#like I don’t care if this man graduated at number 5 in his class at Harvard law

[katierosefun]

obsessed with harvey in season 7 because you think that man can’t be any more disastrous but then he’s dating his therapist and inventing a new job for his boyfriend (cough) former employee who he hired illegally the first time around and he’s stressed and having a bad time and also his abandonment issues are still kicking and screaming in the background

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[justkending]

The Number One Rule.  Chapter 5.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3400+

A/N: A short little backstory for you all. 

Chapter Five:

Steve understood that his sister was done for the day. Socializing while running on little energy and being on a whole other schedule could easily drain a person. 

However, when he asked about Brock, Bucky decided to not worry him more than he needed to. He already had been anxious about the party and the women in his life being overwhelmed, he didn’t need to add another thing to his plate. That plus, Steve wouldn't hold back if Bucky did what Y/N had done for him. He would have continued on his path of murdering the disgusting excuse of a man.

Bucky still went to check on her before he and Steve left after cleaning up. He knocked on the door a few times gently and softly spoke her name, but never got a response. She was probably asleep, he had told himself. 

He still took the extra measure and texted Beck to check in with her. He updated her about the unwanted guest, and considering she knew more about that situation than him, she would be the one to comfort Y/N.

_________________

6 years ago.

Y/N was in the middle of sophomore year in high school, and Bucky and Steve were both halfway through their senior year.

She had been in the student council planning room going through pictures and putting them together in groups for the slideshow they would have at the end of their senior year. 

One of her friends, Dot, who happened to be Bucky’s longtime girlfriend, was helping her out. She was a senior and held the same position for her class. 

“Oh, God. Is that Scott Lang? Did he actually paint his whole body red for the football game?” Dot chuckled pointing. 

“Don’t ask me why because I don’t understand that kid at all,” Y/N laughed. 

They heard the door open and looked up not expecting anyone. In strutted Brock Rumlow. Co-captain of the football team and the school’s well-known player.

Dot didn’t care for the man after hearing stuff from Bucky. 

See, Steve and Bucky were on the baseball team, and not that the football and baseball team hated each other, it was more so all the athletics group knew the dirt on all the other sports in the school. So they knew Brock was nothing but trash and treated girls as if they were just tally marks to scratch off. 

They had tried to warn the younger Roger about it but she rolled her eyes and played the stubborn, “I’ll decide what's good for me,” card. That didn’t stop them from interfering anytime they saw the two together. 

“What are you doing in here Brock?” Dot said with a tone that showed disinterest. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Bathroom break,” he winked, holding up the pass in his hand. 

Another thing about Brock. He was the charming bad boy that was a smooth talker with all the girls. No matter his reputation with most of the guys in the school, he was able to hypnotize the young ladies into thinking he was a perfect gentleman, with a hint of rebellion. 

Ok, more than a hint... Which is what hooked them. And he happened to have his eyes on the same girl for the past year. Y/N Rogers. The one he couldn’t seem to get.

“It’s fine, Dotty. He can come in,” she smiled. 

She had to confess. Though she had yet to give in to his charm, she had taken a liking to all the flirting and attention the upperclassman was giving her. She was a sophomore with a senior chasing after her. Everyone in her grade or below her envied that kind of reputation.

“Y/N,” Dot started in a warning tone.

“I just wanted to drop in and say hi,” Brock said, coming up and cutting off the redhead. “How’s it going Y/N/N?”

“Uh, good. We’re just working on some things for the senior slideshow,” she blushed, looking down at her work before back to him.

“Ah, well you have some time before your own. It’s crazy to think mine will be next semester,” he said, flirting as he came closer. “Listen, I know I’ve asked a thousand times before, but what do you say to a movie date this Friday?”

“Well, um,” Y/N started.

“She can't. She'll be out of town,” Dot spoke up. 

Brock sent her older friend a glare for meddling in their affairs but turned back to Y/N hoping that his signature look which had always worked in the past, would work now.

“She’s not wrong. I’m going out of town to visit my grandparents,” she nodded. “But!” Dot shot her a look. She didn’t pay any mind to her though. She was too worried about the boy in front of her. “I can next Friday,” she smiled.

“Perfect,” Brock grinned. “It’s a date. I gotta head back to class, but I’ll call you and work out the details.”

“Ok, sounds good,” Y/N gushed while watching him walk out. Just before leaving the room, he winked making her chest flutter. 

“Y/N, your brother is going to kill you,” Dot sighed running a hand down her face. “Buck will be next in line.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Why did they have any control over her choices and how she spent her time?

“So? They’re not me. They don’t get a say,” she huffed annoyed, and went back to the task at hand. “Besides, they don’t know what this means. The fact an upperclassman is interested in me, a sophomore? It’s insane.”

“But why that upperclassman? I’m sure if you waited around a little more, you would catch a far more decent one. You’re a sweet girl, Y/N. That and beautiful, smart, and mature for your age. You don’t have to settle.”

“I’m not settling, ok? I like him and I want to get to know him. Is that so hard to understand,” she groaned. As the conversation went on, Dot could see her annoyance growing. “I get Steve and Bucky don’t like him, but they don’t like a lot of things I do. I shouldn’t have to go through them every time I make a decision in my high school career.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying they know more about him than you do. He’s a douche. He means more harm than good…”

“He’s been nothing but nice to me,” she said matter-of-factly. She turned back to the pictures reorganizing them and writing notes on them. 

“That’s the act almost all immature, playboy, and douchebag boys do to take advantage of the sweet young innocent girl. Come on, you have to know better than that,” Dot pleated. 

The bell rang making them both look up at the clock.

“Don’t you have history right now? You should go before you get tardy,” Y/N moved on. “Plus, I’m sure Bucky will be waiting for you in the hall soon.”

Dot let out a sigh realizing her stubborn ass wasn’t going to listen. 

“Don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” she sighed moving to the door. 

Before she could leave, Y/N stopped her. “Don’t tell Steve. Or Bucky.” Dot sent her a look. One filled with worry and hesitance. “Please. I’ll tell them when I’m ready. But it’s my right to tell them.”

Dot paused but eventually nodded. “Ok.”

And boy did Y/N wish her hardheaded, younger self would have listened. 

This was just the start of the many mistakes she made trusting Rumlow.

______________

A week had passed since Y/N’s return home. Steve and Bucky hadn’t seen her since the party, having to go back to work, but Bucky did get an update from his sister the day after.

Becca: We Facetimed for a few hours. It just brought up some really shitty memories she didn’t care to run back into. She had a good vent session though and is feeling a lot better:)

Bucky: Thanks, sis. She seemed extremely upset and I didn’t want her to be alone. 

Becca: Of course. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll talk to you later, ok?

Bucky: Got it. Love you.

Becca: Love you too <3

Present day:

Breaking Bucky out of his daydream at his desk, Steve gave a single slap to his back.

“Wake up, Bud. You’re clocked in. Last I checked the government doesn’t pay us to daydream,” Steve spoke loudly, moving in to sit on the edge of his friend's desk.

After high school, the two were stationed across seas for a few years. After saving a whole battalion that was thought to have been captured and killed, they were given a medal and honored by the government for their brave act. That’s a whole long story in itself, but in the end, they were offered higher ranks in the military where they were. 

Steve however asked to come home considering his father’s passing. He didn’t want his mom to suffer through that without him. He went to college and graduated early from Quantico becoming a part of the FBI. 

Bucky stayed a few more years overseas, one of the reasons he wasn’t here when Y/N came home, but when he came back, they granted him a different spot at the same branch with Steve. Though they were specialized in different areas, they still worked side by side. 

That would also be how they met Sam. Steve met Sam at this job while Bucky was still overseas, and became close with him. Later introducing the two and all three moving in together. 

For now at least... It was temporary is what Steve said, but the months were starting to feel never-ending for Bucky.

“You know, with the amount of time we spend together, I don’t know how I can still handle you,” Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. 

“You’ve been practicing your whole life,” he laughed back. “But listen, Mom wants me to stop by and fix something with the sink. I guess the garbage disposal stopped working all of a sudden. Since we drove together today, I’m giving you the option for an out.”

“That being?”

“You can head home with Sam, or come with me to my mom’s house for a little before I head back home,” Steve offered. 

It wasn’t much of an argument though. 

He wanted to check in with Y/N since the party, even if it was discreetly, and he didn’t care to carpool with Sam who had been hopped up on caffeine today. That or cocaine. He couldn’t tell the difference.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Bucky nodded.

“Cool. Ok, I’m going to grab a few things from my desk and I’ll meet you at the front in five minutes. Sound good?”

Bucky shot him a thumbs up as he moved to grab his own things. 

_____________

They made their way to the Roger’s home and once pulled up, Bucky turned to Steve.

“Be honest. How long do you think this is going to be?” Bucky asked.

“Well, we have two ways this can go…” Steve unbuckled and sat back looking at the front door. “One, it’s a quick fix, I fix it or you, and we leave right after. Or two.”

“She makes us stay for dinner and this just so happened to be a perfect excuse to feed us,” Bucky finished off. 

“Bingo. You ok with either?” Steve asked. “You don’t have anywhere to be?” 

“Only at home going over these files with a beer in hand. So basically what I can do here,” Bucky shrugged, grabbing his bag. 

“Good, because I have a feeling we’re going to get option two,” Steve nodded, moving to open the door.

Bucky chuckled as they both got out and headed up the stairs. 

“Hey, Ma! I brought Bucky!” Steve shouted once he walked in. 

“In the kitchen, dear!”

They followed the voice, and with it, the smell of a home-cooked meal in the making.

“Hello sweethearts,” she smiled putting her spatula down and moving to press a kiss to both the men’s cheeks. “I went out to the shed and grabbed the tool kit. I don’t know what happened, but I went to turn it on and it started making weird sounds. Like I left a spoon down there or something, but I checked and didn’t see anything.”

“Got it,” Steve nodded, putting his belongings on the kitchen counter and moving to the sink. “If I can’t fix it, I’m sure Bucky can. He’s better at the mechanic stuff anyway.”

“Thank you two again. Are you both staying for dinner?” Sarah asked. The simper she had on her face as she looked down at the pasta she was cooking showed she had the trap before they even walked in. 

Bucky and Steve shared a look before chuckling. 

“Of course, Sarah. Can’t turn down a home-cooked meal,” Buck said sweetly, sitting down at the table and pulling out some case files. “It’s better than the takeout and cold leftovers we’ve had all week from working late.”

“Oh, you boys! You know you can come over here anytime for food. I’m more than happy to make something up,” she scolded.

“It’s fine, ma. We’re still eating,” Steve groaned laying on his back as he squatted under the sink. “Where’s Y/N? Is she home?” 

Bucky was thinking the same thing, but instead of asking, he had been making glances at the living room to see if she would pass by or randomly appear.

“Yeah, she had coffee with a friend earlier, but she just got back in,” Sarah explained as she chopped some sundried tomatoes. 

Not even two seconds later, Y/N walked in with a phone to her cheek and her eyes diverted to what looked like a planner in her hands. She had on a cropped tank top, some old sweats, and a sweater cardigan that was falling off her shoulder. A messy braid with her wild waves was laying on her shoulder to finish off the comfortable look.

Bucky honestly wasn’t used to this look. Back in high school, and most of her life, she had always tried to look presentable. She almost always had her hair done, some type of makeup on her face, and clothes never as laid back as this. Even on sleepover nights with Beck, she would have to match pj tops and bottoms in a crisp satin. 

This look? This look was nice. She looked like a whole other person but in a good way. A way that showed she was comfortable in her skin and was ok with a homey look. College made her a lot more laid back from what Bucky was picking up. 

She didn’t even notice the guys in the room as she walked to the fridge, writing something in her planner, and pulling out a jug of orange juice as she held the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

“No, no, that sounds perfect,” she said in a cheery tone. “Thursday, 8:30 in the morning sounds great… Ok… Of course… No, thank you, Jenny,” she turned, pouring a glass, putting her planner to the side, and grabbing her phone again with her hand. “Absolutely. I’ll see you then.” And with that, she smiled big and hung up the phone. 

Looking up, she wasn’t at all phased by the guest and went to drink the juice.

“Care to let us in on your little phone call there?” Sarah spoke up for the crew. “Sounded promising for whatever it was.”

“I got an interview,” Y/N said happily and with a little jump in her spot. She walked past Steve who had come out from under the cabinet when he heard her, and was now going back under. She gave him a tap on the knee and said a mumbled, “Hey, dude.”

“Interview for what?” Sarah continued. The sounds of excitement were in her tone as well.

“The museum downtown. They’re looking for a researcher on a new project that came up, and I had put in my resume back in London a few weeks before I headed back.” She walked over, hopped on top of the counter, and sat down to watch her mom cook while she swung her legs at the height. “They said with my background in travel around Italy and some of the studying I did there, they want me to help with their new exhibit they’re bringing in.”

“I thought you studied in London. Italy is kinda far, isn’t it?” Bucky spoke up for the first time. 

She looked over at him and that goofy grin of hers that was still radiating excitement, made his smile form. 

“My host family was in London, so yes I spent the majority of my time there. But my scholarship covered travel to study in and around Italy throughout those years. It’s a 2 to 3 hours flight depending on where we went,” she explained, jumping down and going to sit in the chair next to him. 

“What did you major in again?” he said, grabbing a file and acting to be interested in it even if all his attention was 100% on her.

“Well, Liberal Arts and humanities with an interest in History, and a second bachelor in mythology and art,” she answered propping her feet on his leg that he had poked out from under the table. 

He looked down at the motion. Something she would have done back in the day, and something that shouldn’t phase him, but it did anyway. His younger self would have knocked her feet down and rolled his eyes. But the simple physical touch felt more intimate than that. 

He cleared his throat, turning to focus more on the files again. “You did 2 degrees in 4 years?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. 

“Buck, don’t know if you remember, but the little sis was, and is, a prodigal genius,” Steve peeked out with a laugh.

“Oh, hard to forget when she throws a new fact in your face every two seconds.” He relaxed some, tapping her foot with a pen before writing nonsense on the papers. “Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve heard one since you’ve been home,” he said looking at her from the corner of his eye. 

She was watching and leaned back relaxing more into her seat. 

“Get this,” she started. Both Steve and Bucky gave each other a glance hearing the signature start to her rants that held those random facts. 

“Turkeys were once worshiped as Gods. In 300 B.C., the Mayans saw the big birds as vessels for the Gods. And because of that, they were domesticated to have roles in religious rituals.” 

“Where the hell do you get those from?” Steve asked dumbfounded. 

“Language,” Sarah hushed. 

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled going back to work.

“Seriously, it’s the weirdest stuff sometimes,” Bucky added. 

“Crazy little thing called books,” she stood ruffling Bucky’s hair. “Also, Buck, when did you decide to cut off that glorious mane of yours? I haven’t seen you without shoulder length hair since elementary school.” 

He went to fix the disheveled mess on his head and looked up at her as she refilled her drink. 

“Got in the way at work. Can’t catch bad guys when you’re constantly brushing hair out of your face,” he explained. 

“Well, it looks good. Not that the long hair didn’t suit you, but it looks professional. I like it,” she said nonchalantly while taking a drink. 

Before Bucky could even have a second to react to the compliment, she was moving back to the doorway. 

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you guys later!” she shouted.

Sarah stopped her before she could fully leave the room. 

“What? Where are you going? I’m about to have dinner ready in like 15 minutes,” she said, waving an arm.

“Meeting up with Beck for a girl's night. We planned it out the other day. I told you about it,” she explained hanging onto the wall of the threshold. 

“Oh, I forgot. Well, ok. I’ll have leftovers for you tomorrow then,” Sarah nodded.

“That is if we don’t eat it all,” Steve mumbled.  

Y/N ran back in kissing her on the cheek, and Steve stood up having finished the sink. She gave him a quick pat on the shoulder while yelling, “Love you guys! I’ll see you later,” and jogging out of the room.

“You know, she’s been home for a week, but I’ve barely seen her,” Sarah said, with a dramatic sigh.

“Not true! We’ve had movie night every night but one!” Y/N shouted from the stairwell. The sound of her feet thumped as she continued her trek up.

Bucky chuckled under his breath looking back at Sarah. 

“Ok, fine. I see her at night, but during the day she disappears,” she rolled her eyes going back to the stove. 

Bucky looked back to the doorway she ran through and shook his head. 

Damn his sister for stealing her for the night.

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[pallasperilous]

Boneless Wings

 {AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares. 

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now. 

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it. 

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1.  Bird mites. Holy shit. 

 2.  Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

 3.  Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube. 

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose. 

4.  The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is. 

 5.  When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

 6.  Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

 7.  After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a  “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning. 

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can. 

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit. 

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8.  No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.” 

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry. 

 9.  Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

 10.  Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

 11.  You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice. 

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex. 

12a.  One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV. 

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

 12b.  The less said about angel molt, the better. 

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit. 

 13.  There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings. 

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

 14.  Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas. 

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

 15.  Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

  16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement. 

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

 16.  So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon. 

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously). 

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off. 

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17.  For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration. 

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening. 

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack. 

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel. 

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy. 

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato. 

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually. 

 18.  There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything. 

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

 19.  Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership. 

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns. 

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

 20.  Seriously though, the bird mites. 

Gross.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 16

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 14.3k

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, domestic & child abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, descriptions of mental illness, death, dark themes and foul language. once again, all information regarding psychiatric conditions or courtroom procedures are to be taken with a grain of salt.

description: Han Jisung wrestles with the demons of his past as Kim Seungmin faces his own dilemma in the present, with one last chilling threat from Prosecutor Kang forcing Seungmin to make a final, crucial decision. The clock is counting down as your last chance wears thin, and one unexpected declaration is all it takes for things to change—forever.

watch the trailer here!

16| the prisoner’s dilemma.

Jisung was still frozen in place long after the heavy doors had swung shut and erased your face from his sight. His own hand felt foreign as he held it against his stinging cheek, the dull throbbing drowned out by the words still ringing in his ears.

Your friends want you to stay alive. Your mother wanted you to stay alive.

I need you to stay alive.

Bang Chan was watching him from the side, the detective’s eyes filled with equal parts amusement and wariness. Finally, he spoke. “You deserved that, you know.”

Jisung was silent, but his mind was already replaying the scene over and over again. Your anxious eyes, your voice trembling with the effort to stay steady. The slap couldn’t compare to the pain that had etched itself into your features every time he had spoken harshly, trying again and again to push you away. I know I did.

Chan sighed. “How are you feeling?”

A soft laugh escaped from Jisung’s dry mouth. “Dizzy,” he deadpanned honestly. The adrenaline was beginning to die down, but instead of leaving him sick in the stomach and with a pounding headache like usual, Jisung felt almost...lightheaded with relief. “Like...like a kid that just got told off?”

The detective chuckled, letting out his low, signature whistle. “What’d I tell you? That’s love, mate.” 

Jisung looked at him now, incredulous. “Getting slapped in the face?”

“No,” Chan smiled, but for once, his eyes were serious. “Someone who cares about you enough to call you out when you’re wrong.”

Not knowing what to say, Jisung turned away, letting the ticking of the clock on the wall fill the strained silence. He could still feel Chan’s gaze on him, but it was no longer the look of a detective trying to dissect a case file. Instead, it held the same strange softness it had when Chan had pulled Jisung aside at the Third Eye, and asked if he was okay.

“I told you once,” Chan began slowly, “that everyone deserves to be loved, and that you’re no different. Of course, things have...changed,” he continued, and Jisung looked down, throat tight as he waited for Chan to finish. “But I still stand by what I said.”

Before Jisung could reply, the intercom crackled overhead. “The court hearing  for Han Jisung and the Miroh Heights Murder Cases will be resuming in five minutes. All attorneys, jurors, and participants in the trial, please report to the courtroom immediately—”

“Detective, you should get going,” a security guard spoke lowly to Chan, who sighed and nodded, pulling himself to his feet. As he passed where Jisung was standing, he stopped briefly.

“You’re a good kid, Han Jisung. Even if you don’t believe it yourself...you had better start to.”

“Chan—”

The detective had reached the door when he looked over his shoulder at Jisung. He had the same old mischievous smile on his face again, but his eyes were sad. 

“I hope we can grab another coffee together some time, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━

Seungmin’s head was spinning as he pushed through rooms packed with spectators and reporters until he finally stumbled into an emptier hallway. His eyes gleaned the plaques on the doors, searching for the room number the court clerks had given him after Seungmin had overheard their frantic conversation.

“We can’t just end the case here — the media and people’ll riot.”

“But we’ve lost a witness and the lead prosecutor of the case in one day — how the hell is the trial supposed to continue?”

The clerk wringed his hands. “We need to find out if there were any other prosecutors working with Kang on the case — call them in ASAP—”

And so, here Seungmin was — heart threatening to leap out of his throat, charging headfirst into a case that had been ripped out of his hands months ago. He had stepped into their conversation impulsively, and now a thousand warning bells were going off in his mind. 

Kim Seungmin was not impulsive. Kim Seungmin always calculated his plans perfectly, meticulously. It was one of the reasons why he had always been at the top of his class, graduating a year early with honours. Always praised for being levelheaded and thorough. 

Still, he thought, there had been one person that had seen right through him.

“You’re stressed,” you blurted bluntly, and Seungmin’s coffee cup froze midway to his lips. You were in his office, one of the many meetings you two had arranged in order to keep each other updated with information regarding Jisung’s case. 

“We’re all stressed,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, unsure where you were going with this, but you shook your head.

“But you try the hardest out of all of us to hide it. Tell me if I’m crossing a line here, but—” you looked at him, tilting your head. “You seem like the type who’s calm and collected on the outside to...hide the fact that you’re still wrestling with nerves, and insecurities, on the inside. Like a defense mechanism.”

Seungmin fell silent. Instinctively, he felt the urge to laugh it off, but in a fleeting moment, his mind wandered to his coworkers— their condescending gazes at who they thought was just a lucky amateur, a young imposter infringing upon a field with people twice his age. Since his first day at the law firm, Seungmin had felt an unbearable desire to prove himself worthy in their eyes, and the anxious feeling ate away at him every time he touched a case. 

Sensing the sudden change in mood, you quickly stammered, “I-I’m sorry, that was so unnecessary—what I’m trying to say is— it’s okay to be nervous. Don’t psyche yourself out with your own expectations for yourself. U-um—”

You trailed off, mortified, but Seungmin let out a small laugh, shaking his head lightly when your eyes widened in confusion. “No, no, it’s just…” You were smart and capable — anyone could see that — but always seemed to second-guess your own abilities. He found it almost endearing. “You really are a psychology major, Miss l/n.”

Seungmin rounded a corner and nearly slammed into someone that had just walked out of the men’s washrooms. Before he could apologise, Seungmin looked up into the man’s face and his gut twisted unpleasantly.

Prosecutor Kang seized Seungmin by the collar before he could walk away, his face livid. The younger man’s eyes darted down either side of the empty hallway, then back at his former senior. He had heard Kang was to be kept at the courthouse until the end of the trial, in case they needed anything from him. There were guards flanking every entrance and exit, so Kang couldn’t exactly escape, but seeing him walk around unsupervised still made Seungmin uneasy.

“S-sir, you can’t—”

“Do you remember what you said? What you promised?” Kang seethed, eyes wild as they raked Seungmin up and down. “‘I can handle it. I’ll find the culprit, and I’ll convict him. Death penalty, no less.’” 

Hearing his own words coming out of Kang’s mouth made Seungmin wince and shrink back. Kang caught his discomfort, grinning savagely before jerking his head in the direction of the holding cells, where Jisung was. “You’re taking over the case, aren’t you? Your culprit’s right there. Everything’s been laid out for you, it couldn’t be simpler.”

Seungmin let out a shaky breath, fists clenched by his sides. Before he could open his mouth, Kang pulled him in closer, voice dangerously low. 

“I always thought it was fishy, you know — someone your age, already entering the field? So I did my research.” Kang paused, smirking. “You’re a little prodigy, aren’t you? I didn’t know your parents were renowned lawyers, too.”

At that, Seungmin froze, shocked eyes darting up to meet Kang’s. It was true — born into a family of influential law enforcement officials, Seungmin had practically grown up reading about legal matters and judicial affairs. Despite his efforts to keep his parentage discreet as he grew older — hating the way their reputations always preceded his own — the expectations to follow in their footsteps had always remained suffocating. He loved law with all his heart, but his own family had become yet another reason why Seungmin had so much to live up to, and even more to lose.

The older prosecutor chuckled — Seungmin must have looked like a deer in headlights. “You can’t disappoint them, yes? You need to do everything you can to uphold the big family name.” Kang’s voice had a dangerous edge to it, like a blade. “My career might be over, little prosecutor, but I have far more power than you think. I can make sure you never step foot into this profession ever again. You want to prove yourself? To me, to your fellow prosecutors, to your parents? Here’s your chance.”

There was a snakelike glint in Kang’s eyes when he finally let Seungmin go, his words seeping through Seungmin’s mind like poison. 

Prove yourself. Prove yourself. A security guard had appeared at the end of the hallway, and without another word, Kang calmly turned on his heel, letting the guard escort him away. Seungmin watched his silhouette grow fainter, feeling sick to his stomach. 

Just how many cases...no, how many prosecutors had Kang manipulated for his own benefit?

He took a shuddering breath. Time was running out. Forcing his feet to move, Seungmin finally found the room, barely listening when the clerk quickly explained that the rights to the case were being transferred to him last minute. 

“Ten minutes, Prosecutor Kim. You have approximately ten minutes to prepare your case.”

The roomful of law officials were watching him with doubtful eyes — the same doubtful, scornful gazes that had followed him his entire life. Ten minutes. Picking up where Kang had left off would be the smoothest, most reasonable route. Preparing an entirely different argument, however, was suicide.

Seungmin glanced up at the clock, and his heart sank.

━━━━━━━━

The commotion in the courtroom sounded like the buzzing of an agitated beehive, the constant thrumming of hushed conversations and your own erratic heartbeat fueling the tense atmosphere. 

Hyunjin, Felix, Woojin, and you had sprinted straight to the courtroom after a rapid search for Seungmin had turned up futile — the prosecutor was nowhere to be seen, but judging from the murmurs you overheard around you, the case had been transferred into his hands with mere minutes to spare. You bit your lip nervously. This should have been good news, but you all knew that the odds — and time — were still against you. Looking the weariest you’d ever seen him, Bang Chan collapsed into the seat next to you. He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but as he turned away, eyes glued to the scene about to unfold, you saw that his features were strained and pale. 

With a creak that send a hush rippling through the courtroom, the doors swung open to reveal more familiar faces — the judge, the prosecution, the jury. Your eyes instinctively flickered to Jisung, whose expression was as guarded as ever, and instantly felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The rest of the room, however, had fallen silent before the judge had even spoken. All their gazes were trained on the new prosecutor that had entered the room.

Seungmin felt the stares on him before he even looked up, dozens of eyes weighing down on him as if he were a butterfly pinned to a specimen table. He should have gotten used to the stares by now — this was far from his first court hearing — but when he looked out into the faces of the audience, he still felt the same squeamish anxiety he had always tried so desperately to ignore. Their expressions were dubious, condescending, unconvinced — as if all to say, is this a joke? This kid is the new lead prosecutor?

The judge cleared her throat, pushing her half-moon spectacles back onto her nose. “Thank you for your patience. The court hearing for Han Jisung and the Miroh Heights Murder Cases is now back in session. You may be seated.” She turned to Seungmin, eyes narrowed. “What is the case the prosecution will be presenting?”

Seungmin’s mind was racing as he turned over the envelope in his hands — the envelope containing Kang’s case file — and slid out the papers with numb fingertips. As he did so, familiar words echoed in his mind — words he had been told since he had first chosen to study law, and words he had forced himself to live by ever since.

“You have a big heart, Kim Seungmin — too big. Learn to control your emotions if you want to make it in this field.”

“You have to be cold, quick, and rational. Kindness is a weakness.”

“There is no room for a wavering heart in prosecution.”

He had always taken the words like bitter medicine, beyond determined to prove to his older coworkers that he wasn’t just the incompetent young prosecutor they always made him out to be. Desperate to prove to his family that he was capable, that he wouldn’t tarnish their names. Every step he had taken had been careful, calculated, all so that Seungmin could win their approval, finally escape their suffocating scrutiny. 

“Your Honour,” Seungmin began, “as a prosecutor, I was taught that my duty is to defend the rule of law to ensure justice is served, no matter how harsh it may be.”

You watched the young prosecutor speak carefully, his grave expression making your gut twist. Kim Seungmin, Chan had told you once in passing, came from a family of established lawyers — a child prodigy with big shoes to fill, and everything to lose. And now, you realised with dread, his words seemed to be an exact echo of Prosecutor Kang’s.

Seungmin’s stomach was fluttering as if it were his first trial again, heart palpitating with each passing moment as he was seized with the sudden urge to run. Taking a deep breath, his gaze flickered up to meet yours in the audience — your blazing eyes, charged with emotion, your heart always written so clearly across your adamant features. You, who stopped at nothing in order to protect what you believed was right.

Prove yourself. Prove to everyone you’re good enough, strong enough.

He closed his eyes, knowing that he would regret what he was about to say.

“But I was also taught that a good prosecutor is one that uses the law to protect the people.” Seungmin swallowed hard, sliding Kang’s papers back into the envelope and dropping it onto the desk behind him. “Thus, the case I am presenting today is not one that intends to prove Han Jisung guilty of first degree murder.”

The entire room erupted in frantic murmurs, the judge hurriedly banging the gavel to maintain order. Seungmin caught a glimpse of Jisung’s expression — the boy was still looking down, but his face had paled in surprise at the prosecutor’s sudden declaration. Just then, the doors burst open, a red-faced clerk with a handful of padded envelopes ducking in and hurrying to Seungmin’s side.

“What you requested, sir,” the clerk explained quietly, handing him the envelopes, and Seungmin recalled the conversation they had had in the conference rooms, just before the trial had recommenced. 

“There are ten minutes remaining until we have to begin,” the clerk informed Seungmin worriedly, seeing the young prosecutor’s tense face. “Is there anything you need from the former prosecution? Since these are special circumstances, I can have them brought to you as soon as possible during the trial.”

Either ten minutes to gather the evidence he needed, Seungmin thought dismally, or ten minutes to build a strong argument from what he—no, Kang—already had. 

“Listen carefully.” Screwing his eyes shut, Seungmin continued, “Please fetch me Han Jisung’s camcorder footage — the memory cards — and Yang Jeongin’s Walkman tapes from Prosecutor Kang’s archives. All of them, immediately.”

The knot of anxiety in Seungmin’s chest finally began to unclench, the envelopes’ contents anchoring him in place with a reassuring weight. He turned to the judge, surprised at the newfound authority in his own voice. “The prosecution maintains that Han Jisung is not guilty of first degree murder. We will be presenting all the evidence Prosecutor Kang excluded, and examining the case from all angles so that the jury may form an accurate judgement and verdict.”

“That’s—an entirely new argument,” Hyunjin whispered incredulously beside you. “How did he come up with a case in ten minutes?”

“He didn’t. He’s building his case on the spot,” Chan realised out loud, a small smile spreading on his lips. He leaned forward with a glint of pride in his eyes. “Now that’s the Kim Seungmin I know.”

You watched as Seungmin called up his first witness, who was none other than Kang’s psychiatric expert. “You introduced yourself as the psychiatrist involved with this case — responsible for analysing the defendant’s mental condition, correct?”

The red-nosed man coughed nervously. “Y-yes, uh, well — the defendant was unwilling to speak during the evaluation, so we were unable to gain much personal testimony—”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Seungmin picked up one the envelopes, handing it to the court clerk and motioning for him to project the contents. “The following is recovered footage from a camcorder the defendant was gifted when he was six years old, and developed a habit of carrying around.” He turned towards the psychiatrist. “It’s raw, untampered footage containing experiences from the defendant’s childhood. I want you to watch it and answer a few questions. There is, however, graphic content, and I advise the spectators to view it with caution.” 

You saw Seungmin cast a worried look towards Jisung, and you knew how the prosecutor was feeling. After nearly thirteen years of Jisung hiding his past from even his closest friends, it was all suddenly being thrust under the harsh light — in front of a roomful of people who wanted to sentence him to death, no less — but you both knew that this was your last chance.

The projector whirred as the clerk inserted the first memory cards into the computer. The memory cards had been confiscated by Kang before you had gotten the chance to watch them yourself — what you did know about the footage came from the bits Chan had recounted for you after several insistent phone calls, and what Jisung himself had told you that fateful night. Uneasiness stirring in your chest, you watched as the screen came to life, blurry colours and pixelated outlines taking shape. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary at first — short clips of chipped action figures on dusty windowsills, or toy cars rolling idly across wooden floors. The footage was shaky, as if the person holding the camcorder could barely support its weight. Jisung had barely been six years old, you remembered, feeling a strange feeling of sadness wash over you. It was as if you were watching a movie you already knew the ending to, and all that was left in your gut was a sinking dread at what was about to come.

As the clerk flipped through the footage, a faint sound pricked at your ears, and you jerked your head up, listening to make sure you had heard right — and sure enough, there it was. Muffled shouting, like it was coming from another room in the house, something heavy shattering on the floor — and judging from the murmurs and faces of the spectators around you, they heard it as well. The camcorder was still pointed at the action figurines, but had frozen stiffly — as if the child holding it was listening, too. 

More scenes began to unfold, one after another. A birthday, six lopsided candles glowing on a small white cake. Jisung humming a familiar tune with a woman you assumed was his mother. And clip after clip where the camcorder was pointed at the ceiling of a dark room — Jisung’s childhood bedroom — as the sounds of arguing and yelling echoed through the walls. Slowly but surely, the scenes began to grow familiar. 

“February 22nd, 2005.”

The day Jisung had stumbled across another woman in his parents’ bed, and his father had terrorized him until he promised not to tell anyone.

“June 3rd, 2006.”

His face-to-face encounter with his father’s mistress, one that left scars in the form of cigarette burns, red-lipped smiles, and tainted touches.

“December 31st, 2009.”

The day everything had gone wrong.

Stomach lurching, you watched as everything Jisung had told you — his rough voice shaking in your darkened apartment, dark eyes holding nightmares of years long past — took the form of grainy camera footage. His father crashing through the doorframe, hands choking the life from the woman beneath him. Even though the camera quality was poor, the woman’s pleading eyes, rolled up towards the tiny crack in the closet where Jisung had been hidden, seemed to pierce directly through you. 

It all seemed to happen in a flash — in the blink of an eye, there were flames licking bloodstained floors clean, the camcorder out of focus as Jisung limped through thick white snow and finally collapsed on top of his mother’s cold body. The gritty screams of anguish and pain seemed to ring in your ears long after Seungmin stopped the footage, and you lifted a shaking gaze to Jisung’s face. His eyes had been cast downwards the entire time, but even from across the room, you could see his violently trembling jaw, the ragged heave of his chest. How many times had he lived through this footage himself — in his nightmares, through half-delirious flashbacks, every time he closed his eyes?

“Thirteen years ago, there was a massive fire on the outskirts of Miroh Heights. The Han house was burned to the ground and left a single boy alive, without any relatives to take custody. Unable to fathom what exactly happened, police filed it away as a gas explosion, and the boy was tossed around foster homes and orphanages until it was eventually forgotten,” Seungmin informed them. He thanked Woojin internally as he spoke — after mentioning several times that Jisung’s past sounded strangely familiar, the police captain had been the one to finally connect the dots between the two cold cases, thirteen years apart.

“There were initial speculations of domestic abuse, but they were never investigated thoroughly. The case was neglected, left cold, and when the statute of limitations expired, it was simply dismissed as another tragedy.” Seungmin nodded at the clerk again, who slid the next memory card in.

This card was filled with what sounded like endless psychological evaluations — disembodied voices introducing themselves as social workers, child psychiatrists, and the like, all mercilessly bombarding Jisung with personal questions. The first half was either entirely black or out of focus, as if Jisung had been holding the camcorder down and clutching it close to his body. They had all given up when the young boy could barely get his answers out, the lingering fear and untreated trauma having locked his voice in his throat. 

“He’s a lost cause.”

“Problem kid.”

“Impossible to treat.”

You clenched your fists every time a social worker left the room, muttering under their breath in annoyance. Then, as the clips grew clearer, a child with round, catlike eyes and a pale expression beginning to appear in several of the frames.

Lee Minho. 

“At the beginning of this decade, we all know that Miroh Heights went through an economic rift — workers were laid off, young children abandoned on the streets. During these times, child abuse and child trafficking cases also skyrocketed.” Seungmin spoke as the screen flashed, the scene now showing what looked like a filthy, unfinished basement floor.

“We witnessed a rise of ‘suicide killers’ — namely, perpetrators who would kidnap and murder their own family members or vulnerable strangers before ending their own lives. Many were acting on their anger and grief through violence; others saw it as a form of revenge.” 

With a wince, you remembered what Minho had told you on the rooftop of the hospital that evening — when he and Jisung had been lured into a man’s home by their own hunger, and woke up to him trying to kill them. The sound of approaching footsteps filled the speakers, the camcorder pointed at an awkward angle and shaking uncontrollably before it clattered to the ground, and the footage cut out.

When the next clip began, it was pointed down at wide-eyed, twelve-year-old Jisung.

“Ah, now this is jus’ perfect. The cops’ll love this, yes they will.” You shivered at the man’s hoarse voice behind the camcorder, flinching as the barrel of a gun was pressed to Jisung’s forehead. “Now, boy — I want you to beg for your life — go on.”

Frozen in your seat, you watched as all hell broke loose — the man pressing the trigger just as Jisung managed to cut the cords free, the camcorder smashing into concrete as Jisung fought for his life. When the lens finally focused again, what you saw made your blood run cold. A twelve-year-old boy kneeling before the mangled corpse of a grown man, cherub-like face drenched with crimson. You heard Minho’s shallow, terrified breathing behind the camcorder as Jisung turned towards him, the look in his eyes sending an icy chill down your spine. It was the exact same look he had given you when you had found him at the diner, screaming out his name as if trying to wake him from a nightmare. 

Emptiness.

Even through the grainy film, you could catch the moment Jisung’s consciousness returned to him, soft brown eyes shifting and focusing into a childlike, dazed expression once again. 

“Minho, can we go home?”

The footage sputtered to a stop. The visceral scene had been exactly as the coroner had described to you on the hospital rooftop, and yet nothing could have prepared you for it. You only realised how badly you had been shaking when Felix gently nudged you, peering at your face worriedly. When you forced yourself to unclench your fists, you winced at the red half-moon weals your nails had left in your palms.

“Both the defendant and coroner Lee Minho were involved in a kidnapping case, and subjected to extreme violence at the ages of twelve and thirteen. The perpetrator died in the incident. There was no culprit to catch. Once again, the case was buried, under the economic turmoil Miroh Heights was experiencing, by neglectful law enforcement.” 

Seungmin turned back to look at the psychiatrist. “Now, I’m no expert in analysing family matters, but I think we can confirm several cases of domestic abuse from this footage alone. Parental neglect. Repeated exposure to violence. Years of sexual harassment. How would you psychoanalyse a patient who has gone through these events?”

The red-faced man was evidently shaken, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stuttered out, “This — this is more than enough to cause severe cases of post-traumatic stress disorder.” His eyes darted around the courtroom nervously, as if the words were refusing to come out of his mouth. 

“He looks like he’s scared,” you murmured. “Like he’s still unwilling to talk.”

“Kang must have made some sort of a deal with him,” Woojin replied under his breath, shaking his head. “But it’s all over now — he’s got nothing more to lose.”

“You swore an oath before the trial began,” Seungmin pressed sternly, not taking his gaze off the nervous man. “‘I do solemnly declare that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.’ Tell me the truth, sir.”

Cowering under Seungmin’s hard gaze, the psychiatrist finally caved. “The...the fact that these events took place during the defendant’s childhood is even more significant. Children’s minds are—are molded from a very young age. The majority of your adult behaviour is shaped by what you’ve experienced as a child, you see.”

“Earlier, you mentioned the possibility of sociopathy. You reached this conclusion because of the defendant’s criminal records, and reported behaviour such as —” Seungmin pulled out Kang’s papers, quickly flipping through. “Theft. Pyromanic, destructive, and self-destructive tendencies.” He raised an eyebrow at the boys from the diner attack. “Bordering on multiple personas.”

“U-uh, well — using the information given during the previous trial, those symptoms did correlate strongly with antisocial personality disorder. But with this newfound context —” the psychiatrist lowered his head meekly, “th-the symptoms are actually closer to those of an individual suffering from extreme, untreated, PTSD.”

Exhaling slowly, Seungmin nodded at the judge. “Post-traumatic stress disorder. Let’s re-examine the defendant’s behaviour under this lens, then. How would PTSD explain violent tendencies in a child?”

“They’re a form of an exaggerated startle response — a sudden reaction triggered by something that upsets the patient. It’s a common long-term aftereffect of childhood abuse or trauma. Some patients fall unconscious, some experience panic attacks or seizures. In the case of Han Jisung...it came in the form of repeated violent outbursts.”

You thought back to the man Jisung had attacked, seemingly out of nowhere at the Yellow Wood — the dead man whose girlfriend, Chan had told you, had actually come to the precinct a few days before Jisung’s trial.

“She was crying real bad. I thought she would want him—Jisung—dead, that she would tell us to convict him, no matter what,” Chan had told you, the detective’s face still twisted in confusion. “And she doesn’t want to testify — she’s still dealing with the trauma, and doesn’t want anything to do with the trial. But y/n — the girl was crying for him. For Jisung. Said that the kid stepped in right when her boyfriend was hitting her, and — told her to go home.”

An exaggerated startle response. You remembered it from your classes, a sudden reaction triggered by something that upset the patient. Like domestic abuse. Unsolicited sexual approaches. Or, you shivered, little things — like the colour red. His father, his mistress, his mother, his kidnapper — did Jisung constantly see their faces in the shadows, in strangers that were repeating the same mistakes?

“The witnesses who knew Han Jisung when he was younger,” Seungmin continued, turning to the two injured boys from the diner, “also testified that he often changed expressions ‘like a mask.’ Assuming this is true, why might the defendant exhibit this sort of behaviour?”

“Abused children — or people who have experienced severe trauma — can develop dissociative habits. Disconnecting from past memories, information, or even present experiences as a defense mechanism...which is why the defendant might appear to change moods often, or show drastically different sides of himself in different situations.”

“In other words,” Seungmin said slowly, brow furrowing in concentration, “the defendant experienced so many traumatic events during his childhood, that the untreated aftereffects impaired his emotional development into adulthood. Which would explain why his startle response slowly morphed, on a larger scale, into something extremely violent and dangerous.”

The psychiatrist looked weary and defeated. “Correct.”

Motioning for the man to take a seat — which he did gladly — Seungmin pulled out the next envelope — the coroner’s photos from the Yellow Wood attacks. Wordlessly, he projected them onto the screen, eliciting small gasps of horror and disgust around the room. 

“Earlier, Prosecutor Kang argued that the violent mutilation of the victims was proof that the perpetrator performed these gruesome acts and mutilations out of personal enjoyment and depravity.” Seungmin turned to address the judge, voice firm. 

“Your Honour, under this new context, I would argue that the photos only serve as further visual evidence depicting the defendant’s mental state at the time of the crime.” He flipped through the images. “Multiple wound sites, messy blood spattering, extreme blunt force trauma. And—if the coroner was telling the truth—a stone from the scene of the crime as the murder weapon. All these signs lead us to believe that the defendant’s actions, no, his judgement, was acutely impaired. This response, these attacks, were triggered due to a pre-existing mental condition.”

The room shifted uneasily as his words sunk in, and the judge fixed her stern gaze onto Seungmin. “Does the prosecution have any evidence that directly refutes the previous claim of first degree murder? To prove that the murders were not premeditated, or intentional, beyond a reasonable doubt?”

Think, Seungmin, think. He racked his mind furiously, trying to recall every piece of evidence that you, Chan, and Woojin had gone through with him. Photographs, diagrams, testimony transcripts — Seungmin’s eyes trailed off to the pile of envelopes the clerk had brought, and landed on the packet containing Yang Jeongin’s tapes.

That’s it.

“Yes, Your Honour.” He cleared his throat, mind racing to connect the dots. “As we all know, the living witness of the Yellow Wood attacks, Yang Jeongin, was attacked at around three o’clock in the morning. He worked several late shifts for delivery companies around the town.” Seungmin nodded towards Jeongin. “What we did not know until recently, however, is that the witness had a hobby of recording himself during these shifts on his own Walkman.”

An alarmed murmur rippled through the crowd as Seungmin shook the tapes out from the envelope, handing them to the clerk. After several tense moments, there was a faint crackling, and the recording began to play.

The first tape held a medley of acoustic songs the delivery boy had mixed himself — just as you had remembered it.

The second tape was empty — the one Minho had stolen from the scene of the crime, and you had eventually recovered from his office.

When the clerk popped in the third, the soft sound of breathing and crunching gravel filled the room, and you shivered. This was the tape you had listened to with Seo Changbin — the tape that had turned your entire life upside down.

“I.N. here! It is currently...2:04 A.M.!”

You glanced at the faces around the room — everyone was on edge, and you felt no different. You could still hear Jeongin’s cry of surprise and pain echoing in your ears, the horrible crash as he hit the forest floor. What was Seungmin thinking? How was a recording of the witness being attacked going to prove Jisung’s innocence? If anything, it was incriminating evidence.

Jeongin’s cheery, oblivious voice continued until you heard the woman’s scream in the distance, muffled under the delivery boy’s distracted humming. Then, a man crying out in guttural pain — the man, you knew now, that had been killed by Jisung in the Yellow Wood. The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping under the bicycle wheels grew louder, and you knew that this had been the moment Jeongin had entered the Wood — heading closer and closer towards what would later become the scene of the crime. 

“Hello? Is everything okay over there?” There was a small gasp of horror as Jeongin caught sight of the body. “U-um. Is he—do you need help? I can call an ambulance. What hap—” 

It happened before you could flinch to cover your ears. The horribly familiar crunch of stone meeting skull, a cry of pain cut off by a deafening whump as the Walkman had slammed against the ground. The entire courtroom seemed to hold its breath as it listened, and only then did it finally hit you why Seungmin was playing the tapes. As the sound of another boy’s jagged, uneven breathing filled the speakers, you suddenly remembered what came at the end of the recording. The first time you had heard it, it had made your heart plummet straight down into the pit of your stomach, sending your entire world crashing down around you. 

This time, the fluttering in your chest felt almost like hope.

Han Jisung’s voice, choked with raw, horrified sobs, echoed through the room, and you saw everyone freeze.

“Who—why? Why is it you? Why are you here?” 

The crying was muffled by the sound of hands fumbling over Jeongin’s clothing, as if frantically checking for a pulse. Seungmin stopped the tape, turning towards the bewildered jury. “Do those sound like the words of a cold-blooded psychopath?”

The judge waved a hand towards Jeongin. “Can the witness himself attest to this?”

“I...I blacked out pretty quickly,” Jeongin answered slowly, furrowing his brow as if it still hurt to remember. “But the last thing I remembered seeing was...a boy’s crying face over me, trying to make sure if I was okay.”

“Can you identify this boy?”

Nodding, Jeongin pointed to Jisung.

“Furthermore,” Seungmin continued, tapping the cracked silver Walkman, “these tapes were found in Yang Jeongin’s clothing after he was admitted to the hospital. If the defendant had truly attacked Mr. Yang out of cold blood, he wouldn’t have left such incriminating evidence in the boy’s hands. And if Han Jisung had no idea he was being recorded, that rules out the possibility of him faking the recordings as well.”

“Even so,” the judge replied, stern eyes narrowed, “we cannot be sure that Han Jisung did not intend to leave Yang Jeongin to die. There are many murder cases where the perpetrator shows remorse almost immediately, but still attempted to cover up the crime.”

“Of course. However, Your Honour, you may also remember that Yang Jeongin was not found in the Yellow Wood where the attacks had initially taken place...but rather, the doorstep of Glow Cafe.” At this, Hyunjin looked up, eyes narrowed, and Seungmin motioned for the clerk to continue playing the clip. After several moments, you heard the rough sound of cloth scraping against the ground, growing louder and louder — as if something was being lifted and dragged. 

No. You could still hear Jisung’s broken breathing underneath the sound, and the realisation hit you.

Jisung was carrying Jeongin’s body.

You had thought the tape had already ended the first time you’d listened with Seo Changbin in his record shop — after Jisung’s voice had made you shove the Walkman away, not daring to believe what you had just heard. For days, it had sat, neglected in your apartment, until you had brought it into Seungmin’s office for him to look at. The next day, it had already fallen into the hands of Prosecutor Kang, but by some stroke of luck, Seungmin must have already managed to listen to it in its entirety beforehand.

“Yang Jeongin was found at around 4 in the morning, when Hwang Hyunjin, the owner of Glow Cafe, was awoken by the doorbell. The ringer of this doorbell was never identified, because any possible fingerprint evidence was already contaminated and rendered useless by the time Mr. Yang was safely transported to the ICU.”

The sound of dead leaves and dirt crunching under the soles of Jisung’s shoes gave way to hard concrete as he reached the main road. There was a soft thump as Jeongin was lowered onto the ground, Jisung’s laboured breathing filling the still night air.

Then the familiar chime of Glow Cafe’s doorbell pierced through the speakers, and you watched as Hyunjin jolted up, mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Yes. It’s exactly what you’re all thinking.” Seungmin turned to face the stunned spectators as the sound of Jisung’s footsteps grew fainter as he ran away, and the tape ended. “The defendant was the same person who saved him.”

The judge cleared her throat unsteadily, grim eyes flickering between Seungmin and Jisung. “Does the defense have anything to say to this?”

For the first time since the trial had started, Jisung lifted his head. He was met with a roomful of mixed stares — apprehension, curiosity, fear — and he felt his tongue immediately dissolve into dust, the words sticking to his throat like congealed poison.

When Jisung stayed silent, Seungmin spoke carefully, “A fair trial wouldn’t be complete without hearing from the defendant himself. In his own words.” His eyes were almost gentle, fixing a steady look on Jisung’s dark, wary face. “Would you like to testify?”

Your heart was hammering in your throat as the silence grew thicker and thicker. After what felt like an eternity, it was finally broken by the creak of the chair as Jisung pushed it back and stood up. To your utter surprise, he stepped up to the middle of the room, wordlessly turning to face Seungmin. Still, the look on his face held the same blank, guarded expression you had seen so many times when your sessions with him had taken a turn for the worse, and you gripped the edge of your seat uneasily, having no idea what to expect from this turn of events.

If Seungmin was as surprised as you were, he did a better job at hiding it. He muttered something to the clerk, who began to project familiar faces and photos onto the screen. The victims, you realised, and the crime scenes. A slim woman in her thirties, her thin lips a smudge of bright red, next to a photo of charred blood and bone. The prostitute.

“Do you recognise this woman?” Seungmin asked, pointing to her picture.

Jisung frowned, furrowing his brow at the picture. Something seemed to stir in the back of his mind, but there was a dull throbbing in his temples that made it difficult to focus. “I—I’m not sure.” 

Someone in the crowd made an unconvinced sound, and Jisung shrunk back. The pictures went on and on — a corpse mangled with chemical burns, a man’s body swinging from the rooftop, a bashed-in skull on the forest floor. Each image made Jisung’s head pound, the floor beginning to spin as if threatening to split open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. Did he recognise them? Glimpses of their faces flashed in the back of his mind like jumbled jigsaw pieces, but the more he tried to grab onto them, the more they fell apart. His fingertips tingled with the faint, itching memory of a stranger’s blood — strangers who, in a fleeting moment, had taken the shape of a former tormentor. Father. Mistress. Hurt. Pain. 

“I can’t — remember anything,” Jisung choked hoarsely. He remembered blacking out, and waking up. He remembered his nightmares, his flashbacks. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember the faces staring back at him from the screen. 

You sound insane, a voice in the back of his mind hissed. As he met the eyes of the jury, he could almost hear what they were thinking. 

You really are a psychopath. 

Sensing the doubtful whispering beginning around the room, Seungmin hurriedly moved onto the next question. “Let’s — let’s go back to the psychiatrist’s statements, then. Mr. Han, could you tell me what it was like growing up in your family?”

His question was met with silence again, Jisung screwing his eyes shut as the prosecutor’s voice echoed in his head. Family. It was a word that brought ugly memories bubbling to the surface every time, memories made of broken beer bottles and pale, bruised cheeks. His head was aching, a cold sweat forming in his palms as he clenched his fists, stomach churning. No. No. He couldn’t talk about it — wouldn’t talk about it — 

“Can you...tell me about your mother’s eyes?”

The abrupt, familiar question, carried by the prosecutor’s softened voice, was what made Jisung open his eyes again, the trembling in his hands stilling. The room around them was shifting with confused murmurs at the strange question, but Seungmin didn’t break eye contact with the younger boy. 

The prosecutor watched Jisung’s fists slowly unclench, brow furrowing slightly as he recognised the question, and Seungmin thought back to the conversation he had had with you over the phone after you had woken up in the hospital.

“What’s this?”

“A psychiatric analysis — on Jisung,” you explained, referring to the report files you had sent the prosecutor. “I know it’s not — not much, but...”

“For all we know, it might be the only existing verbal testimony that Jisung has,” Seungmin assured you. “From what I’ve heard, he’s never opened up to anyone before. What I meant was, why are you sending it to me?”

You bit your lip. “Chan isn’t allowed to stand trial, and I — I haven’t graduated yet, so my thesis won’t be taken seriously as evidence. I can’t testify as a psychiatric expert, either. But I thought that — I could at least tell you all the questions that lead me to his diagnosis. In case you get to question him at the trial — he’ll know they’re my questions. Maybe...he’ll finally change his mind.”

Seungmin sighed wearily. “I was removed from the case this morning, Miss l/n. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to step foot into the courtroom, let alone question him.”

And so the questions had been left, buried and forgotten in the back of Seungmin’s mind — until this exact moment, when he had remembered them just in time. 

What comes to mind when you think about your mother’s eyes?

Jisung’s vision went black as his senses were flooded with memories, nearly sending him doubling over. His mother’s eyes. The last time he had looked into those eyes, they had already been glazing over, the life in them seeping away as her blood pooled over the broken floorboards of his childhood home. His mother’s eyes. Suddenly, it was as if he was ten years old all over again, shrouded in the shadows of a cramped closet as his father strangled the life out of his mother right in front of him. 

Guilt, he wanted to say. Pain. The kind that never goes away. Blinking feverishly, Jisung’s gaze darted around the room — and when he finally found your face in the audience, he felt his heart stop.

You were looking at him with the exact same eyes his mother had, that day. 

From your first date to this very moment, Jisung never knew why you had always reminded him so much of her — you two looked nothing alike, after all. Wherever he went, he had always been chased by fragments of the nightmares he wanted to forget, demons of his past that had taken the forms of the man at the Yellow Wood, the red-lipped hooker, Na Jangmin, Park Beomsoo. And yet every moment he spent with you, he caught familiar glimpses of her instead — pieces of the only warmth, and happiness, and home he had ever known before it had all been cruelly ripped away.

For years, the only thing he had been able to remember was that day. How his mother’s eyes had been wide and pleading as she bled out on the floor, desperately shaking her head at him before finally falling limp. The flames and endless smoke seemed to eat away at his happier memories until there was nothing left but ashes and tar. 

But you made him remember a time before everything went wrong, when things had been peaceful, when he still had somewhere — someone — to go home to.

For thirteen years, he had been running from the memory, from the feeling, afraid that confronting it would make him relive the pain all over again. But now, for the first time, Han Jisung wondered if he had missed something else among those repressed memories all along.

His mother’s eyes as she shook her head one last time had been warm, not just because they had been filled with pain and tears — but because they had been blazing with one last, unspoken message. The same one he saw reflected in your own eyes now.

When you shook your own head gently, pleading eyes brimming with tears, the message finally rang clear in his mind.

Don’t blame yourself for what happened. Han Jisung, you have to keep on living.

Stunned, he tore his gaze away, only to see Bang Chan watching him with the same expression — then Woojin, Seungmin, Felix, Yang Jeongin. Even Hwang Hyunjin had worry written all over his face — worry for him — and it all suddenly hit Jisung like a punch in the gut.

Why did all these people fight for him?

Why had his mother died for him?

What comes to mind when you think about your mother’s eyes?

“Love,” Jisung breathed, his soft voice filling the empty silence. “Love.” The memories were coming back to him now — not in jagged, gut-wrenching flashes, but slowly. Steadily.

For the first time in his life, Han Jisung was in control.

“Can you tell me about your parents?” Seungmin pressed gently, seeing the tension slowly leave Jisung’s body.

“My parents,” Jisung repeated. His mouth felt like it was trying the words out. He remembered once, when you had asked him the same question, his head had felt like it was on the verge of splitting. Now, the memories felt strangely detached, as if he were telling someone else’s story. “They were happy once, or at least that’s what I’ve heard.” He paused. “My...father...never wanted to get married. They never planned to...have me, but my mother refused an abortion. They — it was a shotgun wedding,” Jisung finished quietly. “And then things got worse from there.”

“What was it like growing up in your family?” Seungmin tried the question again, watching Jisung carefully.

“My old man’s favourite thing to tell me growing up was how I was never wanted,” Jisung gave a weak smile. “I think you can imagine.”

You watched as Seungmin continued asking Jisung your questions, as if slowly coaxing the answers out from the darkness and painting the cold courtroom with the scenes of Jisung’s past.

“My mother was a waitress. The work was tough, but it didn’t pay much. My father convinced her to work more shifts, so that she was around as little as possible. During that time, he…” Jisung swallowed hard. “He had his affairs with other women when she wasn’t home, and beat her bloody when she was. She always tried to hide it from me, too — said the less I knew the better, but I was getting older, and my father’s anger was slowly shifting over to me. And when his...mistresses stayed over, they started noticing me, too.” Jisung fell silent then, and you suddenly thought back to the white burn scars on his arms and legs, the numerous unexplained markings on his stomach bringing tears to your eyes. How many more did he have hidden on his body, painful reminders binding him to a past he tried so hard to forget?

“Your Honour,” Seungmin finally broke the hushed silence, “with all the information taken into consideration, I think we can confirm beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant has witnessed numerous traumatic events during his childhood — and that they more than likely worsened his mental condition as he grew older.” Seungmin turned to Jisung, remembering another question you had written in your report. “How...do you cope with the past?” 

Jisung was silent for several moments before answering, his words echoing your last therapy session. “I...don’t….like to think about it, or remember it. Every time I do, I…” he trailed off unsteadily, and he tried again. “E-every time, I...I��”

His throat was closing up again, the words echoing in his mind as if mocking him. How was he supposed to explain the headaches that never truly went away, the dizziness that hit him like a punch in the gut? Or, worse, the gaps in his memories when he blacked out, making him feel as though he were slowly going insane?

Stay silent, whispered a voice in the back of his head. Who will understand you? Who will believe you? He looked back at the roomful of faces, their cold, wary stares piercing through him like knives. You were never meant to live. You should have died on that day, thirteen years ago— 

“Han Jisung, you are such an idiot.” 

The sudden memory of your voice cut through his thoughts and made him jolt in surprise— but it didn’t stop there, all the things you had once told him slowly growing louder and louder and jarring him awake from his own thoughts.

“You’re not the psychopath they’re making you out to be. I know you.”

He remembered the way you had relaxed and fallen asleep in his arms, even after you had found out they were stained with blood, because you trusted him completely.

“I don’t want you to show me. I want you to tell me. I want to hear it from you, in your own words, Jisung.”

He remembered your face every time he had tried to tell you about his past — your soft, patient eyes and gentle voice, the worry and genuine concern on your face that he had always mistaken for repulsion and fear. You had been shaken, definitely, terrified, even — but you had always been willing to listen to him speak, even when Jisung had been too afraid to try.

“I like you, Han Jisung. I. Like. You.”

He met your eyes across the room then, and felt a small, incredulous breath leave his lips. It was you — it was always you, who had the power to make the walls he had built around himself crumble to dust with a single touch; you, pulling him out of the darkness he had always succumbed helplessly to; you, who had finally woken him from the living nightmare he had been trapped in his entire life. 

You reminded him what it was like to live again. You made him want to live again, without fears, without regrets.

“Mr. Han? Could you please describe how these memories make you feel? How you usually deal with them?”

“I don’t know how to,” Jisung breathed out at last. “Every time I try to remember, my...heart starts racing like my chest is about to burst. My head pounds until I can’t see anything, and — it’s like something in there...snaps. And then I...black out completely.” 

Seungmin nodded, glancing back to the nervous, red-faced man. “Do you have...anything to add or deny regarding the psychiatrist’s diagnoses?”

“You were right,” Jisung replied simply, but he wasn’t talking to the psychiatrist. He was looking straight at you, and to his own surprise, a smile tugged at his dry lips. It felt like the simple sentence had somehow set him free. “I have trouble sleeping, because I always end up having the same nightmares. There’s missing blank spots in my memories when I wake up in a place I don’t recognise, with no idea how I got there.”

Jisung watched as your eyes widened, recognising his words — he was echoing the same symptoms you had confronted him about during your last therapy session, the ones he had coldly denied out of panic and fear. “I’ve always been afraid to let people get close to me. But sometimes, there are things that — that remind me of times that I’d rather forget, and before I know it, everything begins to spiral out of control.” He gave a small smile to Seungmin, who had stayed silent, surprised at Jisung’s sudden honesty. “That’s it, then. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

You watched as Jisung’s eyes flickered around the room, face as open and tranquil as a child’s — and that was what nearly broke your heart. Knowing that somewhere, beneath the prison uniform that was too baggy for his lean, tired frame, was the shell of a child the world had failed, a child that had given up asking to be saved.

“No further questions,” Seungmin said quietly, and Jisung walked back to his seat as the young prosecutor turned to face the judge. “Your Honour,” he began slowly, as if momentarily unable to find the words. “I think we have reason to believe that the attacks were provoked — not exactly by the victims themselves, but from past traumas that were never dealt with properly, and triggered again and again until they spiralled out of control.”

Seungmin raised his voice then, for the entire courtroom to hear, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the fluttering nerves in his body. “The scattered killing patterns were never planned. The correlations between the victims and causes of death don’t show a serial killer’s M.O., they show triggers.” He took a shaky breath. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t a serial killer case. It isn’t the case of a psychopath on some nonsensical, murderous rampage. This is the aftereffect of a domestic violence case gone cold and swept under the rug over a decade ago — and we can’t afford to let it slip away again.”

The judge fixed Seungmin with a cold, steely look over her glasses. “Prosecutor Kim. Remember that you cannot — should not — let your emotions get in the way in a court of law. You are supposed to assess the case with cold reasoning and logic.”

Seungmin looked down, heart hammering in his throat. The Kim Seungmin he knew would have been ashamed, and apologised immediately. The Kim Seungmin he knew would have thought he was crazy for crossing the line.

He realised, in that moment, that he hated the old Kim Seungmin with a passion.

“Emotions don’t always get in the way,” he found himself saying, eyes flickering to you in the audience, “and they don’t always make you weak.” Seungmin thought of Prosecutor Kang then, and his voice grew stronger. “If anything, they keep you human.”

He looked back up at the judge now, whose face had frozen in surprise. “When did justice become so cold? We’re taught that the law is supposed to protect the vulnerable, not prosecute them.”

The judge looked visibly shaken, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as her eyes darted wildly between Seungmin and Jisung. Finally, with an unfathomable expression on her face, she turned towards the jury, clearing her throat unsteadily. 

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that concludes the evidence to be presented on this case. You are now to deliberate, and determine whether or not Han Jisung is guilty of nineteen counts of first-degree murder, assault, and arson. 

“If you believe that this has been proved beyond a reasonable doubt, then you should find the defendant guilty, and eligible for capital punishment.”

Capital punishment, you thought, the words sweeping a breath of cold across the room. The death penalty.

“The court stands adjourned until the verdict of the jury.”

━━━━━━━━

Over an hour had passed since the jury had stepped into the deliberation suite, and each tick of the clock on the wall made you more and more nauseous. You put your head down, hands buried in your hair as if that could calm the anxiety thrumming through your veins. A few times, you had heard shouting and angry, raised voices coming from the room the jury was in. Each passing minute seemed to make the weight of the situation more obvious, the tension in the courtroom thick and suffocating.

Felix was rubbing your back as soothingly as he could. “y/n, hey, look at me — deep breaths, okay? You’re okay—”

He was cut off when you lifted your head to look at him, cursing the tears already welling in your eyes. You hated feeling this way — you felt so weak and powerless, and just imagining how much of a mess you must have looked made it even worse. You promised yourself you would stay calm, but every thought that crossed your mind kept leading to another until you were exhausted and overwhelmed.

“They could walk out any minute, ‘lix,” you told him, voice wavering as the weight of your own words sunk in. “They could walk out any minute, and end his life.”

You couldn’t even say Jisung’s name out loud, let alone look him in the eyes. Felix watched as you wiped furiously at your own tears, the sight of you so distressed rendering him speechless, and he did the only thing he could think of. Grimly, your best friend pulled you into a hug, and his reassuring warmth in the cold courtroom made you want to break down all over again. Around you, you could hear mixed opinions being exchanged.

“That poor boy.”

“Who could have guessed the case would take a turn like this? But do you believe him?”

“A murderer is still a murderer — he’s too dangerous to be left alive, don’t you think?”

You were beginning to wish you had taken Hyunjin and Woojin’s offer to step out of the room for fresh air when the heavy doors swung open, making a hush fall over the room. The jury filed in just as Hyunjin and the police captain returned and took their seats.

“Order in the court,” the clerk called, and the judge cleared her throat.

“Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?”

The forewoman nodded grimly. “Yes, Your Honour.”

“Those in favour of sentencing the accused, Han Jisung, to capital punishment, please rise.”

The words sent an icy shock down your spine, the entire room seeming to hold its breath as they watched the jury. You didn’t dare move, as if by doing so, you could prevent the next moments from coming crashing down on you, as if somehow, you could stop the horrible verdict from coming true. It was as if everyone had frozen still, time stopping for what felt like the longest moment of your life.

The ticking of the clock pricked your ears, and you suddenly realised that time hadn’t stopped. 

No one in the jury had moved to stand up.

“The jury returns a verdict of not guilty, despite believing that the accused committed the crimes he is charged with,” the forewoman standing at the front of the jury said, and the members behind her nodded. “This verdict was unanimous.”

“They all agree that Jisung killed those people,” you heard Hyunjin’s stunned voice behind you, “but they’re returning a verdict of not guilty? What does that mean?”

“Jury nullification,” both Chan and Seungmin spoke at the same time, and the room turned to look at the younger prosecutor as he spoke up. 

“The jury has the right to overturn the law, if they believe the law was used incorrectly—”

A reporter behind you blurted out angrily, “Are you suggesting that the murders were delusional, Prosecutor Kim?”

“Or,” Seungmin continued, his voice growing stronger than ever before as he saw the eyes of the judge and his coworkers widen in disbelief. I must be insane, he thought, but he couldn’t stop the words coming from his mouth. “Or, the jury disagrees with the law the prosecution has chosen to charge the defendant under.” He picked up Prosecutor Kang’s case file from the desk, flipping over the papers. “First degree murder.”

The forewoman nodded. “The law Han Jisung is being tried with was immorally and wrongly applied to him in the first place. We believe he caused the killings, without a doubt, but with the circumstances presented, we cannot convict him of serial first degree murder.”

“The previous prosecutor claimed these charges without making any effort to consider Han Jisung’s past,” one man on the jury added, “All the evidence proves a history of abuse and trauma that lead to an unstable mental condition.”

Their words sounded strangely familiar, and your eyes immediately widened when you realised why. “Those — those are the words from my psych report,” you whispered breathlessly to Felix, “Quoted, word for word. They must have all read your articles — we did it, ‘lix, it really worked.”

“But murder is murder. He should be held accountable,” a spectator protested across the room. He was immediately silenced by the bailiff, but not before Seungmin turned to him with a steady stare.

“‘Murder is murder’,” Seungmin echoed, “‘The world of law is cold.’ ‘The law is harsh, but it is the law.’  Those are the phrases you always hear in court. And those are the same beliefs that cost vulnerable people their lives.”

Hyunjin looked at Jeongin, whose gaze were cast to the floor, eyes stormy. 

Seungmin continued, “You lose your empathy, and mark complex cases like these under ‘mass murderer’, or ‘psychopath’ without bothering to truly investigate the gray areas, because you think doing so would be—” his mind flashed to Kang, “a waste of time.” He looked at Jisung now, a boy who had been confined by labels his entire life: problem child, delinquent, murderer, monster. “Han Jisung is worth more than that. There’s more to him than his past, than his abusers, than the mental torment he’s suffered through for years.

“He’s a boy who never got the chance at life he deserved. The system has failed him once, and we cannot — should not — hold his trial like this.” Seungmin turned to the judge one last time, eyes burning with sincerity. “Your Honour. Will you end this vicious cycle of use and abuse, once and for all? Or will you choose, once again, to sweep it back into the shadows?”

She was staring back at him with a look that should have petrified Seungmin on the spot, but he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stand his ground. There was a long, weighted silence. Finally, the judge shook her head slowly, and Seungmin swore he saw the smallest of smiles tug at her taut mouth as she turned to face the rest of the courtroom. 

You felt your heart nearly leap out of your throat when the verdict finally fell from the judge’s lips.

“I hereby pronounce Han Jisung...not guilty.”

If you hadn’t been sitting down, you were sure you would have collapsed onto the floor.

The world was spinning around you, the sheer relief washing over you in overwhelming waves and turning your limbs to jelly. In your peripheral vision, you saw Hyunjin’s mouth drop open in astonishment, Felix turning to you with an incredulous smile on his face, Chan and Woojin completely frozen. 

You barely registered the judge’s voice as she continued speaking, the rest of her words passing through you as if you were made of thin air. Pardoned on the death of his father and the arson of his childhood home by reason of self-defense. Regarding the Miroh Heights killings, the defendant was unable to understand the significance of his criminal actions due to a pre-existing mental condition. He is acquitted from the death penalty, and will serve no prison time.

However, he will be transferred to a psychiatric institution and closely monitored for the time being. The suitable amount of time he is to spend there will be prescribed on a later date after the case is properly re-examined...

People were talking around you, one of your friends was calling your name, and you swore you even heard a few people clapping, but you weren’t listening anymore. There was only one other person on your mind.

When your eyes found Jisung’s face, he was looking straight at you — with the same look in his eyes that had given you butterflies the first time you met him, and the same look in his eyes you had seen before you had fallen unconscious, bleeding out in his arms.

He was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

━━━━━━━━

“You had some nerve back there, Prosecutor Kim.”

The courtroom had been emptied out, and Seungmin had been collecting his files and notes when he heard a voice from behind him. At first, he thought he had misheard — people were buzzing outside in the lobby, the commotion so loud it seemed to be humming through the walls — but he turned around, and saw the judge walking up to him.

Bits and pieces of the trial came back to him, and Seungmin cringed inwardly as he met her hard gaze. Just how many lines had he crossed? Years of being careful, meticulous, completely down the drain— 

“You had some nerve back there,” she repeated, and Seungmin lowered his eyes. He heard her sigh deeply. “But you’re a fine prosecutor, Kim.”

Stunned, Seungmin raised his head, and realised with a start that she was smiling at him. “I haven’t seen your kind in a while. It was refreshing, to say the least, and it puts me at ease to know that this field still has people like you.”

She tucked her glasses into her robes, turning to leave.

“Never change, Prosecutor Kim.”

━━━━━━━━

“Prosecutor Kang, look this way!”

Kang was blinded by flashing cameras the moment he stepped out from the holding cell. The older prosecutor’s eyes were dark as he was pushed through the mob of reporters and citizens, the guards flanking him making no effort to be gentle.

“Is it true you hid crucial evidence from your own prosecution?”

“Did you bribe your own witnesses?”

“How many other cases have you tampered with?”

“None!” Kang snarled at the reporter, desperation rising in his throat like bile. “Lies—I’ve never wrongfully convicted a single person. These are all—” 

“You’re the liar.”

The crowd stopped, turning towards the voice that had shouted over them. Yang Jeongin was standing at the end of the hallway, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Just the sight of Kang was enough to make him tremble like a young child again, words stuck momentarily in his throat. This was the same man he had met in court all those years ago, the man who had mercilessly delivered his father’s life sentence with a snakelike smile on his pale lips. Taking a shaky breath, Jeongin mustered up his courage, and ran up to him.

“Please stop this already,” Jeongin pleaded, eyes searching Kang’s bewildered face for signs of guilt, remorse, anything. Kang didn’t seem to recognise him, and the young boy’s voice was breaking as he fought back tears. “Please tell the truth, just this once. I-I don’t know why you’re doing this, but—it doesn’t have to be this way—”

There was a gasp as a few reporters stumbled, and the crowd rippled forward. Kang was knocked off-balance, tumbling to the ground. He cursed, fumbling to get back on his feet — and saw a hand, outstretched towards him from a hoodie sleeve that was clearly too large for its owner. He looked up into the young boy’s face again, his fox-like eyes widened in concern, and finally realised with a jolt who he was talking to.

Nearly a decade ago, Kang thought — an old fool who had picked a fight with high-ranking company officials, no? And then the crackpot had pleaded with Kang, saying something about a son he had to take care of — a young boy— 

Jeongin put his hand on Kang’s arm when the prosecutor didn’t move, and pulled him up. “Mr. Kang, my father—”

Feeling a sudden rage surge through his body, Kang drew his fist back and punched the boy across his jaw. 

Jeongin crumpled to the ground, the side of his face already blooming with red. “You brat,” Kang seethed as cries of horror erupted from the crowd, guards seizing him and trying to pull him away. “What do you understand? Han Jisung, your old man — people like them don’t deserve to walk free.”

You had just stepped out of the courtroom when a commotion in the hallway had made you look over, the scene that had greeted your eyes making you freeze. Jeongin had been clutching Prosecutor Kang’s arm, looking up at the older man imploringly — and his expression had been genuinely kind, almost pitying, his mouth opening and closing frantically as though he were pleading with him. You had shaken your head in disbelief, trying to push through the throng of shocked citizens — only Yang Jeongin’s heart was big enough to look his parents’ tormentor in the eyes, and help him. 

Then Kang had suddenly struck Jeongin, and now the delivery boy was curling up in pain on the ground as the prosecutor screamed at him.

“They were foolish enough — depraved enough  — to violate those laws, and I charged them with what they deserved. It’s as simple as—”

The next thing you knew, you were in front of Kang, palm outstretched, and you had slapped him hard across the face.

The entire crowd fell dead silent, Jeongin looking up at you from the floor in dazed disbelief. Even Kang was speechless as he looked back at you, holding his jaw, eyes about to pop out of their sockets.

“It seems like you know everything about law, Prosecutor Kang,” you said, voice shaking with anger, “but you know nothing about being human.”

Kang opened his mouth, but for once, nothing came out. The hallway was erupting in chaos again as cameras clicked and flashed eagerly. The guards began to drag Kang away before it could get more hectic, your last glimpses of the corrupt prosecutor disappearing behind the reporters’ bobbing heads. As you helped Jeongin up, checking his head worriedly, you felt a hand pull at your own arm. You turned to see Hyunjin, and judging by the look on his face, he had seen everything.

“Is this just going to be a thing now?” The barista asked, side-eyeing you wearily as he held onto Jeongin protectively, “Are you just going to start slapping everyone who crosses you?”

“Maybe,” you muttered mutinously. “It’s faster, and less emotionally draining than negotiating.”

“You’re studying to be a therapist, y/n,” Hyunjin reminded you exasperatedly, and you let out a small laugh, pouting slightly. The barista smiled too, despite himself, and you both looked over at Jeongin. The boy’s eyes were staring over the crowd’s heads, through the lobby doors, and you realised he was watching the officers push Kang into the police cruiser — the man who had ruined his parents’ lives, finally handcuffed and headed where he was supposed to be.  

You turned around, and caught sight of another familiar face further down the hallway, standing perfectly still despite the crowd of people rushing past around him. 

Lee Minho’s face was turned away from you, his catlike eyes staring at something with the same, unfathomable expression you had come to grow so accustomed to. You remembered how you had once been afraid of the coroner and his strange, standoffish manner, but now, as you watched him from afar, you felt a small pang of sympathy. Minho always carried himself like a ghost, you realised — a shadow lingering in the corners of rooms and corridors, unsure if he was ever wanted.

You quickly excused yourself from Hyunjin and Jeongin and you began to push through the crowd towards the coroner. As you followed his gaze to the holding cell doors, they suddenly swung open, and Jisung stepped out into the hallway. Your steps slowed. The two stood facing each other for several long moments — two childhood friends, two lost children who had found their only sense of family — twisted though it had been — in each other. Minho’s face was hesitant, as if about to turn away, but Jisung had already begun walking up to him. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, Jisung’s back turned to you and Minho awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. 

Then Jisung suddenly closed the gap between the two of them, and pulled Minho into a hug.

You watched as the ex-coroner’s mask finally shattered, the older boy’s face scrunching up like a child’s as he buried his head in Jisung’s shoulder. His entire body shook with silent sobs, as if something in him had finally been let go, a burden he had carried his entire life lifted off his chest. 

Eventually, the guards stepped forward, and Minho pulled away. He looked at Jisung with a small smile on his face — the first genuine smile you had ever seen from him — and you managed to catch the words forming on his lips. 

“Goodbye, Han Jisung.”

“He’ll probably need to go through a trial of his own.” Chan’s voice made you jump in surprise. He had come up beside you while you had been distracted, Felix and Woojin close behind him. He nodded at you by way of greeting before turning back to where Jisung was standing. “The coroner, I mean. But he’ll likely get around five years in prison, more or less.”

You watched as Minho was ushered away into another corridor, Jisung staring at the empty spot where he had once stood. Before you could reply, he turned around, eyes landing on yours — and all of a sudden, you forgot about the security guards flanking every doorway, the law officials and reporters brushing briskly past you. For a moment, it was as if it were only you and Jisung in the hallway, the entire world standing still around the two of you.

Since the last time you had spoken to him had ended with you slapping him in the face, you decided that it was only right for you to take the first step towards him. Slowly, feeling as if you were in a dream, you made your way towards him, Jisung walking the rest of the way to meet you in the middle.  

“Hey, you.” Jisung’s voice was soft, nearly inaudible, not taking his hazel eyes off yours.

You heard Chan chuckle behind you, shaking his head as he threw his arms around Felix and Woojin’s shoulders to steer them away and leave you two in private. The hallways had nearly cleared out, and for the first time in what felt like forever — if you ignored the guards watching a little ways off from the holding cells —  you and Jisung were alone together.

There were a thousand things racing through your mind right now, but you couldn’t seem to find the right words to say. 

“Five years,” Jisung tentatively broke the silence again, and when you looked back at him in confusion, he continued, “in the psychiatric institute. They told me five years minimum, on watch. But I heard...it’s a nice place.”

His lopsided, sheepish smile was as infectious as ever, making one tug at your own lips. When Jisung saw you smile, he relaxed just the tiniest amount.

“Y-you’re going to be okay?” You finally asked, feeling your voice waver. 

Jisung’s gaze softened, nodding. “You saved me.”

“No.” You shook your head firmly. You knew he was talking about Seungmin’s arguments, Jeongin’s witness statements, the article you and Felix had published — but it all might have been for nothing, you thought, mind flashing back to the courtroom, if Jisung hadn’t finally stepped up from his chair and faced his lifelong traumas in the form of one last, truthful testimony. “Han Jisung, you saved yourself.”

He fell silent at that, and you saw his hand instinctively move towards yours for a split second before he quickly stopped himself. Jisung’s arms were floating by his sides, as if wanting to pull you close, but he was holding himself back. He was afraid, you finally realised — afraid that you would push him away, afraid to ever hurt you again. And for some, inexplicable reason, the idea of a rift between the two of you that could never be repaired seemed to hurt even more than a switchblade to the heart.

“For some reason, I’ve been thinking back to our first date,” Jisung cleared his throat, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He probably looked like a nervous schoolboy in front of his first love, Jisung thought, cringing at himself as he looked away from your curious gaze. Well, he added as an afterthought, that wouldn’t be too far off.

You were his first love, after all.  

“I...I didn’t know how you felt that day,” Jisung continued, “or even the days after that, to be honest. I didn’t know if I was doing things right, or—”

“You took my breath away,” you cut him off, the honesty in your own words making your cheeks heat up. You thought back to the diner, to the blond boy who had rendered you speechless with a single heart-shaped smile. As an afterthought, you brought a hand to your rib cage, where a switchblade in that same boy’s hands had once punctured through your lungs, and you deadpanned, “literally.”

Eyebrows raising in disbelief, Jisung gave an incredulous laugh, but his gaze was fixed on the site of your wound. You could still see the deep guilt in his eyes, and, taking a deep breath, you reached for his hand, gingerly placing it where the knife had been. His skin was cool against your fingers, palm rough but familiar. “I’m okay, Jisung. It’s okay. But...why bring that up, all of a sudden?”

“I feel like that now,” he admitted softly, “the same feeling, but with a whole new set of butterflies. Always thinking about you, worrying about you. Wondering how you feel about…”

“Us,” you finished for him, and Jisung nodded slowly. Us. The word hung between the two of you for a long moment, and you took a shaky breath. A part of you wanted to reassure him, to pull him into your arms as if nothing had ever changed. But another part of you pushed that feeling away, knowing deep down that it was too late, that too much had already happened between the two of you to just ignore.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, and you looked down, afraid to see the expression on his face. “I woke up that morning, and you were just...gone. I was so scared for you, I went looking for you...then one thing lead to another, and before we all knew it, the world had turned upside down. I-it might sound selfish, but after all...this, I think I’m going to need some...time.” You finally lifted your eyes up to his face, heart pounding. For a terrifying second, you thought you saw a flash of pain skip across Jisung’s pupils — but before you could be sure, his face broke into a relieved smile. 

“You’ve always been like this, you know?” He sighed, one hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then, contrary to what you had expected, Jisung visibly relaxed. “Worrying about other people before taking care of yourself. You’re not being selfish, okay? Don’t...worry about hurting me anymore.”

You stared at him, the genuine warmth in his words suddenly making your throat close up with stunned tears. Jisung’s eyes, you remembered, had always seemed glazed over and unfocused — as if his mind was trapped somewhere else, far, far away. But as he looked back at you now, you were suddenly hit by how...clear they had become. He was here, perfectly focused on you, eyes filled with what you could only describe as pure adoration.

“I need time, too,” Jisung continued quickly, “I have...so many things I need to fix, to work on, and get better at—”

You shook your head furiously then, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you held onto his wrist. “W-want to love every part of you,” you whispered, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Don’t...don’t hide any parts of yourself, ever again. Okay?”

Jisung watched you for a long moment, brow furrowed as he gingerly wiped your tears, and finally gave a small nod. He cradled your face in his hands, eyes trying to memorise your features as though you were the most beautiful thing he would ever see. To someone else, you thought vaguely, you might have looked insane. A killer’s hands, they might have said, bloodstained hands. But as you gazed up at Jisung, all you saw was a boy who had gone through hell and came back smiling, a boy who loved you more than life itself.

You heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see several security guards making their way towards Jisung. “Mr. Han,” one called gruffly, “it’s time to go.”

The sudden interruption made your mind go blank momentarily as any reasonable words — goodbye, take care — immediately dissolved on your tongue. The guards were getting closer and closer, and Jisung turned back to you, stammering. 

“If you ever want to—to do this whole...love thing again, start over properly, I—I promise I’ll try not to screw it up. I mean, if you’re sure—and only if you’re sure,” he paused then, sounding suddenly flustered, and for a second, he was your tousled-hair, golden boy from the diner again, soft cheeks flushed like windblown peach roses, eyes unsure yet hopeful as a child’s. This was the boy you had fallen in love with, over blueberry pancakes and Chinese takeout, on seemingly endless nights and through the darkest thunderstorms. Ever since you had made that promise, in a children’s playground beneath the setting sun, you knew that somehow, no matter what fate had left in store, you would always find your way back to him. 

Jisung was already being ushered away, the sudden absence of his touch on your skin leaving you feeling empty — but his last words brought a smile to your tearstained face.

“...I’ll be waiting.”

ryu says:

thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone who made it to the end of this series; to everyone who came on this long journey with me, you made it possible and amazing every step of the way. at times, as my first ever series and long-term project, it was both daunting and terrifying, but i am beyond happy and honoured i could experience it with you.

i’ll see you in the epilogue.

[everlarkficexchange]

Everlark Fic Exchange. PROMPTS

Springtime Edition 2021.

These are the prompts we’ve received so far.

Crossed out prompts have already been selected and are being turned into fics!

A huge ‘Thank you’ to everyone who’s taken the time to come up with an idea and send it our way. Your prompts are the heart of the Exchange. Without them, our authors wouldn’t get to write all those beautiful fics. So, please, keep them coming!

You haven’t sent anything yet? Don’t worry, there’s still time. We’ll be receiving prompts until March 7.  Don’t be afraid to inspire us!

Prompts:

Prompt 1: “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you.” (Peeta’s pov of the girls who made impressions that didn’t last and the ones Katniss made that did.) [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 2: “Luck Is What Happens When Preparation Meets Opportunity” - When they are assigned to the same group in middleschool Home Ec class, Peeta seizes the opportunity to pursue Katniss using all his well-honed family bakery and salesmanship skills. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 3: I would like to see some everlark where Finnick walks in on them or Johanna and the there victors make fun of them for what they heard [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 4: Trope: Jealousy Katniss. Modern AU Katniss Everdeen sees his ex boyfriend as the date of one of her coworkers in the company party. She shouldn’t care, because she broke with him, one year ago and still.... when their song plays, against her better judgements, she finds herself dancing with him. [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Prompt 5: Peeta and Katniss were both rescued in the arena and Peeta shares a bunk in D13 with Finnick - Finnick was sleeping and Peeta and Katniss doesn't see him there in the dark hours while they are tangled in lust and desire - either when everlark is doing it and realizes finnick is there or maybe finnicks POV as he is listening silently or even telling Johanna about it the next day - maybe he even stops them mid fuck with a snide sarcastic remark it's up to you [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 6: Modern AU. High School or College Everlark. Make the “booth Kiss” but Everlark! Peeta is the big brother of Katniss best friend, and she never imagined rule number #9 would become a problem. “Rule #9: Relatives of your best friend are off-limits.” [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Prompt 7: Prompt: Butthurt emotionally immature Peeta acts the asshat manwhore around Katniss when, in misinterpreting her, he believes that she thinks he’s not good enough for her. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 8: Age gap. Peeta and Katniss are cast as the romantic leads in a show (tv, film, stage, or even a commercial). Of course they cast someone half his age. Peeta can’t help falling for her anyway. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 9: Canon-Divergent/ In Panem D12 “I waited for you” he said but she dint’t reply. He pressed for an answer he knew he deserved, “under the rain, Katniss. I waited for you, under the rain... why would you do that?” / “I can’t do this anymore, Peeta” / “Bullshit, you can but you just don’t want. I thought you were brave!” he yelled at her looking for any reaction that will give some hope. His tears threatening to run down his face. / She didn’t move, and she didn’t correct her, so he ran away and slammed the door behind him. / “I love you” Katniss said to an empty room. [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Prompt 10: Canon Divergent. When Peeta is rescued from the Capitol and brought to D13, he’s forgotten everything related to Katniss. The Capitol has erased his memories: no Valley Song, no bread, no games, ... nothing. It’s the perfect opportunity for Katniss to let it go, it’s what every tells her... but she still kisses his pearl goodnight. [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Prompt 11: Prim is marrying before starting her dream job as a pediatric surgeon in another district. 30-something Katniss is proud, thrilled, and yet bereft when her entire life was lived for Prim. She’s never even dated. Has Peeta been waiting for this moment to make his move? Or do they meet at the wedding? Or when her friend drags Katniss out of her slump to a party or on a wild vacation after convincing her to quit her jobs and start a new life? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 12: Fae Katniss. She’s been with him his entire life, so Peeta simply accepted that no one else could see her, thought other people had their own Katniss. She’d been called his imaginary friend and later a crutch, a figment of his imagination, a delusion. Dr. A asks him to make a “real” friend, ignore Katniss, try going on a date. But Katniss won’t be ignored. And a jealous Katniss is a force. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 13: Katniss is “just one of the guys” and the only girl in school who’s never been asked for a date by any of these guys. One day she’s “discovered” by a modeling agency and whisked to the Capital. She returns 3-months later with a new look, new found confidence, and cash. How will Peeta deal with the new Katniss and all the attention she gets from everyone?  [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 14: Peeta is 17 when it comes out the only thing his mother ever cooked was the books; he loses his home, his family, his roll in the community. Katniss is 17 when she loses her only reason for living. What brings them together? How do they help each other survive? What forces work against them? When do they accept the other as ally, as friend, as lover? Canon divergent. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 15: 16-yr-old Peeta’s family moves away. 10 years later he returns and buys a foreclosed upon fixer-upper. When does he learn it belonged to Katniss’s family? She still lives there and hides from him, observes him, haunts him, and ruins all his romantic dates when he’s trying to impress women by making them dinner. Does she learn all she needs to know about him and fall in love before he discovers she’s real and living with him and the one who’s been ruining his love life? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 16: canon divergent, arranged marriage. Many, many years after the rebellion, old victor and mockingjay Haymitch living alone finally starts accepting help, hires teenagers Katniss to bring him liquor and pick up packages and Peeta to bring food and do some chores. The old man sees how the 2 could be good for each other, and being strategic, manipulative, and an old romantic fool with regrets over “the one that got away,” he writes a will leaving his huge fortune to Peeta and Katniss on the condition they have a big romantic wedding within 30 days and live in his mansion caring for his Effie Rose Garden (“Creamy buds unfurl to reveal a memorable heart of buttery yellow, dusty apricot and zesty orange. From a cupped bloom, Rose Effie gradually opens to a perfect rosette, showcasing her splendor.”) And geese.  [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 17: AU, supernatural. “The Monkey's Paw" retelling - 3 wishes are granted (to the owner of the monkey's paw, either Katniss or Peeta) but the wishes come with an enormous price for interfering with fate. Will the last wish make things right? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 18: enemies to lovers. Katniss ruins Peeta’s relationship or his shot with a super hot woman. Peeta ruins Katniss’s shot at great job or security with potential fiancé. Other series of embarrassments and cockblocking type events? Will they start sabotaging each other for revenge? Will they have angry sex or will it dawn on them that they’re actually attracted to each other first and make everything awkward before they instead have a sweet vulnerable moment and slow reverent love-making? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 19: based loosely on retelling of biblical Jacob and wives Rachel and Leah in that polygamist Peeta is husband to both Katniss and Prim. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 20: Peeta works in ER or long-term care facility. Katniss called in from next-of-kin list and has to decide whether to pull the plug on Prim. They argue over value and meaning of life, over spiritual beliefs and doubts of afterlife, over everything. What will she do? Will this event in this one room be the only thing they ever share, or will the bond they forge through this emotional event be the beginning for them? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 21: Graduating senior Katniss finally accepts an invitation to one of Madge’s wild, unsupervised parties completely unprepared for what goes on in them. Everyone at the party notices her for different reasons from jealousy over the way she looks to suspicion that she’s going to tell parents about the activities to desire to ruin her good girl reputation. Peeta has never missed a party - how does he react to seeing her there? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 22: Their creative writing assignment is to write a short story or poem and to illustrate it as a sketch, painting, animation, with puppets, anything goes. Classmates Katniss and Peeta base their works on the exact same shared experience! (such as the burnt bread, the dandelion, the meadow at sunset, something else entirely). Reaction? People think one of them copied the idea off the other or that they worked together. But Katniss and Peeta realize that the other one remembers, and it meant something to them, too! Will they finally talk? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 23: social media type craziness enemies to lovers. Katniss and Peeta each host a YouTube channel rapidly growing in popularity, Peeta focuses on baking and Katniss on wild game cooking, a competition for audience share becomes personal after they both bake a meat pie recipe, viewers begin to rabidly support their favorite or to ship them together hard, they start to hate each other without ever meeting, maybe they get forced into interacting for a charity benefit, things get ugly, maybe one or both has significant other who react badly to the shipping hype? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 24: While no one expected Katniss to show up to graduation right after her mother passed away and her sister died, they were surprised that she disappeared completely, and even more stunned when she reappeared years later to claim the town’s only apothecary as the last living family member. What compels her to take it over? Where has she been? What kind of welcome does she get? How does she feel about returning and about town life? What’s been going on with Peeta, is he the baker, is he single, a dad, how’s he been all these years? Will talking with him be awkward? Has he changed? Who has Katniss become? Does she seem different? Will she stay? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 25: Katniss is the new girl at this school, transferred to get a better education. Everything about her is alluring, even more so because she doesn’t see the effect she has. Seems everyone is in a clique. She learns that some people are mean and compete like it’s a fight to the death. How does she survive this new arena, learn to identify friends, and stay true to her values under this pressure to fit in? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 26: MJ canon divergent: Prim was not killed. Gale and Katniss attempted to get back to how they were before the war, but he realized he already lost Katniss' to Peeta - heart, body and soul. Any POV. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 27: Everlark in a Tangled!AU, with Katniss as Eugene, and Peeta as Rapunzel (without the super long hair...he has lovely, curly blond locks that heal when combed along to the song...but boy uses a rope to get people in/out of the tower!) [submitted by @albinokittens300]

Prompt 28: Modern AU: Bestfriends!Everlark took their shot at being lovers. But Katniss introduced Peeta as her "bestfriend" to a guy in a party (she was not used to calling him boyfriend yet). He was furious. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 29: I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lost their first child and it just made their love and relationship even stronger. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 30: Peeta is Katniss’ tantric yoga teacher. She joins the class on a dare from Johanna and is committed to attending for 3 months. She hates it...at first. Smut happens. [submitted by @mrspeetamellark]

Prompt 31: Peeta Mellark, breakout star and heartthrob has just been cast in the newest highly anticipated fantasy epic (think like Jon Snow in GoT....or whatever because this is just a prompt) His character is highly skilled with a sword and absolutely lethal with a bow. Him and the rest of the cast have to do three months of intensive training prior to production. How will that go with him having a massive crush on Katniss Everdeen, weapons expert and fight choreographer? [submitted by @nightlock-89]

Prompt 32: Katniss Everdeen, famous musician hates posing for photoshoots whether it's for an album or a magazine with the exception of celebrity photographer Peeta Mellark who seems to always know the way to get the best shots. [submitted by @nightlock-89​]

Prompt 33: Based off the movie The Vow except it's Peeta who wakes up to find out he's married to his childhood crush Katniss Everdeen with no knowledge of them ever even dating. [submitted by @nightlock-89​​]

Prompt 34: Modern AU where a forty year old Katniss has shut herself off from the world from fear of getting hurt. After her sister dies she realizes how isolated she is and now wants to open herself up to love, but hasn’t a clue where to begin. Everlark HEA - the details of how they meet and what Peeta’s been up to are entirely up to you. :) [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 35: Katniss and Peeta tet to have a date night but the babysitter calls for some "disaster" at home (a burst pipe or something, nothing serious). [submitted by @booksrockmyface]

Prompt 36: Katniss and Peeta are both single parents. They meet while chaperoning a field trip. The rest is up to you! [submitted by @mrspeetamellark]

Prompt 37: Forbidden romance AU: Katniss is the school principal. Peeta is a new teacher fresh out of college. Age!gap Everlark. Smut happens. [submitted by @mrspeetamellark]

Prompt 38: Both Katniss and Peeta are rescued from the arena, and Peeta’s entire family makes it safely to D13. How does everyone get along? (Perhaps the older Mellark brothers have a “chat” with Gale? Or the Hawthornes, Mellarks and Everdeens meet up for the first time at dinner and a fight breaks out? Does anyone have anything to say about the beach kiss?? Prim? Rye? Gale? Will Katniss stick by Peeta or avoid meeting the expectations she set with that beach kiss and declaration of “I need you”?) [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 39: Katniss has been bumping into the same stranger (Peeta) for months. When they get stuck in an unfortunate situation together, she decides to be the first to say hello. [submitted by @eiramrelyat]

Prompt 40: Katniss is finally, after a long fight with infertility, expecting their second baby. She plans to share this news with Peeta in a big way. Just some sweet, happy Everlark excited for their second toastbaby! [submitted by @albinokittens300]

Prompt 41: based on high school musical. katniss as gabriella, the smart, great singer and shy girl who starts a friendship w the football star player of the school peeta mellark after singing together at a new year's day's party. could be based on the events of one or all three movies. just some light, fluff high school romance and a very hea. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 42: Group of friends. Economic disaster, no jobs; eventually in desperation someone in the group suggests making a porno for $, the idea takes off, as they work on a script and put out ideas, alot becomes clear, like who has kinks, who has tried a lot, and that one is an inexperienced virgin. Does the writing experience have consequences to the group dynamic, will they actually film and sell it, will they stay friends? Are any couples or siblings part of the group? Are secrets revealed through brainstorming? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 43: After getting her to agree to be his girlfriend, Gale calls Katniss frigid for not being ready for more than handholding and chaste kisses. In effort thaw her faster, he makes an appointment with a team of sex experts, Mellark, Mason, and Undersee (offering MD diagnostics, individual and couple counseling, sex surrogacy help). The professional team breaks under strain of dealing with jackass Gale. Katniss breaks all ties with him and learns in working with the team that she wants sex and just how she likes it. (Is it M/F, F/F, 3-way...) [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 44: First-date Everlark. How do they know each other? Who asked who? How do they prepare? Where do they go? How old are they? Does the first date end with a kiss? Pancakes? Request for another? Is it perfect or a disaster so epic they actually have fun and agree to a second first-date? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 45: Peeta works security (peacekeeper? police?), Katniss is a protester (rebellion? BLM?) or a civilian (rebel?) or a local translator in her village. Do they know each other at all? Work together? Fight on opposite sides or meet at common ground? What threatens them? Are their feelings real? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 46: They really do toast privately in CF - katniss wearing an orange dress for peeta and peeta making cheese buns for katniss. They wanted something their own. No one knows about it and there’s no baby (as far they know) but how would this change their relationship? How they make their decisions? Would anyone actually believe they’re married when she gets to district 13? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 47: Katniss and peeta have a secret semi-relationship prior to the 74th games resulting in a child. Katniss’ family hides it was her pregnancy and pretends its mrs everdeens - assuming katniss went to cray or something. What happens when both katniss and peeta are reaped? Will peeta learn of his child? Will anything change during the games? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 48: Mrs. Mellark survived the bombing of district 12 because she was squatting at Peeta’s house. How does this event change her and how does this effect Everlark? (Does this count as an eligible prompt? I just think it would be a great dynamic!) [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 49: Age gap. Peeta is a kid in love, driven to enlist, returns as amputee, expects no woman will have him, let alone Katniss. She has become a skilled healer, comes to care for him. He makes her heart full again, she renews him. Age becomes irrelevant. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 50: Fae Peeta or some other supernatural. Mellarks are secretly fae and Peeta meets his mate *Katniss* on the first day of school. katniss is human and it’s dangerous for them to interact when they are so young still. Peeta is forbidden to interact with her until the 74th games - where he will do everything he can to save her. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 51: Katniss and Peeta unknowingly have super powers. Anything beyond regular human is rare or unheard of in Panem. For some reason it manifests in both of them and comes out as they both fight to protect each other’s lives in the games. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 52: An AU based on Casper The movie from 1995 (just rewatched this movie, it gaves me so much EverLark vibes^^). Katniss comes to live in an old house alone or with family. Peeta is a ghost staying in this house for who knows how long. He doesn't remember much of his living life. The house is full of secrets. They try to discover the story of Peeta and of course they fell in love ! How can it be a happy ending ? 😉 [submitted by @dreamingreaderuniverse]

Prompt 53: Peeta has a harder time after the 74th games then anyone realizes. PTSD, the virtual abandonment of his family, and Katniss’ lack of interest in him, he’s in a bad place. He puts up a front when around Katniss and Haymitch, but things come to head when he gets an anxiety/panic attack while on the victory tour. Katniss is there for him. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 54: Madge has hosted “Beach Week!” ever since her family acquired the multi-dwelling retreat years ago. Katniss never had the $ to go, but with Madge relocating to Paris, Katniss lets Madge cover her share of the expenses with the promise to make it the best! week! ever! Katniss assumes Madge means taking a turn at karaoke or *gulp* going skinny dipping by moonlight. She learns that Madge and her many guests shed all inhibitions, especially with this being their last chance to go wild. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 55: Arriving in D13, it’s quickly discovered that Peeta will never be the same. Mixed with a failed high jacking, and a brutal beating, Peeta’s brain will never be the same. He’s childlike and mostly nonverbal, but Katniss still sees her Boy with Bread and will protect him at all costs.[submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 56: Peeta wasn’t highjacked in MJ. He was tortured, but not set against Katniss. After Peeta’s warning to D13 he receives the punishment for treason: he becomes an avox. [submitted by @kiinghanalister]

Prompt 57: Girl Scout Cookies come to D12: real world trackerjacker venom to a proud 4th generation baker. Is his own daughter a new scout? Is he asked to lead the fundraiser? Does troop leader Katniss come by with her scouts asking to set up a sales table in front of Mellark Bakery? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 58: Katniss’s grandchild is full of questions: why does grandpa walk funny? why is your yard have only dandelions when everybody else only has grass? why can’t I pick the prim roses - they’re yellow, too ... did you know I could eat this many cheesebuns? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 59: Katniss dad is a victor he won his hunger games and is a mentor. Peeta is reaped for the games and Katniss begs her dad to help him win the games. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 60: Quote prompt: I can see in his eyes what I've done is unforgivable ... "Who can't lie, Peeta?" (Maybe Katniss and Mrs Mellark manipulate situation to get what they think is best for Peeta, sacrificing relationship and destroying trust? Does he leave for years? Does she ever apologize enough to renew a friendship? Was he forced to live a different life than what he wanted? Or does he live his dream life but without Katniss? Is he happily married with kids when she sees him a few years later? Or is he an old bitter man who never loved or trusted again?) [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 61: The Hunger Games is real - you can go home with your winnings to live HEA. Katniss and Peeta celebrate with sex. Unfortunately, the beauty treatment chemicals stimulate the gonads, and Katniss finds she’s carrying not just one Mellark baby but eight. They’ll need more $. Haymitch suggests a reality tv show. Everyone must play a roll to earn a salary - Mrs Mellark plays the loving grandma (off camera, she’s still a mean bitch), who else will take on a tv persona? They jam in many ridiculous product placements. They slap their logo onto anything they can sell to capitolites. How far will they go to keep those baby butts in clean diapers? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 62: Katniss is the football team’s new kicker and the league’s first and only female player. It’s their first road trip. She’d heard stories about what goes on from head cheerleader Madge and piccolo player Delly. Katniss deals with locker room issues, getting respect she earned for her skill, handling the culture of drinking and casual sex, dealing with possessive girls jealous of her time with the guys or others influencing her to change her look or her attitude, finding what makes her happy and what is real. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 63: Enemies to lovers; Katniss and Peeta are rival business owners (located right next door to each other). A blackout during a snowstorm pushes them together and they are forced to face their true feelings. Do that really "hate" each other, or is their intense desire for one another manifesting itself in other ways? Before the night is over, they find themselves locked in the other's arms. [submitted by @ameliaodair]

Prompt 64: Katniss and Peeta are in a scary car accident - bring on the angst! With happy ending of course :) [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 65: 74th games - Katniss is being cornered by a male tribute (whoever you want) early on in the games. She doesn’t have her bow and he’s larger and stronger. He quickly over powers her but he’s not looking to kill her - he has more nefarious ideas. Peeta finds them and doesn’t hesitate to tackle the tribute off of Katniss and kills him in rage. Katniss doesn’t leave Peeta’s side after this moment. How does this change Katniss and the rest of the books? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 66: A story told in pictures. Like, Instagram of their stuff only, as Katniss and Peeta get in to college, change roommates, suffer loss, move on, eventually see their stuff together when they cohabitate, or maybe start there and go through drama of breakup until find way back together. (Like the supposition that your garden looks overgrown is a clue that your husband is having an affair type of idea). [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 67: 🌈❤️🦋Katniss and Peeta are the cutest couple!🌸❤️🦄Everbody hates them. Everyone tries to break them up, for their own reason, using their own methods. Damn it, it only makes their love stronger! It ends in some triumph, like celebration of their golden anniversary or other great fortune. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 68: Katniss always wanted to be a mother, she just never wanted to admit it with the Games hanging over everyone’s heads. So when the war is over and everything is real for Katniss and Peeta, she’s wants to start a family with Peeta. Only- Peeta has never wanted kids. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 69: It’s the start of the holiday shopping season. The Hunger Games Victors’ big public event is attending the grand opening of a huge new toy store where they are presented with hottest must-have new toys: action figures of themselves. Afterwards, they start playing with their dolls. Johanna’s is quickly naked. Is Finnick’s anatomically correct? Anyone jealous of Katniss’s doll coming with the Cinna Collection accessories? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 70: Everlark AU Where the Heart Is (movie) - heavily pregnant Katniss is abandoned at a Walmart in the middle of nowhere by her baby daddy. Homeless and with nowhere to go, Katniss secretly bunks at Walmart each day. One early morning she goes into labor and is discovered by the blue eyed and kind employee Peeta who immediately jumps in to help. Admitting to having no one or place to go to Nurse Effie, Katniss finds herself and her baby the reluctant charge of Haymitch Abernathy. [submitted by @kiinghanalister]

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 72: Post MJ Everlark Parallel to the CF Scene that takes place after the jabberjay hour. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 73: Katniss looses a baby before they have Toastbaby one [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 74: Con man Peeta has an elaborate operation fleecing money out of unsuspecting wealthy victims. Why does he do it? Is it a Robin Hood type operation to redistribute money to the underprivileged and marginalized people? Or is it more selfishly oriented? He can’t do it alone and hires Katniss as a “research assistant.” Authors choice as to what exactly her role is. Does she help select the victims? The recipients of the funds? Or is she involved in planning and executing the cons? Does she help him discover the errors of his ways if he’s doing it for himself? Whatever the plan is, falling in love is not part of it and when you lose focus of the plan, bad things happen. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 75: Black swan style AU with Peeta as Odette and/or Odelle. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 76: Vignettes from a mother’s eye. Everlark through the eyes of Mrs Everdeen, Mrs Mellark, Mrs Hawthorne. One of them or any combination of the three. Canon compliant or any AU. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 77: Married Everlark are coworkers and their marriage is on the rocks. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms. Divorce looks inevitable. On a business trip, there is *dramatic pause* only one bed. Does the forced closeness lead them to really talk for the first time in months or does it drive them further apart? Smut not required. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 78: Everlark in their twilight years. What do their relationships with the toastbabies look like? Are there grandkids? [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 79: This holiday is dumb, Katniss says every year even as Peeta goes all out with the traditions, decorations, themed baked goods, cajoling Katniss to partake in activities. Now there’s a toastbaby on the way and for some reason, Peeta doesn’t do any of the things he usually does for the holiday. How does Katniss react? Relieved? Or does she realize she actually loves his zeal and tries to spark the spirit back into him? Writer picks the holiday and level of cheesy fluff. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 80: How does that work? They were roommates and best friends. When they meet a couple who has a common law marriage, Everlark starts to wonder if it applies to them too. Go angsty or fluffy or crazy, wherever the muse takes you. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 81: Shakespearean style AU in the vein of Still Star Crossed. Katniss and Peeta were not the famed star crossed lovers. Someone else was. But while the deaths of their best friends are still fresh, Katniss and Peeta find themselves in an arranged marriage to hopefully heal the rift. Tell me their story. Any time period or setting welcome. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 82: Everlark + Taylor Swift. I'll make it easy. Any song, write a fic based on it. Are Katniss or Peeta the songwriter, or the ones living out the ending? [submitted by @archersandsunsets]

Prompt 83: Katniss gets stung by tracker jackers post mj, Peeta take care of his wife [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 84: Elementary School - the beginning of having a “girlfriend/boyfriend” - Katniss’s best friends (Maggie and Gale) are the “it couple”. She really doesn’t care - she can sit with her friend Jo at lunch and hangs out on the monkey bars alone. Until a new boy comes to school! [submitted by @winegirl65]

Prompt 85: Arranged Marriage!Everlark. (Not medieval necessarily but ‘old time’ setting) Peeta and Katniss have been betrothed since they were children, but have only seen each other through portraits/paintings. Both grow resentful of their arranged marriage, and act up against it; K being as wild and unladylike as possible: hunting, wearing trousers, riding bareback; P being a rake, silver tongue con artist, etc. A month before their wedding, they meet at a The Hub (black market/pub/whatever disresputable place you want it to be) and bet at arm wrestling against each other. Is it love at first sight? Do they armwrestle each other? Do they recognize one another? Will there be smut because ‘hey, we’ll be marry in a month anyway’? Writers choice! [submitted by @alliswell21]

Prompt 86: Katniss is married to Gale, but they have an open marriage. Gale sleeps around and has other girlfriends, but Katniss is only intimide with her best friend, Peeta - extra brownie points if Everlark have toast babies or Kat leaves Gale for Peeta. Thank you! [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 87: Katniss is desperate for a job. She applies for a job with the following description, even though she isn’t fully qualified: We are looking to hire a Data Analyst to join our data team. You will take responsibility for managing our master data set, developing reports, and troubleshooting data issues. To do well in this role you need a very fine eye for detail, experience as a data analyst, and a deep understanding of the popular data analysis tools and databases.Peeta’s just doing his friend a favor, applying for a job he’s definitely not qualified for in order to keep an eye on his friend’s crazy uncle.What happens when Katniss and Peeta are the only applicants for the job of data analyst to Supervillain Haymitch? Will they find a way to both get what they need? Do they stick to the job description or discover that there’s much more to the phrase “Others duties as assigned”? What about Haymitch? His nefarious plans always go awry, and actually don’t seem all that evil, but perhaps with the help of his two questionable new data analysts, he can finally expose two-faced Superhero Coin for the dastardly villain she is. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 88: Peeta designs “toys” for his adult shop. He hires Katniss to test his products, she has to fill a questionnaire for feed back or something of the sort. One day she comes in complaining that one of the toys doesn’t work; Peeta thinks she’s not using it properly, so he sits in to watch her try it once more... “to take notes”. She is indeed using it wrong, so he steps in to show her the correct way. [submitted by @alliswell21]

Prompt 89: If Prim and Peeta are never reaped, and Mrs Mellark and Prim die after the 75th Games, and widower Mr Mellark marries widow Mrs Everdeen, what would happen to Katniss? We know from the book that her mom would leave her. And, what would Peeta do? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 90: The Olympic committee is selling sponsorships and heavily advertising the upcoming games. The most photogenic of each sport is asked to pose for pics and attend functions, film commercial together, do some interviews. What sports represented by Katniss, Peeta, others? Required to look cozy? Animosity behind those smiles? Competitiveness? Banter? Any secrets? Do they have a “breakfast club” ending? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 91: Katniss senses something is amiss before the bakery door opens: chaos as Mr. Mellark incapacitated (throws out back?) on one of their busiest days! Mrs M never acknowledged K before, but they desperately need kitchen help, now! And K is more than capable of working hard. A bargain is struck to clean up and follow all other directions thrown at her in exchange for bread and coin. Hard negotiations? Peeta’s reaction? Is it Katniss and all 3 boys in the back? Do the older 2 know her? Any talking? How does the long day go? Does it end well for Peeta? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 92: Years later, the blocked mine shaft is finally cleared, and the bodies are recovered. Will recovery of her father’s remains help Katniss or make things worse? Will the community do anything to honor the men? Will the Everdeens get any personal effects, did he leave a message for Katniss? Will there be evidence that leads to prosecution and $ settlement? Will Peeta, Gale, community, mom, Prim be there to support K? Who can she talk to? Is she changed? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 93: Mr Hawthorne doesn’t die in the mine explosion. It’s he who Katniss meets in the woods and becomes her hunting partner, and eventually a father figure when he starts offering advice on what to do once she graduates. He sees how the baker’s son acts, but he has 3 sons who need strong, hard-working and skilled wives, and he saw Mrs E leave town life behind. Peeta never sees K with Gale - what impact does that have on him? Does Mr H speak of rebellion or does he stay quiet on the subject? Does Katniss see the Hawthorns happily married and modify views on marriage if not on raising a family? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 94: Chris Pratt was a “kick ass” door to door coupon salesman. That could be Peeta! Vacuum cleaner sales, and he has to come in for a demonstration! He’s charming, but does his pitch earn him a sale? Does his cleaner choke on all the cat hair from buttercup? Does the powerful unit suck up something of value? Is it even her house or is she house sitting and wasting his time? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 95: Peeta is also rescued or ah least when he is saved from the capitol he isn’t hijacked which leads to katniss and peeta finally dating - Johanna and finnick still make fun of the happy couple about being so “pure” and one day they have enough - either they purposely do the deed loudly or something in front of them or whatever it is, make it steamy! Or.......peeta exxagerates and tells finnick and Johanna what they have done together in an attempt to prove how unpure they are and Katniss overhears and finally does all the things peeta was explaining [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 96: The Games ended with the rebellion years ago, but now you can “experience all the excitement for yourself at Disney’s newest theme park The Hunger Games! Take a wild train ride into a real replica arena! Experience the thrill of virtually racing to the 3-D weapons pile then trade your kill count tickets in for arcade prizes! Flex your muscles swinging real replica axes and swords! Try on costumes, or enjoy a spa day at Beauty Base Zero! Enjoy an all-you-can-eat meal at The Cornucopia Buffet!” So, who wants to go? Or, who works there? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 97: Everlark cuddling. That’s it. That’s the prompt. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 98: Toned, nubile, athletic Katniss and Peeta are hired as stunt and body doubles for a couple of famous film actors who have been liberally airbrushed for the promo pics. The $ is good. No one can know. A lot of nudity. No dialogue, just well timed grunts and groans. One talks a lot when nervous between takes. Some embarrassing moments. Friendship and trust built over time. When it’s over, can they walk away? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 99: I want a smutty filled fanfic in d13 if Peeta wasnt hijacked and or captured. Are they in a relationship? How does this change Katniss’ relationship with Gale? What does Johanna think of it all? Does Finnick make fun of them but slap Peeta on the back? Does Mrs. Everdeen have an awkward conversation with Katniss about birth control? Does anyone overhear or walk in? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 100: Can be modern canon compliant divergent or whatever but with Johanna and Finnick and or Haymitch talking about Everlark and what they have or haven’t done yet. They all make a bet to see who is right and how far the star crossed lovers have taken there physical and emotional relationship. Extra points if Finnick knowingly smiles at Peeta or Everlark tells them who is right. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 101: Artist Peeta’s niche: option 1: pets - portraits dressed in period costumes with or without owner, or perfectly painted on sugar cookie, other medium? Does Prim want it, or does Katniss surprise gift it to Prim? Buttercup or Lady? In studio or outdoors? Is K indulgent or exasperated? option 2: uptight Katniss discovers that Prim had erotic boudoir photos taken of herself, and neither she nor photographer Peeta told her! She would have stopped Prim. Who is Peeta to katniss? Is Peeta insulted by what she spews out about his job and art? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 102: Peeta and Katniss are both made to wait outside the principals office. One of them in trouble for getting into a fight. The other ? Conversation started by the one not seething. As the hour drags on, they discover common ground and attraction. Suddenly, principal opens office door, and the moment is gone. Do they find way to each other at school? Or in big high school, do they happen to see each other years later under very different circumstances? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Prompt 103: Nonhijacked Peeta in d13 needs advice from Finnick about well, you know, how to fuck a girl. And well Katniss goes to Johanna or Annie for the same thing. Will Finnick and Johanna and or Annie tell each other about Katniss and Peeta asking advice? Will they purposely sabotage Everlark by giving them funny bad advice? Will they purposely and awkwardly talk about it at lunch with Gale there? Up to you but make it funny and hot [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 104: Everlark before the quell starts to get intimate, when it dawns on them that Katniss doesn’t want to get pregnant and frankly, either does Peeta however this is something they want to experience. So what do they do? Ask Panem’s biggest heartthrob Finnick for some condoms. Hopefully when the victors have training the next day at lunch, Finnick hasn’t told anyone. Hopefully....😏 [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 105: Katniss is lucky enough to be upgraded to First Class on a flight home to visit her mother and younger sister. Little does she know that onboard is one of Panem’s most important, and consequently, most handsome men, and he takes a shining to her. [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 106: Peeta is a pearl diver/diver/oceanographer. He’s been looking for the perfect way to propose to his longtime girlfriend, Katniss, and thinks he’s found it when he discovers a rare pearl under the sea. The problem is, Katniss isn’t the only one who appreciates his find. [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 107: When her boyfriend cheats, Katniss gets her revenge by making a pass at her boyfriend’s greatest enemy. She only intended to flirt with him to piss off her cheating ex, but things spiral out of control, and they wind up in a dangerously passionate entanglement. [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 108: Everlark fall for one another over a blood transfusion. It happens not once, but twice. His blood runs through her veins, and now hers runs through his. What are the odds they would save each other’s lives? [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 109: Haymitch as a matchmaker. Nuff’ said. His matches are always disasters, but one time, he gets it exactly right when he sets up his neighbors, a stoic girl with a braid and a lonely, blond baker boy. [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 110: A group of bachelorettes/bridesmaids kidnap groom-to-be, Peeta Mellark, in order to convince him that he's marrying the wrong woman, and that he should, in fact, be with their friend and fellow bridesmaid, Katniss Everdeen. [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 111: Peeta is a struggling post-graduate art major. He finally finds a place he can afford because the landlord cuts him some slack on the rent. One day, his landlord becomes ill/injured and his daughter/niece takes over. Peeta's instantly smitten with her, but she insists on the full rent. Will Peeta find a way to pay his sexy landlord? Can he also win her heart? [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 112: Katniss's family owns a Mexican restaurant. Peeta and his friends come in, and he's immediately captivated by her. He keeps coming back, hoping to win her over, but he makes the mistake of inadvertently insulting her/her family. Can he make amends? Will she ever go out with him? [submitted by @mandelion82]

Prompt 113: she’s the man au featuring katniss and gale as the twins, peeta as duke, and madge as Olivia. [submitted by @thegirlwhowokethedreamer]

Prompt 114: Inspired by THIS picture I found - finnick understands Peeta and katniss' love for one another in his point of view [submitted by @everlark-always]

Prompt 115: Post mockingjay, everlark picnic in the meadow, with child or without whatever you feel I just want happy thriving everlark post war [submitted by @everlark-always]

Prompt 116: Hades Peeta and Persephone Katniss fanfic. Maybe Katniss is being abused or needs a reason to leave Olympus and Peeta provides that for her or Peeta just takes her. Peeta may bit of a douche or even dark!Peeta but the two warm up to each other eventually. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 117: Dark!Peeta fanfic where he is a stalker, kidnapper, or serial killer. But he does all of these things because it’s his way of protecting Katniss and ensuring they will be together. Katniss finds out in the end and chaos ensues [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 118: Under the Tuscan Sun AU: Reeling from the breakdown of her marriage due to her partner's infidelity, and struggling to follow up a successful book release, Katniss's friends book her a trip on a bus tour through Tuscany, Italy, to try and help her move on. When she accidentally ends up buying a villa in the Tuscan countryside, she finds not only new inspiration but a new chance at love in the form of her blonde-haired contractor, Peeta Mellark. [submitted by @thelettersfromnoone]

Prompt 119: what if Katniss and Peeta didn't get interrupted by finnick that night on the beach in the quell? Would they have kept going? Would the outcome of the night change since that new relationship step where they absolutely would have refused to be seperated? [submitted by @everlark-always]

Prompt 120: In the blast in THG, Katniss loses hearing in BOTH ears - she's miraculously able to hear the announcement of the 2 tributes from the same district (maybe it's just super muffled??) how does katniss handle the rest of the games without her hearing? how is peeta able to communicate with her? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 121: Secret lovers!Everlark, aged 20s: They've been a group of friends with Gale and Finnick. Katniss has always been "one of the boys" and seemed uninterested with boys... until Peeta and she had this drunken confession night and they've been hiding kisses and touches since. Summer in a few weeks, they want to go officially together to their annual beach trip, and they start planning how to break it to their friends gently... especially to Gale whom she turned down in college. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 122: a day in the bakery with Peeta and Katniss ... could be modern or in Panem ... I’ve just been watching a lot of Korean cafe videos and I need detailed descriptions of cake and cute couple moments 🍰 [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

Prompt 123: wholesome late 1700s Austen-esque romance with local country pastor Peeta (a la Henry Tilney) and his pretty, windswept parishioner, Miss Katniss Everdeen (a la any Austen heroine) with the angelic singing voice and dandelion trimmed bonnet [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

Prompt 124: The war is over, Peeta has been home for 6 months and things have been gradually better between him and Katniss. Just as Katniss starts to realize how much she needs Peeta things begin to fall apart and he is quick regressing into the tortured Capitol mutt. The Doctors say there is no hope. Katniss convinces Beetee to break into Peeta's medical files and discovers things about Peeta's mother noone knew, especially Peeta. Can this new information be the key to bringing her Peeta back or will it destroy both of them. [submitted by @emazura]

Prompt 125: Peeta Mellark has just started school with a disability (physical, metal, etc.). How will his best friend, Katniss Everdeen, help him through the year and navigate bullies? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 126: The Wedding Year AU. K & P meet and start dating. Early on, they learn that between the both of them they're invited to a lot of weddings (for friends, coworkers, family, whoever), even in the wedding party for some. They decide which ones they'll attend, and these weddings are spread throughout the year. The thing is K has commitment issues and isn't sure if she's even the marrying type, so how does this year of weddings play out for her and P? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 127: AU - Peeta is has two older brothers, a loving but weak father, and an abusive mother. How can the older boys comfort five year old Peeta after his mother’s attacks? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 128: broken katniss post mockingjay - super depressed about everything and the weight of what she went through is finally sinking in with no war to distract her. Peeta comes back and takes care of Katniss - either Peeta Katniss or even Haymitch’s points of view [submitted by @everlark-always]

Prompt 129: AU Inspired by the Greek and Roman mythologies, where the Games take place in an amphitheater/arena turned into a labyrinth. How often do the games occur? Are there mythological beasts/mutts? How do Katniss and Peeta survive? Or do they not? What happens after they leave the arena? [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt 130: Sheep herder Peeta and quiet seamstress Katniss. That’s it. That’s the prompt. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 131: okay well somebody’s gotta do the inevitable Everlark/WandaVision crossover ... but it’s gotta end happy or I’m gonna be very upset [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]

Prompt 132: Katniss and Peeta are musicians writing songs about one another unbeknownst to the other. Specifically Taylor Swift's cover of Untouchable, Katniss writes about Peeta. Peeta writes Jump then Fall (maybe change it up a little) about Katniss. Please & thank you! [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 133: The victory tour is live-streamed and mandatory viewing for each district. What no one expected however, was for Snow to know Peeta was the words behind Katniss - the one he couldn’t control. When peeta starts talking about rue and thresh in D11, snow issues the command and everyone is shocked when a bang rings out and a red spot starts rapidly spreading on Peeta’s chest. Reactions and the aftermath! [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 134: Katniss and Peeta in an FLR marriage, Peeta is bisexual and so Katniss has a lot of boyfriends like Cinna, Thresh, Gale, Finnick with whom they have sexy times. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 135: Princess Katniss Everdeen was forced to marry King Snow's son Cato, to ensure that the people in her kingdom didn’t die due to famine. Too bad she falls in love with Cato's personal sex slave, Peeta Mellark. But his time in the royal harem and that with the prince has made him too broken to even consider about love. Will Katniss be able to soothe his bettered soul? What happens when the king finds out? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 136: Katniss Everdeen never had a student as unruly as Peeta Mellark. She wants to spank the hell out of him. What happens when he finally submits himself to his hot and sexy bio teacher? [submitted by @everlurked]

Prompt 137: Millionaire Katniss Everdeen is a porn film maker. Too bad she has to hire, watch and edit two of the sexist man on earth Peeta Mellark and Finnick Odair having sex when she finds out that she might be having a huge crush on Peeta. But she thinks that they are in a relationship. Will she take a chance when Peeta tells her that he is bi and actually Finnick and him are friends, comfortable with each other to do such intimate things for money and not so subtly hints that he likes her too? [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 138: Katniss realizes her feelings for Peeta on the train back and is honest with herself and Peeta about how real it was for her - the beginning of a real relationship after the games [submitted by @everlark-always]

Prompt 139: Young Katniss discovers a wolf cub caught in one of her traps while hunting with her father. They bring him home to heal and Katniss falls in love with his gorgeous blue eyes. He joins the family and becomes Katniss’ new hunting partner. As he grows, Katniss discovers the orphaned wolf’s secret. Werewolf!PeetaBonus: Jealous Gale (As friend? Hunting partner? Your choice) [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 140: The west side of the village is surrounded by a vast forest that no one dares to enter. There’s a legend that states anyone who enters will die in the hands of the wolf that can’t turn back into a man. Katniss doesn’t believe this but when she reads a book, the curiosity gets to her and the only one that she could trust is the drunk man of the town. Witness her encounters this cursed being and how everything in this town isn’t what it seems. #werewolves #magic [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 141: Okay. So texting is wonderful, isn’t it? Katniss is thrilled that she can talk to people without actually talking, especially across the room when that one person you want to talk to is in a different conversation/group than you are. (This can just be fluffy, but as an added bonus, maybe it’s also a way for someone to get *flirty* - or more - with their convo, making her blush like crazy, and the people in her group wanna know what’s going on, why are you blushing..... Or even reversed where Peeta ends up blushing at something she sent. Though he would probably just grin and look up at her unabashedly, which she chided him for later because it’s a dead giveaway. OR! Katniss receives an unwanted text/set of texts from someone - named or not idc - and someone like Finnick or Jo, Gale, maybe Prim, or even Peeta - beast mode activated - sees it over her shoulder and loses their shit and starts taking over the conversation in a ridiculous and hilarious way, unbeknownst to the person responding, and to Katniss’ chagrin. Maybe even as a group, and Katniss just cannot get her phone out of their hands. (I feel like Haymitch, Cinna, and Effie would add their hilarious two cents here and there but also I have no idea how that would work. Idk. This is also known as “The prompt for something I want to write but I don’t write sexy because I’m an awkward turtle but I still want to read this”. You know. Thank you in advance to anyone who read this and/or takes it on.) [submitted by @everybirdfellsilent]

Prompt 142: An Eon ago, the powerful seer got sent a prophecy that shook the world where it stood. "The joining of the purest soulmate will bring the gift that will change the world." (Can be changed to sound so much better)Throughout the years, the prophecy has been misconstrued and manipulated to their owe benefit. Is Katniss the child, the prophecy warned or is there more to that? #Magic #Soulmates [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 143: Katniss moves into a new town for her new job when she catches the eye of the VP of the bicker gang. How long can she resist him and can she truly fit into his life? #HotPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 145: She moves in with her aunt and uncle when her parents dies in a small town. After suffering through trama, Katniss slowly starts to get better with the help of her family (aunt, uncle, cousin) and the Mellark brothers. But when things starts happening to her and the people around her, it’s revealed that she and almost everyone in the towns are apart of the werewolf pack and that one of the Mellark brothers is her mate. #werewolves [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 146: Katniss and Peeta Mellark as the "Biggest Family of District 12!" #allthetoastbabies [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 147: An Everlark fic inspired by e.e. cummings poem I Carry Your Heart [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 148: When a wolf pup runs towards Katniss while in the forest calling her Mama, she doesn't know where they came from and how can she understand them? Is she going crazy? Who's the father? (Its the hot hunk that she meets a day later) #werewolves #toastpups [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 149: An Everlark fic based on the real life story of a kitty becoming best friends with a neighbor (I will post the video link in the comments of the answered ask). Is Peeta depressed? PTSD? Grieving? (Please no divorced/widow/single dad storyline though unless it's like adoption). How does Katniss ultimately bond with Peeta and be a healing light for him in addition to Buttercup? Tension tension tension. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 150: Katniss + Peeta idiots to lovers, modern au best friends secretly pining for one another. Ever the dynamic duo and short on cash, they decide to participate in a couples study. Who's the therapist? (Haymitch?) At what point does the therapist assigned to them realize they aren't even together? And does the therapist realize one or both is in love with the other? Big bonus points for a "It's you. It's always been you." moment. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 151: Pandemic!Everlark. It's their first zoom date and stressed out, overworked Katniss FALLS ASLEEP (maybe they were watching a show together?) Peeta stays on the line and draws her. What happens after Katniss wakes up to a sheepish Peeta with a breathtaking portrait of her? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 152: Enemies to lovers modern au. Katniss emails her group of new hires the training guide to review before they start on Monday. Monday morning just before she's set to meet with the group of trainees Katniss finds an email from new hire Peeta Mellark, attached is the training guide. Completely edited and rewritten. Lots of fuming in their first meeting and total tit for tat hijinks ensue. Torture us with the rivalry please. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 153: Best friends!Everlark who have always been in love with one another. Katniss is in a pretty serious accident, of course Peeta visits her every single day. He notices that every time he enters the room her heart monitor beeps due to elevated heart rate. He notices and finally mentions to a mutual friend (Madge? Finnick?) how it's sweet that she gets excited to see her friends, said friend rolls eyes and is like uh yeah ok "friend". Peeta's all what? Cue suspicion so next time he visits her he takes it a step further and gives little touches (brushes her hair back, strokes her cheek, grazes her arm? LET IT BURN) to see what happens. Sure enough her HR skyrockets. Tell us all the sweet and suspenseful details :))) [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and "rescue" him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 155: Just a really sweet meet cute of skateboarder!Peeta wiping out the first time he sees Katniss. Bonus points for her being a skater too.[submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 156: Post MJ: Toastbabys perspective from in the womb throughout pregnancy. Bonus points for post birth moments. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 157: Miscommunication. Katniss texts Peeta that she needs some 🥖. Peeta thinks the breadstick is a euphemism of her asking him for sex. How do things play out? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 158: CF AU: Peeta gets drunk with Haymitch after the quell announcement. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 159: High school au with popular girl, valedictorian, great at sport and then there is Peeta Mellark shy, awkward, sweet but not so good in academics with a huge crush on Katniss. Will she even look at him when she already has tall, dark and handsome Gale by her side? Typical high school drama ensues. [submitted by @everlurked]

Prompt 160: Katniss witnesses a potential crime in progress and gets in contact with law enforcement. Thanks to her tip, a travesty is adverted. But why did the perpetrator seem to recognize Katniss? And when did the baker’s boy become a head FBI agent? [submitted by @kiinghanalister]

Prompt 161: Katniss is texting back and forth with her older boss (who is hott and recently divorced) about a deadline. She's also bra shopping and taking photos to send to Johanna to get her opinion when she accidentally mixes up the recipients. She notices that she just hit send on the photo to Peeta by mistake (her boobs look amazing by the way, bonus points if it's sunset orange) Mortified she texts "shit, wrong person" What happens the next day at the office. Does Peeta think the pics were for a boyfriend? What's he thinking about during the staff meeting? Will Katniss be able to show her face? [submitted by @nightlock-1989]

Prompt 162: Peeta is actually the Mr. Mellark Mrs. Everdeen left behind to marry her true love when they were 18. They parted on good terms but Peeta just had to get out of town never knowing Mr Everdeens first or last name. 22 years later he returns and falls in love with frequent customer Katniss (who is of age) He brings out the playful side in her and she makes him feel young again. Katniss, who doesn't have a great relationship with her mother, doesn't tell her about the older man she's dating. While running errands, Mrs. Everdeen bumps into Katniss and Peeta, who happen to be engaged in a playful game of grab ass. Shock sets in for everyone. Does Mrs. Everdeen think Katniss is Peetas midlife crisis? Does Katniss' young age begin to nag Peeta? Huge bonus if Katniss freaks out because she realizes Peeta has fucked both her and her mom. [submitted by @nightlock-1989]

Prompt 163: Golden Age of Hollywood AU: Songbird Katniss finds herself signing a contract with The Capitol Productions, a major force in the studio system, after a casting agent hears her singing at a nightclub. Her first project is a musical with a handsome Capitol film star, Peeta Mellark. But while they agree to an engagement as fodder for film promotion, the fine print on their contract never covered the relationship becoming real... [submitted by @thelettersfromnoone]

Prompt 164: Peeta is a handsome prince, fleeing his evil stepmother, who has stolen his rightful crown. Katniss is a skilled tracker, taking bounties to send the money back to her struggling family. Will the well-respected hunter make good on the bounty, or will her heart have a different plan? [submitted by @thelettersfromnoone]

Prompt 165: Peeta gets with another girl after the war, while him and katniss are trying to be friends, thinking katniss doesn’t want him, but instead it only makes her insanely jealous. When she falls ill does Peeta come to her rescue or does he keep his distance to please his new gf [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 166: Peeta moves into a new town. It’s a small town but so lively but things starts getting weird when he starts encountering dead animals on his back porch. Looks like someone found their mate and is trying to empress him. #werewolfKatniss [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 167: He knows where she is at all times. What’s she’s doing and who’s she’s with. But lately she’s been hanging out with that guy for his liking and he needs to teach her and show her that she belongs to him and no one else. Her whole mind, body, and soul. !DarkPeeta #psychological #thriller #angst #mightnothaveanicehappyending [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 168: One thing that sets this community apart from the others is that is a matriarchy. But a lot of surrounding communities want to get in. When it is Katniss’s coming of age ceremony, the prophet tells her that she has the opportunity to choose a first husband from the neighboring community. Katniss was set on Gale but he became the third husband of (whoever you choose). Will she stick to her community’s men or branch out and get new blood? #olderpeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Prompt 169: A Capitolite veiwer perspective on the 74th games, maybe running right up to the first day of the Quell. Do they notice Katniss or Peeta at first, or is it one of the other tributes they like. How do the Starcrossed lovers creep up on them. Maybe reactions to Rues death, or the victory tour ( if you want to go that far) [submitted by @darkhorse-javert]

Prompt 170: Superhero/Catburglar AU: The jewel-thief Mockingjay has evaded The Capitol's superhero, Captain Strong, for long enough, and the Merchants of the city have started putting pressure on the hero to bring the thief in for justice. The only problem? The Captain is the alter-ego of teenager Peeta Mellark, and his elusive nemesis is his high school crush, Katniss Everdeen. [submitted by @thelettersfromnoone]

Prompt 171: IndianaJones!Katniss and JiltedLover!Peeta [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 172: Secret Agent Everlark. Peeta and Katniss are undercover partners on a case in Istanbul (or what have you). They take names and kick ass. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 173: Peeta's POV in THG when he wakes up in the cave after Katniss injects him with the medicine to cure his blood poisoning, finding her in a very scary pool of blood. His perspective until she finally wakes. Canon compliant please. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 174: Victory tour AU/deleted scene, Peeta and Katniss walk along a beach in District 4, in a brief moment where they are alone, and Katniss tells Peeta why her favourite colour is green, and anything else you think would fit nicely into that conversation. Basically just Katniss opening up a little more. Either Peeta or Katniss POV. [submitted by @emilia206]

Prompt 175: Katniss hits the force field in CF instead - Peeta’s reaction [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 176: Peeta absentmindedly calls Katniss “love”. She doesn’t mind. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 177: Canon compliant Peeta's POV in MJ when the bombs go off in front of the president's mansion. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]

Prompt 178: A story based on THIS tweet. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 179: Prompt based on the korean drama “Lovestruck in the City”. Peeta as Jaewon and Katniss as Eunho and the rest is up to you [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 180: Capitol didn’t know hijacking but they left Peeta broken. He was sexually assaulted many times by Capitol buyers, both men and women. Will he be able to recover? How does it affect Katniss and Peeta's dynamic. Also Finnick plays a very important role in Peeta's recovery. [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 181: After her parents death (possibly small pox?), Katniss goes to live with her mothers family. They accept beautiful blonde Prim instantly, but Katniss looks far too much like her Native American father. They sell her as a slave at auction to the Mellark Plantation. Even though she always works to the point of collapse, she is treated terribly by Peeta’s brutal mother. Does he help her keep in contact with Prim? or take care of her when the slave masters beat her? Does Mrs. Mellark sell her again? [submitted by @hope4hea]

Prompt 182: Canon Divergence Katniss gets caught hunting and whipped [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 183: Katniss is really pregnant in CF and forced by Snow to get an abortion [submitted by anonymous]

Prompt 184: Horror-love story. Locals tell legend of “La Dame Mellark” who practiced Dark Arts, caused her family’s ruin, and haunts decrepit, facetiously-named “Mellark Mansion.” What if ghostly figure sometimes spotted in window and unexplained occurrences not her ghost but actually Peeta who survived fireball explosion with physical and emotional scars? Years later, Katniss new in town, either seeks shelter there, maybe looking for her sister’s missing cat? Is Katniss trapped or injured or on the run? Does her singing soothe Peeta when he slips from shy to explosive personality? Does he free her? Do locals storm property looking for her? Is Katniss the delusional crazy dangerous one who repels the attacking horde with explosion, then is soothed by gentle Peeta who promises to care for her because turns out Prim died long ago and Katniss never faced truth? HEA for them, maybe not for townsfolk. [submitted by @567inpanem]

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Chapter 5 | Beautifully Broken

TW: Self-harm, mentions of parental death, mentions of ab*se (from father), suicidal, depression, anxiety attack, (almost) an overdose on antidepressants, emetophobia (fear of v*miting if you don't know the technical term), cutting, s*icidal phone call

If you think any of this will bother you, I will write a short summary on the next chapter of this chapter so you can skip over this one!

Y/N's POV

"Thanks for the party, Spencer. I'm sorry."

I close his car door, taking a deep breath, the early morning air causing the hairs on the back of my neck to spike up. I feel terrible for how I acted to Spencer. He was just trying to help- but I couldn't bring him into my mess. I loved him too much to do that.

I walked inside, too emotionally exhausted to cry. I felt alone again, and that somewhat inexplicable feeling of wanting to control something in my life, besides what I consumed resurfaced. I set my things down, and walked to the bathroom. It was weird. I felt like I was in this dreamy state, like this wasn't happening--like I was numbed in the mind and being controlled by a greater force than me as if I was a marionette. I felt calm. Weirdly calm. As I entered my bathroom, I took the sharp, lustrous silver blade out of my bottom drawer.. Inserting it deep into my skin until I felt small relief. I looked in the mirror, the pain searing through my arm, my face stoic. I didn't even recognize myself.

I wished I could talk to someone, anyone. It wasn't that I didn't have people to talk to-because I did. I knew Spencer would listen to me if I wanted to talk to him.. But it wasn't about people listening or not listening to me. It was about me using this blade to cope with my problems instead of me growing a pair and talking to someone.

All the same, I never did anything about it, instead letting my problems eat me away. When I was younger and harming myself without exactly knowing what I was doing, my mom used euphemism to explain to me that what I was doing was unhealthy, so I wouldn't feel like I was a lunatic for scratching myself on purpose at seven years old because I thought I deserved it.

My mother was the only thing that kept me from taking my own life. I was not only dealing with depression and anxiety by the time I was in second grade; but was also dealing with physical and mental abuse from my father. I honestly had no idea how someone as kind and caring as my mother could be with someone so monstrous as my father. She was too sick to do anything about it, so I just took whatever my father gave me.

After my mother died and my father was made to look after me, he began hitting me more. One day, I decided I had had enough and left in the middle of the night. I took his money, and bought myself an apartment three hours from where we lived. I was only eighteen at the time and so I immediately was stressed out with how I was going to pay my bills and taxes, as well. So I then got six part-time jobs. I did online school, and graduated college at twenty. School was my only escape from my life, so I finished the courses quickly, as I was not only passionate about being in the BAU (it was always my dream-job), but I also loved the feeling of accomplishing things. I graduated early and top of my class. I joined the BAU three years later.

As you could probably tell, I was extremely busy. This was a good excuse for me to 'forget' to eat. I had always dealt with body dysmorphic issues, but my father made it worse, calling me ugly and obese all the time. I was nowhere near obese. I was 5'3 and 105 pounds. But because I was so insecure, I began to stop eating on purpose. I went on two-hour runs everyday and only drank water and ate ice-cubes and celery.

I try talking to people about it, but they either feel sympathy then leave, or instantly shut me down, telling me I am stupid for thinking that way. That's why it's so hard to talk to someone, even someone so close to me like Spencer. I knew he cared, and deep down I knew that he wouldn't leave, but my anxiety fogged away any chances I had at being reasonable. Therefore leading me to believe I would have to bottle up these feelings alone. I lie in my bed, closing my eyes so I can drift into a slumber to forget about everything for a few hours. I am alone.

Spencer's POV

8:00 a.m., Monday (2 days after the party)

The shriek of my alarm wakes me up, the sound setting off every nerve in my body. I quickly get ready, then head to the office. Memories of Friday night start to flood my brain, as guilt and anxiety create a hazy fog over the images. Had I done something wrong by trying to help Y/n? No, I couldn't have... she needs help and sometimes people have a hard time with confrontation, I knew that- I knew that from personal experiences.

I texted and called her about five times each, trying to make sure she was okay, but she had never returned my texts or calls, she only read my texts. I had been debating going over to her apartment and seeing her, but I decided against it. I had to talk to her today.

I get ready then drive to the BAU, nervously tapping my hand on the steering wheel. I arrive a few minutes early, and walk inside. The bullpen is quiet but busy. I look around, no Y/n to be seen.. Just Derek and a fresh stack of paperwork sitting on my desk, awaiting my arrival. "It's fine," I think, "she's probably just late. I also arrived two minutes earlier than usual so she is going to probably be here any minute." I try to convince myself but I just have this twisting sensation in my gut, as if something is wrong. I brush it off to be a guilty conscious or anxiety, and continue on with my paperwork.

Y/N's POV

2 days after the party, 8:00 am

I woke up this morning, from my alarm chiming in my ears. I can't go to work today. I can't. So I text Hotch:

From Y/n to Boss-Man:

Hey Hotch. I unfortunately cannot come into work today as there is a family emergency.

I know he knows that I have no family members left, but maybe he'll think it's a friend that's almost like my family,- emergency.

From Boss-Man to Y/n:

Okay, don't worry about it. There isn't much paperwork to be done today so you can just get it done tomorrow or Wednesday... Whenever you get to it. Take care, and let me know if you need anything

From Y/n to Boss-Man:

Will do. Thank you so much. :)

Hotch sends a thumbs-up back and I set my phone down, fidgeting with my fingers. I think of Spencer.. How he has called and texted me but I haven't replied back. I feel like shit. I just couldn't bring him into this mess with me. I walk to my kitchen, grabbing some water, and my medications. I take them, then look back down at the bottle. If I wanted to end it all I could. I walk away and sit on my couch. I can't do this anymore.

I lie down, and fall asleep for a few hours.

Spencer's POV

The day is almost over and there is no sign of the beautifully broken angel. My heart sinks a bit and I just can't get rid of that nervous feeling in my stomach. I finish my paperwork, turning it into Hotch before I ask him,

"Do you know where Y/n is?"

"She said she needed time off for a 'family emergency'." he says honestly.

She told me that she doesn't have any family members around, a few months ago. She never explained why, but she seemed touchy about the subject so I never pushed it any further.

I gather my things and leave to go to my apartment.

In the middle of driving home, I hear my phone buzz. I ignore it, not wanting to be distracted from driving. But the buzzing is consistent, distracting me already from driving. So, I cautiously pick my phone up to see Y/n's number flash across my screen. I almost crash my car into the other car in front of me, my heart skipping nervously. I answer.

"Spencer," I hear sobs breaking from her throat, tearing my heart apart. "I-I did something really stupid."

Y/N's POV

I woke from my slumber, the purple skies filling my vision as the night air from my open windows seeps into my apartment. I hear a buzz from my phone.

Boss-Man to Y/n:

Hello, I hope all is well. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer. I have some bad news. We believe your father is trying to track you down to find you. Try not to worry too much, we have you secured and locked down. Call me as soon as you can so I can give you more info.

I feel my throat close up, bile rising in my throat. I thought I was safe. I moved two cities down from where I used to live. My panic sets in as I begin to hyperventilate.

"No no no.. this cannot be happening right now."  I whisper to myself, tears pouring out of my eyes. I hear my phone buzz some more, but I am too distracted to read any of it. I want to go away and never come back.

I rush to the bathroom, grabbing that metal blade and dragging it slowly across my skin. It didn't work. I didn't feel relief. I scream angrily, rushing to the kitchen. I want this to be over. I don't want to die. I just want the pain to stop.

With shaky hands I grasp my antidepressant prescription bottle. Taking a handful of them and washing them down with water as I wince, some scraping the back of my dry throat. I feel like I'm watching myself from a third-person point of view. I can't stop thinking of one thing-one person, as I fully swallow those pills. Spencer. I need him. I need to call him. So without thinking, I grab my phone, ignoring the missed calls and texts from Hotch. I quickly dial Spencer's number, as wrecking sobs break from my voice.

Spencer's POV:

In the middle of driving home, I hear my phone buzz. I ignore it, not wanting to be distracted from driving. But the buzzing is consistent, distracting me already from driving. So, I cautiously pick my phone up to see Y/n's number flash across my screen. I almost crash my car into the other car in front of me, my heart skipping nervously. I answer.

"Spencer," I hear sobs breaking from her throat, tearing my heart apart. "I-I did something really stupid."

"What did you do?" I ask, keeping my voice soft.

"I can't do this anymore- I couldn't do this anymore. I'm sorry. I tried to cope with it but I can't anymore. I wanna go away. He's back." she chokes through her sobs, breathing heavily.

I try to compose myself, to not freak her out. Truth be told, I'm completely and utterly terrified.

"W-Who's back?" I stutter, "what happened, Angel?" I ask, trying to hold back my own sobs as tears fall down my cheeks.  Who is she talking about?

"I was trying to get better, I'm sorry. I-I love you. I always have." she cries, gasping for air.

My heart hurts but swells at the admittance. I want to say that I love her too, but I can't. All that comes out of my mouth is,

"I'm coming over there." I turn my car around to head to her direction.

I try to talk to her, to ask her what's wrong, but she never answers my questions, only saying that she's sorry. She hangs up, and I panic more. I arrive at her place, running up to her apartment, as I open the door with the spare key she gave me.

Running in, I see her on the floor, lying there like a broken angel, unconscious. I see the pill bottles and my heart drops down to my stomach. It felt like a blur; me running over to her, and putting her in a bathtub with water, letting her lay on me as we both get soaked under her shower head. I take my two fingers and plunge them deeply into her throat, cringing slightly. A few moments go by and I hear coughing and gagging, throwing up the pills and bile that was left in her throat. She gasps for air, clutching on to my hand as I continue to comfort her, by rubbing her back and brushing her hair out of her face. She turns to me and cries.

"I-I'm sorry," she says through sobs.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," I softly say to her as she wraps me in one of her hugs. "You're going to be okay... I'm gonna help you- we'll get through this together."   I use my free hand to turn off the water and we just lie there, cuddling. I kiss the top of her head, as she sniffles into my shirt. Tears sting my eyes, but I need to be strong.

"I'm proud of you," I whisper to her.

"Why?" she whispers back, grasping my body to pull me closer to her.

"Because you called me."  I say.

After about ten more minutes of us sitting in her tub, I gently help her out of the water, giving her a towel, and some warm clothes. She keeps the bathroom door cracked open slightly as she changes. I then change and walk to her bedroom where she is.

"C-can you stay the night? Like sleep in the bed with me, please. I want someone here with me." she stutters nervously.

"Of course," I reply softly.

I get into the bed with her as she pulls me closer to her body. I kiss her forehead and she lies down on my chest.

"Thank you, Spencer." she whispers before falling into her own quiet slumber.

"I would do anything for you." I whisper back, not really meaning for her to hear it, but she looks up at me and smiles softly, that beautiful smile of hers. I take my thumb and gently caress her cheek with it. My cheeks burn a light pink but I am sure she can't see it as it is dark in her room, besides the white glowing moon casting a shiny glow on to her, making her look like a fairy.

As I drift off to sleep, I am reminded of what she said earlier... about her loving me.

'I love you too, Y/n',  I think to myself. 'I always will.'

___________________________________________________________________________

AN: SAD. SAD. SAD. this chapter is very sad, I know, but I promise that it will get happier (there is a happy ending!!! i love happy endings!)

love you all!

Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255

[moral-turpitudes]

College Headcanons: Modern!Peaky Blinders Edition

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: This came to me in a dream. Enjoy. 

Thomas Shelby:

Double Major: Political Science and Business Management (bc he likes to work himself to death) Minor: Military Sciences/ROTC

Likes debating and trying to outsmart the professor.

Often seen on campus with bloody knuckles from rocking someone’s jaw.

Would 100% punch a motherfucker for being mean to someone he cares about.

Doesn’t need to be in a fraternity to be known around campus, just don’t mess with him and you’ll be fine.

All the girls whisper as he walks by but he don’t give a fuck cuz he has to go to his lectures.

He’s on time for every class and pulls out his pocket watch if the professor is more than 5 minutes late. If the professor can’t bother showing up then he dips out.

Almost got suspended for one too many fist fights.

Has a “thing” for the barista at the campus Starbucks. He learned after frequent visits, that her name was Grace and that she liked black coffee just like him.

Mysterious and moody af. No one knows if they’ve ever seen him smile, except when chatting up Grace.

Tries his best to study, but ends up getting dragged into his siblings shenanigans or into his head about the family business.

Keeps to himself for the most part, except for having a few close friends.

Hates technology so he uses a typewriter and prefers receiving letters/mail over emails.

Can’t figure out how to use Grace the baristas phone when typing in his number and tells her to write it down instead.

Often tells her to meet him after her shift. 😏

Professors hate him because of his reliance on paper. Totes not eco-friendly but he doesn’t care. Tommy always gets his way.

Grace always gives him a cookie for free cuz she knows he forgets to eat.

Always seen smoking or sneaking drinks of whiskey in a flask, even at 7am lectures.

Binge drinks on weekends with his bros, and drunk calls barista Grace when he has maybe 3 working brain cells left for the night. On other weekends when he’s coherent, he meets with Polly and tries to discuss business plans since their dad dipped out like a bitch.

To make matters worse, after dating for a while, Grace just leaves him. He thinks his aunt Polly may have been too hard on her, but he didn’t know until later that she lied when she said she didn’t know about the business. But barista bitch knew everything, and was gonna expose them to her higher-ups in the criminal justice department before long.

Arthur Shelby:

Major: Agriculture Minor: Military Science/ROTC

Graduated just barely.

Ended up in some trouble with his peeps in the military science department, probs for cussing someone out.

Angry, loud, and emotional af.

Loved drinking with John and his frat boy friends.

No one messed with him if they valued their life.

Started one too many fights and got suspended for reals. Almost beat a man to death but we don’t talk about that.

He gets stressed really easily so in his free time he draws horses.

When he gets real mad he takes it to the campus boxing ring and punches to his hearts content.

On his way back to his dorm one night he saw a girl who was in his agriculture class. She was cute and also in a “Christian” ministry group on campus. He decided to chat her up when she was preaching, just to see what it was about.

They later dated but then she cheated around with a fellow churchy man and just went off the rails. When he found out it wasn’t pretty.

Her friends and pastor most likely shamed her cuz she be ✨sinning✨. Therefore not helping her mental state.

Her name was Linda. Never trust a Linda.

Everyone tried to console Arthur but only boxing and drinking at Johns frat house did the trick.

Tommy often had to run to his dorm in the middle of the night to talk him out his mental breakdowns. College is hard.

In the end, he was glad he did agriculture even if his crazy ex would constantly stare at him during lectures, probably plotting his demise.

Some days he’d take out his frustrations by chopping wood and helping out on the farm where he worked and studied most days.

But you bet your ass fuckin’ Linda showed up to his dorm one time though with a gun and tried to shoot him, but she didn’t know his brothers and aunt were there too. Polly may have shot her in the arm tho. But when the campus PD showed up shit really went down.

We don’t know where Linda is now, but that’s probs for the best.

John Shelby:

Major: Music (idk I felt like he’s a musical boi) Minor: Military Science/ROTC

He’s a frat boy through and through. He drops it low on the dance floor and is known to dive onto beer pong tables.

Constantly going to parties and hooking up with sorority girls, that is until he meets a girl named Esme who’d been dragged to the party by her friends.

Suddenly he ain’t no hoe no more, he’s head over boots in love with her and she loves him too.

They be sneaking around in various buildings, often having to make a run for it to escape security.

He’d play her songs after hard training days with his military buds cuz it helps him calm down.

He’s not as violent as his older brothers, but he’ll fuck a person up if needed.

His fraternity is the second most important thing to him besides his girl. He loves the energy of the fraternity, the partying, and acting a whole fool with his friends, but Esme has him whipped.

His studies are struggling though cuz he loves to get turnt. He hates the studying aspect of college.

Always getting his brothers into trouble.

Snorts coke off Esme’s tits on occasion at the frat parties. It’s a wild time.

Has the mouth of a sailor but a heart of gold.

Talks of kids with Esme after dating for a year. Can’t afford a ring yet tho, but their bud Jeremiah marries them anyway on a whim.

After Arthur and the Grace fiasco ensues, he drops out of college because Esme falls pregnant. In the end, she ends up getting the chickens and wild cottage!core house she’d always wanted. They both decide to raise their kids there, living their best lives until Tommy drags them into more family matters later on.

Ada Shelby:

Major: English Minor: Gender & Women’s Studies

Always seen in the most stylish clothes.

She’s quiet most times but can be very knowledgeable on various subjects.

She’s constantly going off on her older brothers and trying to smack some sense into them.

Feels like something is off with the barista Tommy’s been seeing, but it’s not her problem.

Can 100% find her chilling in the back of Starbucks reading old novels or writing literature reviews.

When she’s not there, she’s holed up in the library where she works part time, studying and practicing for debates.

10/10 would fuck in the library cuz she knows all the best secret places to go to. 😏

Organizes meetings with different campus associations and demands equality for students.

Spends her free time surfing the net for clothes or keeping an eye out for a potential new bae.

Is probably the best at studying. She earns the best grades let’s be honest.

Will not hesitate to call a bitch out. She may not throw hands but she’ll throw words that can cut you like a knife.

Works for the campus paper, spilling all the tea on campus life. Her brothers often reluctantly agree to be her mock interview subjects for a range of assignments.

She breaks necks when walking around campus, everyone moves out of their way for her.

She’s a bad bitch.

Finn Shelby:

Major: Photography Minor: English

He hates how violent his brothers are but would 10/10 back them up if needed.

Often asks Ada for advice on studying and girls.

Doesn’t like the frat boy scene like John, but goes to the parties anyways with his best friends Isiah and Bonnie.

He’s a freshman and you can tell. He still has a glimmer of life in his eyes and a pep in his step as he walks around campus.

When he’s not taking pictures for class, he’s taking pictures of his girlfriend.

She’s his muse even when doing the simplest of things like sitting in a chair or reading one of his English books.

Each week he’d surprise her with a picture he took when she wasn’t looking, telling her how beautiful she is.

He may not look strong, but after many nights at the boxing ring with Arthur, he knew how to throw a punch.

He almost flunked his studies a couple times, getting too caught up in partying or being with his girl, but Ada and his Aunt Polly set him straight.

Voted by his family as most likely to not get arrested or suspended from college.

He’d have deep conversations with his friends, often confusing them because it was just that deep.

In his spare time he’d go boxing with Arthur or would try to help Tommy with his essays, but Tommy would get frustrated and tell him to fuck off within the first 10 minutes.

Polly Gray:

Profession: Business Management Professor Side Job: Managing the blinder business with Tommy

When she’s not teaching class, she’s managing the blinder business that was left to her and Tommy to tackle. This also means covering up any suspicions that arise on campus. She has her hands full.

She’s Tommy’s only shred of common sense some days when he gets too stressed out from his 10,000 majors and minors, or wants to plan to overthrow the university.

Will not hesitate to slap someone, preferably her unruly nephews.

Anyone can lie to her but the truth always falls through the cracks, and when she finds out, you’d pray you faced the devil instead.

In her spare time she reads tea leaves and prays for the corrupt souls of her son and his cousins. She really just begs to god that they can come together for once to get the business in line, but even that may be asking too much.

Knows a snake when she sees one. *cough* *cough* Grace the barista.

She’s the first one to tell someone I told ya so, especially her students when they flunk her tests because they decided to get drunk the night before.

When she’s not yelling at her nephews or grading papers, she can be seen at the local bar chatting up coworkers and old flames, hoping to find “the one” eventually. She ends up having a “thing” for the quirky Philosophy professor though. He’s kind of shady cuz she finds out he’s in a similar business on the side, but it only makes her like him more. She craves the danger.

They later end up in a whirlwind romance similar to John and Esme, and everyone loves that for them.

She can also be seen with her head in her hands when trying to persuade Tommy to use technology.

“What is copy and paste Pol? Can’t I just write it down? What’s up with all these gadgets aye?”

“If you want your hand to fall off and to make me lose my mind, then yes, write it down. Grading is bloody hard enough as it is, let alone grading your papers. You’re just like your father ya know, always doing things the hard way.”

Tells Gina off when she gets the chance just like she did Grace. She didn’t shoot her like Linda though, she just hurt some feelings.

May have aided in Grace’s “sudden” departure…maybe…just a little bit.

Secretly ships Tommy with a woman named Lizzie who had been her assistant at her office. She knew she could trust her more, at least.

Despite her harshness, she’s just trying to keep her family from completely fucking up their lives.

Michael Gray:

Major: Accounting Minor: Business Management

Like Tommy, he doesn’t get the hype of fraternities so he just hangs out with his cousins or his small circle of friends, they aren’t saints though.

His mom, Polly is his business management professor. She always calls on him and gives him a hard time when he spaces out in class.

Is often seen around campus with a few friends or his girlfriend Gina who he met in business class. They’re sickening and it was like a whirlwind romance tbh.

He usually finds himself cleaning up his cousin’s messes when it comes to fighting, but if he has to throw some punches he will.

He’s not as impulsive when it comes to matters of business, but where matters of the heart are concerned that’s another story.

When the blinders and Polly were all at her house for dinner one night he announced he was going to marry Gina. Arthur and John laughed and Tommy smirked slightly, still butt-hurt after his Grace left him for little-to-no reason. Ada grinned and bared the news whilst Polly nearly smacked him on the head.

People didn’t dare mess with him, and that went for all his cousins as well.

He spent a majority of his days in class crunching numbers, and most his nights out with the boys getting drunk or fuckin’ with Gina.

Because his mom held him accountable, his grades rivaled Ada’s causing them to get into some friendly competition at times.

He’s cunning like Tommy though. He got into many a screaming match with the older blinder after trying to take over his position in the family business. It ended in some black eyes and Polly smacking both of them with her newspaper. He knew better than to mess with the devil himself.

Despite the tensions between the cousins at times, he’s always the one they go to when they can’t figure out their math homework, and he’d always have to meet one of them in the library at 3 am to smuggle in some cocaine and a drink to keep them studying.

[buferfliz]

Temptation Waits

I’m crap at summaries which is why i never do them but perhaps i will attempt one for a change. I hope you like it because i do :)

Summary: What happens when you go to a party, get a little drunk, and reveal your dirtiest thoughts to the guy you’re secretly in love with? You didn’t know but you were about to find out. Iwaizumi would know it all by the end of the night.

I made the banner, first one I’ve made actually.

Warnings: 18+, swearing, lots of dirty talk, alcohol consumption, biting/marking, vaginal sex, pussy job i guess though i wish there was a better term, creampie, some fluff because i just like fluff lol.

         You throw back the shot in your hand and retrieve your drink from the bar top. They had gone all out with this party. Nice food spread, bartender, even a DJ but you suppose that was to be expected when you were heading to Nationals.

         Yes, your university volleyball team had finally overcome their archrivals. Aoba Johsai had defeated Shiratorizawa in a spectacular five set match.

         After Iwaizumi had made that final spike it seemed as though the entire gym had erupted in cheers, well everyone except Shiratorizawa and their fans that is. You had never seen the team so happy. Your fellow fourth years in particular had been especially joyous, but no one seemed happier or had bigger smiles on their faces than Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You knew how badly they wanted to defeat Ushijima and his team and you were so happy that they had been able to achieve their goal before graduating.

         That had been three days ago and why this party was taking place. They waited until Friday to throw the party so that everyone could have the weekend to recover from the raucous celebration.

         You weren’t much of a party person yourself but you wanted to celebrate with the team, one member in particular, and you had been invited by said member. Iwaizumi himself had invited you, your lab partner and the man you’d fallen hard for. The two of you were friends, not super close or anything but you had been lab partners for the last two years and now this year as well. You just always seemed to find yourselves in the same classes and since you’d both gotten A’s the first time you’d partnered up you figured you might as well continue to do so. You had gotten along and worked well together and you had been successful each time, all A’s so far.

         That was how you ended up falling for him. Being partners resulted in the two of you spending a good amount of time together working on projects and you’d gotten to know each other fairly well. It’s how you knew just how much this victory had meant to him and his best friend.

         Now here you were at the party primarily because there was no way you’d turn down an invitation from Hajime Iwaizumi. You finish your drink and order another as you scan the crowd. You’d only caught a brief glimpse of the man of your dreams earlier before more people had gone over to him. Congratulating him, you supposed.

         You take your drink. What was this? Number 4? Number 5? You shrug. Regardless of the number you were feeling the effects of the alcohol on your system. You weren’t wasted but you were certainly more than buzzed. I’ll drink water after this one, you decide to yourself as you sit down on a nearby couch and crowd watch.

         You wonder if you‘ll even get to talk to Iwa at this point. It’s still early though as you find out when you check your phone for the time. It was 9:30pm, the party had started at 8pm and you were sure it would continue all night. It was a good thing that this dorm only housed the team otherwise there surely would have been complaints.

         You continue looking around, sipping on your drink as you let your thoughts wander to Iwa. He was a sweet guy. A little serious and sometimes a bit tough, though that seemed to be primarily focused on Oikawa, but he was kind, caring, and smart as well. Your feelings weren’t just purely innocent with him either. He was hot, those sculpted muscular arms alone were enough to make you drool and you bet that the rest of his body was just as drool worthy if not more so. He had been the star of your fantasies a countless number of times as you lay naked on your bed pleasuring yourself. Oh how you wanted to see what he was hiding under those clothes of his.

         You were stirred from your thoughts by the rattle of the ice in your now empty cup that you had just taken the final sip from. You place it down onto the table next to you. Maybe it would be better if you didn’t get to speak to Iwa because alcohol had a way of making you say things that you normally wouldn’t, even if they were true. And right now all your brain seemed to want to focus on was how the taut muscles of his abdomen would feel under your hands or just how big his cock might be. Alcohol also tended to make you a little horny, ok maybe a lot.

Yeah, probably better if you don’t talk to him. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself, you’d still have to see him again after this night was over. Still, imagining him sweaty and leaning over you while he pounded into your aching pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.

You need water, time to start sobering yourself up before you do something you’ll regret later.

Before you could get up to go get that water, however, you spot the one person that you at the same time want to see but also don’t. And yet you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out to him.

“Hey Iwa!” You yell as you wave at him, big dumb smile on your face.

Iwa spots you and heads over. He sits next to you on the couch, beer in hand and a smile of his own on his face.

“Hey, here you are, I’ve been looking for you.” He tells you.

“You have?”

“Yeah I wasn’t sure if you’d show up, especially since I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

“Aww, you remembered me telling you that? You’re so sweet.” Damn do I love this man, you think before you continue. “Of course I’m here, you invited me. So naturally I was going to show up.”

You shift in your seat, bending your one leg and bringing it up onto the couch, the other one crossed over it with your foot on the floor so that you can face Iwa more properly.

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am now that you’re here.” You say as you put your hand on his firm bicep, flirtatious smile on your face.

“Well I’m sorry it took me so long to find you then.” He laughs.

“That’s ok, you’re here now.” You gaze into his eyes. “You know, you have really pretty eyes.”

“Thank you. I like your eyes too. They’re beautiful.”

You feel your face heat up at the compliment as the alcohol in your system encourages you to keep talking even though you normally wouldn’t and probably shouldn’t.

“I like you Iwa.”

“I like you too, but just call me Hajime. I keep telling you to.”

“No Iwa, sorry Hajime. I really like you a lot, love you even.” You confess.

Iwa’s eyes widen.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no. Ok maybe a little but I mean it.”

“Let me go get you some water, I’ll be right back.” He smiles.

“Ok, but hurry.” You pout as he gets up to get you that water.

  That pout of yours had him twitching in his pants as he went to retrieve you a bottle of water. How did you make it look so fucking sexy? He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive because he did. You’re beautiful as well as sweet and kind. He’d also be lying if he said it didn’t please him to hear your confession. Truth be told he thought you had a thing for Oikawa, you were always staring when the two of them were together. So does that mean you were actually staring at him then? Had you stared at him other times and he just hadn’t noticed?

He thought nothing could make him happier than having beaten Ushiwaka and Shiratorizawa but if you felt the same way as him, well that would be a whole different level of happiness. The fact was that he’d had a crush on you from the start, just something about you drew him in. The more time he’d spend with you and the more he’d gotten to know you had made his crush evolve into something more. He likes you a lot, loves you even to use the words you had just said to him. He wanted to ask you to be his but he thought you liked Oikawa so he wasn’t going to get in the way but now with this new information maybe he should ask you.

Of course you were drunk and even though you said that you meant it, he couldn’t know for sure. You’d most likely forget what you said by the next morning anyway so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. For now he would just revel in your words and touch but not take anything too seriously. He grabs you a bottle of water and a plate with some food for good measure since he wasn’t sure if you’d eaten yet and heads back over to you.

  Iwa hands you the bottle of water as you finish the contents of a small plastic cup. He sits next to you once again.

“What was that?”

“A jello shot and it was cherry too. Do you want a taste? The flavor is still in my mouth.” You smirk.

“Don’t tempt me. You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.”

“But I really don’t mind if you want to be a bad boy tonight.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Sorry I’m only on my second beer so I’m not drunk.”

“Aww.” You pout again. “Maybe you should try drinking some more then.”

You put your hand back on his arm and run it up and down, squeezing the hard muscles every now then. Fuck does he feel good. And that’s just his arm, you think to yourself.

Iwa just shakes his head once more, gaze briefly breaking from your eyes before returning to them.

You wonder what’s going through his mind. You could swear he looked at your lips just now like he wanted to kiss you, but maybe that was just the alcohol and wishful thinking talking.

“I brought you some food too, you haven’t eaten anything yet have you?” He places the plate on your leg that you still have resting on the couch,

“You’re so hot and sweet and caring and thoughtful and hot, oh wait I said that already.” You laugh as you stare dreamily into Iwa’s eyes.

He just smiles at you.

You eat some food from the plate you were given. It had all your favorite things on it. How does he even know that? You think as you find yourself struck once again by how much you love this man sitting beside you. You eat a little more before you continue your ramblings.

“Seriously, you’re the greatest guy. You’re smart and kind and talented. And did I mention hot?”

“Yeah, I think you might have.” He says with a laugh.

“Right, well you are. I bet you’re super popular with the ladies.” You feel a pang in your chest at the thought of all the girls that must flirt with him.

“Nah, Oikawa is the one with the fan girls which is fine with me. I don’t have the patience for that shit.”

“Well they’re missing out then. But that’s ok because it just means that I could be your girl. I promise I’d take really good care of you.”

  He really shouldn’t be thinking what he was at this moment, not when you were being so cute and sweet, but he couldn’t help himself. You were so close to him and you were just so perfect for him. Yeah I’d like to take really good care of you too babygirl, he thinks to himself as his eyes dart to your breasts and then back to your face. He licks his lips before shaking the dirty thoughts away and takes a sip of his beer.

“I’m sure you would.” He says with a smile. “Too bad you’ll forget about all of this by the morning.” He adds under his breath.

You tilt your head to the side.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Drink your water and make sure you eat some more too.”

“Oh Hajime, the way you’re doting on me and taking care of me is just making me fall harder for you. Unfair.” You say with another little pout before eating more food.

Unfair is right, he thinks. You had no idea what that pout of yours was doing to him. He wanted nothing more than to bite that bottom lip of yours before kissing you breathless. Oh how he wished you weren’t drunk right now, that he knew you meant every word you’d said, that you really wanted him as badly as he wanted you, and that he could take you and make you his. But you were drunk and he would never take advantage of you like that. He would never do that to anyone but especially not to someone he cared about.

He feels you rub up and down his arm again.

“Your arms are so sexy, strong, and toned. I bet the rest of you is too.” You give him a suggestive smile.

Yeah and the things I could do to you with them, he thinks before smirking at you. No. He had to stop these thoughts before his pants got tighter.

“I bet you could toss me around with those strong arms of yours, fold me into whatever position you wanted. Or just pin me down to the bed and fuck me into the mattress.”

Well, he hadn’t expected you to say something like that. He was seeing a whole new side of you and he was liking it. I guess I’m not the only one who’s thought things like that. It made him hopeful. Perhaps you did mean everything you were saying, only time would tell. But now thanks to the visual your words supplied, he felt his cock stiffen. He tries to think about something else to get the situation back under control but your words aren’t helping him in the slightest.

“You must have at least a six pack. I would love to map out the grooves of those abs with my tongue.” You lean in closer to him with heavy lidded eyes and a lust blown stare. “I can only imagine how big your cock is too. I bet it would stretch me out and fill me up so perfectly.”

Well shit. He shifts a bit in his seat as he feels himself harden more.

Practically moaning into his ear, you continue talking filth.

“Pin me down and fuck me from behind, pound into my pussy before flipping me over and putting me into a mating press so you can get deep, deeeep inside of me and then fill me up with—“

“Ok time to get you back to your room so you can sleep it off.” Iwa says, cutting you off.

Holy fuck. He wanted nothing more than to fulfill your every sexual request. But the effects of that were making it difficult for him to hide his growing erection and he knew he had to get himself and you out of there before it became too apparent.

“Did you bring anything with you?”

You shake your head no.

He stands up and you follow, stumbling slightly and falling into him. He catches you against his chest and breathes in the pretty floral scent of your perfume which does not help with his current dilemma. He puts an arm around your waist to keep you steady and begins walking you through the crowd towards the door. He loves the feel of your body pressed against his, he must admit, but now was not the time for that. He is stirred from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

“Hey Iwa-chan, where are you going? It’s only 11pm.” Oikawa calls out to him as he walks by. “Oh I see.” His friend continues as he looks at you clinging to Iwa and Iwa’s arm around your waist.

“Good for you Iwa-chan.” He says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up trashykawa, I’m just taking her back to her room so she can sleep it off.”

“Do you even know where her room is? She doesn’t look like she’s in any fit state to tell you.”

Shit. Oikawa was right, he didn’t know where your room was.

“Don’t worry about it.” He tells his friend as he leads you away.

“I guess there’s only one thing I can do then.” He says to himself as he changes direction from the door to the stairs.

He helps you go up the stairs as you are still unsteady on your feet but it’s proving to be a bit more difficult than he originally anticipated and your destination is on the third floor. So he puts his strong arms, and everything else, to use and picks you up.

“Ooh, are you going to throw me on the bed and have your way with me? Because I’m ok with that.”

“If only.” Iwa says with a chuckle.

He reaches his door, opens it, and sets you down onto his bed.

“Just get some sleep, you’ll be back to normal in the morning.”

“But that’s no fun.” You give him that pout once again.

He lets out a groan as he feels his dick get harder. Damn he wanted you so fucking badly, but he would never take advantage of you. He could have a kiss though, surely that would be ok, right? He really wanted to feel your soft lips pressed against his just once before you forgot all the sweet and filthy things you’d said to him tonight. He smiles at you.

“What if I give you a kiss? Will you get some sleep then?”

Your eyes light up and you smile.

Fuck, she’s so beautiful, he thinks. He likes you even more than he thought, no, he was definitely in love with you.

“Ok but only if it’s on the lips and you have to lay with me.”

“You drive a hard bargain but ok.” Even harder than he would let you realize, he shifts trying to conceal his erection.

He takes off the hoodie that he’s wearing revealing the tank he has on underneath, his sexy arms on full display and the fabric clinging to his defined pecs and abs. He sits next to you on the bed and puts the hoodie on his lap to hide the effects that your words and actions have had on him.

“Holy shit! I thought you wanted me to go to sleep. And then you show me this? Are you trying to tease me to death?” You say with a laugh.

Iwa laughs to himself. He was teasing you? You’d been teasing him all night.

You reach out and rub your hands over both of his arms simultaneously. You bite your bottom lip and he feels his cock react. Fuck that was even sexier than the pout, a groan escapes him as he stares at your lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me into the mattress?” You smirk.

If only you knew how fucking badly he wanted to do exactly that.

“Do you want the kiss or not?”

“Well I’d like more than that but yes I want the kiss.”

He leans in and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you crashing your lips against his.

Your lips feel even better against his than he imagined, so soft and perfect. Lips made to kiss his and no one else’s. Before it can get too heated, however, he pulls away knowing he might lose control of the situation if he doesn’t.

“Ok now lay down.”

You do so and he lays down next to you. You snuggle up to him and grab onto his arm. After a few minutes he feels you relax against him, sees the slow even rise and fall of your chest and figures you must be asleep. He takes out his phone and looks at the time, 11:53pm. Now what was he going to do? He couldn’t just leave you here alone, not even to take care of his problem. If you woke up while he was gone you might be disoriented or worse someone might find their way into the room and take advantage of your sleeping form. He knew his teammates wouldn’t but there were a lot of people in the dorm currently and he didn’t know all of them.

He briefly considers just taking care of it right there with you holding onto his arm and sleeping peacefully beside him but decides against it. He doesn’t want to risk waking you up. He looks over at your sleeping face awash in the warm glow of the desk light on the table next to him. He gently brushes the hair that had fallen onto your face behind your ear. I could get used to waking up to her every morning. Maybe I’ll just ask her to be mine when she wakes up, he thinks to himself. A tender smile comes to his face as he watches you before turning his attention back to the ceiling.

He decides to take a nap himself in the hopes that he might be able to calm down some while he sleeps. But with you holding onto his arm, the warmth of your body against his side, and the pleasant floral scent of you surrounding him he wonders if it will help at all. Regardless, he soon finds himself drifting off beside you.

  You begin to stir and your eyes flutter open. Gray light filters in through the window and you decide that you could get more sleep, you feel too safe, warm, and comfortable to get up anyway. You snuggle into the warm body beside you and close your eyes.

Wait. Warm body? Your eyes snap open and you pop up into a seated position as the previous events come rushing back to you. This also causes you to acknowledge the dull throbbing of your head. You figure you got lucky that it wasn’t worse with all the alcohol that you had drank.

Yeah but that was also because I had Iwa taking care of me, you think to yourself.

You look over to the warm body and are met with Iwa’s beautiful eyes fixed upon you.

“Good morning sunshine.” He says with a little smile before reaching over and opening the mini fridge next to the bed.

He takes out a bottle of water and hands it to you.

“Here, drink this.”

You take the bottle from him and take a gulp.

“I’m so sorry you had to leave the party and take care of me. I’m sure you wanted to celebrate more with Oikawa and the rest of your team.”

“It’s ok, I celebrated enough. I didn’t mind taking care of you.”

You smile at him. Fuck how is he so damn perfect and how is it possible that he keeps making me fall for him even more.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” He asks you before teasingly adding, “Do you even remember the party?”

“Yes I remember.” You stick your tongue out at him and take another gulp of water. “I have a dull headache but otherwise I feel ok. Probably because you did such a good job taking care of me.”

“Good I’m glad. Not only did I not mind but I actually kind of liked taking care of you.” Iwa says with a sweet smile on his lips.

Oh those lips, you remembered how they felt pressed against yours and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.

“So if you remember, then does that mean you remember what you said to me at the party?”

“You mean when I told you that I was in love with you? Yes.”

“Did you actually mean it?”

Now or never, you think to yourself before swallowing down another drink of water and then setting the bottle on the table.

“Yeah I did. I liked you from the start Iwa, I mean Hajime, and I’ve been in love with you for over a year now.”

You glance away as you feel your face heat up with your confession before looking back at his face and finding him looking a bit surprised. What is he thinking? You think to yourself as time seems to drag on waiting for him to respond.

He sits up and blinks a few times, the two of you close together and facing each other on the bed.

“So you really do feel the same way I do then?” He says, more to himself than you.

“Yes. Wait. You feel the same?”

A smile spreads across his face.

“Yeah, but I thought you liked Oikawa otherwise I would have already asked you out.”

“Oikawa? I mean he is pretty, but I think you’re prettier. So no it’s you, always has been.”

Iwa feels his cheeks warm a bit at your compliment. You think he’s prettier than Oikawa? He feels his smile grow bigger.

“In that case, do you want to be my girl? You did say you wanted to be last night and that you’d take really good care of me, right?”

“Yeah I did. Of course I want to be your girl, Hajime. Nothing would make me happier.” You give him a big smile.

“What if I give you a kiss then?”

“Yes, but only if it’s on the lips.” You say with a laugh as you remember the kiss from before and how it came about.

Iwa laughs a bit and leans in. He gently presses his lips against yours before swiping his tongue along the seam of your lips. You open up enough to give him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. He sensuously caresses your tongue with his own as you explore each other’s mouths. He puts one of those strong arms around your waist and pulls you against him. You place one hand on his muscular chest as your other travels down to his abs where you begin feeling the taut muscles through the material of his tank.

The kiss becomes more heated as your tongues continue to caress each other. You wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands finding its way into his surprisingly soft hair. He pulls you even closer, arm still around your waist as his other hand makes its way down onto your hip, his thumb massaging small circles into the flesh there.

With a little bite to your bottom lip, he breaks the kiss. You find yourself breathless, little pants escaping you as you catch your breath.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the party last night.” He says with a chuckle.

You smile at him as your breath begins to even out.

“What? Leave me breathless? Mission accomplished then. Oh and you can do that whenever you like too.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He smirks. “So do you remember what else you said to me last night?”

Oh do I, you think, but I’m not going to admit to that it’d be too embarrassing.

“You mean when I told you that you were hot and had sexy arms? Because yes I do and both of those statements are also true.”

“Good to know, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Oh I know. You decide to feign innocence and hope he believes you so you furrow your brow like you’re confused.

“No? Did I say something else?” You think you’ve successfully pulled it off until you see a devilish smirk grace Iwa’s kissable lips. Still, you keep your expression neutral.

“So you don’t remember,” he places a kiss against your lips, “saying how you wondered how big my cock is?” He kisses along your jaw. “Or how it would feel stretching you out?”

He starts kissing along the column of your neck, smirking against your skin when a little moan escapes you.

“Um, no?” You say as innocently as possible even though you can feel warmth creep up your neck.

He starts licking, sucking, and biting a trail down your neck, little gasps and moans falling from your lips at his ministrations.

“No? Ok. So what about when you said you wanted me to use my strong sexy arms to toss you onto the bed and then fuck you into the mattress?”

At this point you feel your cheeks growing hotter as Iwa continues sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you for everyone to see. You still won’t give in though, you always have been a bit stubborn.

“Sorry I don’t remember saying anything like that.” You say as you feel yourself becoming more and more aroused.

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Ok I know you must remember this though.” He kisses his way up to your ear and licks the shell of it before nibbling on it causing you to let out a sinful moan.

“What’s that?” You say breathily.

He lets out a chuckle and then whispers into your ear in a sexy tone.

“When you said you wanted me to pin you down and fuck you from behind, pounding into your pussy before…”

He nips at your earlobe hard and you moan louder feeling your arousal pool in your lower belly as your panties and leggings get wetter.

“flipping you over and putting you into a mating press so that I can get deep deeeep inside of you and then fill you up with my—“

“Ok, ok. I remember.” You cut him off.

Iwa just smirks at you.

“Yeah I know you do.” He kisses back down to your neck and onto your collarbone. You tilt your head to give him better access as he leaves even more marks in his wake.

“Ahh, you like marking me up don’t you?”

“Well I have to make sure everyone knows that you’re taken now.” He bites down on your sweet spot and you groan. “That you’re all mine. And besides I don’t hear you complaining.”

“My only complaint is that we’re still dressed.” You say before quickly stripping yourself bare.

He lets out a moan at the sight of your naked body and follows your lead. He rids himself of his clothes, his hard cock slapping against his delicious abs.

You subconsciously lick your lips and give him a wicked grin.

“Looks like I was right about you having a huge cock.”

He just smirks at you before beginning his assault on your newly bared breasts. He nips and sucks at the soft flesh of one while his hand focuses on the other. He takes your hardened peak into his mouth, sucking and massaging it with his tongue.

Your hands find their way into his hair as you throw back your head in pleasure, you tug a bit at the strands which causes him to let out another little moan of his own. Soon he switches sides and lavishes your other soft breast in the same attention as the first.

You let one of your hands leave his hair and travel down his chest and abs, lightly dragging your nails along them before reaching his cock and giving it a few strokes. Iwa removes his mouth from your breast and bites down onto your shoulder, a deep moan bubbling up from his throat as you stroke him. You let out a few moans and pants of your own.

“You know I’m not the only one that people need to know is taken, right?”

“Oh is that so?” He chuckles.

“Yeah, I can’t have anybody else thinking they have a shot at getting you. So now,” you push him down so he is laying on his back and straddle him, “it’s my turn.” You say with a devious smirk.

He just raises an eyebrow, eyes glued to your dripping folds as you make your move. You press your pussy against the underside of his rock hard length, your lower lips parting allowing you to surround him in your wet warmth. You start gliding up and down his cock, coating him in your slick as copious amounts continue to drip from your hole.

“Oh fuck.” Iwa loudly groans as you continue to slide up and down his length.

You lean down, never stopping the rhythm of your hips, and kiss his lips before descending onto his neck. You lick, suck, and bite at the tender skin present there, making sure to leave your own visible marks. A loud moan escapes his mouth as you find his sweet spot and you begin sucking and biting down in earnest.

“Oh shit! Fuck!”

“Oh you like that do you?”

“Yeah I do.” He says as you leave another mark.

“Now everyone will see these and know you’re mine. I hope that won’t be a problem.” You smirk.

“It won’t be a problem at all, I want them to know. But now I hope you’re ready for the consequences of your actions.”

You raise an eyebrow as you look into his lust darkened eyes.

“What?”

“Well you’ve gotten me all worked up now, just like last night, and now I’m going to give you exactly what you asked for babygirl.”

You smile and you feel your pussy clench at the name. Before you can fully process his words, however, he has you flipped over with your face in the pillow, one hand pinning your chest to the mattress and the other gripping your hip hard. Aided by the large amounts of your slick, he easily glides into you despite his impressive girth and size.

“Oh fuuck Hajime.” You groan at the feeling of him stretching you and leaving you completely full. You were right about that too, he filled you up perfectly.

He pauses only for a moment or two before he starts thrusting into you, wet squelching sounds heard with each movement of his hips.

“Fuck! You feel so tight, the way you’re gripping my cock like that.” A loud rumbling moan comes from his chest and he gives your ass a slap causing your pussy to clench harder around his fat cock.

“Ungh, you’re making me feel so good, give me more.” You say with a deep moan.

“Whatever my babygirl wants.” He increases his force and speed, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing louder in volume within the small dorm room.

“Oh yesss!” You cry out as you brace yourself against the headboard. He digs his fingers into your hip harder as he continues his animalistic pace, you’ll have bruises there but you don’t mind it in the least.

“Uh ahh, I’m close.”

“Not yet babygirl, not yet.”

He pulls out of you which makes you whimper at the feeling of emptiness, your pussy fluttering around nothing. But it doesn’t last long as he flips you over again so that this time you’re on your back. He smirks down at you as you look up at him with heavy lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Gotta get deep inside you and fill you up with my cum, right? That is what you asked for.”

You give him a blissed out smile and nod as he lines himself up with your entrance and plunges inside. You let out a happy little shriek at the feeling of him being inside of you once more.

“I’m going to give you exactly what you want then babygirl, just relax. I’ll make you feel really good.”

He lifts your legs onto his shoulders and then leans over you, sweat glistening on his face and the warmth of his body heat radiating onto you, as he presses your knees to your chest. He establishes a rough but steady pace. The new angle letting him get even deeper, seemingly bottoming out with each snap of his hips. Every thrust has him rubbing against that sweet spot deep inside you making you see stars.

Your peak approaches even more quickly than before.

“Fuck, I’m so close Hajime. Harder, faster, you feel so fucking good!” You cry out.

He obliges your request and slams in and out of you with wild abandon. You grab onto his arms as you reach your unraveling. You scratch your nails down his biceps, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes over you leaving white spots dotting your vision.

You scream out his name and feel your walls milk his cock for every last drop.

Iwa lets out his own strangled cry, as he too reaches his end, shooting rope after rope of his hot cum deep inside you filling you up entirely.

He waits for his cock to stop twitching inside you before gently pulling out of you. He lays next to you and you cuddle up to him. He wraps his arms around you as you rest your arm across his waist. He gives you a sweet and tender little kiss to your lips as the two of you catch your breath.

“Are you ok? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Mmm yeah I’m ok, I’m a little sore and I might walk a little funny for the next couple of days but that was amazing. You’re amazing. You gave me everything I wanted and more.”

“Anything for you babygirl. You’re all mine now.” He says with an adoring smile.

He gives you a lingering kiss to your lips, loving and soft.

“I love you Hajime.” You say as you rest your head on his chest.

“I love you too, my beautiful girl.”

[passable-talent]

ya boi is back with a new niche character played by hayden christensen for yall to enjoy.

CW: blood, wounds, cursing, piercings, tattoos, guns, fighting, deaths of unnamed characters

AJ x gn!reader - Takers (2010). the stupid hat grew on me.

dedicated as always to @haydens-moles and @iscariot-rising for being my friends and for appreciating hayden as much as I do

The story of your life, as you loved to explain it, boiled down to a little math joke. Excited five, you called it, or it’s official terminology- five factorial. Written as “5!”, hence the awful pun.

“Factorials,” you’d say, “for those that don’t remember, are a multiplication of every number up to the one that’s being discussed. As such, five factorial is five, times four, times three, times two, times one.”

Your life, your excited five, was as follows: five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits.

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

In August, 2009, you got your ‘one’. Its a doozy. But we’re not there yet.

~~~

Five major scars.

December 25, 1983. It’s your first Christmas. Your parents think you’re just being a cranky infant, but something way more serious is going on- they find out the next day that you’ve got RSV, a respiratory virus that’s especially dangerous for infants. You spend the next three years periodically using a ventilator whenever the coughing acts up. You don’t remember much of it, other than the vaguely crayon-looking piece of the machine, but you can’t forget that it happened, due to the pretty white scar over the bridge of your nose. It’s not such a gnarly wound as it is a reminder- not of the ventilator that wore through your skin thanks to frequent use, but of the virus that almost took your life only a few months after it had begun.

July 28, 1993. You’re seven years old, staying at your grandmother’s house with your cousin, who’s six months older than you. You’re playing cops and robbers- he’s the cop. The forest streaks by as you run the length of the property, slightly faster than him, but he catches you and throws you down. You land on your back on a jagged rock, not only painfully impacting your spine but digging deeply into your muscles beside it. It was the first hospital visit you remember, and the dark, long scar halfway between your tailbone and your shoulders reminds you never to fall without controlling it.

January 15, 1998. You’re in sophomore year of high school, and not the most popular. You like to play by the rules, and some asshole junior decides that he doesn’t like the way you won’t let him cheat off of your trigonometry homework, and decides that a knife is the best way to settle the problem. Those homework answers weren’t worth the long white line over all four of the knuckles of your left hand, but it is a pretty little reminder that lowlifes do what they want. And law enforcement, or whatever your school called the ‘anti-bullying league’, does jack shit about it.

October 30, 2002. You’re almost done with your certification to become a cop- thank god. You couldn’t stand the people who were to become your graduate class. They were so ready to become cops just to bully people, just to get to weild an iron fist and hide their bloodlust behind the law. Not you- you’re here to do some real good. That’s what they don’t like about you. And that’s why Fred Young splits open your cheek when just he’s supposed to be practicing his sparring. It’s an ugly scar, needed six stitches, but it’s a reminder that even the cops aren’t always the good guys.

May 14, 2004. You’re a new cop, working under detective Wells. There’s a robbery of a jewelry store a few blocks from where you’re patrolling, and as you’re making your way to the scene, a man in a fedora runs smack into you, taking you both to the ground. Broken glass digs into your shoulder, but he apologizes, and his blue eyes look so genuine. He’s afraid. You’d not realize until a month later that he wasn’t a scared bystander, but in fact one of the thieves. The fifth of your scars matches your first meeting with AJ- who would, by the end of the summer, become one of the most important people in your life.

~~~

Four tattoos.

August 4, 1999- Left wrist, inside knob of the bone. The little symbol had represented something to you when you were sixteen, but it had long lost whatever meaning you’d given it. Now, it was just a pattern to pass your thumb over whenever you got restless.

February 16, 2002- The cap of the right shoulder. It was your bunk number, from when you were training to be a cop. Nothing extravagant, but it was supposed to represent the beginning of the rest of your life- it was supposed to represent your calling.

June 1, 2004- Left arm, the outside of the forearm. Bleeding from your first tattoo was a new one, the largest one on your body. It was geometrical and high contrast, black lines loosely following your veins up toward your elbow, as though that left hand was bringing darkness into your body. It did- you shot with your left hand.

July 17, 2004- Right collarbone. A single, circular monogram, made up of six letters.

T A K E R S.

~~~

Three piercings.

April 7, 1989. Your father took you to get your ears pierced, but insisted upon arrival that it was too expensive to get both done, so you only got your left. The assymetrical style would have to grow on you- at six years old, you hated it.

May 19, 2003. You couldn’t have piercings at the academy, they were unprofessional, they were dangerous. So the night of graduation, you went out and got a hole punched into your nostril- the pain made tears well up, but more than anything, it was the satisfaction of giving a pretty little ‘fuck you’ to your superiors, who you’d never see again.

July 18, 2006. AJ takes you to a fancy beauty salon for an eyebrow bar after hearing maybe once that you’d wanted another piercing. You knew you were in love with him- who else in your life had ever paid such close attention to you?

~~~

Two eyebrow slits.

June 23, 2004. You leave the police force. You tell Wells that it’s because you’re pissed you can’t find the guys that robbed the jewelry store, but that’s not even close to the truth. You’ve found them- hell, you got a good look at one of them on the very day of the robbery. But you’ve done the looking, and didn’t have the heart to bring them in. They had families. They donated ten percent of every heist to a charity. They did more for the community than the police you worked for, and they did it clean- they didn’t hurt anybody, if they didn’t have to. They did what you’d hoped to do, when you joined the force. What you’d never gotten to do. Eyebrow slits were considered extremely unprofessional, so the moment you were free of your two week notice, you split open your right eyebrow. It would give a good balance to the bar piercing you hoped to put through your left someday.

March 4, 2007. You’re cleaning up your slit when AJ walks into the room and stands behind you so that you can see him through the mirror. You keep your eyes on the trimmer you’re so delicately running over your skin, but when he opens up a little felt box with a pretty ring inside, you whirl around with such panic that you make the slit approximately half an inch wider than it should’ve been. Lilli helped you fill in the gap for the engagement photos, but you decided to keep a second slit on the other end of the unfortunate shave- a little reminder of the evening in which he proposed to you.

~~~

“The one is usually ignored,” you’d say, “as it makes no multiplicative difference. That’s why I don’t have a ‘one’.”

On August 27, 2009, you got your ‘one’.

You’d been out of the game for two years, choosing not to take a cut of the winnings. You’d advise, you’d plan, you’d set up, but you did not want to be on site when the heist went down. The boys had it taken care of, and you butted heads with Jesse far too often for anyone’s comfort.

You especially couldn’t work on this project, thanks to a little fucker named Ghost- he didn’t trust you, as a member of the Takers he’d never met, and you didn’t trust him, as a criminal you’d never grown to respect.

You knew that most of them didn’t trust Ghost either, but everything he brought forward checked out- AJ must’ve mumbled the plan thirty times in his sleep in the five days from its suggestion to its fruition. There were no holes. Knowing Gordon and John, they had some ‘insurance’ for Ghost, anyway. In case it went wrong.

Still, you stayed at the Hotel Roosevelt through it all. You were their sitter, keeping the hotel room warm and ready for their arrival. They arrived back one by one- and like usual, AJ got there first. He, Gordon, and John were usually the first to get out, but he always made it back to the room first, because that way he could get some time with you. That way, he could have a private reunion, fresh off of a job.

“Hey, baby,” he said as he closed the door, and you waited for him to turn his eyes to you before you gave him a smile. He threw down his bag onto one of the chairs, and it landed with a heavy thump, but you’d long grown used to the sound of the score. However much he pulled, good for him. You were just happy to slip your arms around his neck and feel him kiss the scar on your cheekbone before sliding his lips to yours.

He always kissed different right after a job- before the boys had all gotten back, before the total was counted. He had a confidence to his movement, but there was fear, insecurity, just a tinge. He wasn’t just a taker, he was a man, who had worries and risks just like every other man.

You were out of the game for a few reasons. They had it taken care of. You butted heads with Jesse. You didn’t trust Ghost. But you knew that you were AJ’s biggest fear- you knew that if you got hurt on a job, he’d never forgive himself.

So he kissed you, he held you close, he reminded himself that you were here, you were fine. His long fingers seems to take up half your back, and his hair was already in his face, as though you’d tugged it there yourself.

With just one more pass of your lips over his, you pulled away.

“How’d it go?” You asked with a soft voice, rolling your first finger through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Could’ve gone better,” he said with a chuckle, “but we got it done.” You heard a knock at the door, and Gordon was the next arrival- then John, then Jake, then Ghost. Jesse came last, and with him, a whole host of new problems.

A bullet splintered the door and caught AJ somewhere under the ribcage. Everyone hit the floor, diving behind couches, and you popped your head up long enough to see AJ launch over the kitchen island. The room shattered into gunfire and feathers from expensive pillows, glass shards littering the ground like raindrops. It all moved so fast, and the air exploded into noise. You could barely track AJ through it all, he was so far away, all the way across the room. And you wanted to keep your eye straight down the barrel of your gun.

“AJ!” Jesse called from beside you, hidden behind a brown leather couch, “You okay?” You looked around the side of it, and saw him ten feet from you, the longest ten feet of your life, behind the kitchen island. He was struggling, on his hands and knees.

“Get up,” you snarled, knowing he’d already taken a hit.

“Out the back!” John ordered from the doorway behind you, and you started to realize the moment, the dangerous, heavy moment. AJ was all the way across the room- he couldn’t cross it. Not with these mobsters holding ground.

“Let’s go!” Gordon shouted, and your eyes connected with AJ’s. He saw the same thing you did.

“Go,” he said, voice calm, and it cut through the chaos of the room, cut through every hardened lesson ever pounded into you, cut through every wall you’d ever built around you, around your heart. “I’m coming.”

AJ was a good liar. But he couldn’t lie to you.

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and you made a rash decision.

You’d always been good at gymnastics. You had strong control over the movement of your body, and had, ever since you’d learned from your cousin throwing you down onto that stone that split open your back. You could move and slink and roll and dive in ways that would keep you not only from falling, but even from being noticed.

Using the chaos as your cover, you did a tight diving roll across the room to him, slipping between shelters unscathed. This brought you just a bit closer to the mobsters, but further from the back door exit that Gordon had been trying to guide you toward. You’d chose AJ over your safety any day- the surprise and the fear in his eyes said that he wished you wouldn’t.

Making sure you had enough ammo, you considered your final move- this didn’t end until these mobsters did. There were five of them left, after all this commotion: four in the room, one in the hall. You couldn’t take all five, not with their guns being so much more than yours, but you could take out a few. You could shift attention, you could buy time.

And hopefully, you could stay breathing, too. That’d be nice.

“Stay down,” you hissed, leaving AJ behind the island where he’d be forgotten about, or assumed dead. Then, you rounded the corner and rolled to the feet of the closest mobster. As you came out of the roll you caught his legs in yours, wrenching them from under him and taking him to the ground with one of the first moves you’d learned in basic training. He hit the wall hard, and was unconscious by the time he landed- the same could not be said for his friends.

From your right, you could see Gordon, still firing, still hopeful for your and AJ’s escape. Your shoulders were above the couch, so you knew he saw as you turned your weapon to the second mobster before he could turn to you, and stopped his heart.

Your commotion had caught the attention of the other three who still remained. You whirled around and raised your gun to one of them, but they managed it first.

Gordon had to swallow back his horror as he saw a bullet enter the front of your side profile, and blood explode from the back. He took out the mobster who still had his attention on you- but your shoulders smacked to the ground outside of his view, and he closed the door.

Luckily, their aim was spotty. You now had a useless left arm, but you were still breathing. Not that you’d let the one remaining mobster notice that.

You and AJ played dead, only a few feet from each other, but the kitchen island becoming a thicker wall than any you’d ever been split by. As you stared blankly at the ceiling, taking shallow breaths hidden by the folds of your shirt, you hoped he didn’t think you were dead. You hoped he wasn’t bleeding out.

After what felt like agonizingly long minutes, the shooting finally stopped, and the door opened again. Gordon was the first to enter the room, and rounded the couch to you, grief in his eyes, expecting the worst.

But you could give him a smile.

“Surprise,” you groaned, and he lit up in relief, helping you sit up with your good arm.

“Look at you, playing dirty,” he said with a laugh, “I thought you were gone for sure.”

“AJ,” you heard Jake say from across the room, and finally AJ could sit up from where you’d forced him down. The two of you had both bled straight through your shirts, but there wasn’t any time for sweet reunions- everyone had to get out, and fast.

AJ left his car wherever it was. John gave the two of you a ride to the airstrip where Gordon was going to disappear for a while, and on the way you and AJ attempted to give each other first aid until the personnel on the plane could take care of it.

Eventually, you leaned against his left, and he against your right, your wounds still stinging and sticky with blood, but manageable, for as long as they needed to be.

The night didn’t get any easier, but that didn’t matter- you were home free, they’d managed the job, and Ghost was out of the picture, and neither of you were going to die.

And someday, when you felt brave enough to recount your near-death, near-loss, near-jailed experience, you’d say:

Five major scars, four tattoos, three piercings, two eyebrow slits. And one gun shot wound.

-🦌 Roe

[silveanna]

Nct 2020 + You as Class E

Y/N:

-Had bad records in your previous school and now you’re here

-plays around with ChenJi

-gives helpful advices to everyone

-likes to break the rules

-doesn’t get involve to gang fights cuz Taeyong did not allow you to

-you’re their precious little flower

-the boys have a lot of respect for you

-started a food fight once and got suspended

-“im like earth, already in a state of global warming”

Taeyong:

-the president

-always late

-is quiet and always frowning

-looks like he might suddenly punch someone

-but when you get to know him he’s actually

a nice person

-“I repeat, once you got in Class E, you’ll graduate as a student of Class E”

Kun:

-Class A banned you guys inside the cafeteria

-most of you are too lazy to cook your own food

-so Kun had to use his skills and cooks lunch everyday for his dear classmates

-the most decent

-always present

-the one who just watches when there’s a fight

-“I’m not giving you guys lunch for free, now pay up”

Taeil:

-looks innocent but not really

-always asleep

-would even sometimes sleeps on the floor and use his bag as a pillow

-easily catches up on the lessons/discussions

-“what’s our next class? homeroom? ok bye”

Johnny:

-the chill kid

-but when he gets angry u better run for your life bro

-the tallest so he sits at the very back of the room

-vibes with everyone

-damage to school properties is the main reason why he’s in the fam

-⚠️Don’t laugh AT him⚠️

-“not my problem”

Yuta:

-the arrogant one

-probably imagines beating the shit out of someone in his mind sometimes

-superior at sports

-paints his nails

-“I’m tired of seeing the same faces everyday”

Doyoung:

-The Vice President

-also a decent one

-is tired of taking care problematic dudes everyday

-doesn’t look like it but he’s a nerd

-is seatmates with Taeyong

-Cold af

-“shut up I’m trying to study here”

Ten:

-one of the moodmakers

-mocks his teachers

-always rest his foot on top of his table

-brings his pet cats to school

-puts big ass rocks inside his classmates bags

-“I just downloaded tiktok, follow me guys:)”

Jaehyun:

-the escort (duh)

-doesn’t give a fuck

-always a pageant candidate

-records the fights for ✨memories✨

-varsity player

-“can I go home now?”

Winwin:

-a very nice person

-became friends with you on the first day

-eats a lot

-shares his food with you

-“I only gave Y/N food! Why are you guys eating too?!!”

Jungwoo:

-a literal softie

-gets along with everyone

-the first one to be thrown in Class E

-others call him Zeus

-hides his classmates bag

-“I believe in hate at first sight”

Lucas:

-Chick boy

-also eats a lot

-but doesn’t like sharing his food

-no one wants to be smacked with that big ass hand

-steals pens

-“if you’re more handsome than me then she’ll probably choose you. Better luck next time bro”

Mark:

-got low grades and now he’s stuck with a bunch of intimidating guys who teases him everyday

-but he loves them

-is starting to adapt

-brings his guitar to school

-“wanna listen to some music?”

Xiaojun:

-plays games with yangyang at free time

-SMART

-goes with the flow

-jams with mark

-helps you with your math class

-“just tell me if you need help”

Hendery:

-looks normal but isn’t

-also a mood maker

-almost sets the school on 🔥

-lives at the same neighborhood with you, so he walks home with you sometimes

-“life is so hard I just want to be a fly”

Renjun:

-small but terrible

-likes astronomy

-would not hesitate to choke someone

-likes to tease others but when he’s the one being teased he gets angry

-doodles whenever he’s bored

-debates about the existence of aliens

-“i don’t want to live on this earth”

Jeno:

-also a varsity player

-the one who suddenly throws crumpled papers

-bad fingered his teacher

-plays with Ten’s Cats

-“If you want to rock, you gotta break the rules man“

Haechan:

-cHaOtic

-most likely to start a fight lol

-was caught stealing and now he’s in the family

-helps everyone cheat on their exams

-the only one who cleans the room

-“don’t worry I got you”

Jaemin:

-doesn’t like being called “nana”

-the super quiet one

-stays at the very corner of the room

-sleeps on the floor with taeil

-number one complainer

-“close the curtains, it’s too bright here”

Yangyang:

-the prankster

-drag racer

-makes fun of his hyungs 24/7 with haechan

-would step in a fight even though he doesn’t stand a chance at all

-just to protect his friends

-“Haechan! What’s the answer to number five test B?”

Shotaro:

-a cutie

-but a freaking gremlin like everyone else

-learns new tiktok dances with ten

-this boy may look innocent but in reality he beat up 5 grown ass men alone

-“^_^”

Sungchan:

-Class A’s president has a huge crush on him

-so he’s the only one allowed inside the cafeteria

-pretty chill

-looks up to Taeyong

-Hacker

-“I’m going to the cafeteria, does anyone want some snacks?”

Chenle:

-RICH KID

-🐬🐬🐬

-loud asf

-sings randomly

-“I kissed Class A’s president that’s why I’m here”

Jisung:

-sticks around with you all the time

-cuz he sees you as his older sibling

-adored by everyone

-got transferred in the wrong class but he likes it here

-“I baked cookies want one?”

Bonus:

It was a Normal day at NCTY High, you and sungchan were headed back to the classroom after being sent to detention. You bumped into a group of guys from Class D, half of them were smirking, the others glared at you and sungchan. It was strange to see them in a abandoned building since Class E is the only class who uses the building.

You and sungchan exchanged looks and shrugged.

Everyone was chaotic as always, you sat in your usual spot and chit chatted with the guys until Chenle started screaming and there’s fire crackers blasting everywhere making everyone left their seat and gathered at the very corner of the room.

Kun immediately opened the windows to let out the smoke, Doyoung and Taeil tries to calm everyone down but FAILS.

“WAAAHHH!!! We’re being attacked by terrorist!” Chenle screamed and hugged you, Jisung did the same.

“JOHNNY YOU’RE BIG ENOUGH! SHIELD US!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“WHERE’S XIAOJUN?!”

“I DON’T KNOW! MAYBE HE’S DEAD!”

“I CAN’T FIND MY CATS!”

You counted them all and noticed there was one missing aside from Xiaojun, PRESIDENT!

You looked around and saw Taeyong in his spot, idiot was still peacefully sleeping. “How could he even— Argh!” You reached for a book near you and threw it at Taeyong’s head. “WAKE UP YOU DOOFUS!”

Eventually he woked up and yawns, Taeyong cursed under his breath after he realized the situation. He came to you and also tried to calm the others down, Haechan hugged him from the back tightly “Pres! We’re all gonna DIEEE”

“Shut up! Doyoung! Get your ass over here!”

“Get a fire extinguisher! Quick!” He commanded.

“I can’t! The fire crackers are blocking our only exit, and I can’t jump off the window we’re on 4th floor” Doyoung explained, Taeyong couldn’t think and do anything but to face palm himself.

A cold breeze blows your skirt up midway, everyone stopped panicking and there was a figure at the door. It was Xiaojun, he was holding a fire extinguisher. Face almost covered with bruises Did Someone beat him up?. “Class D.. It was Class D!”

Knew it.

[harryskalechips]

This sucks Part 3

A/N Hiiiiii! Here is part 3! It’s a bit fat but I hope you enjoy 🥰

Word count 5644

Warning: Smut :))))

Part 1, Part 2

Flashback…

Vanilla, warmth, and little giggles were the best things Harry could wake up to and although, he couldn’t have it all the time - at Y/N’s apartment they were always available. 

A finger slowly drags itself across his face as he tries to hide his smile. Grazing from his nose to his cheeks to the outline of his soft lips. Muffled laughs fill the room as Y/N tries to wake him up. She bites onto her pillow as she tickles her boyfriend’s face. 

“Ouch!” She yelps as her boyfriend caught her finger in his mouth. He opens his eyes to find her beautiful hair sprawled out on the white pillow sheets. The light from her window  was shining through her curtains hitting the corner of their bed. He teasingly bites as he sucks on it while his eyes stare innocently at her.

A few seconds later, the wet digit falls from his lips as he moves closer to wrap his arm on his girl. His face finds a comforting position between her shoulder and her neck. 

“Waking me up love?” He murmurs as his mouth leaves wet kisses on her shoulder. 

“I love tracing your features. Sometimes I forget this real.” She turns over to face him. Her hand tracing his jaw this time. “You’re really pretty you know.”

“I think you’re prettier than me.” Harry leans in to kiss her. His hands gripping onto her waist as he tries to rub himself on her soft legs.

“Not true. You’re the best man that I’ve ever known.” She wasn’t lying. All her past boyfriends didn’t want to treat her right but somehow she found herself in bed with a man who seemed to actually care for her. Her hips involuntary move forward as he sits up a bit to hover over her. 

“Someone’s a little excited, don’t you think?” He licks his lips as he takes both of her hands and holds them above her. “Last night wasn’t enough baby?” 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” She glances down as she purposely bites her lip. She then looks up at him innocently. “Harry Jr. seems like he’s begging for more.” He laughs as he turns his head to the side to look at the window. 

“We should probably give him what he wants right?”

“Mhm.” He leans down to kiss her as she thrusts her hips forward.

“Fuck baby, look at you.”

Bzzz. Bzzz. ….. Bzzz. Bzzzz…..

Harry pulls away and gets off of her as Y/N sighs. She reaches the side of her nightstand to grab her phone. It’s her alarm. “I have to get ready for class.” She pouts as Harry palms himself.

“Maybe, you should stay in bed a bit longer. I won’t have you for long especially since you’re coming with me back to London next week.” He takes the blanket off of her so he can put it behind his back and throw it onto both of them. “See, now we’re both warm and we can get back to what we were doing.” He attempts to snuggle her. His mouth forming into a smile as he almost feels her body relax back into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby. You may be a pop star but I need to get a degree.” She kisses his lips as she gets up from the bed. Harry watches her as she takes his hoodie from last night and puts it on. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast while you help Harry junior.” She awkwardly makes guns with her fingers as she walks back to open her bedroom door.

“Or you can come here and watch me. Better yet, help me out.” He smirks as he leans forward to pull her back to bed. “Don’t need to make breakfast if I got my meal right here.”

~

When Harry was younger during his days in One Direction, They took some time in every country to explore a bit. He found himself in this old family vintage store with Niall during their time in Japan of 2013. As they looked at some of the things they sold, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the little treasures that people forgot about. He was walking through the opposite aisle where his mate was when his eyes caught sight of the red strings that were hooked onto the wall. He didn’t know what they were but his hand couldn’t help but intertwine itself into the strings.

“You like that?” The old lady slowly walks to him as she grips onto the shelves to help herself walk. “That no buy. Therefore decoration.” Harry immediately pulls away as he tries to hide his embarrassed face from her. “You know what it’s about?” She smiles at him as she touches the strings too. “It’s the red thread of fate.” Harry looks at her with a confused facial expression. 

“The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances… this magical thread…” She struggles to translate her thoughts into English for this young man. “May stretch or tangle but it will never break.”

Ever since that trip, Harry couldn’t forget that myth in that little shop. Maybe, the old lady was bullshitting him but he couldn’t get rid of that thought. The thought of having a soulmate. It was the hopeless romantic side of him that believed his girl was there waiting for him and no matter where he is or what happens… he will find her. Y/N. The girl he met as he was buying coffee close to Columbia Records’ building. 

It was an accident when she turned around too quickly to only pour her $5 coffee on him. Being a gentleman he is, he bought her a new cup of coffee as they walked alongside each other to a secluded bench off a trail they found themselves on while at the park. 

But as time kept moving forward, his heart began to mend again after feeling death on his shoulders for the past year. 

It was now, December but more importantly, it’s been exactly a year since he met her. He could barely survive his tour without her but now that it’s been a long while, he knew too well that nothing could happen. What happened to her being his soulmate? He obviously took her for granted and now she’s gone. All he has left is his beaten up journal with loose papers sticking out as it gathers dust on his piano. 

“Should I leave?” A raspy feminine voice interrupts his thoughts as he takes his gaze off his piano and onto the girl wearing his shirt. 

“Yeah. Take off my shirt too.” He sips the hot liquid into his mouth as he holds onto the handle of his mug. “Put it in the laundry basket.” He eyes her as she walks back into his room. He had just finished his tour for Fine Line and now that his schedule was free, he had some spare time on his hands. Especially to play around with Eva.

He doesn’t love the girl. No way! but he does get lonely some nights and instead of calling the number he knows by heart, he forces his finger to tap another one. 

~

It doesn’t snow in Los Angeles but Y/N always found herself craving a cup of hot coffee from Blitzers during times like these. It wasn’t the cliche feeling of having a warm cup in her hand as she walked through the snow instead, she used it as her drug. During her time in University, caffeine was the only thing that got her moving. She graduated last June and now she is finding herself nervous as hell after having one of her many interviews at another stupid corporation. She takes her cup from the counter as another name is called. 

“Hershell?”

“Sorry to bump into you, love.” A man bumps into her shoulder as he tries to grab his drink while she tries to walk away. He was wearing his shades and the hood of his hoodie was on as he made a perfectly criss-cross tie in the front with the strings. She glanced at him quickly and gave him a nod as she continued walking out of the shop. Was that him? 

“Y/N.” The familiar voice calls her out as she turns around to smile at him. Harry held the door for another customer entering and soon let’s go.

“I was wondering if that was you in there.” She eyes the iced coffee in his hands.

“Long time no see.” He walks towards her. As he stood 4 feet from her, he hid his hand in his pocket while he observed her. He truly thought he would never see her after his show in September but somehow the first visit back to this coffee shop, his eyes already caught her figure as she bumped into him… again. Her hair grew longer and it seemed like she dyed the ends. She was holding onto her cup of coffee as she had her purse in another. A pink lip and a business sort of like outfit.

“You graduated right? Where are you working now?” He takes a sip of his cold drink. Luckily, his shades covered his eyes. He was almost embarrassed just by remembering their last encounter. Remember when you begged for her like a pathetic dog and she still rejected you?

“Oh, I’m applying for a couple of jobs. I never knew you still get your drinks here.” Y/N switches the subject quickly. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that she wasn’t good enough for any of the businesses here. 

“Yeah um, I actually just finished the last leg for my tour this year. I was just craving some coffee after having a meeting from work.”

“Cool.” She bites her lip as she pretends to be in shock after looking at her watch. It wasn’t even working. She hasn’t replaced the batteries in 7 years! “Look H. I have to go. It was nice seeing you.” She was scared to lean in and hug him. 

“Alright bye.” He purses his lips as he watches her turn around. “Catch you next time.” What? Why would you say that? You haven’t seen her for 8 months nor do you have her number!

It was weird to see her walk away from him again but this time it was as if those four months of dating meant nothing to them. There were no tears in her eyes or his. Instead, they’re in the busy streets casually bumping into each other and bidding farewell as if they hadn’t cried their hearts out the last time. 

~

“You saw him again and the first thing you do is attempt to cut the conversation short?” Jenna sits in front of Y/N in their booth as they wait for their plates to arrive. “Babe, remember last time we spoke? You missed him.” Her hand takes Y/N’s across the table. They’ve been best friends since the first year of Uni and despite the new stage in their lives, they chose to keep in touch. 

“Jenna, he looked good.” Y/N rests her head on the table. She looks up to the girl and pouts. “He had his hood on and his sunglasses but the way he called out for me when he exited the shop…. He’s moved on.”��

“First off, you told him to move on. He was crying on his knees begging you to be with him in September. Lastly, what do you mean just by the way he called you out? How do you know he’s over you?”

“I don’t know. He just sounded okay.” Y/N sits up and rests her chin on her hands. “He went through his 7 stages of grief while I chose to just forget about it.”

“Karma is a bitch huh? Now you want him back?” She laughs a bit. “Look Y/N, you can’t let yourself be stubborn your whole life. If you know what you want. Take it. Stop being so scared. Now, Harry’s gone and you lost one of your chances to be in a happy relationship with a great guy.”

“He’s probably with some other girl now.”

“So what? If you can’t have him at least try to keep in your life. He made you happy.” Jenna’s eyes look behind Y/N to see their food coming. “Now let’s eat. I have to tell you all about my desk buddy at work. He’s a total cutie.”

~

As Y/N was walking the stairs to her apartment, she noticed Jim her landlord standing in front of her door. He was a nice guy. His family lived on the first floor and during the holidays, he would always deliver some homemade curry his wife made while she exchanged her own signature dish for them to enjoy. 

“Hey, Jim.” She smiles. 

“Hello Y/N, I know it’s late but I wanted to remind you about your bills. I know this whole year has been a struggle but I was hoping you would get a job by now and pay them.”

“I know I’m sorry. I promise I’ll give you my rent for this month just give me an extra few weeks.” She sighs. Don’t misunderstand. She was able to pay her rent every month it just took her a couple of weeks every time to get the money in. Now, that she has student debt and no job, it was more of a struggle. Funny thing is as much Harry adored her homey apartment, he had no idea she was struggling to pay for the place. He just assumed it was school stressing her out but maybe that’s why Y/N needed a reason to take a break from him. It was hard to focus on getting money while your boyfriend just threw money in the air for fun. 

She needed a job and she needed one right now.

“Hello?”

“Hey Glenne, I need a favour.” 

~

“Harry, you never know taking this brand deal may do you good.” Jeff parks the car in front of Glenne’s building. He always picked her up from work and today after having lunch with Harry, he decided to bring him on the ride. 

“I know but I was thinking of taking a break from the cameras.”

“And write new music? You have a thousand of those in your journal.”

“Anything that was written about Y/N, won’t be recorded for anyone to listen publicly.” He shakes his head as he leans back in the seats. He was sitting in the back since Glenne was obviously going to sit with her boyfriend. But those songs he wrote for Y/N was his only evidence that what happened between them wasn’t a fling. Despite being together for four months, it was intense and real. 

“Hey, babe!” Glenne opens the door to sit down and kiss him. “Harry fuck! I didn’t know you were with him.” She turns around to see Harry, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff questions as Glenne looks out her window with anxiety. 

“I offered Y/N a ride home. She had an interview with my boss today.” Harry’s eyes widen. Holy shit. Was he going to see Y/N regardless if he went to the coffee shop or not. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jeff looks at Harry then at his girlfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell me you brought H with you!” She was cut off as Y/N opens the back door.

“Hey Je- Oh! Hi Harry.” She smiles and sits down in the car. Glenne can already imagine Y/N choking her the next time they see each other alone. 

“Hey Y/N. Sorry, I brought Harry along, we just had lunch together.” 

“That’s alright.”

“We’ll drop you home first and then H,” Glenne reassures Y/N as Jeff drives out of the lot. 

“Hey.” Harry looks at Y/N. He smiles softly biting his cheek. He was nervous as fuck as he sat very closely to her. She smiles back and decides to talk to Glenne for the rest of the ride.

“Your boss offered me a job.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” she turns back to smile at her. “You deserve it!”

“Thanks!”

~

After twenty minutes of driving and catching up, Jeff’s car pulls up to a familiar building Harry and Y/N knew too well. Back when they were dating, he used to cover his face walking into her apartment at night. Now, he stayed in his friend’s car just looking at it. 

“Thanks for the ride guys.” Y/N opens the door to get out. “Bye Harry.” She waves at him as she steps out. Harry just looked at her as she closed the door. They watched her step into the building before driving off again. 

“Can you stop the car?” Harry blurts out as Jeff waits for the cars to clear so he can turn onto the road and off the property. 

“Harry.” Glenne looks at him in pity. “Don’t tell me what I think you’re doing.”

“I have to.”

“You’re right.” Jeff unlocks the doors and glances at his friend. “Go talk to her.”

His heart was beating fast. Faster than ever this past year. “Thanks, mate.” He smiles at the guy who looks at him in surprise. It was Jim who just so happened to be watering the plants in the lobby. Harry opens the door to the stairwell and runs 4 flights of stairs to Y/N’s floor. He would’ve used the elevator but after a whole year, he knew better that it still wouldn’t be fixed.

Knock knock…

Y/N somehow had managed to change in a pair of shorts and a shirt as soon as she came home today. Her plan was to drink a couple of glasses of wine tonight in celebration of finally getting a job.

“Harry?” She opens the door in shock to see him panting. He was wearing his black jeans and a regular band tee. 

“Hi, I was thinking if we could talk.”

“Alright come on in.” She opens the door wider for him. He looked around her apartment to see how nothing has changed. It still looked the very same. It still smelled the same. All he was wondering if she has changed.

They sit on the couch as Y/N grabs another wine glass for him. “I know it’s a bit early but I was planning on drinking in celebration of today.”

“I know. Congratulations by the way.” 

“Thanks.” She pours him a bit and some for herself. It was just about 5 PM and a little drink wouldn’t hurt. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” He looks at her as he talks a bit more slowly now. It almost seemed like a dream to be here again. “I had to ask Jeff to stop his car so I can be here. I just thought that maybe we should catch up.” 

“Oh… true.” she takes a sip of her wine. Was there a possibility that Harry still thought of her. She knew he was too good for her. How could he? He deserves someone better. But she promised herself after walking home from dinner with Jenna, that if this offered ever came up again... she would take it. 

“I thought you had a car?” He looked around in the picture frames. He didn’t know what her boyfriend looked like but he wondered if they were still together.

“I actually uh sold it to get some money.” It was true. She had so many part-time jobs as a student that she simply burnt out after graduation. She was exhausted and the only thing she could do to earn a couple of months off was selling her car.

“Oh.” Harry looks at her in pity. “You loved that sedan though.”

“It was shit anyway and it’s not like my mom would give me some money if I even asked.” Harry knew the broken relationship between Y/N and her mother. It wasn’t a surprise that on the plane ride to London, Y/N was too excited to meet his. 

“Doesn’t your boyfriend give you rides?” He puts his wine glass down as he sits beside his ex-girlfriend. He likes to befriend his exes especially if they ended on good terms but it never numbs down the pain he felt. 

For Y/N, she was different. Maybe he wanted to befriend her but there was obviously that little feeling of wanting her back. Yes, he knows he said he was over her. He said it multiple times as he sat in the seat in front of his bed as Eva slept in his sheets. But somehow, seeing her again made his mind cloudy and his heart itchy. Too selfish and tempted to get back what was once his.

“We broke up in October. He uh cheated on me.”

“What the fuck? Are you okay?” Harry frowns as he sits up a bit more. 

“It’s fine.” She laughs as she places her glass back on her table. “I wasn’t that into him. He was way too jealous about things.” Harry raises his eyebrows for her to continue. “He was jealous of you asking me to go backstage.” She confesses as she rolls her eyes. 

“Please he would beg to leave the room if he knew what was truly going on in there.” It was screaming and crying and a bit of kissing. The worst nightmare a boyfriend could imagine.

“I know.” she laughs at his comment. “How about you? You have a girlfriend or something?”

“No.” He wasn’t technically lying but… he also kind of was. Eva wasn’t his girlfriend -just a fuck buddy. “Haven’t dated anyone after you.” She smiles at him. Truly the wine was kicking into her but she wasn’t drunk, she just had the confidence she needed.

“I miss you.” she murmurs as she lays her head on the couch staring at him. His lips still looked as soft as ever. He had a bit of facial hair but it honestly turned her on a bit more. She hasn’t had sex since 9 months ago. It wasn’t that Robbie and she didn’t try to do that stuff. They simply just weren’t in that stage of their relationship yet especially, when he was getting it somewhere else.

“I miss you too.” He bites his lip. He never expected Y/N to be this outgoing. He expected they would have a chat, become friends again and leave it there. 

She leans in to kiss him as her hands rest on his cheek. She wasn’t going to lie. Kissing him back in September gave her butterflies the same way as it is right now. He ushers her to straddle him as his hands hold onto her waist. She slowly rubs herself on him as he moans, kissing down her neck. 

“Baby, I missed this.” He whispers as he pulls himself away from her to only find her lips again. He kissed her with all the passion burning in him. She was moaning, fighting for dominance as their tongues fought back and forth but Harry knew just want to do when she started acting this way. He took his right hand and gripped on her chin to open her mouth a bit wider so he can kiss her more. Her hands rested on his shoulder as she continued to rub herself on him. 

“Still a needy girl. Aren’t you love?” 

“I just really missed you.” 

His hands hold onto the back of her thighs as he carries her off the couch and into her bedroom. Her sheets were different but overall, it still looked the same and that made Harry very happy.

“Why are you smiling?” She takes her mouth off his neck to see him looking at her room.

“I just missed this place.” He throws her on the bed as he pulls off her shorts with her panties. She moves a bit as he takes off his shirt. She almost gasped as she watches his arms flex to pull the tee off of him. She missed his tattoos and his soft chest. The same body she would cuddle as she fell asleep after studying for a fat exam. “Fuck, you look so good.” He licks his lip as he urgently unzips his jeans. He frustratingly pulls at the ends of his pants while balancing himself. Why did he wear jeans today????

Y/N watches him as she takes off her shirt and starts playing with her breast. “You’re taking a bit long there? Don’t you think?” He looks at her with his mouth open in shock. 

“Fuck it.” He pulls one last time to get his pants off and fortunately it was a success. He walks on his knees as he approaches her kissing her one more time before dipping his tongue in the center of her chest. His hands playing with her nipples as he slips his tongue lower and lower until they reach her needy core.

“Harry.” She bites her lip as she thrusts her hips forward. He smirks as his lips attach themselves on her thighs, sucking on it and biting on each side. He wanted to leave a mark on her. He needed to.

“Fuck!” She moans as her fingers rest in his hair. 

“Tug on it, baby. Let me know you miss me.” He licks her centre greedily as he murmurs against her. He’s trying his best not to rub himself on her sheets but he missed her too much. Her centre was wet… too wet. His fingers were slipping in too easily as he fucked her like that. It almost was too much for her to handle as she sat up and pulled away.  “Are you okay?” He licks his fingers and holds on to her thighs. Was she starting to regret this? He needs her back. He wants her back. Why can’t she want the same thing?

“Lay down.” She pants as she moves over so he can lay on the pillows. He rests himself on his elbows as he watches her take him in her mouth. 

“Aw baby. Fuck I miss your mouth. You take me so well.” He watches her mouth wet his dick as his chest heaves up and down. His mind was clouded with her. Her only. He forgot everything else in the world as if he wasn’t abusing alcohol earlier this year. 

She gags on him as her hands play with his balls. He begins to thrust his hips forward before stopping almost immediately. “Can I fuck your mouth baby.” He groans as she looks at him innocently before nodding. His hand holds her hair into a makeshift ponytail as he thrusts his hips forward and harder. The sound of her choking makes him harder.

“Good girl.” He pulls off her and carries her to where he was laying beforehand. “Let me go get a condom.” He was about to get off the bed when Y/N holds onto his wrist. 

“I’m on birth control and if- you haven’t been with anyone for a while maybe we can…” His mouth waters as he leans down to kiss her. 

“I’ve been with only one other person and I’ve always used protection.” She couldn’t help but pout at him. Was he seeing someone else at the moment? What were they doing? She began to sit up as Harry shook his head. 

“No no, please. I’m not dating her or anything. I’ve only been having sex with her. I love you, please. I need you.”

“Can you not talk about her?” Y/N snaps as she drops her head on the pillow. He leans down to kiss her on the lips before moving his lips to her neck. 

“We’ll talk about her later but I’m telling you now -I want you so badly. I’ve been missing for a whole year now and I’ll drop everything for you.”

She closes her eyes as he bites on her earlobe. “Who said anything about me fucking her good? I have never eaten her out. Never left my marks on her. I never pulled her hair and choked her until she cried out of pleasure. Baby, that’s all for you and I’ll make sure after tonight, I’ll have you back in my arms.” He sucks on her nipples as he positions himself and thrusts in her. He takes a deep breath as she continues to close her eyes and scratch his back. He could feel her heart beating fast as he thrusts a bit harder.

“You okay bub?” He kisses her neck as she nods.

“You’re so big and I can fucking feel you in my stomach.” She laughs as she accidentally clenches her walls on him.

“Uh, babe.” He bites her shoulder. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while.” He smirks and licks a stripe of her neck. 

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re still as tight as I remember.” He smirks at her. “Pussy so good I was heartbroken when you left me.” Y/N rolls her eyes as he continues to thrust into her making her begin to moan louder. 

The night carried on as he fucked her and how she fucked him. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They were sure to leave a dent on her wall due to her bed frame bumping into the wall every so often. 

But as much as they laid in each other’s arms, they still had an outstanding problem of what they were now. and it wasn’t long until that problem said peek a boo once again.

~

Happy. Happy Harry was. It’ was just about Christmas and he had a gift in his hand as he walked the stairs towards Y/N’s apartment. Lately, he’s been spending time with her. It was as if those 8 months no longer meant a thing to him. H made sure to visit Y/N during work, drop her off and pick her up. He made sure to cuddle her to sleep and most importantly he called Eva the day after he and Y/N reconnected. He made sure to make things clear-that he no longer wanted to play games with her and that they were over. 

Although it made Y/N a bit jealous he was sleeping with a pretty girl when they broke up, Harry made sure to fuck the jealously right out of her so the only thing she could do now was to roll her eyes. She wasn’t mad at him just a bit insecure but Harry reassured her, he only began a fling with Eva in the beginning of November. It was never serious. 

“Merry Christmas.” He smiles gleefully as he flashes the small Cartier gift bag to her.

“Harry, that better not be for me.” Her eyes were in shock. He shakes his head and wraps his arm around her waist as he kisses her. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too but you shouldn’t give me that.” After meeting Harry’s family and finally started seeing him again, she was scared his family would still think of her as a gold digger. She didn’t want to talk about it with Harry. She was really hurt when she heard that. 

“I bought it for you.” He locks the door and takes her wrist as they sit on her couch once again. Y/N had no family members and she was planning on spending Christmas with Glenne and Jeff or maybe Jenna but now Harry is back. Harry had nowhere to go either since he’s been avoiding his family for the past year. Now they decided to just spend Christmas together and catch up.

“Here.” He gives her the bag as she opens it. It was their signature love bracelet with diamonds on each side. Y/N began to cry as she looked at the bracelet. 

“Harry…”

“I want you to have it.” He takes the bracelet and puts it on her. “You look so pretty.” He smiles cheekily at her as she wipes her tears away. 

“We were supposed to give our gifts later but you’re too excited.” She sits up and picks up a rectangular box underneath the tree. “Here’s yours.”

He kisses her and takes the gift in his hands. As he opens the gift wrapping paper, there were a bunch of papers folded and underneath was a brand new journal that looked exactly like the one resting on his piano. 

“Read those letters on your own time!” Y/N’s cheeks turn red. “I bought you a new journal after you desperately ripped papers out of your old one.” She laughs as she plays with her nails. “You need one of those and I thought maybe a new one for the new year. For new beginnings.”

“I love you!” He tucks the notes in his new journal as he leans forward to kiss her a bit more longer. “So much baby, so much. you know I’m not letting you go anymore right?” Y/N smiles as he kisses her nose and her cheeks.

“I love you more H. Now, I have one more request and I was hoping you would allow it to happen.”

“What is it bub?” She grabs his phone beside him and takes it in her hands. 

“I was wondering if we could call your family and greet them?” His heart softens as he looks at her. He nods at her without another word as she searches for Anne’s name. The ringing was the only thing heard until Anne’s voice picked up.

“Oh my God, my baby boy!” 

and at that moment as Harry watched Y/N smile as he spoke to his mother, he knew he found the one. Y/N wasn’t mad anymore about what happened in London. She wished that trip ended another way but she found the goodness in her heart to let Gemma and Anne’s comments go. She hated the fact that Harry stopped talking to them. She had no family anymore and she doesn’t want Harry to feel that way anymore.

As the call ended, Harry’s eyes were wet as he looked at his phone. He haven’t heard from his mum this past year. And Anne made it clear that she wants to visit them two and make peace with Y/N. Harry became in asshole when he broke up with Camille but for some reason, when he broke up with Y/N, he fell apart. The only thing that Harry was thinking about now was what Anne said to him in the call. 

Are you two dating again? You better ask her or she might slip through your fingertips again. She’s a beautiful girl, Harry. I’m sorry about what Gemma and I said. Bless her soul that she encouraged you to call me. I missed you baby, you’ll always be my son.

Harry’s heart was beating fast. This was the problem. He knew he could only spend a few weeks with before this question came up. He was scared to ask her. What happens if they break up again? What happens if she says no?

“What’s wrong H?” She brushes his hair out of his face. Throughout the 10 minute phone call, she sat there listening to them catch up. Harry offered the phone to her but she wanted the mother and child to talk.

“I’m scared uh you might say no but I have a question.” He puts his phone down and takes her hand. “I was wondering if you would be my girlfriend again. I promise you I’ll treat the best I can. I want to make you happy. I want to travel the world with you and just love you.” He squeezes her palm. 

“Alright.” She nods before flashing a sweet smile. “I’m your girlfriend again.” Harry’s eyes sparkle as he kisses her and picks her up. He swings her in his arms before carrying her back into her bedroom. 

The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break.

Y/N was his soul mate because she made him the happiest he could ever be and the saddest too. Despite their relationship starting out once again… this time she was trying and they were both more serious about fighting for each other- they were more confident in their love. No one can break them apart this time… after all, it was a new year.

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Two Points Higher | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 5380

A/N: I started binging Criminal Minds last week and I’m already on season 5... Spencer Reid is precious and my asexual heart needed some platonic fluff so I wrote it myself. 

Warnings: fluff, interrogation, mentions of murder

Having Spencer Reid show up at your office was not an unusual occurrence. Having Spencer Reid show up at your office in the middle of the night with another FBI agent on his heels was.

“See I told you they’d be here,” Spencer almost tripped over a box of records by the door with the speed of which he burst in.

“I get it, I’m married to my job,” you rolled your eyes, not looking up from your computer, “what’s up?”

“(y/n), this is Agent Derek Morgan,” he gestured to the man behind him as he spoke. Spencer pulled up his usual chair in front of your desk and started rummaging in his bag.

“If you can find a seat you’re welcome to take it,” you smiled at Morgan, who was watching Spencer intently.

“We need your help,” Spencer pulled out a stack of photos.

“Spence, I have work to do,” you chided, though you pushed aside what you were working on to take the photos from him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Please?”

“You’re not really asking,” Agent Morgan finally cracked a smile at your comment, “I don’t see how I can help you though, these are neat crime scene photos but I’m not in the FBI.” As you observed the images Spencer stood up again, haphazardly pulling books off of your shelves and piling them on his now vacant seat.

“You missed it. Look again,” you scanned the images again, scrutinizing every detail. This time you noticed it, pulling each image closer to your face to really take in what you were seeing.

“Those are my labels. Why are my labels on human bodies?” Spencer pulled one last book off the shelf and started thumbing through it.

His voice was soft this time, as his eyes met yours, “we don’t know.”

You didn’t normally see Spencer when he was working a case like this, something about him seemed different.

“How can I help?”

“The rest of the team is on the way. Have you talked to anyone about your collections recently? Told them how you label and research?”

“The only one I’ve talked to about it is you, but it’s not exactly an industry secret. Anyone who has looked at the exhibits has seen my labels, people just don’t usually care about them.”

Spencer and Morgan exchanged a look, then Morgan stepped out to make a phone call while Spencer filled you in on the next course of action. The rest of the team would be using your office as a field station while they tried to figure out why the unsub would make exact copies of  your labels.

“Have you known Reid long?”  A blonde woman who Spencer introduced as JJ asked.

“Since preschool,” you recalled.

“(y/n) was the only other kid in class who could read,” Spencer commented from the adjoining collections room where he was poking around for signs of entry.

“Spencer was the only other kid in class who could remember dinosaur names, we made quite the pair until he graduated.”

“You only graduated two years after me.”

“Enough to get you ahead by two doctorates and a bachelors,” you shot back.

“What’s in the water over in Vegas?” Morgan commented, shooting Spencer a look when he started rattling off the exact contents of the water and how it definitely did not affect the development of your brains.

It was already the early hours of the morning, so it was decided that any investigating would wait until a more reasonable hour. The team mostly acquainted themselves with your space, finding places to work, sleep, or follow up on leads. Even Spencer was moving around, restlessly conversing with his colleagues. You kept to yourself at your desk, busying yourself with the bone you were looking at. The research was comfortable, though the background noise wasn’t.

“You should get some sleep,” Spencer said quietly to you after a few hours, leaning over your shoulder to observe the notes you were making. It felt oddly normal, considering the circumstances.

“I’m on to something here, I want to finish this first,” you turned to the next page in your notebook.

“I’m going to go nap in the other room then, wake me up if you need anything, ok?” you looked up at him with a soft smile and nodded. He went into the break room across the hall, laying down on the old couch. You watched after him for a minute then turned back to your work. A few minutes later, JJ sat down in front of your desk.

“Do you spend a lot of time together?”

“If he’s not working with you, he’s with me. I’m almost always here which is why he knows where all of the good sleeping spots are,” you smirked.

“What are you working on?”

“We don’t have any records on this bone, so I do the research and get as much information as I can about it. My official title is ‘Collections Curator’ but Spencer says I’m just as much a profiler as he is.”

“Have you ever thought about joining the Bureau?”

“Spence tried to convince me… once,” you chuckled lightly at the memory, “I like my job, it’s a lot lower stakes than what you do. I don’t need a gun, just some research material and my brain.”

“It does seem… still down here,” JJ observed.

“Our collections are stored down here so it’s all climate controlled. These rooms were free so I asked if I could trade my upstairs office for a collections research suite. Did you know that 80% of a museum’s collection isn’t displayed? The exhibits you see upstairs are only 20% of the entire collection,” you stopped talking when you noticed a change in her expression, “sorry, I’m rambling.”

JJ smiled kindly, “I can see why you’re friends with Reid.”

“I don’t know what I would have done without him growing up. It’s easier to be a kid genius when there’s another kid to be a genius with, makes you feel less alone. He’s always been more competitive though, tougher, too.”

“Why am I not surprised you’re also a genius?”

“I try not to flaunt it, unlike Spencer. If it wasn’t for his eidetic memory we’d have the same number of degrees,” you smirked.

“He’s different with you,” Morgan had stepped into the room and was poking through your stuffed shelves.

“Like I said, it’s easier to be a genius when you have someone else who gets it. Spencer and I don’t talk about what you do in the field, but I see what he looks like when he comes back from traveling. I do my best to make this a space where he can be a genius without all the crime and someone that he can just be himself with.”

“Having a support system is good. He needs one.”

“You said he’s different with me, but he’s also different with you. His behavior is consistent with when he was trying to plan a surprise for my birthday last year, except its a stressful secret not an exciting one.”

“I need to hear the birthday story later, when this is all over. You’re good at noticing details,” Morgan commented. You noticed the way both Morgan and JJ shifted nervously.

“I have to be, that’s how I do my research. One detail can open up a whole string of possibilities, but you all know that. At first I thought it just had to do with him being in the middle of a case, I’ve only seen him a handful of times when he’s working.”

“But?” Morgan’s question was leading, they knew you knew they were hiding something.

“This is the first time he’s ever come into my office wearing his gun.”

There was a pause during which you noticed both agents’ eyes soften.

“I’m no FBI agent, but if dead bodies were showing up with museum labels specific to one curator I would start by questioning the curator. None of you have acted like I’m guilty at all. Why?”

“Reid gave us your alibi and confirmed it all in one breath. The local police still want to bring you in, but they’re having trouble finding you. Reid knew where you were and wanted to get ahead of them, solve this before you were falsely accused.”

“They probably ended up at my apartment. I spend most of my time here, but I keep that lease for storage and other things. Not many people know I practically live here. Do either of you want coffee?” you took off the latex gloves you were wearing as you stood up. They shook their heads with a murmured ‘thanks’.

They started whispering behind you as you walked across the hall to the room where your best friend was spread out on the couch. You paused as you passed him, gently brushing a piece of hair from his face before continuing on to the kitchenette. Leaning against the counter, your gaze fell once again on Spencer as you waited for the coffee to brew. He slowly stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before standing up and joining you by the counter.

“You’re still working?”

“Have to make progress on my own projects while we’re waiting, before your case consumes my workday,” you bumped your elbow into him.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Hey, someone is using my specimen labels for murder victims. That’s not ok, my labels should be for museum collections only. I appreciate you telling me. I don’t appreciate whatever secret you and your team are keeping from me.”

“It’s characteristic for unsubs like this to have a fantasy… an unhealthy idolization that’s expressed in the victimology,” he stuck his hands in his pockets nervously. You thought for a minute as you poured a cup of coffee for yourself and your best friend.

“You think the unsub fantasizes about me.”

“We don’t know for certain. Two of the victims seem random, but three of them have an uncanny resemblance… and the labels…”

“Is that why you came to my office instead of just calling me for more information?” you leaned into his side, gripping your coffee.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. You live your life and I live mine,” you took a sip of your drink.

“You only leave this basement to buy groceries and do laundry. Statistically you’re only seen by a small fraction of people in this city and somehow you’ve been targeted by someone who’s now going around killing people.”

“Statistically, the unsub could have seen anyone who lives in this city, including me. It’s not your fault,” you repeated, “you could have told me though, genius.”

Spencer cracked a tired smile, “didn’t want to scare you more than necessary.”

“You’re a better person than me.”

“You’re smarter than me,” he retorted.

“That’s why you’re a better person. That’s how you can do the job that you do. If I had to interact with strangers every day I’d implode.”

“Spontaneous implosion isn’t possible,” you rolled your eyes at his comment. Before you could respond he spoke again, “I love you.”

His words caught you off guard, not because you didn’t return the feeling but because they never needed to be said. You knew from the way his eyes lit up when he read your notes and how he always made you another coffee when he got one for himself. You had spent practically your whole lives together and you genuinely cared about him in a way you knew was reciprocated. You considered this boy family more than most of your blood relatives. Still, with everything going on it had to be said.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

You stood with his arms around you until the coffee in your hands went cold.

“I need to make sure your friend Derek isn’t messing up my office. Sorry I woke you up,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping away. When you made it to the hallway you started walking down towards the largest collection room instead of your office.

“Agent Hotchner? Do you have a minute?” You knocked on the doorframe of the large room that the agent had set up in.

“Of course, is everything ok?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Spencer. I know he’s supposed to be protecting me, but he’s also my best friend. He would put himself in danger- he’s expecting to put himself in danger for me. With all due respect, sir, I know you’re trying to do a job but please promise me that you’ll keep Spencer safe too.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” he said as you sat down in front of him.

“I don’t usually get myself into situations this stressful. My brain is rationalizing by flagging you as an authority figure. I know you’re not my boss but it’s easing my anxiety to think of you as one.”

Hotch looked at you calmly, a small smile on his lips, “I should have known Reid’s best friend would also be a genius.”

“My IQ is two points higher than his…sir,” it felt odd, joking with this man during such a stressful time.

“Reid is family to us too. We won’t let anything happen to him.”

“Spencer said that the unsub had a fantasy about me, and that’s why he was using my labels,” since your conversation with Spencer, your brain had been reeling for information.

“He asked that we didn’t tell you,” you sighed at his words.

“Of course he did. Now that I know, what information do you need? How can I be more helpful?”

“Reid asked you some questions when he got here,” you nodded, “if you’re up for it, I’d like to get the team together and ask you for more details.”

“Anything that helps,” your answer was definite, so Hotch rounded up the team with the exception of Spencer.

“Shouldn’t Reid be here?” Emily asked when you were all crammed into your office.

“I don’t want him… interfering. I don’t like biased research,” you told her.

“Then I guess we’ll get started. How exactly do you create the labels for your specimens?” Derek started the questioning.

“They’re printed on a specific cardstock that I get on special order. They’re all made down here, by me. I’m also the only one who handles the specimens, I don’t even let Spencer touch them.”

“Are there any other employees that work down here? Custodians, other curators?”

“What are you doing?” Your answer was interrupted by Spencer standing in the doorway holding two cups of coffee, in your respective favorite mugs.

“We’re doing research,” you spoke before any of your friend’s colleagues could.

“This looks like an interrogation,” Spencer came to stand behind you protectively, setting both cups down in front of you.

“I asked for this meeting, Spence. I want to help.”

“You should have told me,” he leaned closer to your ear, talking quietly so the rest of the team couldn’t hear. You didn’t usually see your friend this upset.

“Nobody comes down here regularly except for Spencer and I. It’s not open to the public, so anyone else needs a personal invite. Usually that’s when we’re changing exhibits, but everyone who helped me most recently has done it before. If it was one of them they would have killed before the first victim, right?” Derek nodded.

“Nobody else has been here in the last two months?” he repeated. You laughed half heartedly,

“I don’t have much of a social life. The only people I talk to are Spencer, the cashier at the grocery store, and Tim if I see him,” you added the last one as an afterthought.

“Tim?” Spencer stopped fuming by your side when your words piqued his interest.

“He teaches a museum history class at the community college in the city. They come by once a semester and tour the museum. You met him, remember?” Spencer averted his eyes from his team.

“I wouldn’t count that as a meeting,” you fought back a smile, recounting the way Spencer ran past the group of college kids as he tried not to let his severe hangover make him late for work.

“Tell me more about Tim, are you close?” Rossi refocused the meeting.

“No, just friendly. We email to schedule the tour, but it’s always professional. I see him at the grocery store most weeks, but it’s usually just an exchange of pleasantries.”

“How do you run into someone at the grocery store most weeks in a city like this?” Emily asked.

“I always go grocery shopping on Friday afternoons, from three to four. Spencer tells me I shouldn’t be so predictable but I work so much I have to schedule it in otherwise I forget. Tim must have the same schedule.”

“Have you seen Tim recently?”

“Now that I think about it, no. The last time I saw him was two weeks after the tour. He asked if I had dinner plans. That was the night we had tacos,” you bumped elbows with Spencer.

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I was making dinner for Spencer. You were all coming back from a trip, Spencer always comes over for dinner when you come home. I know I’m predictable but he’s never missed a dinner.”

“What was his reaction like when he heard you were making dinner for Reid?”

“He looked a little upset. I remember noticing it and thinking it was weird, but at the time I rationalized it. I’m not great at interacting with people. You don’t think Tim did this, do you? He’s really nice, always good with the kids. He asks a lot of questions because the kids don’t- oh God,” your eyes widened when you realized what you were saying. The office exploded in activity, with every agent moving to take action. Even Spencer moved, grabbing your arm and pulling you back across the hall into the break room. You noticed the way his hand was nervously on his gun.

“What happens next?”

“We don’t know for sure that it’s him yet. Garcia will cross check him against the profile. If it’s him, we’ll find him and lock him up. If it’s not… then we’re back to square one.”

“You seem more on edge than for it to be that simple,” you observed.

“Up until the most recent tour, Tim was able to admire you from afar. He saw you every week at the grocery store, and twice a year got to come down here to your personal paradise and see what you were doing. That was good enough for him until he saw me leaving here. That was the stressor. He suspected that we were… uh…”

“Dating?”

“Yeah. He tried to confirm it by asking about dinner two weeks later. It was coincidence that I was coming over that night. That was all he needed to kill out of rage.”

“You aren’t still blaming yourself for this, are you? Tim never asked if we were together. He never asked if I was with anyone at all. If he had this could have gone a lot differently. It’s his fault for assuming, not ours.”

Spencer put a hand on your back gently, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be reassuring you.”

As you rolled your eyes and told him it didn’t matter, Morgan stepped into the room.

“We’re heading out to catch this guy. Prentiss and JJ are staying, Garcia is watching the security cameras at all the entrances. Are you staying or going?” Morgan’s question was directed at Spencer. He thought for a minute, you knew he was considering the possibilities. If he stayed he could protect you personally, and he would also be protecting himself. If he went, he could personally take down the person who wanted to harm you and could be a good lure, but there was also a chance he would be targeted.

“I’ll stay. Keep me posted,” Morgan nodded, casting you a glance before running out.

“Now we wait,” Spencer rocked back on his heels, “will you show me that bone you were working on?” You were surprised he wanted to go back to business as usual, but maybe that was just it. You both needed a distraction from all of the chaos happening above ground without you. You went back to your office where Emily and JJ were. Their conversation paused when you stepped in.

“(y/n) and I are going to work on identifying this bone, there’s coffee across the hall if you want it,” Spencer said to the women.

“Thanks for staying,” you added, earning kind sympathetic looks from them as they stepped out.

“So, a long bone?” Spencer took one look at the fragment on your desk.

“Wow, he’s a genius,” you teased, sitting down, “here’s what I’ve got so far-”

You and Spencer spent hours researching. JJ and Emily popped in occasionally, but you were too engrossed in your work to see the amused glances exchanged between them as you bantered with your best friend. Spencer was trying really hard to keep things normal for you and this side of his genius, the way you fed off of each other’s stream of consciousness, was not something his coworkers usually got to witness.  

Two hours into your work Spencer’s phone rang, causing you both to startle.

“Hotch,” he was quiet as he listened to the agent on the other end of the line, “yeah, uh, yeah we’ll be right there,” he hung up and turned to you.

“They got him, but there was no real proof. They’re interrogating him now, they want us there to help.”

“Us?” you followed him out of the office as he went to find Emily and JJ.

“He’s not talking, Hotch thinks he might break for me…”

“Or me…” you finished the thought for him. The car ride was tense, and even with Spencer by your side you felt very out of place. Spencer made sure you were next to him even through the whirlwind that happened when you got to the interrogation room. Through the glass you saw Morgan talking to Tim, though Tim wasn’t doing much talking.

“(y/n), would you feel comfortable going in and talking to him? Morgan will be there too, he’ll keep you safe,” Rossi asked.

Before Spencer could protest you nodded and squared your shoulders.

“Of course. What do I need to do?”

“Morgan will do most of the questioning. You just need to get him talking.”

You took a breath and stepped into the room, watching the relief on Tim’s face when you did.

“(y/n), I’m so glad you’re here. This is all just a misunderstanding. I’m not the guy they’re looking for.”

“It’s not up to me to decide that, Tim.”

“You’re here to tell them it wasn’t me, right?”

“They’ve already told us everything we need to know. You’re still talking to me,” Morgan said, pulling Tim’s attention away from you.

“Then why are they here? I see the way you all carry those guns around, it’s too dangerous,” Tim said.

“Too dangerous for who?” Morgan pressed.

“For (y/n).”

“So you care about them, are you close?” you watched Tim’s reaction.

“Very, you can ask me anything about them, I know it all,” he was confident in his answer. Morgan glanced at you and you gave him a small nod.

“What does (y/n) do for work?”

“They’re the Collections Curator at the museum. They spend all of their time there, except on Fridays when they go grocery shopping,” Tim was enthusiastic in his answer, and looked to you for validation. You nodded gently, encouraging him.

“How do you know that?” Morgan leaned forward a bit.

“My class has been touring the collections suite for years. That’s how we met, then I ran into them at the grocery store and we got to talking,” Morgan nodded, pausing for a moment.

“I guess you are close. Since you know so much, this will probably be an easy one. What is (y/n)’s boyfriend’s name?” you tensed, waiting for the answer.

“Spencer. He’s tall, I’ve only seen him once,” he grumbled.

“(y/n), you can tell him,” Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the handcuffed man in front of you.

“Tim, I don’t have a boyfriend,” your words were soft. Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“You do! I saw him, that’s why we can’t be together!” he started to sweat under the harsh light.

“He’s just my friend, Tim. You never asked,” you were trying your hardest to stay composed.

“I did ask! You said you were having dinner together! He was good enough for you to have dinner with, I KILLED FOR YOU. DIDN’T YOU SEE, I LABELED THEM JUST LIKE YOU DO. I DID THAT FOR YOU. HE WOULD NEVER,” Tim’s outburst caused him to stand up and lunge across the table at you. Derek simultaneously pushed you back and pushed him down, you weren’t really sure how. Tim was still thrashing around and yelling all sorts of things you were sure were going to incarcerate him, but above the noise Morgan was able to speak.

“That’s all we need. Thank you, (y/n).”

When you stepped out of the interrogation room you moved immediately into Spencer’s arms, like gravity was pulling you into the one person you felt safest with.

“You’re ok. It’s ok. We’re ok,” he kept repeating.

“Spencer,” you mumbled into the material of his sweater. His words stopped so he could listen, “he seemed so normal.”

“I know, I know.”

“Do they always seem normal?” Spencer sighed, you felt his chest move with the breath.

“No, not always.” You felt his muscles tense as he held you tighter. He went back to repeating his mantra of reassurance as you caught sight of two police officers escorting Tim out of the interrogation room.

“Reid, Hotch wants to see you,” Emily approached the two of you once the room had cleared.

“Go, I’m alright,” you told him, stepping out of his embrace. He kissed the top of your head before leaving you alone with Emily.

“You did a great job in there,” she said as you walked back to the bullpen.

“It didn’t feel like it,” you told her honestly, “I’ve known Tim for years, he was always so nice to me. He never seemed…capable… but the way he yelled…”

“I know. It’s over now, though. Is there anything we can get for you? Coffee?” you sat down at Spencer’s desk, feeling exhaustion wash over you.

“No, thanks. I think I’m just going to go back to the museum. I have some work there that needs some attention. Do you think Spencer could drive me? I’m not awake enough to take public transportation.”

“I’m driving, but we’re not going to the museum,” Spencer loped over from Hotch’s office, grabbing his jacket and bag from the back of his chair.

“What? Why not?”

“You’re coming back to my apartment. Hotch’s orders, you’re not allowed to argue.”

As much as you wanted to, you decided not to put up a fight and instead got into the Bureau vehicle with your best friend. It was quiet as he drove, you wanted to say something but you didn’t know what the right words would be to describe how thankful you were to have him in your life. The silence continued until you were inside, when Spencer offered you something to eat.

“Are you sure?” he asked from the kitchen when you declined. You were by his bookshelves, running your finger down the spines of the many books he owned. Even though most of the time you spent with Spencer was in the museum, you had been to his apartment before on multiple occasions. You had never been there long enough to read his large collection of books, though you wished you had the time because you always trusted Spencer’s book recommendations.

“I’m sure. Thanks, though,” you paused to pull a Chaucer book off the shelf, “why did Hotch want me to come home with you?”

“He wanted you somewhere safe and comfortable, where you can process what happened without being completely alone. I know you wanted to go back to the museum but I also know what you’re like when you’re working and going back to work isn’t going to help you process what just happened. I thought coming here would give you a chance to eat and sleep,” he took the book out of your hands and put it back in its place.

“Is it that obvious?” you were having a hard time keeping your eyelids open. Spencer laughed lightly.

“It is, you should get some rest. I’ll be right out here, I have to finish this report,” he gestured to the folder he had brought home. You nodded, padding over to the bedroom. As soon as you crossed the threshold you could feel your distance from Spencer, who was leaning against the counter scratching away at the file with a pen.

“Spencer?” he turned to you quickly, his eyebrows mashing together in concern.

“Is that report kitchen specific, or could you do it in here?” his face softened. He left the file abandoned where it was on the counter as he rushed over to you. He helped you into bed, before sitting at the opposite end and settling by your feet.

“I’m not going anywhere, you’re safe now,” he put a hand on your leg. The pressure was reassuring, to say the least, and you found yourself easily slipping into sleep underneath Spencer’s quilt.

When you woke, Spencer was still at the end of the bed with a book in his hands. His feet, clad in mismatched socks, were crossed by your shoulder. You gently prodded at his foot, causing him to twitch and look up from what he was reading.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, putting the book down beside him. You sat up and stretched out your arms.

“You’re still here,” you smirked.

“It’s my apartment,” his quip was light and gentle.

“You’re right, I should get back to the museum,” you started to get up, but Spencer put a hand on your foot.

“Stay here for a while. You work too much, some time off would be good for you.”

“You work just as much as I do, genius. I’m not going to loiter in your apartment while you’re off fighting crime.”

“Hotch is letting me stay home for a few days. If an urgent case comes up I’ll help remotely, but I’m not leaving you.”

“Spence, you don’t have to-“

“I want to, (y/n). You’re my best friend who just went through a traumatic experience. Your family is 2,431 miles away, but even if they were closer you wouldn’t spend time with them. You said it yourself, I’m the only one you talk to regularly. I’m not going to abandon you now.”

“Haven’t we talked about you profiling me?” Spencer blushed.

“That wasn’t a profile, just information.”

“Sure,” you yawned.

“Go back to sleep, you still have some catching up to do.”

“You’re keeping track?” you asked, though you laid back down to get more comfortable.

“It’s simple subtraction, (y/n). I don’t need a PhD in mathematics to know you have slept far less than is healthy for the last three days,” he picked up the book again, finding the place where he left off.

“What are you reading?” his eyes flickered up to meet yours again.

“Dickens, Great Expectations.”

“You’ve read that one before,” you commented, surprised he didn’t have more to say on the subject.

“I have. I thought you might like it, I was just passing the time while you were sleeping. I can read it to you, if you want. It always made me feel better when my mom read to me.”

“I’d really like that,” you settled deeper into the pillow, listening to your friend’s voice as you drifted off to sleep. For the first time since Spencer had burst into your office, you finally felt content.

[chilling-in-the-dark]

The Batboys Growing Up as Yandere’s Part 5: Damian Wayne

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, and kidnapping. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

Tim had moved out by the time Bruce found out about Damian; in fact, Tim had left as soon as his girlfriend returned his affections.

When Damian Wayne was still Damian Al Ghul, he’d always been told that caring too much for anyone was a weakness, that it would get him killed. So, he couldn’t understand why his father, the great Batman held on so tightly to his wife. Damian doubted that the woman whom he refused to call a Wayne, because that right should have been reserved for his mother, could even defend herself properly. Damian would have killed her in the early days if he thought he could have gotten away with it.

Though Mrs. Wayne’s patience and constant care slowly wore down his walls, and then he started to envy his father. Yet at the same time, Damian didn’t think he deserved someone; he was a demon who’d killed people. Yet, at the same time, he craved love, Damian yearned for soft touches and sweet smiles.

It was the summer before his freshman year of high school when he’d made a dumb mistake, one his mother would have killed him for, and when the villain he’d been fighting used it to their advantage, he’d barely managed to get away with his life.

It had surprised you to find Robin bleeding out on your fire escape. Against your better judgment, you took him inside and tended to his wounds as best you could, glad your mother was rarely home since her and your stepfather’s messy divorce, you think after six of them she’d learn to cope better.

Damian woke several hours later to find an angel leaning over him; for half a second, he wondered if he’d died. Damian corrected himself; if he died, he certainly wasn’t going to meet an angel. Also, he probably wouldn’t feel like he’d just been given the beating of a lifetime.

“Oh, thank god your alive,” you spoke, relief flooding your voice. You’d done your best to stop the bleeding, but a lot of his wounds looked like they needed stitches, something you weren’t capable of.

Once Damian came to as much as his blood loss would let him, he felt his face, relieved to find his angel had left the mask in place. Robin didn’t speak much until Batman arrived, but then as he was carried out by his father, you could have sworn you heard, “Thank you,” fall faintly from the boy’s lips.

You didn’t know it, but you’d come to regret the night you’d saved a Robin from certain death.

It wasn’t a month later your mother came into your bedroom, demanding to know why you had a letter from Gotham Academy. “So, help me, you better not have applied I told you we can’t afford this and don’t you dare bring up scholarships, those don’t cover uniforms or books.” She’d spent the better part of an hour yelling, not letting you get a word in edgewise, so you couldn’t tell her that you hadn’t applied. Finally, she thrust the envelope onto your dresser and left.

You knew it was probably a scam, but you opened the envelope anyway, only to find a letter about being awarded a full Martha Wayne Foundation scholarship, it supposedly covered every expense necessary to attend. You decided that you’d look up the school’s number and call them in the morning. At worst, you’d end up embarrassed, but if this letter was real, you might have a shot at a future.

It had taken more strength then Damian thought he possessed, to keep him from killing your mother, as he watched the live feed from the security camera he’d installed in your bedroom. Damian had only put them in there because he wanted to keep you safe, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself; he wanted to see how his beloved was doing.

He’d been happy to see you on the first day of school. Actually, he’d gotten to see you before class even started. Your bike tires being several years older than you, had finally given out, and of course, it had started raining of all things.

You’d been cautious when the town car came to a stop beside you, even more so when you saw the back window rolled down to reveal Damian Wayne, but the boy had somehow managed to get you into the car with him. While he’d been rough around the edges, Damian had managed to come off as sweet and charming. It hadn’t been hard something about your presence soothed him, made it easy to let out emotions he usually kept bottled up.

He’d spent the day by your side, and for the first time in a long time, Damian felt at peace; in his eyes, you truly were an angel sent down to save his soul. Damian was convinced that meeting you was fate, that some higher being was giving him a chance, someone to love and that maybe if he did it right and kept you safe, it might make up for his sins.

You were sixteen when Damian had finally asked you out, you’d been happy, how could you not be, your crush liked you back, You’d gushed on the phone to your friends for hours afterword, they were dumbfounded that you hadn’t realized how in love with you the boy was, “He calls you Beloved for peat’s sake, of course, he’s in love with you.”

To you, this was a new relationship, but to Damian, it had been formalizing what he already knew to be true. You were his, and that class ring on your finger would prove it until a wedding ring could take its place.

That time would come on your graduation day when Damian had just finished his valedictorian speech when he knelt in front of you and pulled out a small black box. You knew what was in it before he’d even had a chance to open it and reveal his family’s heirloom engagement ring. Mrs. Wayne must have given it to him.

You’d cried happy tears as he put the ring on your finger, once that was done Damian leaned in to kiss you while ignoring the clicking of cameras. Despite what many think, Damian loved PDA because it let the entire world know whose protection you were under. You wanted the wedding to wait until after college, much to Damian’s dismay, but he’d begrudgingly accepted your choice. Though to Damian’s satisfaction, the wedding came a lot sooner than you’d planned.

You’d been attending Gotham university for a few months now and had been loving it, that is until you spent longer then you’d planned in the library. You knew Damian would want you to call him so he could come and get you, but you knew he was on patrol, and while you didn’t like the idea of walking in Gotham after dark, you’d walked home at night before and never had an issue.

Tonight though, a mugger had pulled you into a dark alley and pointed a gun at your face demanding all your valuables. You’d relented giving the man everything you had on you, but you’d forgotten to give him your ring. You loved the ring, and it was a Wayne family heirloom, but you knew it wasn’t worth your life, so when the man slapped you and demanded you give it up. You instantly started working the ring off your finger.

Just as you’d slipped it from your hand, Robin showed up and started whaling on the guy. You’d never seen Damian so vicious before, but he’d refrained from killing the man in your presence, not wanting you to see death. An angel should never have to see such darkness, no that was reserved for a demon like him, so Damian slipped a tracker on the unconscious man and took you to the manor. Once he’d managed to calm you down enough to sleep, he’d go back out and finish the job.

Damian had used the incident to convince you to marry him sooner, playing up how short life could be and asking you what the point in waiting was. The next day the two of you applied for a marriage license, and during New Jersey’s mandatory three-day waiting period Alfred and the other Wayne wives planned and organized the whole wedding. It was a small and intimate affair, but lovely none the less, everything had been perfect.

Until the next day, that is, when you woke up and found yourself in a locked room, you definitely hadn’t gone to sleep in. Damian was also noticeably absent. Your heart was in your throat, had you been kidnaped, if so how did they get into Wayne manor and why didn’t Damian wake up, your husband was a light sleeper.

There was no way anyone could have taken you without waking him up even if, by some improbability, you hadn’t woken up yourself. You’d never felt so relieved as you did when Damian walked through the door breakfast tray in his hands. Maybe this was some sort of staycation to make up for not being able to go on a honeymoon.

“Dami, why is the door locked?” You asked anyways, not expecting the answer that you were going to get.

“To make sure you can’t leave the safety of this room beloved,” He said, and your blood froze because Damian’s tone made it sound as if he believed it was completely normal to lock his wife in a room. You tried to explain to him how messed up that was, but he ignored your arguments. Your husband wasn’t the man you thought he was.

You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take Damian in a fight, so you waited until he left for patrol to start looking for an exit. All that got you was a bruised shoulder because, apparently, the window was freaking bulletproof glass.

You’d decided that tactic was useless because all it got you was Damian fussing over you, and right now, the last thing you wanted was your kidnaper anywhere near you. So, you stopped eating and made it clear to him that you weren’t going to unless he let you go. Part of you still loved him, so it broke your heart to see such a proud man beg, but no matter how much he cried and pleaded, you held firm.

You kept it up for about a week before you woke up tied to the bed, Damian making it clear that if you weren’t going to eat willingly, he’d force-feed you, after all, he’d vowed to keep you safe, even if it was from yourself.

Tags

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@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

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[iamtheempress]

Lets Talk

She nursed a nice bruise on her face in the bathroom, one that bloomed from her cheek to the top of her brow, extending a green fingertip to her cheek to heal it slowly, hopefully bringing back some natural skin tone to her cheek again.

 A normal practice for treating her wounds all her life, all while keeping herself awake and conscious with an energy drink that was half empty and the ever present feeling of anticipation. The source of anticipation lingering on that phone beside her, a burner phone she bought at the beginning of the day.

Chiaki's eyes flickered to her burner phone right next to her, waiting for a reply from a face shed only met during a fight earlier that morning with her father. 

Heroes against Villains, that old fight that will seemingly never ever cease, she cant remember why the incident happened but she just knew that she and her father were first responders along with a handful of other heroes.

 She inspects the faded mark on her face and closes the door to the bathroom, quietly as to not wake her mother who had tried to quell her worried eldest daughter, Aoi had retired to bed about an hour ago… the media had picked up on the travesty of a fight that happened earlier that day. Causing a nasty uproar from civilians and the media alike.

It was everywhere, newspapers, radio stations, the internet and she can hear the newscaster announce it clearly. "Pro Hero Witch is in the Literal Hot Seat today, is she someone we need to keep an eye on? Her power was in full effect keeping a fifteen-story building from crushing her and her battered teammate, FullCharge. Who had beaten the negligent heroin enough to make her heal him, after she did this the building she was supporting fell upon her and 5 other civilian lives, after letting the villain come to know as Dabi escape-'' she turned off the tv sick and tired of hearing of how useless she’s been, the ensuing argument she had with her family left scars on her psyche she wouldn't bat an eyelash at, she couldn't care about her reputation when she let people die on her watch. 

Useless. Lazy. A joke. 

She let those 5 civilians die so callously, she didn't know them and yet she doesn't feel as bad, atleast not right now. Casualties are a norm for heros, right?

The icing on the cake was to hear the media call her that word negatively again. 

Witch… 

A name she used to take her power back from a horrible nickname in her childhood. Now once again weighing on her like chains to the floor.

 She walked to bed holding the phone and lamenting, falling to her bed with a resounding flop.. It's her fault.. she let Dabi go, and everyone saw it.

 She let everyone down and even had her phone blown up by her friends. She turned her attention to the group chat and took a peek from behind the iron curtain of guilt. Bakugou's name was the first to catch her eye.

Bakugou: Chili. Hey dumbass answer us! We have been trying to call you all day and you leave us on read. Answer us goddammit! We don't want to confront you ourselves and see what your deal is but we will if you don't answer us for the rest of the night.

Midoriya: We will give you another 30 and we're coming over, we promise we're not going to gang up on you, Chili…That wouldn't be right. 

Chiaki: How can i trust that, you all saw my situation, no one did a damn thing to help me, i get im also the healer but that includes people defending me in order to heal at a distance or else I HAVE THE TARGET on me. I cant face any of you. 

Bakugou, Izuku, Shouto and more are typing…

She wept rubbing her eyes with her sleeve and making her tear up. Out of everyone… she assumed someone would understand but they all seemed to give her the same look, it made her heart stop. Once again she's the bad guy in a situation she lost control over. With guilt in her heart, she recalled the last moments before he got away. 

Dabi got her father off of her. No hesitation, blasted him clean off of her with enough force it could have singed her head to toe, but he didn’t. She went to get up and saw her father immolated in blue flames as she turned to see the same man she was sent to apprehend was standing fixed about 10 feet from her, his eyes trained solid on her. She looks up at the buildinh started to grown from the integrity being lost from the fight, it began to collapse down on them until she suspended it above the both of them, mere feet from his head; they stared at one another like deer in headlights. A sinister smirk spread across his features before disappearing from her view, in the kick up of dirt and rubble, 

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself to apprehend him. 

Why..? Did he see the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she barely had a leg to stand on when her own father took her down a size, when he saw insubordination over saving herself and not her father who was completely fine? Or was there another ulterior motive to keeping her alive?

Upon trying to close her eyes, and hopefully forget about this whole day.  

The burner phone buzzed to life. 

The screen could have been the brightest thing in the room, a beacon in the night beckoning her. Distant thunder rumbled to indicate the dire decision she's made, as well as a storm that was approaching.

 Her heart stopped, she lifted the phone slightly and slid her thumb over the screen. To see the text message from an unavailable number. 

“How is that eye feeling, Witch?” 

The text read, her fingers flew across the keyboard. 

“It’s been better, I fixed it up. Is this really Dabi?” upon sending the message the text came up as read. Is she really thinking of doing this… he messaged her back quickly. “Maybe I am, I have seen the news today and that shot of you and I standing before the building collapsed on us was cinematic so I have to give you props for that. I’m guessing the reason you wanted to speak to me was not make pleasantries and talk about our days.” 

“You want to join the League.” 

There it is. The question that lain heavily upon her mind. Shed never considered it as much as she has recently. The ridicule of her graduating class, her power seen as something not all heroes should use for good. She proved time and time again how she is not something to worry about.. But here she was.. Being abused and taken advantage of by the people she cared for. 

“Yes. I do.” She sent it with no hesitation and sat up in her bed looking down upon the phone, he made quick work of messaging her back, again. 

“We havent recruited anyone worth our time in a while. From what I saw recently as well as today. We were considering reaching out to you..but this works much better. Meet tonight?” Her golden eyes widened and her mouth popped open out of sheer shock. “Around what time? Ill be there” She stands up, with a loud crack of lightning the rain poured outside, she cursed and saw a location pop up on her phone.

An old and run down apartment complex outside of city limits. “Now. Get going. Text me when you're close.” Chiaki sprung out of bed without a second thought. Redressing herself in simple attire, something to not be seen on the streets so easily especially at night. Black leggings, worn in combat boots her mother gave her, a large black hoodie and that burner phone.

 While tying her hair up in a bun she saw her phone, the one with her best friends messaging her… and Midoriya’s name front and center..

Izuku: “Hey, cmon, Chili. We know you’re there.. We saw what happened and we want to know if your alright…We can see you reading our messages”

Izuku: What happened with your dad wasn't right but something doesn't add up from that fight, Chili.”

Bakugou: “It makes just as little sense to me too dumbass! Why did he spare you and go for FullCharge.”

Bakugou: “You better not have done something youll regret dumbass we cant lose you!”

Kiri: “I already have Shouto were on our way to talk to you, Spooky, were not mad..”

Her heart stopped in her throat as she started typing to them. She could see them all stop typing in unison. 

“Theres nothing to talk about. You all have made up your mind about me..i can see it. I sound like im just a problem to all of you. Consider me gone.” Chiaki tossed her old phone to the bed and scrawled a note. 

“I loved you all.. I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be.”

With one message her phone began to blow up. Without looking back, she was gone. Hopping from her window to the road below with a splash into a puddle and starting her jog, leaving the only home she's known her whole damn life, as well as leaving her hero life behind her.

About a solid 30 minutes later she noticed she saw the buildings become more and more dilapidated marked with graffiti as sirens shrieked down streets and seedy characters crept behind alleyways, the city limits were within a mile away, and so was the old apartment building. 

Impatient and eager to meet him face to face, she messaged him.. "About a block or two away." she pulled her hood up as she exited a mini markets awning that was closed, rain started to shower down upon her, her light hair hidden beneath the oversized hood, the old marquis sign coming into sight. 

The phone vibrated in her pocket, Chiaki pulled it out and the words shone bright across her face. “You better not be some spy.. I won’t be too happy. So in your best interest, i'd be 100% transparent with me.”  She texts back quickly. “I am an open book and got little to hide.”

The text was read and the old marquis was above her, “No turning back now… the guys will be looking for me in no time.” She said to herself and entered the lobby of the closed apartment building, through the heavy wooden doors. It looked like it used to be grand but now it was so in disrepair that the wallpaper was torn back from walls and holes were created from years of neglect. 

Chiaki pulled her hood back and looked around, listening to the silence of the apartment, she took a breath and emanated a glow from her hands, her fingers and thumb lit up like bright green glow sticks.

From behind a darkened figure glided his scarred palm across the tattered wall approaching her slowly, he speaks up, cutting the silence and startling her. "Ah..There you are, you certainly didn't waste your time, Witch" she gasped and whipped around to see him, Dabi. She let out a nervous laugh and took a step forward, if she were not in this situation she wouldn't hesitate to take him down but this instance she felt on equal ground to him so she felt no threat.

 "I don’t dodge opportunities, especially ones like this, I would have contacted someone sooner but I wanted a reason to do this.. And you seemed like someone I wanted to contact first hand." Dabi approaches her until he is within mere feet of Chiaki, his feet shuffling with each stride, he's easily taller than her by more than a couple inches, being 5”2’ is sometimes a hindrance.

He blows air out of his nose with a laugh. “You were in luck then.. I had my eye on you for a while and finding intel for you was far more complicated than we expected. Chiaki Nakamura is it?”  one hand stuffed into his pants pocket and the other out to gesture towards her, his scarred hand fanned out, talking with his hands was natural for him to do it seems. His cyan blue eyes raking down her front and back to her eyes. Unblinking and just as dark and spellbinding as before, all the while being intensely overwhelming in every aspect physical. Chiaki’s heart bounced in her chest to her throat. 

His head lulls to the side.

 "Thats my name..” The young pro speaks softly, Dabi noticed the apprehension in her voice,"Oh are you nervous little Witch..?"  he didn't need her scurrying off or anything so he took to sauntering slowly around her, sizing her up like a hungry shark. She didn’t speak but caught his eyes through his black hair that curtained his eyes. “Just a bit but if i were any more scared i wouldn’t be here..” He looked upon her glowing green hands, it made her mildly conscious of the fact that they were shaking.

“Then my reputation precedes me even to fresh faces like you.” He says with a hoarse chuckle, he backs up with his arms spread open, she catches a glimpse of his long scarred arms, they flopped back down to his sides, She laughs gently in turn, her eyes fixed on his face, being this close she could see the gold sheen to the staples on his mouth and under his eyes. 

“If that nervous behavior is because you’re scared and having second thoughts about this.. And want to go back to playing around as a hero, i won't hesitate to fry you where you stand, but i'm hoping you're using that common sense of yours so i don't have to.” She listens intently, unwavering and dimming her hands back down, as to not allow her quirk to radiate outside the building.. Dabi’s mouth doesn’t even move beyond a normal straight line but his eyes say everything: He doesn’t see her as a stranger.. Despite this being their first time meeting amicably.

 “rest assured i won’t hurt you, from what I have seen already we need someone with a quirk like yours around, but when it comes to me bringing you back to the bar.. They won’t allow you in unless I check you for a wire, lift your arms.” He instructs and she lifts her arms just enough for him.

 His hands starting to traverse her arms and waist make her face swell with heat, a much more embarrassing position to be in… He was thorough and rough with the patdown, his face remained the same unchanging and stoic, her eyes trained on his face and the rough scars that covered the bottom portion of his face to the part directly under his tear ducts. Besides that he doesn't look bad.. The scars only add that intense look to him, the reason why people were scared of his looks. 

“I wanted to know something..” She caught his attention with a low hum, his brow raising and his lips curling upward. “What was the deal with you getting my father off of me..why didnt you attack me.” His hands finished patting down her body and he tuts her pulling the burner phone from her pocket.

 “You see.. That moment was televised and the moments leading up were not, and if they were, they didn't televise your abuse period or the reason behind it. It was pretty tragic, I heard your father's harsh words.. even more brutal pounding id say, he blocked all of your defences, your little friends didn't come for your rescue, they stood around." She stood stock still listening to him,

"Our Pro Hero lil Witch being ‘saved’ by me when i had enough of seeing someone who is more useful then her partners let on, being beaten to a pulp, and then when things seemed to be working in your favor and the fabled heroes would have gotten me, you in turn...stopped an entire highrise building from squishing me to death.” He leans forward and drops his voice an octave, dipping into a form of seductive and joking. 

“Kinda humiliating isn’t it? Being saved by a well known villain isn't really what the public wants to see.." he shrugs and steps back looks down at his palm, his long fingers moving around trying to catch her attention like he could light a flame at any moment,  with the other hand in his pocket. "I saw someone who needed help in more ways than one.” Her eyes widened as he stuffed the phone into his pocket “I saw someone who I had my eye on for a while being beaten for not doing something as useful as aiding her teammate… and for her own safety right?” He questions as he leans back against the wall adjacent to her.

 “Yeah.. that's right.. How do you know all that? I mean like, not alot of people know that about my quirk, i cant heal at a distance and provide backup unless i have backup...” He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Exactly my point. Your dear old dad didn't take his much more volatile daughter into account and only used you as a support to him, fueling his ego and making you look bad to the rest of the world.” his demeanor was so foreign to her, he spoke so eloquently and with conviction, a sadistic and perverse form of understanding that drew her in like a super magnet.

 She stood blanched, thunderstruck by how he's describing the situation to her, It's like he's in her head reading every emotion as plain on her face. “Yes. He never took me seriously… as a hero.. No one really ever did.” Dabi's eyes softened as their eyes remained locked in a stare of...mutual understanding on his part… she knew little of his past or who he was, but the weight of not being good enough or a lost cause caused his fists to clench.. he not dare ask anything personal yet.. he has a job to do and earn her trust and read her and her situation like a book. Foreshadowing the type of person she was made to be over years of unfair treatment and situations outside of their control.

 “Getting closer.. Go on, Witch.” She swallowed air and kept spilling her guts..  “I use my quirk to even help anyone or… do something for the good of others and its never highlighted in the slightest, no job well done or whatever. No sort of fanfare or recognition, i come home and.. get judged and told I'm not as good as… as him, from him.” SHe clasps her hands together and opens them up again, Dabi’s eyes watching the little light show from her fingertips and then fade away again. The more his eyes looked to her hands the more he wanted to see the beautiful little auras again, it was then Dabi realized her quirk is easy to be triggered, or atleast constantly active. “But when… i do one thing thats out of character for a… normal pro hero… all eyes are on you..and I was treated like a...pariah” 

Dabi nods his head and his smooth voice lulled her ears “Understand now? They only want you when you're useful to them, you're treated as backup, but in the right hands you could be so much more..” Her head hung low, like she just discovered it, that despite her power and the fact shes equally as dangerous maybe even more so she's treated as lesser than everyone else. 

Dabi mentally kicked himself, making such a pretty face sulk and look dour, he couldn't just stand there and allow her to beat herself up over how others treat her. Dabi took a step forward to her and found himself raising his hand to her chin and made her look right up at him, her chin betwixt the pads of his forefinger and thumb. “Come on now… don't be so down on yourself, they might see you as only an asset and a tool to use and expand upon themselves, as nothing more then a battery that never quits, but with us, you can reach a version of yourself you have never seen before.. And we can help you with that. We will make sure you surpass your expectations'' She caught herself staring. 

Eyes glazed over in tears that threatened to fall, and with a blink they were gone. “Excuse my ignorance but… you're serious like you can do that?” She asked with trepidation and abit of excitement that she had to cage off to not seem too eager. 

“It's not a promise, Nakamura. Its a fact that is going to be a reality. Now..” He turned on his heel and gave them some distance in the lobby, he was almost shrouded in darkness. “Give me a demonstration on what you can do.” He instructs. 

Chiaki blinks and becomes blanched. A demonstration. In here? She clasps her hands together and pulls them apart that green glow emanating from her hands to her elbows, pretty gold and green eyes enveloped in pure green with irises, her hands splayed out fingers slowly dancing and expanding outward, like licks of fire.

 “Brace yourself.” She curled in her fingers to drain the energy from surrounding lights and power, making the environment for everyone else but her heavy and sluggish. Dabi had a bead of sweat roll down his face and a headache grow slowly. “And just as it was pulled away I can give it back on my own terms.” She points a manicured finger at Dabi. The headache vanishes without a trace and his energy restored , almost knocking him on his ass from the dizzying feeling of having the wind knocked into you.

 The lights and the power entirely shut down for a full block and the bulbs bust outside. She holds a ball of concentrated energy in her palm and absorbs it into her skin, a content smile spreading across her delicate features and bowing forward and standing back up straight.

 “Oh yeah, they're going to thank me for insisting you be our new recruit... Warn me before you use your quirk on me again, will you?” She snorts and cocks a brow up at him. “So.. do it again later and knock you on your ass?” Chiaki giggled, Dabi quizzically tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if he's breaking down her words in his head, he flipped his black hair from his face as chuckles amused.

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, sarcastic little thing. ” she blushes and covers her mouth embarrassed. “I think it would be smart if we left.. I don't know if my friends are out looking for me or not..and honestly i would rather not face them head on yet.. And i don't want you to be hurt.” Chiaki looks back at him and blushes not realizing how worried she was for his safety, "What already thinking of me? Don't get so soft on me now, Nakamura.." Dabi chuckles and his hands return to his pockets and with a half turn he nods his head in the opposite direction of her, signalling her to follow him towards the exit of the building, he stops before the door. 

"Wait..you mean those UA kids..? trust me, Nakamura.. they arent your friends.. i don't need to know what you went through today after our little scene, you know as well as i that they're already plotting against you from what you did.." his words rang true along with his velveteen voice, the tall and slender Villain seemed to know more than he let on.

Chiaki became quiet and more confident with her decision. She made this choice, and she really didn't regret a damn thing. "And that very thing you have done today, Chiaki.." he slammed his hand into the wall, anchored his hand beside her head, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Lightning cracked outside illuminating the scars that adorned his features.

  The trench coat splaying open and just a bit of his shirt collar dipping down to reveal the purple scar stretches to his chest, gold tint staples fixed secure into what skin he had left to him that remained unscarred.

 Her eyes wandered from his chest back to his brilliant blue eyes. "Made me realize that you were worth contacting. Trust me, Nakamura.. we will bring out the best in you, UA would have easily tainted your view on the world and how ‘justice’ is delivered; but it seems like you know the world for what it really is." he gave her cheek a pat and a pinch, his gaze remained on her and a sickly grin twisted on his features when he notices her eyes wandering to the purple skin and his pronounced collar dipping further down his chest.. His hand engulfed her chin, capturing it and making her look him in the eyes. 

"Yknow, staring at people in the League will getcha in trouble or hurt, Not me though.. just don't get too used to it, anyone who stares  that long at me i consider mice…but honestly i don't see you scurrying off anytime soon." He backs off when she blushes brighter and gives him a shove. 

"Ah quit! Its kinda hard to not stare if you haven't noticed, Dabi." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone facing the heavy door, when he received a reply he put it back into his pocket, and sighed opening the heavy metal door with a creak, rain poured down into the street as he spoke up so she could hear him. "its what we ugly folk are used to i'm afraid." Chiaki merely scoffs and pulls back up the hood and opened her palm flat and above his and her head together she created a translucent green umbrella like barrier protecting them from the downpour,  "Ugly is abit of a stretch, Dabi..." she mutters and follows him into the alley where the rain continued ro shower down bouncing off the barrier, a singular street lamp illuminating the barren street leaving the only city she had ever known, Dabi replayed that phrase in his head and he momentarily closed his eyes.

 Its been years since he got compliments.. it was strange but not unwelcome. "Ohhhh little mouse, your gonna get along very well with me.. stick by my side and everyone will like you… eventually.. Your about to meet one of them anyway." As he said this casually as the street became a black and purple haze, a portal opened up and swirled as a literal exit from the city.. to wherever the hell she was going next. 

Chiaki gasped and took an apprehensive step forward.

 "Scared?" Dabi asked, with a little smirk on his lips. "Just a bit…" Dabi extended his hand for her, inviting her with him "Cmon. Trust me. Trust a burnt man with nothing to lose." He chides playfully. Chiaki accepts his invitation, his hand warm and textured with the staples.. Dabis heart skipped a beat at the contact.

 Soft and small hands engulfed by his own as he guided her through the portal, stunning blue eyes never deviating from her gold and green ones.. like they were captivated by one another.. before she knew it, she was in a completely different location. She blinked and looked around, thunderstruck almost by the environment.

A bar that reeked of booze and smoke of different varieties. "Welcome home, for now." He says in a flat tone, she pulled off her hood and looked around.

 Dabi still had his back to her and looked at his palm for a moment that felt like an eternity, the ghost of her hand remaining in his own, strange emotions bubbled up from nowhere, he shoved them back down and spoke up. 

"Everyone seems to be out by now, usually the bar is never empty. The person who summoned that portal is here...Kurogiri, which means our leader Shigaraki is here. He’ll meet you at some point..when he's not on his damn video games." he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and shook his wet hair out. Turning to look down at her, "Nice place...you guys bounce from place to place often?" She asks in what felt like a shy whisper, the resounding echo from the hall made her feel like she was shouting. 

"Haven't in a while.. hoping we won't have too again. Wont say where because it doesn't matter. Anyway, wanna come up to my room? There's an old couch up there you can crash on. Unless you want my bed, heh.. Wouldn't mind you in bed with me.” He breathily chuckles and pinches her chin starting to lead the way, “Don't get any ideas! I'm just tired.. I haven't had any sleep and its like.. Almost 2:30 in the morning.” She yawned and dragged her feet behind him.

Chiaki follows him up the stairs and down the long corridor to the last door on the left, he opened it to find a bedroom with a king sized mattress pushed to the wall and the windows covered in blackout curtains, an old couch directly under it and  a flat screen across the room as well as his own computer and cans of empty energy drinks by it, as well as an ashtray that looked like it was used normally. 

“This room is mine, go ‘head.” He invites her in, noting the tired look on her face, he found it almost innocent if it weren't for the remnants of blush still ghosted on the apples of her cheeks.

Dabi had booted the door closed behind him as she kicked off her boots, he spoke up again, watching her movements, as they seemed to have gotten lazier. “Not much of an interior decorator but it works for me, sprucing the room up would be too much effort.” 

Making himself comfortable he sheds the trench coat and shuffles through a cabinet in the desk where his computer is located,”I'm getting pretty tired and by the looks of it you are too, so im afraid im gonna have to restrain you. Cmere.” He says, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that catches Chiaki’s attention, her brow instantly rising in confusion and a hint of worry. Dabis eyes flicker up to her when she whips around at the chain jingling as he approaches her, twirling the cuffs around his finger 

 “W-wait why do you need to restrain me?” She asks a little wary, “Its so you dont pull anything while I'm sleeping… can't be too careful, little mouse.” He states clasping the cuffs around her wrists in the front, they clicked almost to the point where he could get two fingers under them. Chiaki looked at him with big innocent eyes and then down to the cuffs on her wrists. “Tsk..you do this to all the new recruits or am i just that special.” He chuckles and turns his back to her. “You’re a first, to both be cuffed and able to sleep in my bed. Consider yourself ‘special’”

She looks back up to find Dabi stripping his white shirt off and tossing it to the couch, a blush forming on her face and a pang in her heart as she looks at him closely, hes much better looking up close… fit and lean, along with the added look of his scars that dressed his torso into his pants only made him 2 times more appealing and more her type. “Holy shit..” She says out loud with her jaw slacked abit. “Checking me out, little mouse? Remember what I said about staring.” He chuckled and laid back in bed exhausted, pulling the sheets up her body comfortably. “Sorry was just admiring the view, Dabi.” She teased rolling her eyes and settling into bed, Dabi’s eyes widened briefly and felt that sweet warm feeling creeping up his chest again, this time he let it simmer there.

“im going to sleep.. Too tired to think, that energy drink i had acouple hours ago finally wore off." Chiaki yawned and stretched, facing away from him to ease the situation, that situation being she wanted to face him and find comfort from him. 

A sort of comfort she longed for for years, acceptance and safety.. Funny she found safety with a villain.. With villains alike. This caused her to giggle to herself, he raises a brow and looked over to her with his arms tucked behind his head 

Instead as Dabi turned off the light and the distant thunder rolled she spoke up “Dabi..” “Hm?” She turned back over and some light from the opened part of the black out curtains illuminated her eyes, Dabi once again caught himself peering into them wistfully finding himself looking her over. 

 A genuine glow in her eye, appreciation and a connection the two have never felt before, “Thank you, for bringing me in.. you wont regret it,” She brings her bound hands up to pull the pillow further up under her head, and licked her lips, swallowing her fear and letting a wall down, even just alittle bit to him. Dabi mused and observed her closely, finally seeing the opposite end of what its like to have someone in need go to him of all people. “i haven't felt anything beyond disappointment for a long long time, so to say i feel comfortable with someone i was fighting not even a day ago says anything, i hope you understand and i'm not stepping over any boundaries.” He grinned, and responded with an amused chuckle. “Getting soft on me again, better not make that a habit with anyone else here, I just might get jealous.” Dabi grazed his finger against her cheek, she leaned against his hand and smiled angelically.

“I'm starting to like that fire in your eye. ” He ghosts his knuckles down her cheek as her eyes closed slowly, blinking exausted as the cold air kicked on from the ac unit above them, she shivered and threw all caution to the wind, Dabi stiffened as she moved closer to his end of the bed, she ducked her head abit beneath the blanket to snuggle against his warm chest, his heart hammered with nerves he still couldnt place a name too, the same hand that stroked her cheek rested on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the sweatshirts fabric. 

Comforting and confusing thoughts swirled through the villains mind as he soon came to realize he remained awake for all but another 20 minutes, the soft rise and fall of her chest and side indicated she had long fallen asleep in his arms. 

Dabi rested his chin against her head and attempted to find the sleep he had long since forgotten in his past life. Acceptance and comfort from someone. 

He sighed and whispered in a husky tone of voice.

“Glad we had that talk, Little Mouse…”

XXX~

Hey yall its my first MHA fic. You might see more of her and Dabi in the future cuz honestly this was fun!

[iam93percentstardust]

buckytony for the ask game?

1. Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?

Tony frequents the coffee shop. Bucky has been working at Bean True to Yourself (the owners are hipsters) for the last three years, trying to put himself and Steve through college because while they both got scholarships, it wasn’t enough and Steve’s health doesn’t let him hold a study job. Bucky has gotten pretty good at latte art actually. Only Natasha knows that it’s because he’s got a crush on the cute brunet with the messy hair and Bambi eyes that comes in sleep-deprived every single morning and probably doesn’t even notice the hearts Bucky puts in his lattes.

Tony definitely notices and it’s only because he’s spent so much time in the spotlight that he doesn’t blush every single time he sees the new art. Besides, he remembers when he first started coming here and the latte art was terrible. Bucky’s probably just testing out his artistic skills on Tony cause he knows he won’t judge him. There’s no feelings involved, right?

2. Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the backrow slacker?

Tony has come to the conclusion that the only way to get Howard’s attention is if he puts absolutely no effort into anything at all, which is why he’s currently taking graduate-level courses as Edward Carbonell but Tony Stark is failing out of high school. Any attention is better than no attention, right?

And maybe it helps that his teachers come to him after class and suggest that he find himself a tutor and did you know that Bucky, Mr. Gorgeous himself, works in our tutoring program? I’m sure he’d love to help you, Mr. Stark. Okay, so maybe they don’t call Bucky gorgeous, maybe that’s just Tony’s own mind, but it’s not like he’s wrong. But Tony gave up on school a long time ago and Bucky has a motorcycle and wears leather jackets and is super popular all while having straight-A’s. There’s no way he even knows Tony’s name, let alone would ever like him.

3. Rivals to lovers AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

Bucky isn’t entirely certain how he ended up as a supervillain’s sidekick and he definitely isn’t sure that he really wants to be there but he won’t deny to himself that the best part of the job is facing off against Iron Lad while Captain America and the Black Widow are fighting each other for control of the Deathstick of Destiny or whatever it is this week.

Iron Lad’s just so cute with his sense of justice and his wit and the conviction that he and Bucky are destined to be nemeses for life. And one time, a building fell on top of them and Bucky got to peel him out of his compromised suit and that was the best thing ever because he got to see Iron Lad’s flight suit, which accentuates the most perfect ass ever. Seriously, Bucky just wants to reach down and squeeze but he’s pretty sure that then Iron Lad might actually use the unibeam that he’s been threatening to use for ages.

4. Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Oof, Bucky does. He comes back from HYDRA to find a world that’s absolutely a bigger mess than he remembers it being and maybe that’s those rose-tinted glasses Sam keeps accusing him and Steve of wearing but he looks at Iron Man, taking out the ultra-wealthy and distributing the money back to the people, and then he looks at the Avengers and how they keep causing more property damage than they can fix and decides that he knows what side he wants to be on.

He slips out of the compound in the dead of night, unnoticed by all except Natasha who just wishes him luck, and tracks Iron Man across two continents and an ocean back to his secret hideout - in Latveria of all places, who knew that Doom could share? - knocks on the door and when a man with the prettiest brown eyes Bucky has ever seen answers the door, Bucky announces, “Hi, I’m here to be a villain.”

In retrospect, he decides as he’s dragging a fainted Tony inside, that might not have been the best way to introduce himself to his future employer.

5. Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

The thing is, Tony knows that soulmates aren’t always perfect. His parents were soulmates and they absolutely hated each other. But Ana and Jarvis were soulmates too, and so is Aunt Peggy and Uncle Daniel, and they loved each other very much, so even though he’s been alive for almost 40 years and never once met his soulmate, he still has high hopes.

Bucky fell from the train without knowing his soulmate and the only thing he can thinks is Good. They won’t wind up with someone like Bucky, someone who has nightmares from his time as a lab experiment, who kills people without even blinking, whose main purpose in life is to be the shadow that dogs Steve Rogers’ heels. But then he wakes up.

And then he forgets he ever even had a soulmate.

The next time Bucky remembers anything, it’s 2014, he’s in a glass room (cage, really), and there’s someone standing with their back to him outside of the cage, doing something on a tablet.

“What’s it gonna take to let me out of here?” Bucky asks.

The person jumps, turns, and then a slow smile spreads over his face. “I don’t know, how about dinner?”

Fuck.

6. Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)

Harley’s got a protective streak a mile wide (Bucky thinks he’s learned it from Uncle Steve), which is why Bucky isn’t surprised when Harley comes home with a black eye and immediately proclaims that it wasn’t his fault, there were these two big kids picking on a younger girl on the playground.

“Oh yeah and here’s this, I guess,” Harley mumbles and shoves a piece of paper with a phone number on it in Bucky’s direction.

Bucky holds an ice pack up to Harley’s eye and asks, “What’s this?”

“Mr. Stark’s phone number. I said I wanted it in case Peter wanted to play but he seemed nice and looked like your type and I’m tired of you going out with jerks who don’t like me so I got it for you.”

Well, leaving that aside, “Who’s Peter?”

“Morgan’s brother. He’s in my class and he helped when he saw I was helping her out.”

Right, like that explains anything. He dials the number, intent on seeing if this Peter can tell him the full story, only for someone to say, “Stark residence, can I help you?”

Bucky doesn’t believe in love at first sight (er, voice) but whoever it is has got such a pretty voice and he kind of wants to hear them moaning his name so he purrs, “You sure can, doll.”

Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised when they make an offended sound and hang up.

7. Doctor AU: Which one is the longsuffering doctor? Which one is the patient?

“Mr. Stark, please, I’m begging you, wear PPE when you’re working in your lab.”

“But then when would I get to see you?” Tony chirps, seemingly uncaring that Bucky is setting his fingers.

“At dinner,” Bucky says before he can think better of it.

They both freeze. Then Tony slowly says, “And that’s okay?”

Honestly? Probably not but Tony has been coming to the ER for months for his lab-related injuries and Bucky is always his doctor and they always end up flirting and he’s tired of this back-and-forth. So when he’s done splinting Tony’s fingers, he raises his hand to his mouth and brushes the softest of kisses over the back, smiling when Tony gasps.

8. Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?

Howard Stark is convinced that someone is out to get him, his wife, and his son. He can easily take care of him and his wife but Tony recently moved out of the mansion, insistent on making his own way in the world so surreptitiously, Howard hires Bucky to keep an eye on Tony by moving into the apartment next door.

It’s probably the easiest job Bucky has ever had because Tony almost never leaves their building, too caught up in his projects as he is. He gets food delivered and sometimes, he has friends over but otherwise, he’s pretty much a recluse.

And that’s a damn shame that is because Bucky has really only seen Tony twice so far and both times have about knocked him flat out on the floor.

9. Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

Crown Prince Anthony Edward Stark, first of his name, heir to the throne, would like everyone to know that he absolutely did not sign up for this, no way, no how. Just about everyone on the ship though, sees it when he gives Captain Barnes what he obviously thinks is a secretive wink. And they all know that they’re going to hear it when the captain and his “captive” go below the deck that night.

Sam scratches his head awkwardly and looks over at Admiral Rhodes on the other ship. “You want to come over?” he calls. “They could be down there for a while.”

Rhodes sighs and crosses over. “Chessboard still set up?” he asks.

“Nope, Nat had to move it for one of her poker games. But I remember where the pieces were.”

10. Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

Everyone knows that Tony and Bucky are going to get married someday - except for Tony and Bucky themselves. Steve has been trying for ages to get Bucky to see that Tony is pining just as hard for him as Bucky is and Rhodes has been doing the same for Tony but they’re just...so oblivious. It makes Natasha want to bang her head against the wall - or maybe just lock them in a closet.

Except Clint tried that, right after Tony gave Bucky his first kiss when they were fifteen and Bucky just thought it was because they were friends. They’d been in that closet all night and when Clint finally opened the door in the morning, they were snuggling but still not together so he thinks they’re just too oblivious. There’s a school-wide betting pool on if they’ll get their act together before graduation.

(It’s okay though because Tony and Bucky have been dating since they were freshman. They’re just waiting to see how long it takes everyone else to notice.)