won't have to be scared of that disgusting creep ever again.

Jason Todd is dumbfounded by you. You keep showing up at his apartment door. He keeps letting you in, as if he could ever turn you away. You keep making him meals, filling his fridge, adding your things to his apartment.

There's throw pillows and blankets on his couch with your favorite colors. Your favorite movie is paused on the TV. You sleep in his bed more often than not, even if he never joins you.

Jason Todd has no idea how to treat you. He's only even made mistakes with you, only ever done things that should terrify you and drive you away.

But you keep coming back, even after the body of the man who hurt you was found by the police.

Jason Todd wants to be good, at least for you. So he tries. He knows he isn't great at words, but he tries to soften his voice. He knows his touch is rough, so he tries to be still and gentle when you lean into his side.

He knows he's scary looking, so he tries to be smaller when you're around. He knows what he does is dangerous, so he sets up even better security in his apartment, and with permission, yours.

He knows there's something wrong with him, so he reminds you not to hang around him so much.

He doesn't know why you don't listen. Doesn't know why you kiss his cheek, why you start to lead him from the couch to sleep next to you in his bed.

He doesn't know why you sleep curled at his side, on his chest, a leg thrown over his thigh. He knows a lot of things, knows a lot about you.

But does he understand why you kiss his scars and nuzzle his shoulder?

No. Absolutely not. But he doesn't think he needs to. Not when you tell him you'd like to sell your apartment. Not when he gets to help you move the last of your things to his your shared bedroom.

Not when he knows he loves you. Not when you say you love him. Not when he knows it's true.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[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)

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly

Hi Everyone, this is my first fan fiction. I love Joel Miller and Pedro and I just wanted to write something about him/them. I was inspired by the many many many fantastic fics I've read and all their writers. You all are amazing. I don't know what I'm doing so, if I do something wrong, please let me know and I'll adjust. Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: violence, cursing, gore, blood. (There Will Be Smut, eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. I will give her some physical descriptions because she is me for this one but I've taken to writing her and You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking, a little annoying. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: Joel saves your life and takes you back to Jackson.

Chapter 1: Him.

It all happens so fast. You step on that fallen fucking branch and it snaps. It feels so loud in the eerie quiet of the forest, like an explosion. Your heart almost burst in your chest, and the clicker you were hiding from, praying would pass you by, turns on the stumps left of its heels and comes towards you. Its limbs flailing, but at a speed that seems impossible. Next, you’re on the ground, pushing the things’ rotting neck and shoulders as hard as you can to keep its snapping jaws from your face, when suddenly, with the sound of a shot, the head splinters, and bloody debris falls onto the skin of your face as the clicker’s strength weakens and its weight falls against you.

Your brain can’t catch up with what is happening as the corpse is lifted off you and the sound of a man’s voice starts to come through as if you’re hearing it under water. “ANSWER ME!” You finally make out the words, “WERE YOU BIT?” You find your voice, shaky but still strong, matching the man’s intensity, “I DON’T KNOW.” You hear him sigh, almost as if he’s irritated rather than fearful. You still can’t see him clearly, the viscera of brain matter from the clicker being shot above you still blurring your vision, along with the loss of your black framed glasses that helped you see, even if the prescription wasn’t exactly right. Damnit, where are they now? You wipe your face as best you can and move your mass of black hair streaked with gray out of the way as the man, who you can now see is large, broad shouldered, only being able to make out his shape without your glasses. He grabs at your collar and moves your head from side to side to check your face and neck, and then pulls you up to a standing position. You’re weak on your legs after the, let’s face it, near fucking death experience you just had, and reach out to the man, grabbing his hand for balance, after you seem steady and not a second before, he pulls his hand back and squeezes his fist like you burned him. Okay, man, just trying not to fall over again.

“Roll up your sleeves and show me your hands and arms, both sides. NOW!” You do just that. His brow furrows at the site of the tattoos covering your arms, like he’s wondering how you got them all, and trying to figure out if it was before the world ended, or after. How old you would have been, and if you could have gotten them all before. You can see the gears turning, then it seems he finally deems you unbitten and therefore not an immediate threat, but certainly not safe. “What are you doing out here alone, where are your people?” He says while looking around him, checking his six or whatever the fuck, you wonder if he was in the military or something, he seems like a soldier but also like maybe the Jason Borne kind. You never got to see the sequel they announced before it all happened, sequels usually sucked anyway. God, you miss movies.

“What is wrong with you, kid, you got brain damage? Answer my questions,” the man says, still more irritated with you than anything else. Kid? You’re fucking 40. Whatever. “Um, no brain damage that I know of, but I have a theory that I had an undiagnosed concussion as a teenager, um, but I’m out here trying to not get eaten by clickers, or raiders, or murdered, or worse and trying not to starve. Also, no people. I have no people.” You ramble quickly and the man sighs, AGAIN. You look down and see a rough black outline in the grass below and- “Oh, thank fuck.”

You reach down, clean them off on the part of your black long sleeved shirt that doesn’t have blood or clicker gunk on it and put them on with a long sigh of relief, “Do you know how hard it was to find glasses that actually helped me see and hold onto them and not break them in this shit show of an existence…” another sigh of relief as you open your eyes to finally look at the man who saved your life and already seems like he wants to take it back from you and Holy shit. He’s hot, there’s no other way to put it. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen on planet earth, and you’ve just ran your goddamn smart mouth like a fucking moron this entire time. Without the decency to be quiet and nervous in front of, again, THE HOTTEST PERSON YOU HAVE EVER SEEN. You choke on your own thoughts and wide-eyed look into his eyes, they’re chocolate brown and filled with life and emotion, he’s gruff and scary but his eyes…god, they betray him. His hair is just below his ears, curled and brown with slices of gray throughout. His face is worn, scarred, like he’s been through shit, you know because you have too. His nose is like a roman god’s, aquiline and fucking beautiful. He’s got a patchy beard the same two colors as his curly hair and his lips are full and pouty with a mustache and you wonder how it would scratch if he put his mouth on your neck. Wait, what the fuck. I mean he’s hot but instantly thinking of him kissing your neck… relax bitch.

He clears his throat, looking at you like you have two heads and sighs. He really likes to sigh. Then he finally speaks in a stern but soft voice, “Okay, look, don’t know why, but I believe you when you say you’re alone, your eyes look like you haven’t eaten in a few days, that true?” You nod and he seems relieved that you don’t start speaking again, so you stick with it and stay silent. His southern drawl continues, “I come from a community. If you want, I’ll take ya there. Food, shelter, medical. You gotta contribute and you gotta behave. Might want to watch that smart mouth of yours until people start trustin’ you, or maybe forever.” You look at him, tears threatening to fall, turning away to shield him or yourself, you’re not sure. Food. Shelter. Medical. My god how is this possible. He takes this time to look away from you and retrieve jerky from his pack which he holds out for you, and you take it. “Thank you...” you say in the quietest voice you think you’ve ever used realizing you don’t know his name. “Joel, name’s Joel Miller.” He nods and points his head in the direction he wants you to walk. Looking at your hair he says, “C’mon Ash,” and he follows just behind you. What you don’t see is the uptick of his lip on one side that reveals a dimple you’ve yet to witness on his beautiful face and his eyes linger on you for far too long when he should be watching your surroundings. That’s what you don’t see.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

You Didn't Save me (I begged You Not To)

Lex Luthor is not a good man.

He is a literal supervillain, he's also more than aware of the consent issues of what he did when he created Connor.

Yet he is surprised by how furious Superman is making him.

Not that he isn't always angry with Superman but before it wasn't quite so personal.

It was a bigger issue what Superman stood for what he was but right now he's not picking the fight with Superman but with Clark Kent.

He has spent as much time as possible studying everything about kryptonian's from their weakness to their language.

Essentially, Superman should keep better track of his belongings.

Kon-El means abomination.

Lionel Luthor was never a kind man he knows exactly why he is who he is today. He still has slight scars from his fathers belt. Cruel words that years after his father's death, will still haunt his memories.

When he was younger he was friends with Bruce Wayne before being a Villain was his priority.

He remembers hiding at Wayne Manor a feeling of safety he had never felt before.

He's also more than aware that his old friend is running around as a Bat.

Bruce Wayne even as a child always stood for hope was always ready to change the world to stand for something better.

That's is why years later Lex Luthor is knocking on a door that he's not hundred percent sure he won't be turned away from.

Yet Kon-El means abomination.

"Mr. Luthor I was unaware Master Bruce was expecting you?"

Alfred looks older than Lex remembers for some reason the man always seemed above aging untouchable even by time.

"He's not, I need to speak with him please it's urgent."

He is a Luthor begging is below him, but right now he feels fourteen again, with the belief that the people within Wayne Manor can fix anything.

"Of course. Master Bruce is in his study, I will lead you please follow me Mr. Luthor."

He doesn't bring up how he knows the way. That he once ran chasing after Bruce hiding in that very study. That they had broken a vase playing like little boys did. He doesn't bring up crying, terrified that Alfred had promised him no harm should come to him in these halls.

He doesn't correct how he used to be Master Lex. He lost that privilege long ago.

It's been a very long time since he has laid eyes on Bruce Wayne he's seen the tabloids, even a passing glance at a gala but for some reason he didn't picture slight gray hair, a dark black suit, he imagined a Gotham Academy Uniform or a Nirvana Shirt that Lex always wanted to steel but never quite worked up the courage.

He doesn't even hear Alfred's depart he can't tear his eyes away from Bruce.

His throat is dry like all the moisture has somehow left since he walked through the doors.

He is Lex Luthor but right now he doesn't remember what that means.

"Kon-El means abomination did you know that?"

His voice weak. Bruce's face doesn't change, blank.

" I am not my Father. I don't know what to do but I refuse for my child to think he isn't loved by at least one of his parents."

He breathes.

"All those year ago, you told me that you would help that all I had to do was ask, I was an idiot, it's too late for me but not for him."

Bruce's voice startles him he hasn't realized how deep in his own mind he had sank.

"All you had to do was ask."

Bruce's face painted in the same smirk as if they were eighteen again smoking on the manors roof.

Lex Luthor is not a good person, but for Connor Luthor he will try he will rebuild bridges, bend his pride he will beg on his knees.

He never understood how a parent should be or what it really meant to wake up everyday and have your whole being dedicated to loving and protecting something.

As he watches the rise and fall of his child's chest wrapped in the arms of the third Robin safe in his penthouse behind security straight from Wayne Enterprises and he doesn't regret it.

He know's he would do it all over again and when next Sunday comes and he gets a invite to brunch that he never throught he would see again he knows it was all for the better.

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 1:

Secrets hidden in plain sight

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

Warnings: mention of domestic violence and abusive relationship. Reader is married and has a son.

Summary: Spencer meets the son and wife of one of the police officers they are helping at the moment. There's something strange about them.

You could swear that William had made it his life's mission to turn you gray as soon as possible. You couldn't look away for a second and he'd disappear into the crowd. To make matters worse, you were at the police station to drop off your husband's lunch, which he had forgotten at home. You planned to drop it off and leave as quickly as you could, as the whole atmosphere always made you uncomfortable, but it wasn't as if you felt comfortable anywhere.

You knew he had to be somewhere in there, so you started searching the rooms as quickly as possible, passing the other police officers who were looking at you in confusion and trying not to let despair take over. William was safe in there. It wasn't because Steve's colleagues looked away when you appeared injured that they would do your son any harm.

You just prayed you'd find William before Steve did, or you'd never hear the end of how you didn't take care of his son properly. The son he barely remembered he had, even though they lived in the same house.

"Willy? Willy! Thank God!" you exclaimed, seeing your little 5-year-old son's head from afar and approaching at a fast pace. "Don't ever do that again, William! You've got me worried to death!"

The boy at least had the decency to look embarrassed as he whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were his mother I would have taken him to you," a voice said.

That's when you became aware of the presence of a strange man, one you'd never seen in the police station before and who wasn't wearing a uniform. Tense, you stood in front of Willy and looked at him suspiciously. He was tall, with brown curls adorning a face that would have made you blush if you were still at college, but at the moment, he was the suspicious man talking to your son.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and showed you his ID. "Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. We're helping with the case of the missing girls."

Spencer avoided frowning when he saw that even your identity didn't completely reassure you, you still looked as tense as before, even though you were no longer hiding your child behind your body. Being a profiler, he couldn't help but analyze other people, focusing on the way you looked tired, with dark circles under your eyes and your skin pale in an almost unhealthy way, your long-sleeved shirt being too hot. You didn't seem to be attacking him, you seemed to be defending yourself. As if you genuinely believed that Spencer was going to hurt you. It was strange.

"Mom, he's a wizard! It's incredible!" William exclaimed, attracting their attention.

You turned your focus away from Spencer for a moment, giving your son a weak smile as you stroked his hair, even though you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Um..." Spencer began, and you turned to see what he was going to say. "I thought it would be a good idea to distract him with magic tricks, you know? While I couldn't find his parents."

Forcing yourself to relax, you took a deep breath before flashing your most genuine forced smile at the FBI agent.

"Thank you for that. He's so hyper."

"No need to thank me, he was a great stagehand."

The doctor's smile seemed genuine in a way you hadn't seen in a long time and it almost unsettled you. You didn't like that, you couldn't have predicted what would come next. With Steve, you almost always knew what to do. When to send William to his room so he wouldn't see anything that would traumatize him, when to apologize, and when to stay silent. Spencer Reid was a valley of strangeness that you decided you hated.

"There you are! I thought you weren't coming." You heard the grumble of that familiar voice, the heavy footsteps coming closer and closer and you had to remind yourself that he wouldn't do anything in public.

"I was just... a little late."

Spencer knew exactly how to recognize fear when he saw it. It was an instinctive reaction, the immediate shudder when she heard the voice of the policeman approaching the three of them. The man was part of the search team he had been introduced to earlier. No one worth paying much attention to so far.

"Dad." William spoke, much more withdrawn than before, albeit with a small smile on his face.

Reid understood what he was doing; the boy was waiting for an instruction from his mother. He had seen enough tense family dynamics in his life.

When you left, going out with Steve - your husband, probably, the rings matched - her gaze met Spencer's again. What he saw there made any explanation unnecessary.

- Hey, Reid. Come and look at this. - Derek called out.

Distracted by work for the rest of the day, Spencer still couldn't get his gaze off his head. It was empty. Without any kind of hope. Without even the desperation that would at least indicate that you were trying to ask for help.

"Morgan," he said at a random moment in the day, making his friend turn to him, "how often do you think women accept abuse at home because they have children?"

Derek snorted.

"In my experience? All the time."

That made his stomach sink.

In the next chapter: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All || Challengers

Part I: Sugar & Spice

AN: Oh my god, taking a 6 week summer course 0/10 don't recommend. Seriously, y'all I'm sorry this took so long, I've had assignments due every week and I still have 2 more weeks to go so it will be awhile before another update, but oh my gosh guys, thank you so goddamn much to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented! This chapter is hella long so hopefully this will make up to you! I've never written a character that's messy nor have I written a toxic friendship so I'm praying that it's somewhat accurate.

Trigger warnings: It gets real hot and heavy by the end of the chapter so MDNI!

Word Count: 6.3k

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopeless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everdayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey @summerssoverover @hummusxx @callumturnerwife23 @whitewashedghanian @brunettegirl

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don’t know if you’ll get the notification.

Part Two: Maneaters

THREE MONTHS EARLIER - MAY, 2006

For the past ten minutes, Gianna had done nothing but blankly stare up at the ceiling of her sun filled bedroom. Splayed out on the soft, gray carpet, she laid in the middle of the floor as "Girl" by Destiny's Child played quietly in the background. A slow release of air escaped her lips, a weak effort to calm her overwhelmed mind that was currently battling a maelstrom of emotions. Gianna lifted her head up from the carpet and looked to her right.

"Maybe I was too hasty with breaking up with Drew," she remarked, a note of doubt creeping into her voice and tainting her usual confidence.

A small, thoughtful frown creasing her features before letting her head drop back on the floor with a soft thud.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Gia?"

Gianna wasn’t alone in her bedroom. Glancing sideways, her gaze landed on waves of brunette hair, warm golden skin, and nude plump lips. Tashi’s and Gianna’s heads laid beside one another, their bodies sprawled in the opposite direction.

"He was not worthy of any of your attention," Tashi stated, a sneer curling her lips. "Drew failed to realize who was the prize in your relationship," she added

For Gianna and Tashi, this was not an uncommon occurrence, lying side-by-side on the floor of Gianna's bedroom discussing tennis or boys. But, it was this aspect of their friendship that raised more than a few people's eyebrows, including both of their parents. Tashi exerted an unhealthy amount of influence over Gianna's love life. Gianna could probably count on one hand the amount of boyfriends she dumped based solely on Tashi’s input. There was always some type of flaw, big or small, which Tashi would zero in on to determine whether or not if a boy was right for Gianna. And was that oh so terrible?

Tashi was only looking out for her friend, weeding out the bad apples until Gianna meets the perfect guy. However, deep down they both know there was never going to be a boy that would meet Tashi's ever changing standards. There was no point, not when Tashi Duncan was the standard by which all boys would be judged and there was no one comparable to her, she was the cream of the crop.

"Drew's a little forgetful, but there could be worst qualities in a boyfriend," Gianna said airily.

"He's a future CTE candidate, Gia," Tashi said flatly. "How many matches did Drew 'forget' to come to?"

"He has his own football games and practices he has to attend," Gianna excused.

Tashi scoffed, "Doing what, riding the bench?" she retorted. "You need a boy who’s utterly devoted to you, worships the ground you step on," Tashi reasoned.

Gianna let out a dry, breathy laugh which sounded more like an exhale of air. Turning her head, she looked back up at the ceiling with her hands resting on her stomach.

"That's the difference between you me and Tash," Gianna began, looking back over to her. "I don’t want to be deified by a boy," she revealed, shaking her head.

"Why? Is it because my devotion is enough for you?" Tashi questioned, a smirk on her lips.

"Yeah, something like that," Gianna answered, her own lips quirking upwards.

"Hey," Tashi called, raising her pinky finger. "Pinky promise boys won"t come between us,"

"Easiest promise to keep," Gianna said, lifting up her pinky finger. "I promise boys will not come between us," she swore, hooking her finger with Tashi's.

Tilting her head forward, Tashi pressed a kiss to Gianna's forehead.

"We don't need them anyway, not when we have each other,"

~~~x~~~

There was nothing but Gianna's breathing and her music blasting as she tuned out the world. Her feet barely touched the ground as her arms pumped quickly back and forth at her side. It was a beautiful day for a morning run, the sky cerulean blue, littered with a few wispy clouds. Gianna's skin was hot and flushed, and sweat beaded at her hairline; the hot, humid summer air biting at her lungs. Luckily, a faint breeze kept off the worst of the heat.

As the notes of "If" by Janet Jackson came to end, Gianna had finished her run. Her pace slowed to a jog, then to a walking pace with her eyes closed, catching her breath.

"On your left,"

Gianna's eyes popped open to see a familiar, strawberry blond haired boy next to her, his tennis gear resting on his shoulder. A breathy chuckle left Gianna as the beat of "I Wanna Be Down" floated into her ears. Pausing the iPod tucked away in her arm band, she removed her earbud on her left side.

"Hey you!" Gianna greeted, smiling at Art and coming to a stop.

"Hey Gianna," he greeted back, with a shy smile of his own. "I didn't expect to see you out here until later on at the match," he commented.

"Oh, why is that?"

"I figured you'd be resting from your match yesterday," Art replied. "It's well earned after all,"

Gianna gave a small, amused huff, "It couldn't be any clearer that you have not met father yet," she joked, shaking her head. "This is punishment for losing to Irina in the semifinals," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Art frowned slightly, "That's not really fair," he remarked, adjusting his grip on his bag. "A line call decided your match," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, if I played smarter and better, then it wouldn't have," Gianna countered easily. "My dad believes the same," she added, crossing her arms together.

"Your dad takes your tennis career pretty seriously, it's admirable," Art commented. "Most parents would just treat it as expensive hobby,"

"I hope he would he would take it serious, he is my coach after all," Gianna revealed, watching Art's eyes slightly widen in surprise.

"Guess that explains why you didn't want Patrick and I to walk you back last night," Art noted. "You were already past your curfew, but then to show up with two boys by your side…" he trailed off, sucking his teeth . "I'm sure that would’ve made for a fun conversation," he joked.

"Trust me, my dad would've gotten creative with his workout plan had the three of us shown up together," she assured. "You headed to the stadium?" she asked, nodding her head at his gear.

"Yeah, gotta start preparing for the big match today," he answered.

"Mind if I walk with you there? It would be a great cool down for me,"

"As if I would say no to Gianna Langdon," Art responded, grinning at her.

Walking alongside each other, the two of them found themselves consumed in idle chit chat. Art was an only child, Gianna was the youngest of four siblings. He started playing tennis because his parents took him to a match, she began playing because her father withdrew her from ballet after he saw her play one match of rec tennis. Art was born and raised in Upstate New York, Gianna was raised on a ranch in New Orleans most of her life until moving to California.

"I've always wanted to meet a real life cowgirl," he teased.

They drifted into a brief, companionable silence for a moment before a thought occurred to Gianna. She turned her head in Art's direction, smiling a little.

"So, a little birdie told me, this is a high stakes match today," Gianna mentioned, a knowing smirk on her lips.

"You could say that," he agreed sheepishly, his face instantly flushing.

"I also heard that some fun was had last night," Gianna hinted, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Art's face reddened deeper, "We did..."

"A shame I had to miss it, but you know what they say," Gianna began, interlocking her fingers behind her back. "Three's a party, four is a crowd," she quoted, with a small shrug.

"Not with you it wouldn't have been," Art disagreed quickly, looking over at her.

His intense eyes stared at her, through her. With it being daylight, Gianna could now fully appreciate how striking his eyes were. One was blue, while the other was partially brown and blue. Gianna let a bashful laugh, looking ahead to escape Art's gaze while pointedly ignoring the warmth blossoming within her. In the distance, the Arthur Ashe Stadium was peeking over the horizon.

"Hey Gianna," Art called, as the two stopped at the gates of the Billie Jean King Tennis Center.

"Yeah?"

"I’ve got a question for you that I’ve been dying ask you," Art said, both turning to face each other.

"Ask away," she answered, with a chuckle.

Art glanced down at the Gianna, completely towering over her.

"Why didn't you and Tashi compete in the girls duo this year?" Art questioned. "You two would've mopped the floor with your competition as you usually do," he remarked, a small, exhaling laugh leaving him.

"Well, I couldn’t do the girls singles, the mixed doubles, and girls doubles all at the same time. It would’ve been a scheduling nightmare, not to mention downright exhausting, so a decision had to be made," she explained, mindlessly twirling her earbud around in small circles.

"And Tashi decided—"

Her earbud twirling ceased, "Tashi, didn't decide anything. I did," Gianna corrected sharply, feeling a vein pulse at her temple.

Irritation threatened to surface on her face, but Gianna managed to keep her composure. It was that, the implication that she was not capable of making her own decisions as a player without Tashi being her invisible, guiding hand. Momentarily, neither of them said anything. Art's eyes flicked over her face, as if studying her expression.

"What is he looking for?"

"Oh my god, I've offended you, haven't I?" Art realized, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Apology accepted, though I shouldn't have been short with you either," Gianna replied, folding her arms together. "But, you see how you just automatically assumed it was Tashi, when it was me who didn’t want to do it?" she pointed out, sighing tiredly. "It's for that exact reason why I wanted to pursue mixed doubles this year," she went on. "I love Tashi to pieces, but as a tennis player, I needed space from her this tournament," she explained, unfolding her arms to gesture with her hands by pulling them away from one another.

"I really didn’t mean to be the cause of a sore subject," Art promised, sincerity ringing in every word.

A half smile appeared on her face, "Art, I just met you 24 hours ago, you didn't cause this,” Gianna reassured, with a dismissive wave. "No, this year I had a point to prove to silence both my haters and critics," she informed, nodding to herself.

"And what point was that?"

"That I couldn't win without Tashi Duncan by my side," Gianna answered, her eyes unconsciously narrowing in the corners.

"Well, I think you shut them up pretty definitively this tournament," Art said, laughing gently. "You won the mixed doubles championship while essentially playing two on one the entire time," he quipped.

She chuckled, "Maybe," Gianna agreed. "However, I didn't get the chance to face Tashi in singles, winning against her and being crowned the girls singles US Open Champion would've been the ultimate 'fuck you' to those who doubt me," she finished, lightly laughing.

"Had you won against Irina, you think you could've beat Tashi?"”" Art asked.

Gianna contemplated his question, briefly casting her eyes downward while toeing the ground with her sneaker. Her mind flash backed to when she was 15 years old, the bellowing war cry that pierced the air from her when she beat Tashi in the Southern California Junior Sectional Championship. A career-defining moment for Gianna, putting her name on the map once and for all and also signaling that Tashi Duncan was not untouchable as most people wanted to believe.

Gianna's eyes focused back on Art, "I do think I could’ve actually," she said, her mouth quirking up just a tiny bit. "Tashi has beaten me several times, but I also have won against her a handful of times too," she continued, rocking a little back and forth on her feet.

"And what does that feel like, beating Tashi Duncan?" Art questioned, slightly leaning closer to her like they were sharing a secret, but his voice was still loud enough for any passerby to hear.

Gianna let a few seconds pass in silence, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. To win against Tashi was akin to eating caviar, it was a rarity and must be savored. It was Gianna's own kind of adrenaline rush, that feeling of euphoric confidence which she swore got more intense after each victory. This brought a full blown smirk, not of arrogance, but pride on Gianna's features.

"Like David slaying Goalith," she responded, triumphantly. "Although, every time I win against Tashi, I don't know things get….weird between us. Sometimes it's only for a few hours, other times it’s the entire day," she remarked, shaking her head. "This never happens when I lose to her, I mean losing is apart of the game. But with her, it's like she can't believe she lost…" Gianna trailed off.

"To me,"

This mere thought bothered her. It was only a hunch, but it was not for the first time this lurking suspicion wormed itself into the back of her mind. Her own mother implied it, that perhaps, their friendship dynamic was not built upon the sturdiest of foundations. Gianna's parents didn't get it though, Tashi was her only friend that really understood her, pushed her to be her best. Her dominant motivation in playing tennis. Tashi was the one where she could always rely on, no matter what. So, until she had any concrete proof, Gianna would continue to deny that notion.

"Gianna?"

Her eyes snapped back to Art, a light summer breeze blew sending a few strands of his curls across his face. The effortless charm he possessed, Gianna could almost guarantee he was unaware he was using it.

Gianna shook her head a little, "I'm sorry, went into a trance there," she apologized, with an embarrassed chuckle. "Must be the run catching up to me," she claimed. "I've wasted enough of your time, you have a match to prepare for," she reminded.

"Hey, there's no such thing as time wasted when talking with you, Gianna," Art corrected. "Who are you betting on today, me or Patrick?" he asked.

"I'm not a betting woman," Gianna quipped. "May the best player win today," she wished. "And for all I know, I may be staring right at them," she commented.

"Maybe," Art echoed.

~~~x~~~

Jogging up the bleachers to the tennis court, Gianna's Vans clanged against the metallic steps with each step, her skort swishing around her legs and her braids dancing across her shoulders. All around her, spectators cheered loudly in the stands as they all awaited for the the boys singles championship match to begin. Gianna strolled towards the center row, greeted by a cheerful Tashi who stood up from her seat once she saw her friend approach from a distance.

"You left me," Gianna greeted, with a fake pout.

"You were taking too long," Tashi retorted playfully, guiding Gianna to sit next to her.

"Yeah, because I was forced to go on a run this morning," Gianna reminded, laughing while pulling her braids back into a half up half down style.

"I got up early too Gia, to go hit around on the court. The only difference between you and I, is that you got sidetracked," she pointed out.

Gianna turned in her seat, "Sidetracked?" she repeated dryly.

"Yes, sidetracked," Tashi affirmed, shifting to face her. "I saw you and Art this morning on my way back from the courts," she said. "You two, however, were to engrossed in your conversation to notice me," she teased, but there was an edge to her voice.

Cocking her head to the side, Gianna chuckled and reached to lightly grasp Tashi's chin in between her forefinger and thumb.

Gianna leaned forward, their noses almost brushing, "Aww, is someone jealous there's another being blessed with my attention?" she teased back, squeezing Tashi's cheeks lightly.

Tashi shook herself free of Gianna's hand with a smirk of her own.

"Babe, come on, I'm just trying to protect your heart," Tashi informed, rolling her eyes in faux exasperation. "You just got out of a relationship, I don't want you to potentially dive head first into another is all," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

She nodded her head, "Oh, is that right?" Gianna questioned, a bright smile on her face, but a challenging glint in her eyes.

Suddenly, a man over the speakers announced the names of the two contenders in the championship match. Both Tashi and Gianna turned to the court, watching Patrick and Art walk out before drop their gear down on their respective benches.

"Oh my God! Sugar and Spice! Can I please take a picture with you two?"

Gianna's eyes flitted from the court and to the right of her where an adoring fan stood.

"Why, of course!" Gianna exclaimed, waving the girl over. "Tashi, you take the picture, you have the longest arm out of all of us," she stated.

After posing for the photo and signing an autograph for the fan for good measure, Gianna refocused her attention to the boys below. Instantly, she met two pairs of eyes looking back at her and Patrick raised his racket in Tashi and Gianna's direction with a cocky grin. From the corner of her vision, she could see Tashi playfully roll her eyes at Patrick while applauding with the rest of the crowd. Not wanting Art to be left out, Gianna sent a small wave to him which Tashi mirrored, both flashing smiles at him. At this, Art beamed, giving them a brilliant grin as he waved back.

Gianna softly nudged Tashi in the side, "Ignoring your spying—" she began, but Tashi's light scoff interrupted her. "You should know, because I love you so much, that I made sure to put the cherry on top on this match so you can watch some 'real fuckin tennis' today," she informed, lazily looking over to her friend.

"How?" she asked, raising her brow.

"I told Art that I might be looking at the best player after wishing him good luck," Gianna divulged, her lips curling upwards. "I'm sure he relayed that message to Patrick in the spirit of competitiveness," she reasoned smugly, crossing one leg over the other. "Not only are they playing for our numbers, now they're playing to see who I’ll crown as best," she added.

Tashi laid her hand on Gianna's knee, "I could fucking kiss you," she said lowly, squeezing her knee.

A mix of admiration and a hint of hunger sparkled in Tashi's eyes.

"If only, but I don't think Adidas would approve of that," coy smile on her lips

The match began with Patrick being awarded first serve. Bouncing the ball off the blue grass court twice, the brunette lifted his racket to serve it in the non traditional way Gianna has come to know him by. Patrick struck the ball with a resounding pop, as a flash neon yellow went whizzing across the court to Art's side.

He returned the serve with equal force, lobbing it back over the net. In Patrick fashion, he made a big show of returning the hit; a curved shot which flew past Art, who lost his foot and slid a little trying to get to it.

"15-love,"

Immediately, Patrick looked over at the two girls for approval, looking pleased with himself while Art on the other hand gave a look that Gianna could only be described as despair. It went on like that for several minutes, each point scored their heads would whip over to Gianna and Tashi to gauge their reactions, until the boys gradually forgot all about them and did what everyone came here to watch them do. Play some fucking tennis.

Gianna couldn't recall the last time two people looked so hot playing tennis outside of her and Tashi, but Patrick and Art were quickly putting that belief to bed. With every hit that Art made, Patrick would return it with ease. Any advantage that Patrick gained, Art would neutralize it. Their grunts, oh god, don't even let Gianna get started on the grunts echoing in the air, it was the fucking sexiest thing ever to grace her ears. Her body reacted on its own to the sounds, her thighs pressing tighter together against each other than before. Gianna prayed that Tashi hasn’t noticed her reaction yet, but she had an inkling she had because Tashi's grip on her knee had grown in strength.

Another grunt pushed itself past Patrick's lips as he smacked the tennis ball back to Art's side. The impact reverberated in the stadium as Art was able to smoothly counter the shot with a topspin of his, but Patrick came with a drop shot. Sprinting, Art rushed forward to return the ball, but It lands on the ground, his racket only inches away from reaching it.

Patrick Zweig had done it, he was getting Tashi Duncan's and Gianna Langdon's numbers. The dark haired boy turned in their direction and dropped into bow as the girls gave him applause for his performance.

"That was such a godamn good match," Gianna commented, looking at Tashi.

"You see what we were capable of bringing out of them?" Tashi said proudly.

"Ugh, our power!" Gianna exclaimed, a giggle bubbling out of her as Tashi stuck her pinky out for Gianna to link with. A wordless promise between them and Gianna did it without having to think about it.

"Come on, let’s go congratulate the victor," Tashi instructed, standing up and extending her hand out.

Placing her hand in Tashi's, Gianna rose to her feet and two walked away, descending down the bleachers.

"You go on ahead," Gianna replied, coming down the last step. "I'll catch up," she added.

"Hmm," Tashi hummed, her eyes scanning over her in curiosity before leaving towards the exit.

Going in the opposite direction, Gianna made her way back to tennis court and walked to the fence separating the stands and the court. As she approached the fence, she saw Art gathering his gear a bit rougher than necessary.

"On your left!" Gianna called, walking alongside the fence.

Art froze what he was doing and snapped his head up to look in her direction. Instantly, Gianna watched the tension in his shoulders lessen slightly and his jaw unclench.

A small smile tugged at his lips, "Hey you," Art answered, repeating her own words from earlier.

"That was a good match, Donaldson," Gianna complimented, bearing her arms on top of the warm metal.

"Yeah, for Patrick maybe," Art replied, moving closer to the fence. "Seeing how he won the championship and…" he trailed off, now standing in front her.

"Our numbers," Gianna finished.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving that to him, like right now?" Art wondered, attempting to be lighthearted about the situation.

"I like building anticipation, it makes it all the more fun," Gianna joked, causing Art let out a genuine laugh and her smile widened from the sound of it.

"I'm sorry that you were not staring at the best player today, Gianna," Art apologized, his chin dipping a little as he looked down at the ground.

"Hey," she called softly.

Boldly, Gianna reached out to him, using her thumb and index finger to gently lift his chin back up. Her eyes gazed at Art's porcelain neck, as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down at her gesture. Gianna glanced back up at him, his eyes already staring deeply into hers.

"Not today, maybe," she whispered. "But in the future, possibly," she encouraged, feeling his breath fan out shakily against her hand.

"Oh Gianna!"

The sound of Patrick's voice echoing from within the stadium concourse caused her to whip her head around, her fingers falling from Art's chin.

"Can't have spice without sugar!" he yelled.

She smiled, "Coming!" Gianna yelled back, before facing forward again. "I gotta go, see you around?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Art's eyes darted to her lips, but just as quickly as he did, his eyes found hers. The action didn't go unnoticed by Gianna.

"Yeah,” Art answered, a dazed, blissful smile on his face.

Beaming one last time at him, she spun on her heel and jogged back to the entrance of the concourse where Patrick was already waiting for her, leaning against the wall.

"For the record, I want you to know that was the corniest joke I've ever heard, Zweig," Gianna informed, stopping in front of him as he effortlessly pushed himself off the wall.

"It made you laugh though, didn't it?" Patrick countered easily, taking a hold of her hand as if it was second nature to him.

Gianna could only laugh, letting herself be led away from the bleachers.

~~~x~~~

The Juniors US Open was officially over and Gianna could confidently say playing there was the greatest moments of her life. She glanced back at the Arthur Ashe Stadium that she had passed by only a few minutes prior.

"One day, I’ll be playing in there and the world will know my name," she thought.

Gianna had barely taken two steps from where she stopped when two sets of footsteps fast approaching behind her.

"Gianna!"

"Gianna!"

She stopped mid step, her lips curling into a smirk knowing who was behind her. Spinning around, she was greeted with a slightly winded Art and Patrick.

"Hi boys," Gianna greeted warmly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"So, Patrick and I got to thinking about—" Art began.

"It's your last day in New York," Patrick interrupted, but Art didn’t seem to mind as he nodded his head along to Patrick. "What are you going to do?" he asked curiously.

"You know you could've texted me this?" Gianna pointed out.

"I prefer taking advantage of seeing and speaking to you face to face," Patrick reasoned, which brought a bashful smile to her face.

"I haven't decided yet," Gianna said, finally answering his question.

"You and Tashi don't have plans together already?" Art questioned.

"No, she's spending time with her family before they all go out to dinner," she explained. "So, it'll just be little oh me, by myself today," she mentioned.

"By yourself? Where are your parents?" Patrick questioned.

"I convinced them to have a night on the town, just the two of them. They deserve it," she replied, with a shrug when idea popped into her mind. "You know, my hotel has a pool. You should come," Gianna invited, eyes dancing between them.

"Me?" both boys asked in unison, pointing to themselves.

"Both of you," she clarified with a giggle. "It's not a pack of beer, but I think we can still manage to have some fun" she said.

"What about potentially having to play of 21 questions with your dad because of the two, random white boys by your side?" Art recalled, smiling at her.

Gianna looked over her shoulders before turning back to face them, "I don't my see dad anywhere, do you?" she asked, watching a grin grow on Patrick's lips.

"No I don't,"

"That's what I thought," Gianna agreed. "My hotel at four o'clock, be there or be square," she warned teasingly.

"We didn’t pack swim trunks," Art remarked, the realization dawning on him.

"Oh," Gianna breathed. "Well, I guess another time then," she suggested, going to turn around but stopping once she heard the protests coming from their lips.

"What, wait—"

"I'm sure we can think of something,"

Laughing, she looked back at them, "So, I'll see you there?" Gianna questioned, and the boys nodded eagerly. "I'll text you the address, Patrick, and one more thing," she said.

"Yes," they answered simultaneously.

"My friends call me, Gia,"

~~~x~~~

The moment the doors to the elevator opened up to Gianna's floor, the three of them took off. Running down the hallway, laughing and giggling as they raced each other to her door. Gianna was sure the guests below her and the ones who shared the floor would not be pleased with their heavy footsteps bounding across the floor, but did she really care at the moment, no.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, reaching the door first.

"I let you win, actually," Patrick claimed, coming in just behind her.

She rolled her eyes, "Sure, whatever you say," Gianna said sarcastically, grabbing her key card. "Did you let me win too, Art?" she asked, sticking the card into the door.

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all, it is ladies first,"

"Oh fuck off," she laughed.

The door unlocked with a quiet click and she removed the card and pushed it open. Entering the room, the boys followed Gianna into the bright, airy space. Immediately, a shiver ran down her spine, her muscles tensing from the air conditioner blasting.

"God, it's freezing!" she hissed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Here," Patrick offered quickly, shaking off the stripped linen shirt he was wearing.

He held out his shirt for her to put on. Smiling graciously, turned around Gianna slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"Better?" Patrick murmured, his nose grazing against the shell of her ear.

"Much," she confirmed, smirking to herself.

"I can turn off the AC for you," Art volunteered, scrambling from the door to the other side of the room where the unit was.

"Boys are too fucking easy," Gianna thought.

"Oh, I don't know what I’d do without you two," she teased, unwrapping her towel from her waist. "I'll be right back guys," she informed, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Tossing the towel onto the edge of the tub, Gianna stared at her reflection. Her dark brown eyes almost twinkled in mischief as a sudden, bubbling snicker burst forth from her lips. Gianna clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, shaking her head in amusement at her current situation.

"Holy shit, I cannot believe this is working," she whispered.

Tashi had told her the two boys were egregiously horny, but seeing it in person made it ten times funnier. She had been teasing the moment they got to the pool.

"You think you can help put sunscreen on my back?" Gianna asked, holding out the lotion over her shoulder without looking.

Behind her, she heard loud shuffling before feeling the lounge chair she sat in dip on each side of her.

"You two don't have to fight over the honor," Gianna said, giggling at their antics. "As they say, teamwork makes the dream work," she quoted, before feeling the bottle be pulled from her grasp.

"Y-yeah, sure Gia!" Art said quickly, stumbling over his words.

Sitting up straight, Gianna heard the sunscreen cap crack open and expected to feel the coolness of the cream against her skin soon after. Instead, nothing.

"They're fucking ogling at just the mere sight of my back," she thought.

A devilish grin grew on her face.

"Boys, I'm waiting," Gianna sang playfully.

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry,"

They both nervously laughed a little. To her right, Art slowly placed his hand against Gianna's shoulder, running his palm up and down against her skin to spread the sunscreen. Patrick's fingers slid down her left shoulder blade, alternating between quick movements to spread out the lotion or rubbing deeply along her spine to massage her muscles.

"Ah, thank you boys, you’re doing so well," Gianna praised, as Art's and Patrick’' continued gliding over her back.

Grinning to herself, Gianna stared out across the pool area behind the square frames of her sunglasses. The excited screams of children playing in the water rung through the air, while a decent handful of parents and teenagers sat poolside. Unexpectedly, Gianna locked eyes with two girls across the pool, one blonde and one brunette. Pushing her glasses down slightly, she wordlessly arched a challenging brow at them, maintaining eye contact. Gianna smirked watching as their expressions morphed into a mixture of jealousy and disgust.

Gianna knew why they were staring at her, boys like Patrick and Art were not supposed to be fawning over a girl that looked like her.

The feeling of fingers along her waist and against the small of her back, snapped Gianna from her musings. They precariously close to her bottom and she gently swatted their hands away before they could reach it.

"You two were such wonderful helpers," Gianna complimented, sighing sweetly.

Slipping on a pair of thin shorts, Gianna exited from the bathroom and walked over to the suite living room where Patrick and Art were seated on the couch.

"You know, you could've turned the TV on. You two didn't have to sit in awkward silence," Gianna informed, now standing in front of the with a smile. They let out an embarrassed chuckle as Art's leg began to anxiously bounce up and down. Gianna cocked her head at the sight. "Why are you bouncing your leg, Art? What's got you so nervous?" she questioned curiously, still wearing a smile.

Art only giggled and shrugged his shoulders, "I-I don't know," he stuttered, gazing up at her.

"Well," she began, raising her foot up from the floor. "Stop," she demanded, placing her foot right above his knee. Art froze mid bounce and Gianna watched him visibly swallow. "You're making me nervous," she said, and Art vigorously nodded his head. Gianna shifted her stare to Patrick and he straightened up his posture. "Patrick," she called, batting her eyelashes.

"Yes," he responded, a goofy smile on his face.

"As you said earlier today, it's my last day in New York," Gianna said, smoothly lifting her foot from Art's leg and plopping down onto the couch in the empty space between them. "Wanna make out?" she asked boldly, with a playful and daring smile.

"Fuck, do I ever," Patrick answered quickly, a groan leaving him.

Leaning toward him, Gianna let her lips brush against the corner of Patrick's mouth and almost by instinct his hand came to rest on her hip. Breaths mingling in soft pants, Gianna stared up at him through her eyelashes and he surged forward, pressing his lips fully against hers. A soft, surprised moan escaped Gianna as his lips devoured her own, but she responded just as eagerly. Her tongue dueling with his in a sensual dance for dominance. Gianna's fingers threaded themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding Patrick in place as their kiss only deepened. His hand roamed up and down her leg, squeezing appreciatively at the flesh as he went.

His touches set her body aflame with heat, caused little noises to leave her mouth and she pulled away needing air, or else he was going to kiss her dizzy. Their lips barely parted and Gianna breathed out a laugh and Patrick joined her, his sounding almost giddy. She turned to Art who staring at her with the biggest puppy eyes, desperately wanting to be played with. Without hesitation, she guided his mouth onto hers and the noise that left Art was probably the filthiest sound she's ever heard. The deepest moan left him and it reverberated through her entire body.

Teasingly, Gianna bit down on Art's bottom lip pulling it towards her and another groan from Art. He brought his hand up to her neck, cradling her jaw as her tongue lapped at his. This time, there was not a battle for dominance, almost immediately Art allowed Gianna to take control as his other hand ran up and down her thigh. The sudden sensation of warm breath fanning the slope of Gianna's neck, followed by a pair of lips gently kissing down her neck made her moan hotly into Art's mouth.

Leaning back into Patrick, his hands reached around her back and cupped his hand around her breast and squeezed. Another high pitch moan was drawn from Gianna, which Art readily swallowed as their kiss turned greedier as. She trailed her down his chest, caressing his pecs and lightly trailing her fingers down his abs. Her hand found its way to the waistband of Art's shorts and slipped underneath.

Then, Art released the loudest, guttural moan known to man, his face falling into the crook of Gianna's neck.

"O-oh…fuck, Gia,"

Her hand had found his stiff member, and wrapped her fingers around it. Art inhaled sharply as she tightened her grip, placing desperate, feverish kisses to her neck just as she began to move up and down the length of him.

Not a second later, the shrill ringing of her phone playing a distinct ringtone made Gianna jerk away from Art causing pathetic whimpers to escape from him.

"Shit, that’s my mom calling," Gianna informed breathily, her eyes almost fluttering close due to Patrick's continued ministrations.

He kissed her neck lightly, switching between his tongue or his teeth to nip graze the sensitive area.

"So ignore her," Patrick suggested simply.

Art murmured his agreement, mouthing kisses along the length of her throat. Rolling her eyes, Gianna untangled herself from both of them, pushing Patrick's hands from her body and removing her own from Art's.

She hopped up from the couch, much to the displeasure of both Art and Patrick, verbally making it known by their groans of frustration.

"You two have two, have to go," she stated firmly, her finger moving back forth between them.

"Are they even back from dinner?" Patrick asked incredulously.

"No," Gianna answered, and Patrick threw his hands up in disbelief. "But my mom told me she would call to let me know when they were on their back, and I now know," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

"You're really making us go home?"

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here,"

"Gia, come on I-I cant go out like this," Art said, glancing down at the obvious boner poking through his shorts.

"You are today," she retorted, shrugging off Patrick's shirt. She tossed it to Art, hitting him square in the chest. "Here, wear this, tie it around your waist," she instructed, making Patrick snicker.

The next few minutes involved Art trying to will his boner away, but it was losing cause, much to Patrick's amusement before Gianna shuffled them out the door. Just as she was about to close her door, Patrick's hand stopped it.

"Hang on,"

"What Patrick?"

His answer came in the form of him swiftly ducking down to kiss her one last time. Gianna pulled away from the kiss first, placing a hand on his chest.

"Go!" she urged, with a laugh as she pushed him away.

Patrick retreated with a pout and walked away from her door with Art by his side, sending one last boyish grin over his shoulder. Closing the door, Gianna leaned back against the door with the biggest smile.

God, this really was the best Juniors US Open in more ways than one.

Part III: The First Crack

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

[ballpitwitch]

Keanu Reeves The House of Suntory presents The Nature and Spirit of Japan

[chilewithcarnage]

oh finally making that post on lore olympus and rachel smythe's supposed 'decline in art style' before I forget about it .

so in the original post, the blogger jokingly edited this tweet in reference to the original tweet on the right made by infamous ex-tumblr fan artist rcdarts. my problems with this post stems from in my opinion an unwarranted comparison and kind of 'grasping at straws' type of complaint to the way lore olympus' art looks. op of the post makes it seem like Smythe's art devolved; but if this is the type of critique you're trying to make it's got pretty weak legs to stand on. the above pictures are not good examples if you're trying to have a valid argument that lore olympus' proto art is better than how the comic ended up looking. you can argue that the character designs of the series are boring and safe considering they're based off of Greek gods as opposed to say the art in the supergiant Hades series. That's all well and good but to say that legitimately that first picture with gray Hades and orange Persephone is 'better' than the second feels disingenuous. From a technical standpoint, the art of the second image is better. The art in the first picture while decently drawn is much flatter and dull than the second. Second pic is definitely more visually interesting and has better usage of its colors/painting style. Though the palette is limited there's still visual depth and volume to it. Design wise I get a much better read of who these characters are and what they're like. Also second pic Hades and Persephone are much better proportioned than the first. Albeit it first pic looks like a wip, Hades' head looks huge in comparison to Persephone's (her torso also looks like it's kind of just floating over his, the limited composition and coloring doesn't make it feel like these two are actually touching/interacting with each other). I think a lot of the smoke lore olympus got (and still gets) is due to the main characters looking like a stereotypical 'booktok' romance couple; Hades being a tall sharp featured fit man in a suit and Persephone being a big bright eyed button nosed Disney princess esque young woman. But the first pic doesn't even divert from those tropes. It's pretty much the same visual dynamic except Hades gives less sugar daddy/mafia boss and more academic(?) shut in. And Persephone's is face is less rounded and her hairs shorter but that's about it in terms of design differences. I've never read lore olympus and don't plan to so I can't give any actual criticism to the series, but in this specific case where we're just judging art and visuals the claim of the older art being 'better' seems unfounded. I think what a lot of people that rag on how the series looks hate it because Smythe's style is very much a product of when she started getting popular. It's very much that early to mid 2010s tumblr fantasy style that a lot of women artists were doing (hence why I feel low-key why this and also Steven universe had/has so many haters is mainly due to misogyny, this is a very feminine art style). y'all need to understand that a person developing a more simplistic style is not equal to their skill devolving. The comparison to rcdarts to me is unjustified cause rcdarts actually did change for the worst. like how I just said simpler style =/= worst art, but rcd's work not only got simple but less visually interesting, less dynamic, utilized more static and dull posing/coloring, and over exaggeration to the point where characters were unrecognizable.

[asliceofzosan]

i'm thinking of sanji growing up with a pet cat at the baratie.

how sanji finds him hungry and cold and shivering on his doorstep. he's frighteningly thin, almost as if a single gust of wind could turn his bones to dust. a chill runs through sanji's spine as he picks up the little green and black kitten — something like a distant memory — of rationing out tiny portions and drying water skeins and the rumble rumble rumble of his stomach as it begs him for more food to eat. just one more crumb. maybe it would sate his hunger.

so he takes the little kitten in, nurses him back to health, and endures the scolding from zeff for bringing the little stray in. sanji gets his reparation by pretending not to see zeff bottle feed the kitten when he was too weak to stand. he doesn't try to hide his knowing smile when he and patty find zeff passed out in his office chair, the little kitten curled up on his lap as it took shallow breaths in his sleep.

sanji took to calling the kitten marimo. he never saw a green kitten before, and certainly one not as fluffy as him once he was regaining his strength. marimo was playful and mighty mischievous. just like every other cat, his life's mission was to rile sanji up with each vase knocked over and each cat tree he refuses to use in favor of the box it came in.

but sanji adored his little marimo.

he always made sure he was well fed and quenched. not a single day went by where marimo didn't have a bite to eat. it haunts his dreams still. when baby marimo was shaking so much in his hands, sanji was afraid he might break him if he moved too fast. now he was a fierce cat, always lazily wrapping himself around sanji's legs when he's waiting tables or doing prep work in the kitchen.

marimo pretends he's not protective. but he's bared his fangs at more people than sanji could count. carne's got the scars on his arms to prove it too. sometimes sanji would catch the little rascal with a small paring knife in his mouth to chase one of the poor line cooks with.

despite his chilly attitude towards him when others are around, at night marimo would already be curled up on sanji's pillow, purring and purring until his owner was sound asleep. sometimes sanji would pull marimo onto his lap and brush him while humming a sea shanty zeff taught him long ago. he cherishes these quiet moments with the once hungry little kitten.

he doesn't want to admit it out loud — and maybe he never will — but marimo gave him another reason for living everyday.

so when sanji found a naked green-haired man where marimo is supposed to be on his bed, it should be understandable that he kicked the guy straight into the wall, right?

"who?!?" sanji couldn't even finish his question, he was hysterical that a naked man was in his bedroom! he long dreamed for a beautiful woman on his bed ever since he hit puberty. this is not how he wanted this to go. not at all. the strange man thankfully got tangled in sanji's bedsheets (note to self: must wash and/or burn those sheets now) when sanji landed a mouton shot to his chest.

but most importantly...

where the fuck was his cat?!?

"i should have dressed first, huh?" the man says through a pained groan. sanji somehow found himself feeling sorry for him, but only for a split second, because he was back to glaring at the stranger as menacingly as he could. sanji watched him warily, trying his best not to stare at his bare chest.

"who are you and what have you done to my cat?"

the man decided then to open his eyes and sanji let out a small gasp.

gray eyes.

his marimo had gray eyes exactly that shade.

"you know, don't you?" the man says, not looking the least bit afraid even after sanji literally kicked him in the chest. sanji backed away when he stood up, the blanket still wrapped loosely around his frame. "you know who i am, cook."

"no i don't!" but even sanji could admit that his tone wavered with each step the man took towards him. "if this is some fucking prank, i'll kick your ass again!"

"careful, curly." the man smirks, baring razor sharp fangs. "cats like to scratch."

and within the blink of an eye, the man was gone. an indignant meow sounded from the pile of blankets at sanji's feet. without really thinking, sanji knelt down and lifted the blanket up. marimo laid there, limbs paws tucked up against his body, and licking one of his paws nonchalantly.

"please tell me i'm dreaming," sanji murmured, running a single hand through his hair. marimo just tilted his head at him, slinking out of the blanket fortress and onto sanji's lap. sanji looked down and saw marimo staring straight up at him, those same gray eyes he saw on the stranger boring holes into his soul. sanji couldn't bring himself to look away.

because something tells him that he might get a visit from the green haired man again very soon.

or maybe he never left.

[ep2nd]

Anonymous reminder to talk about you pj mcyt au! (I was told to name a smp in the tags so… fable? Do you have fable smp? I ask, knowing the answer is probably no) anyways! Have a good day, I love reading headcannons

LE GASP THANKSSSSSS

Sadly, I did not put Fable in here, have herad of it, and maybe I'll dig into it and add it later

BUT NOW LETS TALK

Athena and Ares Kids

False- Favored daughter of Athena. Best War strategist, greatest Archer of her siblings. Her father died when she was young, leaving her defenseless. Single-handedly got to camp at the age of 6. Oldest member of camp. Joined the Hunt at 16.

Etho- Always planning something. Typical gray eyes, used to have black hair. Went on a quest and came back with a scar, white hair, and very broody. Disappeared after a few years- unknown.

Gem- Gets along great with the Demeter cabin. Came to camp with Sausage, Fwhip, and Zed and now they are all honorary found family. Great swordswoman. Joined the Hunt at 14.

Impulse- Smart. Great tinkerer and craftsmen. His Dad was an inventor, and alive. Can craft almost anything, honorary brother of Hephaestus cabin and Skizz. Tango and he get into lots of fire trouble. Not the best at being strategy smart, or good at fighting, but great with people.

Pearl- Greatest daughter of Ares. Blood-thirsty. Has several mood swings. Great with plants, love playing pranks, and loves fighting the best. Knows how to weild several weapons. Once fought her own father and won. Came to camp when she was 8. Don't talk about her dad.

Puffy- Great strategist, fighter, and people person. Loves kids. Will fight anyone for the kids. Veteran Camper. Came back to help.

Reddoons- showed up at camp, found out he was a son of Ares, then disappeared. May or May not be working with the enemy.

Tapl- great Archer, and that's kinda it. Knows how to get out a situation. Very bored. Wished his dad was Apollo.

Techno- Greatest son of Ares. One of the few people who can beat Pearl, Liz, False, and Dream. Wished he was a son Athena. Doesn't like his dad. Tries to not be bloody thirsty like his dad, but in the heat of battle- well. Was brought to camp by Phil. In college. Mom died at War.

Xisuma- Veteran camper. Basically the adult supervision. Has the best plans. Took False in and helped her, along with several others, dubbing themselves as Hermits. Has a stygian sword, gift from Hades and Joe after helping them in the Underworld- yes he's been to the underworld, he's been to several places. Waves the fans off- but let's be real this guy was SICK back in his day.

Bek- strongest Ares kid. Both physically and will. Doesn't use weapons- only fists.

Welsknight- Doesn't like his dad, but understands the honor and need of War. Man came from a line of knights, holds up chivalry. Veteran person. Visits sometimes. Best friends with X, went on several adventures with him, like that time he held up the sky or killed a hydra or fought a Titan- ya know stuff.

Quig- Uses sword and only sword. Quick, in everything. Doesn't like to talk much. Great friends with Pete. In college. Dad died in shooter stampede. Hates guns.

Pete- Veteran camper. Earned a chariot in battle. Has pet birds. Great Archer and sword fighter. Green eyes that can peirce the soul or make you eat your vegetables.

Pigical- Also doesn't like his dad- surprising I know. Uses fast and nimble combat. Tries to be a pacisft. Weak. Very kind though. His mom banished him.

Boffy- most cruel son of Ares. Uses a scythe. Great fighter, but also very dangerous. Rumors said he tortured his victims, enjoying death. Disappeared. No one knows where, hopefully not to the enemy.

Muka- carries a gun. Son of Ares with modern weapons. Has a pet mechanical wolf. Disappeared, but more of a loner. Found the other camp, kinda just chills. Great mom visits regularly.

[lizaluvsthis]

The Girl in Fatal Lavanders

Fanfic Written and Illustrated by @lizaluvsthis

Idea of creation by @itsajjanea

First (Prologue)

Author's note: I'd like to thank @itsajjanea for drawing three that describes out the song Heathers by Conan Gray (I loved that song before and still do) the song gave so many feels <3

For now- onto the fanfic!

Summary: SMG4 has found someone new, much to Three's dismay. He couldn't help it but feel like something is wrong with his new "Girlfriend" and that there is something more going on with her than just being all 'kind' and 'polite' to people, especially with SMG4.

will SMG4 still end up being inlove with the Lavender Girl? or does he end up with Three's open heart

Tags: Enemies to Friends, Sun and Moon, angst, betrayal, catching feelings, comfort, hurt/comfort, drama, enemies to lovers, enemy, fluff, oblivious, slowburn, fruityass, gayness

Relationships:

SMG4/SMG3

Mario & Meggy Spletzer

Meggy & SMG3

SMG4 & Original Character

PuzzleVision(TvAdware) & Original Character

SMG3 & Mario

SMG4 & Mario

Beginning Chapter - 1 New Person, 1 New Goal

An announcement breaks out from the castle of SMG4's as he calls everyone. "The hell did you bring us here for?" Bob angrily asked, ruining his dating plans with another chick.

"Whatever it is, I don't care." Three calmly said sitting peacefully on the couch waiting for SMG4 to say something. "Prepare yourself to be blinded by this but..." 

"But first- promise you guys won't laugh..." SMG4 held back in reassurance from his crew's support. Boopkins being the bright one of the team, spoke. 

"Awe don't worry SMG4! We won't laugh or judge you!" SMG4 gave Boopkins a weak smile and proceeded, taking a deep breath. 

"I know it has been a few weeks now since I've gone out for a few or most days, I never bothered to check the castle much because I went away. Now that I'm back again... I wanted to surprise you all with something..."

"Ohhhhh is it spaghetti-os?" Mario cheered in excitement, but with a disapproving look on four's expression, he wasn't talking about that. "No, but it's something else... I uh- I've met someone new" 

Four gave a nervous chuckle at the end. The whole crew felt silent as they all began to laugh. SMG4 felt embarrassed and humiliated himself, grunting and blushing down. Mario spoke up.

"Are you sure you're not high or anything S-M-G-4 ? Or haven't you gotten enough B-tches from the past few years you've attempted dating a girl? Oh no wait- you don't have any!" This caused the whole crew to laugh even more, except for Boopkins and Meggy.

"C'mon, guys! At Least Four is trying his best here- say- SMG4, we haven't met this person yet- what's their name?" SMG4 looked at Meggy bringing his smile up again.

"This is a surprise everyone- but... here she is!" A door opens from the entrance, with a first footstep from the opening. Is seen with purple scandals following on with a pair of white socks exceeding up to the leg reach.

Slow opening, the person dressed in dark magenta overalls. With the length of the pants put a match near the sock's leg reach. With cute navy blue buttons, and lilac color of cloth from their shirt.

Up to the face with a smile, oddly enough with a non-patterned color of red as the hat's signature. Almost near to Mario's similar color but gave off soft and dark.

The symbol from the top spots out a "#" Then the hair gave out a brunette color, and the excess ends to the shoulder length gave out curls. 

Oddly enough, Lavender colored eyes are rare to have. And a mole near the corner of the left cheek.

She gently closed the door, seeing from her second hand, it was a phone with the color of cyan. "Hello there everyone! Wow! I'm super excited to meet you all!" Everyone went silent.

"Guys, meet my new girlfriend..." SMG4 let out his hand extending to the brunette. She gladly accepted the handhold, getting pulled slowly by SMG4s. She looked at everyone who still smiled, side-hugging SMG4 with his hand touching her back.

"Haha- very funny SMG4-" SMG3 crossed both of his arms, there is no way SMG4 could pull out someone with the likes of HER... (plus- she looks kinda mid...) SMG3 thought to himself squinting his eyes at Four's new 'Girlfriend's' face.

"Are you brain damaged?" Three pulled out his sarcasm to see how his 'girlfriend' would react to that and how she'd deal with it. Unfortunately for three, however, She was pretty aggressive for action so he brought back what he said.

"Aren't you emotionally unstable?" The crew went on with the hums of "oohs" as Four quieted them down pushing three out of the way. "Hey- slow down- we don't want to settle up fights here, right "Three"?" 

SMG4 tilts his head, side-eyeing at Three. He just wished that the man wouldn't do anything stupid. "Right." Angered by the purple and black. 

"Anyways- six, you have the microphone" SMG4 lets go of her to make the brunette feel welcomed and comfortable. "Hello everyone! My name is T-A-G-6, I'm just a lovely and polite girl who loves to play video games and helps out with editing videos! I do find memes funny too besides with this cutie" 

Six looked at Four with a smirk and winked at him, four giggled like a blushing boy from high school. This made Three's brows change out with a more angered expression giving her the looks.

"My name stands for 'Totally-Average-Girl' then there's six! You can call me Tag or Six if you prefer it that-" SMG3 decides to break in again, approaching her confidently smiling. 

For three who wanted to show her who's boss at being close with SMG4.

 "how about bombers? You sound like a horse and you play like a hooker tiny wrink-" 

TAG6 took a step back summoning a big solid grey hammer, whaming Three's chin then up to the roof where he gets thrown out to the space leaving him screaming.

"So- any questions?" Her left eye twitched from Three's sudden call from her. (Why he... better get a taste of his own medicine! ) Six pouted her mouth just putting a thought about Three's immediate reaction.

"Ooh! Ooh! How did you two meet?" Tari asked intrigued with TAG6's special skill and appearance. "Funny to answer that but- we met online" SMG4 walked in looking back at Tag's lavender eyes.

Four and Tag explained to the crew how they met while on a public server from multimedia works. Four noticed Tag has the same interest as him, and a few more days of him taking her on dates.

The two finally made it official. "Wait wait! Did you both kiss?" Saiko looked at the two with an amused look when Four and Tag struck eye contact and then back to her. "Umm- no we- haven't yet... we're taking this whole thing- slow..."

TAG6 made a sheepish grin and with Four scratching his back, "We uh- we're not there yet..." SMG4 looked down sadly but forced a smile just for TAG6 to not worry her.

"But- that's okay! We can- do that if... we're both ready..." simply patting Four's back gaining comfort from her.

The crew showered her with questions and conversations, as Meggy left in hopes of finding where SMG3 had gone right after TAG6 blew him off the roof.

"SMG3? Are you here?" She said following three foot tracks from the mud. "SMG3!" Meggy shouted his name to be left with faint sobs near the bush.

Meggy quietly sneaks in, to see SMG3 crying silently hugging both of his knees. "What am I gonna do now? Four has a girlfriend and he didn't even tell me... I don't even know WHY this bothers me so much-" 

Meggy felt bad at Three, he didn't deserve any of this. She began to back away but snapped a twig from under, getting Three's attention as he looked at the sound.

"Squid. What are you doing here...? Came to make fun of me?" SMG3 wiped out his tears after seeing Meggy, getting up properly from the ground.

"I didn't mean to barge in like that, I saw you crying and... well- sorry..." Meggy held her left elbow in a single shell of comfort.

Three sighed, but seeing him not pushing or telling the orange squid to go away. She continued. "He means so much to you if that's what I would've guessed" 

Meggy stood next to him, looking down at the ground. "Ever since before and after three, I know. I saw how you acted... you know, you can't keep your feelings in there for too long" 

“I can’t say that I’d let it all out only idiots do that.” 

Meggy turns around. “It’s your choice, only you decide what you pick. Please remember SMG3… it’s not healthy to cover up wounds without someone doing so.” 

“But at all costs, you’ll be okay three” Meggy placed her hand to his shoulder. “I can’t promise that sh-t.” SMG3 shrugs off Meggy’s hand leaving her out of the way.

—-

In the castle, SMG4 enjoys getting compliments on how he just got a girlfriend along with them congratulating him. For Mario however, he doesn’t see anything changing from the man.

“Boy, you sure know how to charm a woman SMG4” Mario gave out a laugh to which SMG4 gave along. “Guess I bring out my luck to 'em” he finger guns at TAG6 with a wink.

TAG6 played along to her role, acting in love, acting happy, acting fine, acting okay. Everything was fake behind the mask, she felt anger, disgust, hatred, and pity with his crew and SMG4 to himself.

(How cheesy could this guy get along with his members? It’s so boring…) The goop who controls its own human body, rolled its eyes for who knows how many?

But no matter… I still have the Meme Guardian in our grasp, there is no way of escape for the man and the plan itself…

TAG6 made a sly face behind his shoulder. This plan is just getting started…

“Hey! U-uh- Meggy Spletzer… was it?” She caught the orange squid’s attention by surprise. “Yep, that's my name! You know me from somewhere?” Tag gets too excited and squirms, hugging Meggy tightly in results crushing her ribs.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD- OH MY GOD!!! I’M SUCH A BIG FAN! I SAW YOU ON TV, YOU WON ON SPLATOON FEST!” Tag shook her from side to side, nuzzling under her neck. “Sorry- heh…Again- I’m such a big fan!” Disgusting. 

Meggy swoons her head from left to right, trying to recover her strength after Tag lets her go. “How long have you been a fan? Now that's a shock, but- well- it’s an honor to be known as your splat star!” 

(Everything is going smoothly as it is… remember the plan… get close to his friends and never let them know about his disappearance.)

With a quick glance on the brunette’s, it is now Mario’s turn again to speak with his closest friend. “Don't you feel a bit happier now that you got a girlfriend SMG4?” Mario asked, in such a simple question. 

This made SMG4 rethink about his whole life, yeah he is happy that he got a girlfriend. But why does he feel like something else is missing? Why did it feel so wrong? Where does he even get this? It couldn’t possibly be SMG3.

The SMG3 he knew wouldn’t be having these kinds of feelings to him… right…? He's never been the intimate guy that he knew who would be pulling these stuffs... or would he...? Nah- three doesn't have these stuff its just SMG4 being an overthinker...

But really tho... he doesnt have these feelings to him right...?

…

Right…?

“Pshh- You’re talking nonsense Mario- TAG6 is a perfect girl and a perfect person to me! Why would I be less happy about this?” SMG4 re-arranged his hat and pulled his collar.

It felt that something inside of him cracked, from this hurting and deep tingling he’s touched. He couldn’t get a hint.

Mario points up his hand, speaking of his joy rate. The more the red italian spent the time with SMG4, the more he knew every move and every breath of his best friend.

There is a high difference on how he acts around them, yet this one is giving him a vibe that- he couldn’t understand.

Something is telling him that this person does NOT have a soul… nor this person is even living...

——

Next Chapter - One is off, theres two but one

[PENDING...]

[authorscurse]

LOVE LEAVES SCARS: INTRODUCTION

Synopsis: In which! Due to a letter calling her to go back to Texas Verity Rosewood goes back to the place she spent years trying to forget. While she is there, she tries to reconnect with the people she left. Her family, friends, and especially the person she loved most.

[L.L.S Masterlist] [M. Masterlist] [G.H Masterlist]

Case file #1:

[Name]: Verity Rosewood

[Nickname(s)]: Veri

[Age]: 20

[Date of birth]: August 22, 2000

[Gender]: Female

[Sexuality]: Bisexual

[Eye color]: Brown eyes

[Hair color]: auburn

[Height]: 5'6

[Playlist]: Top of my school 【Katherine Lynn-Rose】 Pov 【Ariana Grande】 You're on your own kid 【Taylor Swift】 Brutal 【Olivia Rodrigo】 Little Miss Perfect 【Write out loud】Lose you to love me 【Selena Gomez】 All I want 【Olivia Rodrigo】 Dollhouse 【Melanie Martinez】 Be myself 【Why don't we】 I wanna be yours 【Arctic Monkeys】 Consequences【Camila Cabello】 Mess it up 【Gracie Abrams】 Control 【Halsey】 Elastic Heart【Sia】Applause 【Lady Gaga】 Thumbs 【Sabrina Carpenter】 In my mind 【Lyn Lapid】 Happier than Ever 【Billie Eilish】 Not strong enough【Boy genius】 If Only 【Dove Cameron】

Case File #2

[Name]: Grayson Hawthorne

[Nickname(s)]: Gray

[Age]: 19

[Date of birth]: August 23, 2001

[Gender]: Male

[Sexuality]: heterosexual

[Eye color]: pale gray

[Hair color]: blonde

[Height]: 6'0

[Playlist]: Looking at me【sabrina carpenter】Can I be him【James Arthur】Labyrinth 【Taylor Swift】Daddy Issues【The neighborhood】Ador You【Harry Styles】If I killed someone for you【Alec Benjamin】Man of the House【Marilyn Hucek】Money, Power, Glory【Lana Del Ray】I bet in losing dogs【Mitski】Angels like you【Miley Cyrus】Surface pressure【Jessica Darrow】People Watching【Conan Gray】I ain't perfect【IV of spades】Mistakes like this【Prelow】Mirror ball【Taylor Swift】Favorite crime【Olivia rodrigo】Feelin good【Michael Bublé] Lay all your love on me【ABBA】All of the girls you've loved before【Taylor Swift】Set fire to the rain【Adele】

Verity Rosewood

—The one who absquatulated

"I never wanted to leave, but I had to. For me."

Being the heir of the Rosewood family, Verity has been training and learning how to manage her family's company even at such a young age. She went to different kinds of classes, may it be public speaking classes, business management, dance classes, and many more. She had to be different, to be perfect. The pressure of being the best and perfect heir was exhausting, but she had her friends, right? The Hawthorne brothers have helped her cope with all the pressure and stress her family and everyone else pressed on her. She thought she could handle it, but everyone had their breaking points.

Grayson Hawthorne

—The Heir Apparent

"And that made me hate you even more."

Grayson had been considered as the "Heir apparent" of the family for as long as he remembered. As a Hawthorne, he was taught many things, and that included never showing emotion. He had to learn how to not cry or show signs of weakness. Being one of the oldest siblings didn't help with that at all. In fact, it just added even more pressure on him. Having to be the older and more responsible brother out of the rest. It was difficult. Trying to make yourself look as if you're not broken. He is broken and hurt, yet he makes sure not to show anyone even a second of his true emotions. He was not raised to be like that.

Verity + Grayson

—The never ending story

"In this toxic and suffocating world, we had each other."

The friendship of the Rosewood and the Hawthorne family has lasted for years now. So Verity being friends with the Hawthorne grandchildren was no such mystery. The group was always seen together during classes, tea time, playing outside on the grounds, or even skipping classes together. They were inseparable, but there were 2 children in the friend group that were much closer with each other than the rest; Verity and Grayson. The two consider each other as their safe places, the person who brings comfort to each other. Due to the pressure of their families, both of them really understood each other and considered one another as the place that they could bring down their walls and become their true selves. They felt safe, comforted, and peaceful in the presence of each other. Because for once, they felt as if they had one place they didn't have to pretend as if they're perfect.

[Playlist]: Back to December【Taylor Swift】Play date【Melanie Martinez】Tattoos forever【lauv】Love song【Why don't we】Make you mine【Public】Somebody to you【The Vamps】You and I 【One direction】That way【Tate McRae】Runaway【Aurora】If the world was ending【JP Saxe, Julia Michaels】Your name hurts【Hailee Steinfeld】Why's you only call me when you're high【Arctic Monkeys】Talk too much【Coin】Overdrive【Conan Gray】The one that got away【Katy Perry】House of memories【Panic! At the disco】Back to you【Selena Gomez】Midnight Memories【One direction】Still the one【One direction】Lover【Taylor Swift】The way I love you【Taylor Swift】Favorite crime【Olivia Rodrigo】I love you so【The walters】WYD now 【Sadie Jean】Somewhere only we know【Keane】Afterglow【Taylor Swift】Kiss it better【Rihanna】Kidult【Seventeen】No one can fix me【Frawley】Fall for you【Sarah Kang, Jesse Berrera】Remember that night【Sara Kays】