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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david x reader #writers block #bethanysnow #quiet music

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miyagihawk · 4 years ago

Note

for hawk

lover of mine - 5sos

it's a selfship anthem, bby!

the lyrics make so much sense

i love 5sos!!!! ty for the request :)

lover of mine | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: cursing, i think that’s it?

summary: based on lover of mine by 5sos <3

Lover of mine

Maybe we'll take some time

Kaleidoscope mind

Gets in the way

Your relationship with Hawk was more complicated than most.

You had to be patient with him. His mind was like a kaleidoscope; his thoughts were in intricate patterns that you could never comprehend. It amazed you, but it also frustrated you when you couldn’t understand him.

And when it seemed like you finally did understand, he would shift into new colors and you’d have to start all over again.

“I just- I don’t get you, Hawk! Why are you always lying to me?” you said loudly, already feeling exhausted from the argument.

“I’m not! You just never believe me!” he turned it on you. Like always.

You looked at him with a hard stare and crossed your arms. “Did you or did you not break Demetri’s arm?” you asked in a calmer, but still threatening tone.

You already knew the answer; everyone was talking about what happened in the laser tag room. But here Hawk was, denying it. You just couldn’t grasp why he hid so much from you.

When he stayed silent with his gaze not meeting yours, you sat on your bed with an exasperated sigh.“We should take a break,” you interrupted the quiet atmosphere, looking up at where your boyfriend stood in front of you.

“What?” Hawk finally met your eyes with a hurt expression.

You patted the spot on the bed next to you, and he sat reluctantly. “I’m just tired. We need a break Hawk.”

“We don’t need a break,” he protested quietly, and the subtle sadness in his voice was enough to make your heart pang with hurt.

Hope and I pray

Darling, that you will stay

Butterfly lies

Chase them away

He was scared. Even through all the countless arguments and lies, you never left. Now you were suggesting a break, and Hawk knows from seeing other relationships that they always just end in an actual break up.

In a weird way, you did want to scare him. Because he would never change if you didn’t. You hated the idea of a break, but maybe Hawk would finally stop lying to you if you showed him you were serious.

“It’s not a breakup,” you assured, because you knew what he was thinking. For once. “We just need time apart for a little bit. To think.”

“About what?” he asked defensively, starting to raise his voice again.

“You and I. We’re quite toxic, you know?” you contrasted his volume in a lighter tone, making his face relax and his lips turn up a bit.

His small smile dropped suddenly, replaced by an anxious expression. “Don’t leave me Y/N.”

Your heart dropped at his words, and you wanted to wrap your arms around him. To tell him you’d never leave and that it was all okay. But it wasn’t all okay.

You grabbed his hand instead, “You’re my best friend. I love you. But I need this, okay? We both do. Just some time to figure out how we can fix... us.”

“I can fix it now, we don’t need to take a break. Please. I’ll never lie to you again. I just- I hate disappointing you,” he pleaded, tightening his hand around yours, and you wanted to give in.

But you knew that letting this go on, this never ending cycle, would only end with the both of you in a huge crash and burn.

“You said that last time,” you gave him a sad smile. “Let’s just figure our shit out, and then come back better for each other. We need this Hawk.”

6 months later

Things didn’t end so well after your break with Hawk. After spending some time apart, you two were just never close again.

None of you planned for it to happen; you just drifted away from each other. And neither of you exactly established when the “break” would be over.

So for the next few months, you passed each other in the halls without any acknowledgment of the other’s existence. Of course you missed him, but not being with him just became the new normal. And you accepted it and pushed your feelings aside.

“So you’ll meet us there? You sure you don’t want the limo to pick you up?” your friend Cara asked from across the lunch table.

“Yeah don’t worry about me, Jesse’s picking me up,” you replied, making the rest of your friends wiggle their eyebrows teasingly.

“What happened to prom with the girls, Y/N? I thought we established no boyfriends during prom season,” Cara pouted playfully, and you elbowed her in the ribs.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He just asked me to prom and that’s it,” you corrected.

Your other friend jumped in, “And why not? Jesse is so cute.”

As she asked, your eyes trailed away from your friends and towards a certain someone with loud red hair, sitting across the room with his karate posse.

Your group noticed your lack of attention and turned to see what you were looking at. They sighed in unison, making you bring your focus back to them.

“He’s why, isn’t he?” Cara gave you an understanding smile and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay. Just have fun tonight.”

You only nodded, giving your kind friends a soft smile of appreciation.

As much as you tried to convince yourself that you’ve moved on fully, the boy with a kaleidoscope mind would always have a place in your heart.

Where is he?

You paced around your living room anxiously, checking your phone for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour.

You scrolled through the numerous texts you’ve sent, contemplating if you should send another one. Calling him wasn’t even an option; it went straight to voicemail everytime.

After an hour and a half, you gave up waiting and hoping that your prom date would show up. You flopped down onto the couch despairingly, replying to worried texts from your friends.

‘I’m not going to make it, just don’t worry about me. Have fun my loves.’ you typed, throwing your phone onto the floor right after.

You didn’t want to ask them to pick you up and ruin their night, and you were honestly too drained from being stood up to call an Uber.

So prom night ended up with you spread out on the couch with your outfit that you’ve planned out months ago, eating out of a carton of rocky road ice cream.

Honestly, it could’ve been worse. You could’ve been spending the night with an absolute jerk named Jesse. (a/n: so sorry if ur name is jesse lmao)

In the middle of your rom com movie marathon, an abrupt knock at the front door made you sit up from your pathetic, ice cream eating position on the sofa.

Immediately, you turned off the TV and tiptoed towards the door. You silently grabbed the baseball bat next to it, while squinting to see through the peephole.

Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw him.

Clad in a black suit, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Shifting on his feet and chewing on his lip nervously, as he waited for you to open the door.

The boy you didn’t know you needed to see until now.

What is he doing here?

You covered your mouth in shock as you ran to the mirror to check if you had chocolate stains around your mouth. You smoothed down your hair and straightened out your dress in a frenzy, before unlocking the door with a deep breath in.

“Hawk?” you tried to act surprised, which wasn’t hard because your heart was racing.

He took a second to look at you in your wasted prom attire, and he was locked in a trance for a second before he snapped out of it. “Oh... uh, these are for you,” he held out the flowers to you and you took them with a smile.

“Wow, I love them. Thank you,” you brought them up to your nose for a whiff of your favorite floral scent. “So, what are you doing here?” you asked awkwardly.

“Oh crap, sorry, do you want to come in?” you said before he would answer, and you opened the door wider so he could step inside.

Hawk looked around the room where he’s been countless times, and he frowned at the sight of 13 Going On 30 paused on the screen with half melted ice cream on the coffee table. That movie plus the sweet dessert was your absolute comfort pairing, and it made him sad that you needed it.

“Cara texted me, and I was worried,” he finally spoke, answering your earlier question. You suddenly felt embarrassed as you placed the bouquet in a vase. You didn’t want to be pitied. Especially by your ex-boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” you said bluntly, busying yourself with the flowers so that you wouldn’t have to face him. You hadn’t talked to him since the night you suggested the break, and you already felt too exhausted from tonight’s events to even talk about it with him. “It’s better that I didn’t go to prom with that dick.”

Hawk chuckled at your remark, and you felt more at ease. The tension between you was thicker than an iceberg, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“So did you leave? Or are you just dressed up like that for me?” you smiled, sitting down on the couch where he followed.

He laughed again, lightening the mood even more. “I was there, but you know, Cara told me about what happened and... I just felt like I needed to come. It was lame though. The whole thing is just dancing. And I don’t dance,” Hawk explained, and you found yourself smiling at the thought of him caring about you. “But I know how excited you were about prom, so I thought I’d bring it to you. Some romantic shit like that.”

Your eyebrows raised at “romantic shit”, but you decided not to say anything about it. Although, it did make your cheeks heat up and you hoped he didn’t notice. “That’s really sweet Hawk. Thank you. Really,” you placed your hand on top of his, but you recoiled awkwardly because it felt too intimate, given the circumstances.

You cleared your throat, “So... since you’re bringing prom to me, does that mean I get a dance?” you got up and stood in front of him with your arms playfully crossed.

Hawk squinted his blue eyes at you, crossing his arms as well, “I don’t dance, remember?”

“For me you will, right? Or I could just, you know, dance by myself. It’s already been such a great night for me,” you teased, walking away from him towards a clear space in the living room.

He groaned from behind you and got up to follow, making you cheer happily. “For you I will,” he stated under his breath, releasing dozens of butterflies in your stomach.

Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

You turned on your Dad’s old record player, where a slow, jazzy, 60s vinyl was spinning. You almost wanted to change it because it felt too romantic, but Hawk was already waiting behind you and you were scared he would change his mind.

The rush his presence gave you made you boldly put your hands on his shoulders, and he stiffly placed his own on the curve of your waist. Your hands were locked at the nape of his neck; his hold on you was light as if you were fragile china.

You forgot how intoxicating it felt to be this close to him, and you wondered how you went so long without that feeling.

The both of you swayed to the smooth melodies of Nina Simone with interlocked eyes, and with every second his hands on your hips became more relaxed. You rested your head on his chest, pulling him closer.

For a song or two, none of you said anything; there was just an unspoken appreciation of each other’s presence. After 6 months without him, you needed this.

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

“I should’ve never let you go,” Hawk whispered close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I was the one who wanted the break. It’s my fault,” you opposed, lifting your head up from his chest to look up at him.

He raised one of his hands to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and it brought a warm smile to your face. “But I didn’t chase after you,” his lips turned down into a frown.

You put your hands on the sides of his face while you two continued to sway to the staticky vinyl. “Maybe it’s both of our faults,” you laughed lightly, touching his soft skin.

“It’s me Y/N. I’m the one who lied to you throughout the whole relationship. I’m so sorry,” Hawk looked down at you with glossy eyes. “I’ve done so much fucked up shit. But you’re the only thing I got right. I hate myself for ruining it too.”

Your felt yourself melt at his confession. “It’s not ruined,” you disputed. “You aren’t perfect and I’m not either. I shouldn’t have given up on us. I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes in peace as your hands ran through his bright hair. It was down from its usual style, giving him a softer look.

“Maybe we both messed up. But I’m never giving you away again Y/N. I won’t make that mistake. I love you,” the boy you’ve missed for months admitted, saying everything you wanted to hear.

You kissed him in reply.

a/n: ah idk if i like this but i hope u do, i feel like my writings are getting repetitive im having bad writers block (as u can tell by how slow im doing requests)

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 3 years ago

Note

I really like your meta about Wanda. So this isn't a criticism, more a question. When you talk about emotional and irrational female leads, I wonder if the reason it doesn't bother me as much is that when infinity war came out, Quill and Thor (not killing Thanos straight away at Wakanda) kind of both did a similar thing. I don't see that being attributed to them being men. Hope that makes sense. Or is it you are more concerned that this will be attributed to them being women?

It’s not so much that as...well, it’s partly that. But it’s mostly about numbers and patterns, the things that turn one-off plotlines into tropes and trends. In a vacuum, there’s nothing wrong with this type of storyline going to a female character, where grief and power combine to make her increasingly and dangerously unstable to the point where she either becomes a villain or can only find redemption through sacrificing herself. But nothing exists in a vacuum, and the actual context is that I’m having a hard time thinking of any male characters who get this type of storyline. Instead it tends to be a thing that’s written for female characters, the implication—whether it’s deliberate or not—being that women are too emotional to handle power past a certain point. Off the top of my head, comics Wanda, MCU Wanda, comics Dark Phoenix, definitely the first Dark Phoenix film (as I understand it, the more recent one was somewhat better this way), and Aida in Agents of SHIELD fit into this trope, and then you have even dumber stuff like Oz the Great and Powerful where the Wicked Witch of the West used to be good actually until she had her heart broken by a dude and then she just...kinda...turned evil?

In the context of the MCU specifically, it’s...kind of worse, although not quite as much as it would have been a few years ago, but—well, I mentioned numbers. In MCU canon at this point, only looking at what’s actually been released so far or will be released within the next month or so (and assuming I’m counting and adding right), we have:

22 movies named after one or two title characters

7 movies named after an ensemble and therefore not relevant to this discussion

6 Disney+ shows named for 1-2 title characters

What If, which I’m counting as an ensemble show, so it’s also not relevant

7 non-Disney+ shows with 1-2 title characters, and

4 non-Disney+ shows named after an ensemble.

Again assuming I'm counting right (although if I'm not, I don't think I'm off by enough to change my point), that leaves us with 39 movies or shows named after 1-2 characters each. (I’m only counting “the Winter Soldier” as a title character in his show, not in Cap 2, and I’m not counting Ultron at all.) Because a disproportionate number of those movies are about the same handful of dudes, I think it actually ends up being 30 different title characters, even if they shared billing with someone else. Of those title characters, only 8 or maybe 9 are female: Captain Marvel, Black Widow, Wanda, Wasp, Agent Carter, Dagger, Jessica Jones, Ms. Marvel, and arguably Hawkeye, although Kate’s kind of a stretch. (It’s also fair to note that only half of these characters get to be title characters by themselves rather than sharing the title with a guy, but since I’m trying to be fair, I will also note that only Ant-Man has been a title character by himself, and the others seem to have equal billing in their respective pairings. But honestly, that doesn’t make it much better.)

Want to guess how many other title characters get a storyline like Wanda’s, where they maybe start out with the bad guys (although for understandable reasons, if you’re not dead set on hating them from the jump), firmly establish themselves as good guys for multiple entries, and then spiral so far into villainy that apparently they just have to go the redemption = death route to finish things off, with absolutely no guarantees they're coming back from it?

Um…none! None characters! Bucky kind of does something similar, but I really don’t think that counts because it wasn’t his choice at all, and Loki’s arc is more the reverse of that than anything. I never watched The Punisher but I’m pretty sure Frank was an antihero from his introduction so I don’t think that counts either. Supreme Strange in What If is also sort of similar, except he gets a chance to redeem himself after his episode despite destroying—I’m pretty sure—a lot more than Wanda did. Come to think of it, Vision in the zombies What If episode is also pretty similar in that he’s a card-carrying Good Guy who ends up doing some awful, selfish things out of love and eventually sacrifices himself in an attempt to make things right, which is honestly kind of funny in terms of any WandaVision discourse about how she didn’t deserve him or whatever, but just like with Supreme Strange, that’s not the main-timeline version of the character…and it was in a one-off episode that didn’t matter that much because a lot of people didn’t even see it. Plus there’s nothing ickily gendered about it with Vision, because you’re not presented with a multiverse of possibilities where the only sane, stable version of the character is—just as a random example—the relatively low-powered suburban one who’s perfectly content having not come into his full power. Probably the closest any of our many male title characters came to Wanda’s arc was just…the glimpses of alternate-timeline Stranges in Multiverse of Madness. Which, again, were not the main-timeline version of the character like Wanda is.

The MCU has had so few female title characters to begin with. One of them was already dead before she ever got her movie, for fuck's sake. Making Wanda a major character, letting her be so incredibly powerful, and then doing this with her is just—

Again, in a vacuum, it wouldn't be such a huge deal. In a vacuum, or in a world where we've had a roughly equal number of male and female title characters in the MCU, with comparable levels of agency, it could be a compelling storyline, at least if you find a way to do it without sacrificing existing characterization. In a world where the MCU has at least experimented more with morally gray protagonists outside of Netflix, it would still bug me but it wouldn't be so bad, because there would be precedent, and there would probably be more of an attempt from the editing and directing--rather than just from Elizabeth Olsen's acting, by all accounts--to make sure the character stays sympathetic. In the context of the numbers and storylines we actually have so far, it’s...really kind of gross!

And actually if you consider a handful of additional major characters who haven’t been title characters, it gets a little worse, because still the only marginally relevant dudes I can think of were relatively minor SHIELD agents (well, and Ward) that we assumed were good guys who were later revealed to be HYDRA, and...Sharon Carter making herself the Power Broker because of reasons, which isn’t really relevant to the whole “women are too emotional for power” trope but is pretty weird in terms of “all the card-carrying Good Guys in this franchise who kinda decide to switch sides have something in common”. So there's that, too.

#conversations #anonymous #meta #my meta #wanda maximoff #marvel cinematic universe #doctor strange 2 spoilers #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #wandavision #wanda maximoff defense squad #marvel what if

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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nat-20s · 4 years ago

Text

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #AHHH this is just over TWO THOUSAND words #i really was like for the last prompt i will not Shut Up lmao #also fun fact! part 4 was specifically designed to not be clear whether it was from jon or martins perspective

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rivalsforlife · 4 years ago

Text

Phoenix Wright: The Truth Reborn: Oh No We’re Doing This Again

hi.

Nearly two months ago, I wrote an essay summarizing and making very wild conclusions about the second Takarazuka Musical. I did this about two and a half years after watching the first Takarazuka musical. As such I did not have the full context for many things from the musical and was relying mostly on my memory, which blocked many things from this musical for my own safety. However, just this week, I decided to rewatch it, because I enjoy tormenting myself. I said I wouldn’t write anything on it. Here I am writing something on it.

Here’s the youtube thumbnail so that you know what you’re getting yourself into. And here, of course, is the link. This is the HD version which may be slightly more pleasant to watch. Maybe.

It was not quite as cringe in a funny way as the second musical to me, and therefore this essay may be less funny, but I feel like I’m doing a disservice to people by providing a summary of the second musical while completely neglecting the first. Quite possibly doing this is even more of a disservice. I just eagerly await the day that the third musical is translated because *that* will be the day that I finally shuffle off this mortal coil. Either way, I want to write this stuff down so that I never have to watch the musical again out of curiosity.

The following essay will contain major spoilers for both the first and second Phoenix Wright Takarazuka musicals, as I will be using many points from this musical to argue my thesis of the second musical. ... like you were going to watch them anyways.

This one broke 8k. I’m dead inside.

Introducing The Director

Again another disclaimer that I don’t have anything against the actresses or the theatre troupe. I DO have something against Suzuki Kei, who I recently learned is the writer and director of all three of the Ace Attorney Takarazuka musicals, and is quite possibly my mortal nemesis.

This man is the one who brought this monstrosity into the world.

This man, allegedly, cleared the first four ace attorney games *seven times* before sitting down to write these musicals. He played these goddamn games seven times and did not take in a single word. The man clicked through them mindlessly while watching a badly written legal romance drama in the background and got them completely confused. I genuinely have no idea how this man could have played these games more times than even me and yet managed to get so many characters (MAYA!!!!) completely and utterly wrong. This haunts me every day, truly.

This man played Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Justice for All, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trials and Tribulations, and Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney seven times. SEVEN TIMES EACH!! and was told to create a musical based on the series. He played these games seven times each and you know what he said?? You know what he said?? “This sucks, I’m getting rid of all of Phoenix’s backstory, butchering half the characters, and writing Phoenix/Lana fanfiction, but also rewriting all of Lana’s backstory so that she was Phoenix’s childhood friend, and you know what, I’m changing her name for good measure.”

I think this man played the games seven times each and then hated it so much and was so sick of it he tried to write something that destroyed as much of the series as possible while still being vaguely recognizable. And then somehow it became a massive hit because people like me see this and go “what the actual hell” and watch it, or people who haven’t played the games see this and go “wow what a great musical!” and then he wrote TWO MORE, destroying EVEN MORE every time in his wake, until finally, finally, he stopped after making Edgeworth straight and time traveling into the past to face off against a corrupt Gregory. I guess that was the last straw.

I have to issue a disclaimer here that for legal reasons this is a joke. I don’t actually hate this man and would not punch him in the face if I met him because that would be rude, and he is entitled to his wrong interpretation of the games. I don’t know what his thought process was. But allegedly he did play the games seven times according to the wiki. This whole essay here is satire and not slander and I don’t want to offend this guy if he somehow stumbles across my nonsense tumblr post. At the same time: Suzuki Kei blink twice if you need help.

Anyways half the reason that I’m making this essay is because I want to share my fake ao3 page for this musical. The other half will become apparent later.

Sorry if that’s illegible because of tumblr quality it’s not really important. All you really need to know is that it’s a fake ao3 screenshot for the musical. Also in the author’s note I said he played the games four times but it was actually seven I just remembered wrong because I didn’t want to believe it.

at this point you may be like “Grace shut up and get to the actual musical” and okay, fine, let’s start this nonsense. Also note that I may be referencing things from my essay on the second musical very frequently; I’m not going to force you to go read that though because the fact that you’re reading this is enough of a torment already.

The Musical Begins

Unlike the second musical, this one opens with some narration from Phoenix.

Transcript:

Phoenix: I’m reviewing a particular case at the moment. To me, this case... is one I’ll never forget.

Immediately I think this is important because it establishes that this whole musical takes place in a flashback that Phoenix is reflecting on. Why is this important? Because we know, by the time of the second musical which takes place three years later, Leona is dead.

Knowing that Leona is inherently doomed to die of her Sad Woman Disease paints this whole musical in a different light. It’s not Phoenix reflecting on how he got back together with his lover; it’s Phoenix dwelling on their past together, and the opportunities they had, before her life was so cruelly and inexplicably taken away. We don’t know if Phoenix’s reminiscing takes place before or after Leona’s death... but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was after.

Phoenix, still in the present, starts to sing. “A wave appears on the horizon like a mirage, it trembles, then vanishes. Your voice, carried upon the waves, fades upon the shore, erasing the splendor of the past.”

This line actually shows up in the second musical, sung by Lucia about her imprisoned fiance quite possibly. It’s kind of hard to tell what the meaning of these songs even are. They’re too abstract for me I think. But this line appears very frequently in the first musical when Phoenix is thinking about Leona.

Then we enter the flashback time.

Phoenix inexplicably yells at a newspaper saleswoman. This is not relevant to anything whatsoever. Then Larry barges in to the office, looking for Maya. Phoenix describes him as “A real trouble maker, but you just can’t hate the guy”, the latter part of which I think many people would disagree with.

Well, afterwards, Maya comes in. Phoenix describes her like this while making exaggerated “can you believe this shit” gestures.

Transcript:

Phoenix: She’s as ditzy as they come. Oh, and about the outfit... Apparently she comes from a family of spirit mediums. Try not to make fun of her, okay?

Suzuki Kei personally has it out for Maya and I can never forgive him for it. Maya in these musicals is here for pure comedic relief but it’s not even comedic because I just get so angry. How can you play the trilogy seven times and think this about her?? The girl who figured out DL-6?? The girl who told Phoenix to sacrifice her life in order to find the truth?? The girl who put on a brave smile in order to try and cheer up her younger cousin even after she saw her own mother murdered right in front of her eyes?? That Maya Fey?? Ditzy as they come??????

Ugh. Moving on.

Maya and Larry run off, leaving Phoenix to watch the American Broadcast.

Important things to note here are the Godot mug, the little line up of what I think are the messed up little ace attorney figurines beneath the screen, and the fact that while this broadcast is supposedly from and to America the screen is actually not at all showing America. Like literally almost everywhere in the world except North and South America.

The broadcast says that Leona Clyde, age 24, was arrested for murdering the senator Robert Cole! Leona Clyde -- that’s Phoenix’s ex-girlfriend! He runs off to the detention center.

She is not happy to see him.

Leona: Mr. Wright... I’m not the woman you once knew.

Let’s Play A Matching Game

Sorry for the abundance of screenshots that are going to be throughout this section. Phoenix convinces Leona to let him defend her. Some of the conversation seems... familiar.

Leona: No one would defend someone who admits to killing a senator. I’m waiting for a court-appointed attorney.

Edgeworth: Every defense attorney I’ve talked to has turned me down.

Phoenix: In that case, let me defend you.

Game Phoenix: Let me defend you.

Leona: Don’t be ridiculous!

Edgeworth: Don’t be ridiculous.

Phoenix: I’ll never accept that you’re a murderer. Let me prove your innocence!

Game Phoenix: Huh? Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to prove that Miles Edgeworth is innocent.

Leona: I’ve already confessed my guilt.

Gumshoe: He confessed that he did it! In court!

Leona: It’s foolish to think you can win this case.

Edgeworth: My case is near hopeless, Wright.

Leona: (in response to phoenix offering to defend her) No you won’t! Don’t ever come here again.

Edgeworth: Look, just go away, and leave me alone!

Phoenix: You of all people should know. Once I decide to do something, I see it through to the end.

Edgeworth: Once you start on something, you always see it through, don’t you?

Leona: I never thought that you’d be representing me.

Phoenix: Ah, who could have guessed this day would come?

Edgeworth: Not me.

Phoenix: You believed in me. You saved me. And this time, I swear... I swear I’ll save you!

Game Phoenix: Edgeworth believed in me, and I believe in him. I’m the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I’m the only one who can help him.

I could’ve done a few more, but tumblr is already threatening to murder my laptop.

So long story short, Phoenix manages to convince his lover to let him be the defense on the case. Then immediately after swearing to save Leona, he starts singing a song, which I’m not screencapping because this is enough:

“As long as there are people in this world, there’s only one path I will follow! As long as there is love in this world, there’s only one path I will believe in!”

Edgeworth sings this in the second musical after saying that he returned to California because of Phoenix. Phoenix sings it now after swearing to defend Leona. You draw your own conclusions.

And then we finally get the opening credits. Eleven minutes in.

Just Pretend This Is Narumitsu Fanfiction

Following the credits, we see a beautiful beach. Couples (exclusively heterosexual, of course,) dance and embrace in the background for some time, before revealing Phoenix and Leona, in the Even Further Past, before the LSATs or whatever the ace attorney universe’s excuse for law school exams are.

Phoenix establishes his absolute hatred of change, an important characterization moment.

Phoenix: The view here never changes, huh?

Phoenix reminisces on when they were kids. Leona’s parents were both lawyers (they’re both lawyers) and sometimes they would be like lawyers with her when she was a kid. This inspired her to also become a lawyer after their tragic death of Sickness. They never specify what the sickness is that caused two people who must be relatively young to die while Leona was in her early twenties at the latest. It may be whatever sickness claimed Leona’s life later. Sad Woman Disease. (Sad Man Disease for her father, I guess?)

Phoenix also talks about why he’s becoming a lawyer.

Phoenix: Watching you chase your dream inspired me to become a lawyer too.

So, it’s not “my childhood friend looked sad in a newspaper” because I guess that makes no sense or is too gay or something. But this is another important piece of Phoenix characterization. His entire life so far has been focused around Leona. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and then Phoenix decided to become a lawyer solely because Leona was becoming a lawyer. Not even to try and get back into contact with her after she moved away or anything; just because he’s so obsessed with her that he wants to have the same career as her, then they can run a Mom & Pop Law Firm or something, years in the future, after years of happy marriage and a few children or like whatever the hell.

Well, there’s a few steps they’ll need to get to that. At this point Phoenix still hasn’t confessed his feelings for Leona. He does so here, on this beach.

Leona tries to protest.

Leona: But I’m pushy, selfish, and only care about my goals... You’d get fed up with me.

Phoenix: That’s what I’ve always admired about you. That’s who I’ve been chasing all these years. That’s the only person... I love.

Sooo, Phoenix, your type is pushy selfish people who only care about their goals...? In the first, older lower-quality video translation it was “only care about my work”, too. Hm. Things to think about.

They sing a little duet together. Then we go back to present-day of what’s technically still a flashback. Whatever. Murder is happening.

Back To The Murder

So some plot things to establish: Leona is the legal counsel of Governor Miller, who is running for president in the AMERICAN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. After the flashback so that Phoenix has some time to change clothes, they show an interview of him talking about the murder.

Governor Miller: I vow to forge a peaceful country with my own two hands, and to prepare myself for whatever may lie ahead.

Reporters: Through thick and thin, he’s a friend of the people!

The Takarazuka musicals are not very good at hiding their killers.

Phoenix: Oh yeah... It’s almost time for the presidential election, isn’t it?

NEVER FORGET, WRIGHT. THIS IS AMERICA. LAND OF THE FREE! god what even was that line.

Anyways, we meet Gumshoe, who is incompetent once again. Maya runs around the crime scene, picks up the murder weapon, puts her fingerprints all over everything, moves things around, all while Phoenix is like “lol get a load of the world’s stupidest girl” or whatever. But who cares about that.

It’s time to get to the only valid part of this musical.

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Villain Solo

You may have seen this one before.

Edgeworth arrives, but not really. It’s like Phoenix heard Edgeworth was prosecuting and immediately entered a dream-like state, where Edgeworth is heralded by the sound of trumpets in Great Revival. He’s played by a different actress than in the other two musicals, since I think she retired in between the six or so months from this musical to the second. She still plays the role well, though, or as well as can be when you’re written in an ace attorney Takarazuka musical.

Shrouded in scarlet solitude... it’s Edgeworth.

Yes, those are six Edgeworths. Yes, they pick Phoenix up and carry him around and dance with him. Yes, it was probably not meant to be at all homoerotic.

He sings a song that’s called “My rule”. I only figured this out later, but it’s loosely based on a “catchphrase” of his in the Japanese version - in game 1 he says something along the lines of “All I can do is get every defendant declared guilty! So I make that my policy.” In DD in his dramatic anime introduction before the trial, he says “I intend to question the defendant with all I have. For that is a part of my creed.” “So I make that my policy” and “For that is a part of my creed”, to my understanding, are both translated from the same line, which I think is like, “sore ga watashi no ruru”, “That is my rule.” (If I’m wrong, please correct me.) In this song he sings about how he’ll reduce all criminals to ash and such, basically talks about his game 1 prosecuting strategy as “my rule”.

It’s very fun and probably if you want to only watch one number of this musical, it can be this one. It starts about 26:10 in the video I linked.

Once the musical number is done, Phoenix and Edgeworth stare at each other, and the background fades into the courtroom, so court begins. I feel like I should note that Phoenix has not picked up any evidence or talked to any witnesses in this investigation except for Gumshoe, since Maya just moved some things around and then Phoenix had some weird fever dream about Edgeworth which presumably took up the rest of the day.

The Trial, Day 1

Edgeworth: Consider it a prelude to the poignant Greek tragedy that’s about to unfold.

Maya: The real tragedy’s your pompous attitude!

Those are the only screenshots I took of this trial day. Here’s a summary, though:

The trial starts off with Leona confessing, Phoenix says “no I think she’s innocent”, and since ace attorney doesn’t care about the defendant’s wishes he’s allowed to proceed. For some reason Leona lets him do this without complaint.

Gumshoe is the first witness, he claims to have caught Leona red-handed at the scene of the crime, standing over the corpse. Phoenix tries to claim that since Gumshoe didn’t see Leona committing the crime, he didn’t actually catch her red-handed, to which Edgeworth responds “What do you think being caught red-handed means?”

Once Gumshoe is dismissed, Lotta takes the stand. She has a photo of the actual moment of the crime, where Leona is holding a knife in the air in front of the victim.

The Takarazuka musicals like to do this thing where the image is blurry and zoomed out, but then Phoenix will go “I’VE NOTICED A CONTRADICTION” and it zooms in really far as the resolution increases drastically in order to show you the contradiction that is impossible to spot for yourself, because they don’t want people figuring out the mystery in this musical based off of a video game where you have to solve the mystery yourself. Anyways Phoenix zooms in on this photo and sees that there’s blood on Leona’s hand, presumably before she stabbed the victim. How did it get there?

Edgeworth suggests the victim was stabbed multiple times. Phoenix says the autopsy report contradicts that. Edgeworth, uncharacteristically, does not update it to suit his argument.

Phoenix concludes that this photo is not showing the moment Leona stabbed the victim, but the moment Leona removed the knife! ... Which somehow casts doubt on her having been the one to stab the victim. Because as everyone knows, anyone wanting to kill someone would never remove a knife, it’s not like they’d bleed out faster that way, or anything.

And this whole contradiction is confusing because presumably if the victim was stabbed and then the knife was removed, they’d know that happened, because then the knife would not be found stuck in the victim’s body, since the victim was only stabbed once. So this shouldn’t be news to the prosecution that someone removed the knife after stabbing. But the investigation was headed by the most incompetent version of Gumshoe ever, so. sure. I guess no one knew.

That at least manages to extend the trial another day.

This Totally Has To Be Illegal

After the trial, Phoenix goes to talk to Governor Miller, aka Mr. Totally The Real Killer. Phoenix asks him why he decided to hire Leona as his legal advisor.

Basically, it’s because her parents were both renowned lawyers. Her father was a Chief Prosecutor, and her mother was a defense attorney. ... a prosecutor and a defense attorney couple... who does that remind us of...

Phoenix points out that just because her parents were good lawyers, it doesn’t mean she’d necessarily be one. Miller says that, sure, but she is actually really talented, and her law school marks were spectacular. Phoenix says “WHY WERE YOU LOOKING AT HER LAW SCHOOL MARKS”, like it’s somehow? suspicious? for a government official hiring legal counsel to look at their law school marks?

Apparently it IS suspicious because Governor Miller freaks out and asks if this is an interrogation. Before Phoenix can press much further, he gets a phone call, and leaves Phoenix alone in a big room.

So naturally Phoenix behaves like a fully grown adult running a law firm.

If all he did was sit in the chair, lift up a desk lamp, and poke his finger on a pen, that’s one thing. But then he leans over, OPENS THE GOVERNOR’S DESK DRAWER, and finds a knife that’s just sitting there casually. It looks like a butter knife. It’s not anything major. Maybe the dude just wanted to butter his toast?

I mean I know Phoenix will dig around in stuff whenever in the games, but he has no reason to suspect Governor Miller at all, much less dig through his drawer probably full of confidential government documents to lift up a knife that he thinks is suspicious. It’s not even covered in blood or anything?

Naturally Governor Miller’s assistant comes in just then, and Phoenix puts the knife. in his breast pocket.

bud. It may look like a butter knife, but putting knives up against your chest is not a great idea. Much less stealing a knife from a governor?

Well, in his panic, he accidentally knocks over a bunch of books on the desk. The governor’s assistant helps him pick them up, and they find a photo. Look a little familiar?

The photo has the assistant, the victim Robert Cole, Governor Miller, and the victim’s brother who died in an incident two years ago. He’s the “Neil Marshall” of this musical, and he died in what was essentially the SL-9 incident. Same general premise, except it occurred in the courthouse, and the names are different.

AND FINALLY WE REACH THE END OF ACT 1. They do a musical number here which is a weird sort of mashup of the main opening credits song, Edgeworth’s Villain Solo, and the love duet between Phoenix and Leona. They are all such different songs that it sounds a little weird.

ACT 2, FINALLY

The act begins on a sour note with Maya playing with the knife and showing off her characterization, which is one of the most infuriating Maya characterizations you’ll sometimes see around the fandom by people who don’t like Maya.

Maya: Let me whip up my special spirit channeler hamburgers!

sigh.

But then we’re saved (?) by the arrival of EDGEWORTH, who is presumably just here to chat. He asks Phoenix if he’s defending Leona in hopes of winning her back, then says to keep out of it, since it’s a very important case and he can’t understand the gravity of it.

Then Phoenix says this.

Phoenix: Would you be saying that if you were the one on trial? The defendant is in a dark prison, reaching out for hope... Can you imagine the loneliness and sorrow of being ostracized?

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT, EDGEWORTH? CAN YOU IMAGINE IF YOU WERE ON TRIAL AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD DEFEND YOU AND BELIEVED IN YOUR INNOCENCE??

Edgeworth responds to this by essentially rehashing his speech in Turnabout Sisters about how he needs to find all defendants guilty because he can’t guarantee their innocence and all that. Maya gets upset and leaves so that Phoenix and Edgeworth can talk about their childhood in private.

Phoenix once again complains about how people change since nine years old.

Phoenix then says that he has something Edgeworth doesn’t: the POWER TO BELIEVE! Then Maya comes in and tries to spike Edgeworth’s coffee, so he leaves.

The Class Trial

Phoenix explains a bit about Edgeworth and his backstory to Maya. Namely, the class trial. Phoenix was accused of stealing lunch money, Edgeworth stood up for him, but instead of Larry, Leona stood up for him. I guess Suzuki Kei thought “oh the class trial, if Leona stood up for him, it would be so romantic, because she’s a woman, and he’s a man”, or something like that.

Edgeworth wanted to become a Great Lawyer Like His Father! But then he turned cold as ice.

Phoenix: His father got too deeply involved in a case... and paid for it with his life. Edgeworth saw him murdered. He was never the same again. I bet he couldn’t forgive the criminal.

Yeah I bet he couldn’t ever forgive the person he thought killed his father all these years, Phoenix. I bet he really hates that person, Phoenix. I bet he has nightmares about that person killing his father or something, Phoenix.

Phoenix: He vanished, then returned without his mercy or compassion. He had become a monster. When he lost his father, he also lost the ability to believe in others.

So like... one of the most chilling things about this musical is that they never actually solve DL-6. This probably roughly takes place 15 years after DL-6, since they were about the same age when the class trial started, and at least Leona is 24 now. The next musical takes place three years from now, and in it, Edgeworth refers to von Karma as his mentor, implying he’s still around and doing things.

So, in addition to everything else going wrong with this musical, DL-6 still happens, but von Karma never frames Edgeworth for it fifteen years later. The statute of limitations runs out, and von Karma forever gets away with his crime. And Edgeworth has no idea.

What changes did they make to DL-6, though, you may ask? I’m desperate to know as well. In the third musical, which I’ve watched because I hate myself but am unable to fully understand because I don’t know much Japanese, there is a scene where Miles flashbacks to DL-6. It’s abstract, but he makes gun-throwing motions at Gregory, followed by a gunshot sound.

Therefore, in this musical’s internal canon, either Miles Edgeworth shot his father, or he believes he did for the rest of his life.

... moving on.

Phoenix: But he still has his humanity. It’s still there, deep down inside!

At least, if nothing else, Phoenix still believes in him. Even this Takarazuka Musical couldn’t touch that.

The Feenie Sweater

Right after this, Larry barges in, and Phoenix leaves him alone with Maya. The musical tries teasing Larry/Maya, but fortunately, Maya’s having none of it.

Maya: You’re barking up the wrong tree.

Props to this musical for not being as bad as it could have been.

After this, the two sit down on the couch, and Maya asks for more gossip on Phoenix and Leona. Larry launches into a story, which turns into a flashback that ends up being narrated by Phoenix halfway through. This one’s about Phoenix and Leona’s relationship.

This is an interesting line in here, “I’ll guide you to the future”, for it loosely referencing the sort of love ballad Phoenix sings with Lucia in the second musical which is about “I’ll take you to that radiant future”, and he later sings to the memory of Leona right around the time of his big spiral into despair.

I’m sorry if you haven’t read my other essay and just said “wait what” to what I just typed.

Leona was getting ready to move to New York to defend the weak “in the big city”. This is rather strange wording because it implies that California does not in fact have a big city. She says some things in her conversation with Phoenix that probably plant some of his later issues.

Leona: This is the first time we’ll be apart since we were kids.

Leona: We promised we’d always be together.

Leona: I’ll be waiting. Waiting for you to come to me.

Haha. Sure would be a shame... if something were to happen... and they wouldn’t be able to be together anymore...

So some dancers wearing black come in and take off their outer jackets, to symbolize the passage of time. They circle around Phoenix and Leona. In this, you can just barely see, Phoenix is wearing a pink sweater beneath his jacket.

“Oh,” I think to myself, “Is that the Feenie sweater? Are they including it here as a reference to the games?”

Then the dancers keep moving.

THAT IS NOT THE FEENIE SWEATER. That is a pink sweater with a sexily drawn woman on it.

This is the other half of the reason why I decided to go through with making this essay.

This is so incredibly funny to me. Suzuki Kei Who Has Played The Games Seven Times has seen the hand-knit bright pink sweater with a giant red heart on it seven times. The sweater Iris, Phoenix’s girlfriend, lovingly knit for him that he wears all the time even though it is one of the tackiest, cheesiest items of clothing to ever exist. And so, when the costume designers were designing the clothes for College Phoenix Wright, they asked themselves: “Should we include the Feenie sweater?”

and “NO,” someone must have shouted, “NO, we can NOT include the Feenie sweater, it is PINK and it has a HEART on it and it’s TOO GIRLY. Phoenix Wright is a MANLY MAN. He would not EVER wear something PINK with a HEART on it.”

“BUT,” someone else said, “it’s a REFERENCE to the original games, where he DID wear a pink sweater with a heart on it! We MUST include it to pander to the fans!”

“WAIT,” a third person interjected. “I have a BRILLIANT IDEA. We can keep the pink... But to make it VERY CLEAR he is a heterosexual, masculine male... we put a sexy woman on it.”

And Person Three Got A Raise.

Thank god we’re finally halfway done this musical.

We Just Have To Go On With Our Lives Now

There’s plot or something happening. Leona breaks up with Phoenix inexplicably over the phone. Probably because of that freaking sweater. Imagine wearing that. God.

Eventually we go back to Phoenix talking to Leona, and he asks about the Jack Lyon case, which is the rip-off version of the Joe Darke case. Leona is pretty cagey about it, but Phoenix proves that she was there in the gallery that day. Leona refuses to answer, claims again that she killed the victim in her case, and leaves.

This makes Phoenix sad, so he starts singing.

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

If this sounds familiar, it’s the part where I started absolutely losing my mind in the second musical because this line had never shown up before then, I’d forgotten it was in this musical, and Phoenix was screaming it alone in a red room, so I thought he was like desperately resorting to a necromancy ritual in hopes of bringing Leona back to life.

Instead, this line actually has CONTEXT, though it does just end up enforcing my theory. This is Phoenix mourning what he used to have with Leona, wanting to bring the “old her” back, because he’s devastated that people sometimes change. There are several flashbacks of their college days where he’s wearing his Sexy Woman Sweater. He does succeed in winning her back at the end of this musical. Before she dies, of course.

Phoenix in musical 2 still believes that he can bring back what he used to have with Leona... even beyond death. That’s something affirmed by this musical. I’m very grateful to it for somehow managing to enforce my nonsensical theory.

Doctor Ema

After this, Phoenix returns to his office, and meets with someone new.

That’s right! Only now, halfway through the musical, do we actually get to meet the Ema-equivalent to Leona’s Lana-equivalent. Her name is Monica Clyde. She has little rainbow heart stickers on her briefcase, which is the closest thing this musical has to acknowledging that gay people exist.

But what does this little briefcase contain, you may ask? Scientific investigation tools? No.

A full surgical toolset. Because you never know when someone’ll get sick, or when someone will need an entire operation in front of you. I guess.

So yes, Monica Clyde is not a forensic scientist in training, but a doctor! She decided to become a doctor because of her parents, who passed away of The Sickness, and so became a doctor in order to save lives like theirs.

Once more this has much darker and deeper implications than the musical is even aware of, because Monica is so anxious about treating sick people that she carries a full surgical toolset around with her at all times, scared to lose someone like she lost her parents... and then sometime in the next three years, Leona, her big sister, is going to die.

Of what? The strange Sickness that claimed her parents? A car accident? A botched spur-of-the-moment surgery? Whatever it is, Monica was unable to save her, even when she’d been training her entire life for it.

Monica is not mentioned at all throughout the second musical. It’s as if she does not exist.

Because unlike Ema of Rise From The Ashes, Monica is not at the heart of this story. She is, primarily, a plot device here to make Leona not trust Phoenix so that he can angst about their relationship.

What a mess this world is.

The Trial, Part 2

Rather than try to prove Leona’s innocence, Phoenix wants to link the current case to not-SL-9, the Jack Lyon case. He does this by showing this picture.

Senator Cole, the victim, is in this picture. His younger brother whose name I’ve forgotten, the victim of not-SL-9, is also in this picture. They are brothers. It is apparently novel that they are in the same picture, and somehow makes their cases linked.

As well, Governor Miller is in the picture. I guess you could say like... Governor Miller’s legal counsel is the defendant, so that’s another link? Even though the Governor would presumably know a Senator, so this isn’t an unusual group. Right now Phoenix has absolutely nothing to prove that these two cases are linked other than “hey, these two victims are brothers”, but apparently it works. So they spend a lot of time talking about not-SL-9, since Leona has confessed to the murder on day 1 and there is absolutely nothing indicating that she can’t be immediately declared guilty.

They hid the fact that Monica was a hostage in this not-SL-9, meaning that some of the case records were forged. Here’s Edgeworth’s reaction when this comes out.

Edgeworth: This is an outrage! I’m the most influential prosecutor in America! There’s nothing I don’t know!

In RFTA, when Edgeworth learns he’d been using forged evidence to give a man the death penalty, he is devastated, his entire worldview is shaken, he sees himself as a monster who could end up becoming horribly corrupt if he isn’t stopped.

Musical Edgeworth goes “I DIDN’T KNOW SOMETHING???”

It’s certainly strange characterization, but I guess Edgeworth is further behind in his character arc than in RFTA, so... ugh. Fine.

Phoenix calls Monica out as a witness to prove she was involved in the case. This causes Leona to panic, and try to dismiss Phoenix as her attorney, like Lana in RFTA, but Edgeworth interjects to call Monica in anyways. He and Phoenix have a little moment.

Edgeworth: You said to believe in others. I suppose I’ll try believing in you. Try to keep up.

Phoenix: Edgeworth!

So Monica comes to the stand to testify. We get to see this picture of Monica being held hostage, and not-Joe-Darke’s incredible eyeliner.

Lots of it is very similar to the actual RFTA, except instead of the victim being stabbed on the knight with the giant knife, he’s instead stabbed with a regular old knife. Leona still refuses to admit to what really happened, until Edgeworth convinces her to believe in Phoenix.

Edgeworth: Your attorney is a runaway train with a one-track mind. Yet he placed all of his faith in you. Believe in him. You owe him that much.

Leona testifies, and says that when she found the victim, he was stabbed with a scalpel.

Here is where things get weird.

Scalpels Can’t Kill People

So basically earlier in this trial, they talk about how Leona knew that the knife that stabbed the victim was double-edged despite being buried in his chest. The judge questions if this means Leona killed him, but Phoenix is quick to say no, she was searched when she entered the courthouse and couldn’t have concealed a knife.

Yet, Monica was able to bring in her surgical toolkit which contains several sharp knives, scalpels, scissors, etc.

This is the first major contradiction.

Leona continues to say that when she found Monica, and the scalpel stabbed in the victim, she also ran into Governor Miller, who if you haven’t been able to tell yet is the Gant-equivalent of this musical. He offered to help her with the cover-up, etc.

The next bit goes a lot like RFTA. Phoenix accuses Governor Miller, who barges in, says Phoenix has the decisive evidence in his pocket. This is the “butter knife” that Phoenix took from his office when he dug around in confidential documents and stole it for no particular reason. It has Monica’s fingerprints on it! ... And Phoenix’s and Maya’s too probably because they were handling it without gloves, but they don’t mention that part.

Leona cries about how she shouldn’t have trusted Phoenix because he was apparently now blaming Monica, Monica looks terrified, she and Leona have some good sister moments but it’s not as good as it could be if the story was actually about Leona and Monica like how RFTA was about Lana and Ema. But Phoenix has the decisive piece of evidence that can turn this around.

It is this:

Phoenix: Scalpels are made for medical incisions, not stabbings. So how did it stab the victim?

...

... What?

So like. Yes, scalpels are made for medical incisions. Medical incisions often involve cutting through flesh, very easily. As a result, they are sharp. Extremely sharp. As in: their purpose is literally to stab people, very specifically.

Yes, they’re easier to control, so that surgeons don’t regularly stab people how they’re not supposed to be stabbed, but it’s not like, impossible to stab someone in a killing way with a scalpel? Admittedly, I have never tried to kill someone using a scalpel. And I do not have experience using a scalpel for surgeries because I am not a surgeon. But I’m pretty sure, if you take a sharp scalpel, and you stab someone in the chest with it with a reasonable amount of force... they die.

Like, is this a particular kind of scalpel that is not very sharp? Is the problem that the blade doesn’t match up with the initial wound? But even then, we don’t have the original unforged autopsy report or even a picture, so how would Phoenix know what the original wound looked like to say it didn’t match up? And even then why wouldn’t Phoenix say that instead of SCALPELS CAN’T STAB PEOPLE???

This is his decisive contradiction and it makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE TO ME!!!

Well Darn I Guess Scalpels Can’t Kill People

This is such a decisive piece of evidence, that scalpels can’t kill people, coming from the man who thought “caught red-handed” does not involve being caught standing over a corpse with blood on your hands, that it causes Governor Miller to confess.

Unlike Gant, who created the murder with Neil Marshall both to ensure that there was decisive evidence to convict Joe Darke, a serial killer who had not left any decisive evidence behind, and gain control over the prosecutor’s office in order to pull similar stunts to get criminals convicted using false evidence, Governor Miller does not have that as his motive. After all, he’s not a police officer. Instead, he ended up accidentally killing not-Joe-Darke, and then set up the incident in order to get Leona on his side. As her parents were both influential lawyers and very respectable, having her and her parents’ reputation on his side could help him become President of America Where This Takes Place.

So, let’s just take a moment to run over some of the things that made the original Rise From The Ashes great, in my opinion. Just for fun.

1 - The heart of the story between the Skye sisters. Lana closing off to protect Ema, Ema wanting to get through to her sister and get back to the way things used to be. Phoenix, in this story, is more of a bystander to this plotline rather than in the heart of it himself.

2 - Edgeworth’s Character Development. Basically RFTA creates an interesting transition between Turnabout Goodbyes and JFA. It causes Edgeworth to re-evaluate everything he knows about being a prosecutor. So quickly on the heels of Turnabout Goodbyes, it crushes the last bit of hope in him. It compares him to Gant, who also hates criminals, and forces him to wonder if his hatred of crime will one day lead to him being a criminal himself. He’s already convicted one person on forged evidence; how many others could there be?

3 - The Ends Justify The Means. ... wait come back, don’t leave. What I found neat about this case was also Gant’s motive. At one point he was presumably an honest person who hated crime and wanted to stop criminals. But over time in the police force, he became corrupted. He wanted to have all criminals convicted. So what do you do when you don’t have the evidence to convict them? Joe Darke was a serial killer who has killed several people and may have killed more if he’d gone free. The only way to stop and convict him was by using forged evidence. Other criminals could hide evidence to get away with their crimes, so people like Gant would make it up to catch them; but then when do you stop? What happens if there’s no evidence because someone is truly innocent? When does the line between “this person is a criminal and I want to stop them” and “I just want to convict everyone I’m dealing with” become blurred? This is also something he shares with Edgeworth and helps to advance his character.

All three of these things are either lessened or outright ignored in this musical. Leona and Monica’s story takes a backseat to Phoenix and Leona’s Love Story, with Monica only showing up halfway through, and mainly as an excuse as to why Leona is withdrawn. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to blame himself for the forged evidence he used, and doesn’t have a crisis questioning his morality over it. And Governor Miller’s motive is purely power. Unlike Gant, who would have become Chief of Police whether he solved SL-9 or not, Miller needed Leona to win the presidency. And instead of asking her to help him with his campaign like a normal person, he just blackmailed her instead.

... How do you play the games seven times and miss this much?

The Case Finally Ends

god. we’re almost there.

The case ends, Leona is declared not guilty but will still face trial for covering up murders and such. Probably less of a sentence than Lana because she was not involved in ongoing police corruption? Either way she’s dead in three years, so she’s got something a bit more concerning coming up.

She’s led away. Phoenix sings a bit about Leona before being interrupted by Edgeworth... who has something important to tell him.

Edgeworth: You awakened within me those once-cherished emotions I had discarded. I see visions of a distant, nostalgic past.

So basically this is the unnecessary feelings of the musical. Something along the lines of “seeing you again and fighting for my former ideals is making me question many things about myself.”

How does Phoenix respond?

Phoenix: Edgeworth... Try talking normally for a chance.

Sure, we were all thinking it, but that’s a little cold, Phoenix.

Edgeworth tries a smooth recovery.

Edgeworth: I don’t do... idle chit-chat.

This doesn’t accomplish much. So he leaves to allow Leona to visit with Phoenix alone. He’s got to go change for something more important coming up.

Leona and Phoenix decide that they’re going to get back together once Leona is done her sentence! They make a promise that is very funny if you know she’ll be dead in three years.

Phoenix: I’ll be waiting. For you.

There are a lot of hugs here, I’m not screencapping them all. There are also several moments where their faces get very close together and like, their nose brushes the other’s cheek or something, but they never actually kiss. Is it because the actresses weren’t comfortable with it (valid), or they thought kissing would be too much for the musical (sure, whatever), or since both characters are played by women the show staff did not want two women kissing on stage (probably the real answer)? I don’t like watching kisses, but I kept bracing myself for one and then it never happened, so.

Phoenix ends the main part of the musical with one last musical number starring my personal favourite piece:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I like to think that at this point, this is present-day Phoenix, after finishing his reminiscing, still desperately wishing he could bring Leona back from death.

But alas, he cannot. And so, after one last daydream of them dancing together on the beaches of California, singing about their love, the musical ends.

Dance Time!

This starts at exactly the two hour mark, if you’re interested in watching what is, once again, one of the only fun parts of this musical.

Seriously, Edgeworth’s actress kills it here, when I first saw this I went “oh, this is why I saw so many people being gay for her on twitter.”

Edgeworth’s song is an encore of “My Rule”, so it’s lots of fun. Afterwards Phoenix gets another fun piece.

Then we get to the love ballad part, which I can probably overanalyze, I feel like I haven’t done enough ridiculous over-analyzing in this essay in comparison to the other.

Uhhh so the fog represents how Phoenix feels lost in this world without Leona. You can see it in the second screenshot separating the two of them, representing the barrier of death between the two of them. Idk it’s midnight I’m getting worn out from having to think about this musical for so long.

But his mourning over Leona’s death becomes even more apparent in the credits, where Phoenix sings that one line again:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I’m not fixing that screenshot, I think it’s oddly fitting, in a way. That’s me right now.

Then at the very end, he sings this song.

Phoenix: I’ll spend... this eternal life... soaring through... the heavens!

Technically, this refers to his name Phoenix, but let’s dig a little deeper. He spends the rest of his life soaring through the heavens... the heavens that Leona went to after her untimely death, perhaps?

Overall, the musical becomes much more interesting when you just see it as a prequel to the second musical. This musical establishes many core concepts of Phoenix’s character: his refusal to believe in the concept of things changing, for one, and also his extreme dependency on Leona who he was never separated from since they were kids and where he based his entire life around her dreams and ideals. All he can think about is her. And in the end, he promises to wait for her in California.

Yet, to paraphrase Miles Edgeworth, all that is waiting for him is her death. Their dream of opening up a Mom & Pop Law Firm will never come true.

Thanks again for bearing with me even though this wasn’t as funny!

#ace attorney #phoenix wright the truth reborn #idk maybe someone wanted to know what the first musical was like without actually watching it?#my essays #my posts #i'm TIRED i'm going to BED goodNIGHT #this is less funny jokes and more actually criticizing the musical #because so much of this is like. wow. you really thought that was a good idea huh #just skip to the feenie sweater part honestly that's the funniest part of this musical

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poptod · 3 years ago

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The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them. also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

43 notes · View notes

amythedvdhoarder · 4 years ago

Text

Storm in a Teacup

Pairing: Bucky x Divorced Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warnings: Fluff, a monster of an ex-mother-in-law

Summary: You’re on your first date after your divorce. Who should you run into? Your ex-mother-in-law.

A/N: This comes from a request sent in by a lovely nonnie, who wanted a fic based around a divorced reader who runs into her ex-mother-in-law whilst on a date with Bucky. Before that point, Bucky didn’t know about her divorce. Embarrassment ensues and Bucky has to make up his mind about what to do next. I hope I have done your idea justice. Sorry it took me so long.

Thank you to the wonderful @drabblewithfrannybarnes for beta reading for me. Ily hun 😘

It had taken a long time for you to get to this position, to feel comfortable enough to be dating again. But you had been separated from your now ex-husband for two and a half years, your divorce finalised 6 months ago. It was time to try and have some semblance of a life. You felt guilty about not revealing your divorce to Bucky, but when you moved to New York you really wanted a fresh start, so you didn’t tell anyone about your past. Of course, if there came a time when Bucky needed to know then you would tell him, but this was just a coffee.

Bucky and you had begun talking a few months ago. It started when he was dropping off mission reports with small smiles, progressing to hello’s and then to you making him coffee whenever he stopped by during your lunch break, which he always seemed to arrive in time for. He had realised quickly that you weren’t a New York native, so traded your museum recommendations for tv, film and music recommendations. Each time you met you discussed your latest weekend museum trip and he told you his thoughts on the latest thing he had watched or listened to.

It was clear that you two had a connection. Your co-workers had even commented on how well you and the notoriously silent super-soldier seemed to get along. They were surprised that you hadn’t been on a date already. But you had reservations; perhaps it was too soon. Plus, there was no way Bucky would be interested in you. He was just polite and maybe enjoyed having someone who wasn’t a superhero to talk to. It was a shock when he asked you out for coffee the next time you saw him. You were even more shocked that you had agreed without any hesitation.

You were nervous. In fact, nervous was an understatement. Sick to your stomach was a more accurate description. It wasn’t the fact that it was a date with Bucky Barnes, it was the fact it was a date. Your first, first date in nearly 10 years.

Bucky was leaning against a lamppost, outside your apartment waiting for you. When you saw him you felt yourself instantly relax. He gave you his signature lopsided grin that you had come to crave and ambled over to you.

“You look great,” he said as he stood back and admired you.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself for an old man,” you teased. That was the understatement of the century. He looked like a model in his dark wash jeans, dark blue henley layered over a black t-shirt and a leather jacket in his hand.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Theoretically we’re about the same age you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmmm well I don’t know about that, but we better get going otherwise we’ll be out past your bedtime.”

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Bucky winked.

“Maybe elders that don’t act like teenage boys, but you and Sam are like high-school kids.”

Bucky looked confused for a second and then remembered that you had caught him and Sam hiding Steve’s shield under your desk the other week.

Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, you win.”

The coffee shop was only a couple of streets away, on a corner opposite one of your favourite parks. Bucky and you ordered together and found a table near the window.

Both of you were chatting away about an art gallery you had visited the day before when you were suddenly interrupted.

“You,” that was a voice you would recognise anywhere, a voice which still haunted you. One of constant criticism, one that drove a wedge between you and the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

“Hello Eliza,” you said through a forced smile.

Bucky stood and politely offered his hand to Eliza, but she ignored it leaving Bucky to sit down awkwardly.

“What brings you to New York?” you asked curtly.

“Well Leon and I are visiting my sister,” you balked, glancing quickly around the room, checking for any sign of him.

“He’s not here so you can stop looking. My son had a lucky escape by all accounts,” she sent a sneering look towards Bucky and then back to you. “Barely divorced and already moving on. I always suspected you were a whore; this just confirms it.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; she was publicly humiliating you. Calling you out for being a whore, when you had done nothing but be faithful to her son throughout your marriage and in fact whilst going through the long and bitter divorce. It was her son who couldn’t keep it in his pants. Anger took over and just as you were about to respond Bucky stood up and moved in front of you.

“Sorry I don’t know who you are, but you have no right to speak to anyone like that,” his voice low and urgent, his metal hand clenching and unclenching quickly by his side.

Eliza smirked, eyes flicking up and down at the man standing in front of her. “Ah I recognise you off the news, you two make the perfect match. Both damaged goods that no normal person could want.”

You stood up and went to stand by Bucky’s side, gently taking his arm in your hands. “That’s enough Eliza, we aren’t family anymore, you have made it evidently clear you want nothing to do with me. The feeling is very much mutual. We have nothing more to say to each other so goodbye.”

She let out a little exclamation of shock, but she quickly recovered her sharp exterior. Without saying another word, she just turned on her heels and left the coffee shop.

Bucky gently led you back to your seat, ignoring the people staring at both of you. You looked like you were in shock.

“Hey…” his thumb caught the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks, “she’s not worth your tears.”

This seemed to finally snap you out of your daze. You look at Bucky and everything just seemed so overwhelming. He was being too kind. Eliza had been right, you were damaged, Bucky deserved more than you, someone who could at least be honest about themselves.

‘I’m sorry Bucky…” you grabbed your bag and tore yourself away from him, running out the café and onto the busy street.

He didn’t follow you immediately like he wanted to, he knew you needed some space. Bucky didn’t know you well but wanted to, he was going to be there for you if you let him. Besides he had an inkling about where you were.

You were exactly where he thought you would be, sat on a bench in the park, covered by a weeping willow.

“Mind if I sit,” you jumped at the intrusion. Bucky stood in front of you, holding two take-out cups from the coffee shop and what looked like a very chocolatey cookie.

All of you could do was nod, the shame of Eliza’s words and your own dishonesty still coursing through you.

“Here,” Bucky offered you the cup and you numbly accepted. “Do you want to split this?” he held up the bag and you rolled your eyes at him. “I mean, I’m quite happy to eat it all,” he sent you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help the little snort that escaped you. “We’ll split it, would hate for you to have to spend an extra hour in the gym burning off a whole cookie.”

“You’re too kind,” he teased, opening the bag and poking out the cookie for you to snap off half of it.

Both of you sat and ate without uttering a word to one another. You couldn’t believe he was being so nice to you; you certainly didn’t deserve it.

“I can see why you like it here so much,” Bucky commented, breaking the silence.

“Bucky, how did you know I’d be here?” You turned to face him and took a sip of your coffee.

“I’ve seen you here before. But before you think I’ve been stalking you let me explain. I grew up around here, a couple of blocks away actually. I like to come here for a walk sometimes to remember the happier more carefree times. I spotted you one day but you looked so content in your own little world, I didn’t want to interrupt.” His cheeks flushed slightly with his admission.

He cleared his throat and looked at the coffee cup in his hands before continuing. “Then I started coming here more regularly, hoping I would see you, but I never plucked up the courage to come and talk to you.”

“I’m sorry Bucky” you said quietly.

“That’s the second time you’ve apologised to me today and I still don’t know what you’ve got to be sorry about. It’s not your fault that woman was way out of line. You don’t owe me an apology for anything,” His brows knitted together with concern and it made you feel even more guilty.

“I should’ve told you about the divorce,” smiling ruefully, placing your empty coffee cup between you on the bench.

“I already knew,” he shrugged.

“What? How? I hadn’t told anyone at work,” you spluttered in shock.

“That’s how,” he nodded to where your thumb and forefinger were twisting around where your wedding ring used to be.

You let go immediately and shook your head. “Why did you ask me out for coffee if you knew about my divorce?”

It was perplexing to you that anyone would want to come anywhere near you after your divorce. You had just assumed you would be alone forever. No one had two people out there meant for them. Well, maybe Leon hadn’t been your one.

“We can’t help our past,” Bucky flexed his metal hand, “I know that better than most. All we can do is make the most of our future. I like you, have since I met you. In fact, Sam got so fed up of me talking about you, that he threatened to ask you out himself if I didn’t hurry up and get on with it. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s just thought you could do so much better that an ex-brainwashed assassin.”

“You’re a good man Bucky, anyone would be lucky to have you” you whispered.

Bucky leant over and wiped away the tears you hadn’t realised had begun to roll down your cheeks. “I don’t just want anyone though,” His deep blue eyes peered into yours trying to get across his meaning.

“I like you too Bucky, but we’ve got to take this slow.” His face lit up at your words and he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

“I’m over 100 years old, slow suits me. But seeing as our first date was hijacked would you like to get some dinner with me? I know a diner around the corner has the best burger in the city.”

“Sounds perfect, but only if you let me get it this time. I owe you for the coffee and the cookie.” You offered.

“I think I just about agree to terms of that deal,” Bucky laughed, scooped up the rubbish and got to his feet. “Shall we?” he asked, offering you his free hand.

You put your hand in his and got to your feet. “Let’s go.”

Gif not mine, credit to the creator

Divider made by the talented @firefly-graphics

Taglists are open. Let me know if you want in or out

Everything:

@stargazingfangirl18 , @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555, @rebekahdawkins, @chrissquares, @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes, @cas25214, @pandaxnienke, @thehumanistsdiary, @saiyanprincessswanie, @ladyacrasia, @sweeterthanthis, @joannie95, @lennon-knox, @navybrat817

Bucky:

@its-izzys, @archy3001

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #fluff #request fic

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pandoras-princess · 4 years ago

Text

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader) 18+

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovely peopless! 🌸 I have had the worst writer’s block and honestly it felt like this part was going to go on forever. But we’re here and we’re over it 🤗 I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out despite everything so I shall keep it short and sweet but I will say please please read part one before you read this if you haven’t already, this part won’t make sense otherwise but that’s it for the nagging I swear 😚 sooo without further adieu I give you part two 😁😁 Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is always welcome 😌

Summary: It’s been half a year and you’ve settled quite nicely into your job at the Garrison, as well as all the perks that come with it. Your relationship with Tommy takes an unexpected turn, igniting a fire within John he hadn’t known was simmering...

Pairing: (OOC) Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, explicit mentions of sex, smoking

PART ONE PART THREE PART FOUR

━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━

It’s been 6 months since your first shift at the Garrison, and running the bar isn’t the only thing you've settled into.

After spending the night together in his office, you and Tommy came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You provide him with some much needed stress release, in return he provides you with the love and adoration you so desperately crave, even if only for the brief moments spent in your bed.

As the intimate meetings became more and more frequent, there was still no doubt in your mind that you were little more than a functional lay to the man.

Truthfully, you were anything but functional because with every encounter Tom could feel his heart falling for you.

At first, it was how you'd light a cigarette for him right after sex, plucking the stick from your lips to tuck it between his before you lit your own; it was the way your wild curls would encompass your face like a halo at even the smallest tilt of your head; it was the way you could handle any rowdy punter at the bar with a few choice words and a look that could put even the hardest man in his place. And now? Now, it was absolutely everything about you. Tom found his head clouded with thoughts of you constantly, the only relief taken from being in your presence.

What started out as a bit of harmless fun, had now become a nightly occurence.

Tonight being no exception, you skillfully roll over him, careful not to place any unwanted weight on delicate body parts. Tom pulls on his cigarette, inhaling the harsh smoke as he admires the after-sex glow radiating off your naked form. The only marrs on your skin were the hickeys he made in an eager bid to claim you as his own.

You set about gathering your clothes, unaware of the adoration swimming in the blue irises behind.

“What're you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to leave” you chime, now all too accustomed to the usual routine of sex and a quick smoke before walking home or sneaking Tom out.

Returning to the bed in hopes of retrieving your underwear, Tommy’s large hand wraps around your thigh holding you in place, and any thoughts of the discarded fabric are dashed.

“Stay.”

It was not a question but a statement, the silent pleading in his eyes a far too familiar feeling of your own.

“Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember you sayi-”

“I know what I said, that's not what I want anymore” he interrupts, perfectly aware of the words about to be repeated back to him.

Straddling his waist, his hands come to rest on your hips, thumbs drawing invisible circles on the soft skin beneath as your hands trail mindlessly along his toned chest, goosebumps appearing in their wake.

“What do you want then?” The question comes out breathily, and your heart pounds against your ribcage at such an intensity you were sure it was audible.

“I wan’t you, Y/N.”

There it was. The words you’d been waiting to hear for what felt like an eternity.

You ignore the niggling voice in the back of your mind; the voice reminding you that this decleration of- of- whatever it is, was coming from the mouth of the wrong Shelby brother.

“Is that so, Mr Shelby?”

Tommy is cast back to the very first time you’d given yourself to him - bent over his desk and shamelessly moaning his name as he pounded you with such force he worried the aged wood might just give out from under you - and he remembers just why he’d had this change of heart in the first place.

You were perfect. Plain and simple.

Of course you had your quirks, everyone did. But try as he might he couldn’t find a single one that put him off. The more time spent together the more he was convinced God had crafted you entirely for his sake.

“Yes Y/N that is so.” Tommy’s fingers connect with your waist and your angelic giggles fill the air, the smile tracing his lips deepening.

Flipping over so that his body is snug between your legs, he continues his relentless tickle attack, relishing the feel of your body squirming underneath him as you desperately try to get away.

“To-tommy sto-stop tickling me!”

Your dainty hands barely manage to prise one hand from your waist before the other reconnects, rendering your muscles useless as you collapse into laughter.

“O-okay you win! I’m yo-yours, all yours!”

“Ah the magic words.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Tommy’s beautiful face beaming down at you, having obviously accomplished his mission. Draping your slender arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss and his hands roam your body, tracing along each and every curve before settling for burying in your curls.

For the first time in six months, you and Tommy made love. Well, the first and second time, to be exact.

Hours later and Tommy is peeling his body off of yours, lungs begging for oxygen as the fragments of your mind recollect themselves - the ecstasy of your orgasms positively mind blowing.

“Tommy?”

“Mm?”

“Do you mind if we, um, maybe wait before telling everyone. I just don’t fancy them sticking their oar in, m’ really quite content just us” you muse, shifting into place beside him. Your touch dances along his collarbones, exploring every groove and crevice on its travels to his jawline.

Eyes closed, a lop-sided grin gracing those oh so plump lips. Silky brown waves marvellously tousled from hours of your fingers raking through them.

The man truly was a work of art.

Tommy hums softly in response, one lid opening to peer down at you before capturing your hand in his, lightly pecking each of your fingers along the way.

“Anything for you, Princess.”

With the ghost of his soft lips lingering, your focus shifts to the rhythmic beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the ever so slight twitch of his fingers. And so, wrapped securely in the arms of tender loving care, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning your small figure is weaving throughout the back streets of Small Heath, now an expert on the roads less traveled by Peaky Blinders and Co.

With blood pounding in your ear drums and your heart thuddering in your chest, you sneak through the creaky door making a beeline for the stairs.

“Where’ve you been?”

You reluctantly enter the kitchen, finding Polly at the breakfast table with a cup of tea to her left, an ashtray to her right and a heap of papers inbetween.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“No where.”

“That hickey on your neck says otherwise” she smirks, finally raising her head to look at you.

Your hand pointlessly rushes to cover the purple bruise darkening by the minute on your jugular. “Shit!”

“So how is Tommy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said how is Tommy?” Polly repeats the question, panic creeping up your throat like bile.

“You mean... you know?”

“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own nephew sneaking in and out of this house every night. Give me some credit” she quips. “Don’t worry your little secret is safe with me.”

The parilysing fear immediately dissolves and you plunk yourself down at the table, a dreamy sigh leaving your mouth as you lay your head to rest in your palms.

“Oh Pol, it’s wonderful! He’s so- so-”

“Please, spare me the details.”

“-so perfect!”

“Y/N, he’s Tommy Shelby - perfect isn’t a word within that man’s description.”

“Well it is in mine” you mumble.

“Anyway since you’re here you can help me. We’re having a gathering tonight and I want everyone here so I need you to go and tell them. In the lounge, 6pm sharp.”

“Fine” you huff, rising from the table.

“Oh and Y/N, make sure you cover that thing up before you see John, we don’t need any more murders around here.”

Red hot flames lick at your cheeks and Polly’s lips stretch into a smirk once again, chuckling to herself as she returns to the paperwork before her.

By 6 o’clock all members of the Shelby clan are slowly trickling into the lounge. Tommy and yourself are the first to arrive and he immediately chooses the right corner seat, guiding your body into the empty space beside him.

“Alright Pol” Tom greets his aunt not bothering to make eye contact as he notices a stray curl fall into your eyes, gently tucking it back in it’s rightful place before leaving a quick kiss on your temple.

Polly’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she hands you both a whiskey.

“You’ll want to be a bit more discreet than that when the others turn up.”

“Yes thank you Pol” Tom replies sarcastically as you direct your attention to ridding your jumper of non-existent fluff.

“Alright Polly.”

Your head snaps to the source of the gruff voice, butterflies fluttering against the confines of your ribcage as you lock eyes with John.

“Ye alright love” he plants a kiss on the top of your head before collapsing into the free corner of the sofa.

John was a man of few words, those that didn’t know him might even say simple. But when it came to you, the unspoken language of Jonathon Shelby was one of the few you could speak, thus giving rise to the overly affectionate nature of your relationship.

If this was a few years ago - before Esme, before Tommy, before that tart in the back alley, when everything was right with the world - you’d be tucked up next to John, curled into his side with a strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His fingers would absentmindedly trail along your skin, a private joke or snarky comment whispered into your ear every now and then. And when he laughed, oh god when he laughed, each muscle would flex around you drawing you in closer, forcing every fibre of your being to fight the urge to kiss him.

But this was not a few years ago and things had changed, the harsh truth slapping you in the face like a wet fish as you catch sight of Esme trawling into the lounge; each butterfly erupting into a tiny globe of fire as she settles herself between you and John.

How beautifully ironic you thought, shifting yourself closer to Tommy.

Eventually Ada and Arthur arrive and the night rolls on. The whiskey burns through your veins, blending with your blood on its way straight to your head. With a fair amount of Dutch courage under your belt your body was craving the intimacy it was used to on a night like this. So taking your chances you snuggle into Tommy, allowing yourself to relax when you feel his arm instinctively snaking around you.

The action - which could easily be passed off as a caring moment between two friends - hadn’t gone unnoticed, and every muscle under John’s control seized up at the sight.

More stories poured out, along with many more drinks - you’d half a mind to suspect Polly was purposely fueling you with alcohol - and the more brazen you become, your legs now laying over Tommy’s with his left hand resting comfortably on your thighs.

You gently tap on the waistband of his suit trousers, and hope that Tommy understands your silent request. The movement was much too slight to draw any attention and he brings his left hand to scratch an itch that wasn’t there, before casually placing it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze when he’s sure nobody has noticed.

He forgot, however, that Ada was positioned with a clear viewpoint of the loving act, sitting smugly on the arm next to him as she put two and two together. She thought the pair of you had been awfully happy lately, much too happy for it to be coincidental.

As everyone focused their attention on Polly and her latest crazy tale, John’s jaw clenched and unclenched for the hundredth time, the muscle aching under the constant tension. He sat on the other side of the sofa, soundlessly raging as he thought over the countless nights you’d been draped over him like that, whispering and giggling, eyes glistening with mischief as he shared another secret joke with you. Now here you were, draped over his brother, whispering and giggling as your eyes glistened with what he hoped was the large amount of whiskey you’d ingested, and not the same mischief you once shared with him.

Esme attempted to replicate your position, and she was met with John’s hand roughly pushing her aside. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He wasn’t even sure why he couldn’t take it - it’s not as if you’d ever be stupid enough to fall for his brother’s plan.

“Tommy stop!” you giggle, brushing his hand from your curls as he pretends to mess them up.

That was enough. “C’mon Es we’re going.”

Your laughter dies down as you look up at John, his blue orbs cold and hard as they stare back at you.

For once, you couldn’t place the unvoiced emotion set on his face. For once, you couldn’t read the man you once considered your best friend.

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petite-ely · 4 years ago

Text

Afraid // JJ Maybank

Six - Too much to risk

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: Mention gun, being shot at, swearing, slight mention of death, maybe some mistakes oopsie, tell me if I missed something

Description: A small improvised visits by Petekin leads to a hectic afternoon in the marsh.

A/n : Hellooo guys, gals and pals, this is quite a long part. I really wanted to finish the first episode. also I really don’t know how to had a little read mor thing I don’t know how. Sorry! hope you like it!

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

gif by @robinsbuckly

Song recommendation

It was now far later in the morning, meaning the sun had fully risen and it was a much more reasonable hour to be up at. JJ had left a while ago and John B was still peacefully sleeping (and loudly snoring). Y/n hadn’t been able to go to sleep after her talk with the blond boy and she was now sitting on the couch reading her book (actually reading this time). So, when she heard the front door open, she didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was one of her friends. Who else would just come in like that anyway?

"Hey, there’s coffee made in the kitchen if you want any,” she said, still not pulling her gaze of off her book.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ve already had two cups this morning, I don’t think it would be reasonable for me to have more.” Y/n’s book fell to the ground.

“Sheriff Peterkin, I’m so sorry. I-I thought you were someone else-” she got up from her seat, “-do you, do you need anything, water or uh-”

“You don’t have to bother sweetheart, I’m not planning on staying that long. I just want to talk for a bit,” answered the adult.

“Okay,” she took a pause to swallow. “I’ll go get John B.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll go get him myself.” Y/n nodded, watching as she disappeared into the hallway leading to her brother’s room.

She started pacing around the living room, ferociously biting the nails on her left hand. It wasn’t every day a cop showed up in your house. She had absolutely no idea why Peterkin would want to talk. Actually, she had about 25 different ideas, starting with the fact her uncle hadn’t been on the island for about 3 months. And the party last night, what if she knew about the gun? Would JJ be in trouble? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, that she was certain of it.

The conversation went on for much longer than expected. Basically, Peterkin knew about their uncle being awol and she offered to help get dcs off of their back for a while if they helped her in return. She had also mentioned that it wouldn’t be good if they had seen a shipwreck, which of course they denied despite that being actually true. Y/n didn’t fully understand what Peterkin meant. But she knew that it meant there was something valuable in that boat. And Jonh B knew it too. Yet, he was afraid, which was understandable, considering everything. They were pretty much guaranteed to be put in foster care if they got caught. Not good at all.

“You know what? I'm calling it off,” announced John B.

Y/n raised her head from her sketchbook, dropping her pencil on the low table in front of her to listen to what her brother had to say. She had been drawing silently while the other pogues, all sitting in different ridiculous positions across the backyard, talked and did their own things. She was only half listening to what they were saying, sketching messily the outline of the château. It wasn't very good, but it was calming to do. When she heard the seriousness in her brother’s tone, she closed her sketchbook, otherwise she’d be too distracted.

“Peterkin told us that if we stayed out of the marsh, she’d help with dcs.” The girl grimaced remembering the woman’s words.

“And you believed her?” “Yes, JJ I believed her.”

“You really think that she’d help us?” asked y/n. “It’s been more than 6 months, bird. If she really wanted to help, she would have helped earlier, no?”

“Yeah, she’s a cop, an actual cop. And you think she’s telling the truth?” added JJ.

“Look,” John B glanced at y/n. “All we gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days and she’ll help us.”

“I know, I was there.” Kiara snickered softly at her friend’s words. “But I don’t know, I feel like we’re getting tricked or something. What if she’s like trying to lure us out of there-” she gestured to the water behind them, “-because there’s something she doesn’t want us to see, uh? What if it’s about dad?”

J.B rubbed the back of his neck before turning his body slightly to face the ocean. “Look,” he addressed his sister. “I get that you’re curious and you want to know what’s down there, but I'm only trying to do what’s best for us. And I think it would be better if we listened to Peterkin. I’m just trying to keep you safe, to protect you, bug.” His voice softened as he finished his sentence.

“And it didn’t help that JJ was shooting a gun last night!” Y/n raised her eyebrows at Pope, her face clearly showing intrigue. She wondered where this conversation would lead, a fight between the two boys most likely. Her gaze shifted to JJ who seemed annoyed at the Routledge boy’s words.

“You know what, I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.” John B laughed. “Topper was gonna drown me?” “Sure looked like it.”

“Boys can you plea-” Y/n tried to stop the small bickers, miserably failing as her brother interrupted her. “Funny.” A loud sigh escaped the girl’s lips and Kiara beside her pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Have you looked in a mirror?” “Tell me some more. Come on.” “They always win don’t they, man?”

“Kooks versus pogues. They always, always win!” You could hear the frustration dripping from his voice. Which was understandable. He had a point, kooks always won, it was time for a change.

“Goddamn!” “Look, it’s okay!” Kie tried to reassure him. “No, it’s not okay!”

“He’s right,” agreed y/n. “They always win, or find a way to avoid the consequences.”

“Exactly, they don’t want us to go down into the marsh, that means there's something valuable down there and you know it.” He said to John B. “I know you do.”

“And I understand why you wouldn’t want to go,” he pointed to Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk. And you,” he turned to Kiara. “I mean you’re already rich as fuck anyway.” Okay, that was an exaggeration.

“Why would you bother.”

“But us, you, me and y/n, we’ve got nothing to lose!” His eyes glowed with something y/n hadn’t seen in him in a long time. Hope. It made her sad to think about how JJ really had nothing in his life besides the pogues. But if he was hopeful, then maybe, maybe...

“We really don’t.” “Yes, we do have something to lose.”

“If something goes wrong and dcs comes in, y/n and I would be brought to the mainland in foster care. That means placed with families who probably only care about the check that comes in every month and her and I getting separated from one another and from you guys.”

Y/n thought about what her brother had just said. He had a point, if things went wrong, they could lose everything. Each other mainly and the pogues. It was the worst-case scenario. But if they didn’t get caught, it would make their life so much better. Was it worth all the risk though? That was the question.

“Do you understand what that means? How horrible it would be?” The girl got up from her seat and went to stand next to her brother. “I do,” she said. “I understand, bird.”

“I know that you’re scared and so am I. It’s a pretty big risk. If we get caught, we’re fucked, but listen to what JJ has to say. I think that it might be worth the risk. And if we do get caught-,” she put her hand on his shoulder and turned him around so that he faced her, “we’ll find a way to find each other again. We’re Routledges, we always find a way to solve our problems, don’t we?” Her hand squeezed his shoulder softly. “We’re gonna be alright, bird.”

A small smile drew itself on John B’s lips. “So, what’s the plan,” he said to JJ.

“You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?” “No,” J. B’s face scrunched in disagreement.

“There’s scuba gear. We borrow that and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon and that’s what’s gonna save you, man,” exclaimed JJ. “You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

Y/n breathed out loudly. She was scared as hell. This was going to be pretty tricky, but she knew something was down there. And if it wasn’t money or something like that, then it was something related to her dad’s disappearance. She could feel it deep into her soul.

>>>

“This is empty, you took empty tanks,” announced Kiara to the group as she furrowed through the bag of oxygen tanks.

Y/n put her head in her hands. Their plan had seemed so perfect and now they didn’t have the one thing they needed for it to work.

“Okay this one’s a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us.” “Love it when a plan comes together.”

“Does anybody know how to dive?” asked the brunette but only to be answered by a chorus of shrugs and denying nods. “Anybody?”

“It’s kind of a kook sport,” JJ looked at her.

“I, … I read about it,” tried Pope.

“Great, Pope read about it, now someone’s gonna die,” exclaimed Kie dramatically.

“Look.” JJ’s gaze circled the group of friends. “You put the thing in your mouth and you breathe. How hard can it be?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” confessed y/n.

“Yeah,” agreed Pope. “If you come up too fast, Nitrogen gets in your blood and you get the bends.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She remembered a book she had read a while ago where one of the characters had the decompression sickness (and how tragic their death was).

“Bends like bend over?” JJ joked as he bent his body in a way to stick his butt up in the air. Typical JJ joke, weird and somehow always a bit sexual. Y/n slapped his arm as a way to tell him off.

“JJ, the bends is deadly,” she had a stern expression, “it kills you.” “Oh, right.”

“I can- I can dive,” announced J.B. “Yeah, you can dive I’m cool with that.” “Since when can you dive?”

“No, you can’t dive,” scoffed his sister. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.” “What? The hell?”

“Let’s do some calculations real quick.” Pope pulled out a pen and started writing some numbers. Y/n got up from her seat and went to stand beside him. “So, that boat’s about 30 feet down.” “okay.” “So, it’ll take about 25 minutes at most at that depth.” “Twenty-five.” “Which means you need to make your safety stop at about... 10 feet. Alright? For two minutes.” “Ten feet, two minutes got it.”

They all watched as Kiara jumped straight into the water, her shirt already removed. “Uh, what was that all about?” “I don’t know, but I liked it, a lot.” y/n nudged her brother on the shoulder to get him to stop staring. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, so.” “All righty.”

She sat down on the edge of the boat, waiting for her friend to resurface from underwater. “Yeah. Uh, when you- when you’re down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and you twist and pull, okay,” explained JJ. “Stick it in, twist and pull.”

“You okay?” asked y/n, while the boys kept on rambling. “Needed a swim?” Kiara rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face.

“Hey!” she called to guys, John b more specifically. “I tied my t-shirt to the anchor about ten feet down. It’s where you need to do your safety stop.”

The Routledge girl admired her friend in the water. Her body moving gracefully as she swam back towards the boat. She seemed so, at ease. It used to be that way for her too, but now, even looking into the darkest part of the water gave her a feeling of vertigo. She wondered if she could still swim as good as she used to. It had been almost a year since the last time she had dove right into the marsh. It felt so far away. If only she was braver.

She hadn’t realised she had completely zoned out until she heard JJ speak. “Zen. Think Zen, you know.” She joined the group on the other side of the hms, her brother already suited for his dive.

“Hey, if we get caught out here in the marsh we’re basically screwed, so,” reminded Pope, “better get a move on.” “Copy that.”

Kiara got up and planted a small kiss on J. B’s cheek. Y/n looked at the two boys next to her with a confused expression. They both shrugged in answer, clearly just as confused as she was. “Diver down?” “Diver down.” She watched as his figure disappeared slowly into the water.

“All right.” “See ya, dude.”

She went to sit next to Kie. “I only love him as a brother,” she mocked her friend. “Yeah right, my ass.”

“It’s just a small kiss y/n/n, it doesn’t mean anything. I still mean what I said yesterday. It’s just that,” she took a pause, her eyes squinting at the sun, “I’m just worried for him, you know he’s going through a lot and then there’s the shipwreck and all.”

“Uh huh, I totally get what you mean,” ironized y/n. “Shut up,” Kie nudged her with her elbow. “No, but seriously-” started the girl before being interrupted by the sound of a police siren behind her.

“Shit, guys.” “Guys, that’s the police.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, that is not good. Not good at all.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Yep that’s the police.” “Just act fricking normal.”

Anxiety bubbled at the pit of y/n’s stomach. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize her, otherwise she was dead. So dead. She sat down beside Kiara in a somewhat natural position, her legs crossed to keep them from bouncing.

The police boat parked itself beside the hms. Officer Shoupe behind the wheel. “Evenin’ officers,” greeted Pope. “Evening.”

“How you kids doin’ ,” asked Shoupe. “You know the marsh is closed.”

“No.” “No.” “No, wow.” “I didn’t know that.” They all feigned ignorance, hoping to fool the two adults. “Why- why is it closed?” questioned Pope, adjusting his cap nervously.

“Well, we’re conducting a search out here,” informed the man. “Boat went down.” “Oh.” “Oh, no.”

“Seen’ anything?” asked the deputy.

“No.” “No, boats. No.” Y/n’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the boat, trying to keep herself from looking at her brother in the water.

“Where’s your friend you always hang with?” The pace of the rhythm fastened. “He here?” She opened her mouth, trying to think of a good excuse for the missing presence of her brother, but nothing came out.

“He’s working,” lied Kie. All of their heads nodded softly.

“I’m gonna check your little boat out,” announced Shoupe before hopping on the hms. “Yeah.” “Yeah, hop aboard.” The rhythm stopped, y/n’s nails digging into her palms.

He picked up a safety jacket. “You got another one of these?” “Yeah, yeah.”

“Of course, it’s uh, it’s in the hold,” JJ pointed to where the girls were seated. They both got up quickly. “Show him,” instructed Kie. Y/n’s joints were turning white.

“Okay.” JJ opened the hold and pulled out one of the jackets. “Yeah, here we go.” “All right.” The latch closed loudly. Shoupe’s gaze inspected the teens suspiciously. The tension could be cut with a knife.

He climbed on the flat part of the boat. “Be careful.” “Be careful out there, you don’t want to slip.”

He put his sunglasses on, staring at the exact place where John B and the ship were. The pogues exchanged worried glances. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see anything. He stood on the very edge of the boat, his figure towering over the water of the marsh.

“All right,” he finally turned around. Y/n breathed again. “All right.” “All right.”

“Beautiful day, innit?” “Sure is.”

“You let us know if you see anything on your way out,” he ordered as he started the engine. “Will do, will do.”

“We’ll be gone soon, sir.” “Yes, you will,” finally said the man before he vogued away.

Once he was far enough, the group hurried to the side of the boat, all worried about their friend. He’d been under for quite a long time now, there was no way he had any air left.

“He’s definitely out of air,” declared Pope.

At that exact moment, John B surged out of the water. Y/n felt relief take over her body. She felt her whole body unclench and let go of the grip her nails had in her hand.

“There he is!” Exclaimed JJ. “Oh god, Jesus Christ.”

“God damn it, Bird. I’m so glad you’re okay,” spoke y/n.

“Don’t scare us like that!” All of the pogues exclaimed, all so happy that their friend was all right.

“How’d it go down there?” wondered JJ. “Uh,” John b groaned and his sister hurried to the side of the boat to help him get in.

“Did you find anything?”

“Did I find anything?” He repeated throwing a large duffel bag onto the boat.

“Yeah there we go, that’s my boy!” JJ exclaimed excitedly.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked as he coughed rather loudly. “Yeah, I’m good, but I ran out of air.” Her eyebrows scrunched together on her forehead. God, they were so lucky, what if J.B had ran out of air earlier? Or what if Shoupe had figured out what they were doing? Things could have gotten so bad.

But they didn’t, the girl reminded herself.

“You scared the shit out of me,” confessed Kiara, though it sounded more like a reproach.

“Yeah, same for me,” replied y/n. “Need a hand?” she stuck her hand out at him which he gladly took. The contact of the water with the cuts her nails had made in her hands burned, but she clenched her jaw and ignored the pain. She didn’t want to bother anyone.

“Yeah, the cops were up here but uh, took care of ‘em,” informed Pope.

“My bad.” “You’re all good.” “Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother.”

“Hey guys?” Kiara’s voice was tinted with worry. “Guys, bogey, two o-clock.”

“What?” They all turned in the direction she was referring to. In the distance they noticed a strange looking boat heading towards them.

“Do you recognize that boat?”

“I’ve never seen it.” Kie put her hand above her eyes to hide herself from the sun. “What are they doing back here? The marsh is closed.”

“Honestly, they could ask us the same thing,” pointed y/n.

“Well, I think it would be better if we didn’t stick around and find out,” said JJ.

“JJ, get the bowline.” “Yeah.”

“Should we wait on ‘em?” asked Pope.

“Uh, I don’t think that would be a great idea,” responded y/n. The boat was coming in very fast and the people driving it looked angry and dangerous. It was much safer to just leave. “Go get the stern, go!” Hurried John B.

The blonde pulled the rope as fast as he possibly could. “Guys, don’t wait for me. Go,” he said. Y/n inspected the unknown boat in the distance, nothing about it seemed familiar. Who could these people be? And what did they want from them? “Let’s go.”

She kept her eyes glued to it as the motor started. “I have a really bad feeling about this,” she confessed, turning her head to John B. behind the wheel. “Yeah, I don’t like this either,” agreed Pope.

“Are they coming for us?” asked JJ. “Sure looks like it.”

“Maybe they’re fishing?” proposed Pope. Y/n’s gaze paused on the two men. They were intimidating, to say the least. And their eyes, both had looks filled with something threatening. It wasn’t anger or hatred, no, it was the eyes of people who would do anything to get what they wanted and that was scary.

“Go, go, go, go!” “Go into the marsh.” “Let’s go!”

“I’m going. Act natural,” stated John B as he directed the hms towards the nearest channel.

The white boat sped up, the motor roaring loudly. “Hey guys, they’re following us,” announced y/n. “Oh, this can’t be good.” “Shit”

“Dude, you gotta go faster!” “I’m going!” “Gun it!”

The sound of a gun shooting in the air echoed in the silence of the marsh. The pogues all went down instinctively. “Holy shit, guys!” “Oh my fucking god, what the fuck!”

JJ grabbed the back of y/n’s shirt with his hand, bringing her closer to him. “John b get down!” almost hissed the girl. Another shot fired, y/n clung onto JJ.

“Oh my god, we’re gonna die!” yelled Pope. A third shot fired. Y/n’s eyes caught the net at the back of the boat and an idea sparked in her head. She looked at Kiara, who clearly had thought of the same thing.

“Pope, move,” ordered the brunette as her friend stood to go grab the green net. Another shot flew into the air beside her, the bullet barely missing her.

“Get down, y/n!” shouted her brother desperately. She headed towards the back of the boat and threw the net into the water. It slid down the current and got caught right into the motor of the men’s boat, making the engine come to a halt abruptly. It clanged loudly and the two men shouted in anger. A sigh of relief left the girl’s lips. Her plan had worked.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” hurried Pope. A last gunshot was heard but the hms was too far away to be reached.

“Oh my god!” “Whew!” The pogues all cheered and laughed at their small victory. They were all so glad to be away from these men and all in one piece. Kiara pulled y/n into a hug.

“Y/n, don’t you ever do something like that again. You fucking scared the crap out of me,” said John B as they approached the dock of the château. “I can’t promise anything. Who knows when someone else will shoot at us?”

They all hurried themselves onto the dock, excited to know the content of the bag. “What do you guys think it is?” “Maybe it’s like jewelry? Would be a weird place to keep it but who knows?” “Gotta be money, right?”

“That or a couple of keys with street value to the low- to mid-mils!” JJ’s eyes glistened with excitement. Y/n smiled softly.

“Can we please just open the bag?” burst Pope. The group all started at him.

“Wow Pope,” y/n giggled. “That was a rare outburst of emotions.”

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag. We almost died over this.”

John B. pulled out a smaller bag which contained a metal canister. Every pair of eyes was fixed onto it as he pried it open and revealed a compass. Y/n kneeled next to her brother not believing what she was seeing. They exchanged a look, neither of them saying anything. They both knew what that object was and what it meant to their father, but what the hell was it doing there?

“Oh, wow. Yup, that’s about right.” Pope was clearly disappointed by their findings. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass.” Y/n raised a trembling hand to the compass, carefully taking it into her own hands to examine it. Was this really what she thought it was? How could it be? It didn’t make any sense.

JJ removed his hat in frustration. “Dude, what? It’s not worth anything.”

A small smile creeped on Jonh b’s face, his eyes still not looking away from the compass. “This was,” he started.

“This was our father’s,” completed y/n.

Taglist:

@kaelyn-lobrutto24 @poguestyle17 @im-a-stranger-thing @lasnaro @thoughtsofthestars @briandaflores19 @lunaposey @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @kitty084 @coloradogirl07 @ponyboys-sunsets @chaoticbisous @p0gue420 @sloaneemily @babygal-babygal

Tell me if you wanna be added or removed!

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sunlight-moonrise · 5 years ago

Text

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius.

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin Sweet Cheeks.

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked.

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

“Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations. We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured. I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings. I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator.

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt. I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #reid smut #mgg

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iamanartichoke · 4 years ago

Note

Fic prompt: If you feel like doing another hurt/comfort with Mobius, I would love a version of that end scene where Loki's freaking out but it actually is our Mobius. So Mobius listens to everything Loki has to say, and then they just kind of...take a breath, I suppose, before whatever they're going to do to fight Kang - perhaps Loki gets some tea, and/or an actual meal, a little sleep maybe (has he eaten since that cake on the train or slept since that brief nap in ep 2??), or whatever comfort-y stuff you want - I just need that sweet fic healing lmao.

@scintillatingshortgirl19 Thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! <3

Summary: Takes place at the end of episode 6, where instead of saying "Who are you?" Mobius knows Loki and they pick up from where they left off in the void. Word Count: 1956 Author’s notes: I'm not feeling super confident with these prompts, so please don't judge me bear with me as I dust off my little writer-brain gears and try to find my footing with these new characters and characterizations.

Completed prompts.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mobius is saying, holding his hands up, but Loki can’t stop talking. The words are spilling from him; he’s tripping over them, and from the look on Mobius’s face Loki knows he’s not making sense, but still, he can’t stop.

“He’s set on war,” Loki babbles. “We need to prepare, Mobius.”

“Hang on.” When Loki pauses to take a breath, Mobius reaches out and places his hands on Loki’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, the way he needs to reach, as Loki towers over him. Yet Loki feels very small, too, and doesn’t protest the contact. “You’re speaking faster than my brain can process words. Breathe, okay? Start at the beginning.”

Loki doesn’t know when the beginning was. It could have been the moment he’d leapt up and grabbed Sylvie’s arm before she could land a fatal blow to their enemy; it could have been all those days (or months, or hours, Loki has no idea; time, for him, has completely ceased to exist) ago that he’d landed in a Midgardian desert and the TVA immediately swarmed upon him.

“You’re not understanding me.” Frustration colors Loki’s tone. “There’s no time to stop; he’s - they’re - coming.”

“You’re right, I’m not understanding you.” Mobius lets go of Loki’s shoulders and rubs the back of his neck. “I want to, but you gotta slow down and fill me in, okay?”

“Maybe we should take him somewhere,” says B-15. Loki had barely noticed her but now he steps back, his gaze flicking from her to Mobius, taking in the confusion on both of their faces.

“You don’t look so good,” B-15 adds, taking in Loki’s appearance. He must be a sight, he realizes; his hair is matted and tangled and he feels grimy, his skin caked with so much dirt and blood from injuries he doesn’t remember getting.

But, what difference does it make? Loki turns back to Mobius, desperate. “Mobius, listen to me. Sylvie and I -”

“Come on.” Mobius cuts him off. He moves in, taking one of Loki’s arms. “You can tell me everything, okay, Loki? I just need you to calm down and to come with me, preferably before you pass out. Hauling around a five hundred pound demigod wasn’t on my to-do list today.”

Loki bites back a sharp retort. He’s vaguely aware of B-15 taking his other arm, and it’s only once Loki’s shoulders slump and he allows himself to be led away from the shelves that the exhaustion hits him. He’s been running high on adrenaline for hours, and now that he’s moving slowly, supported on either side, all of that energy seems to drain from him at once. His knees buckle.

“Careful,” Mobius says. Were it not for him and B-15 holding him up, Loki is certain he would have collapsed. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on placing one foot in front of the other, not caring where they’re going. The archives, the time theater, one place is the same as another.

They move through halls that are bustling with activity, minutemen running and disembodied voices crackling over speakers. They don’t know it’s pointless, no amount of hunters in the field will matter or make a difference.

He thinks he says so, or perhaps he just imagines he does. Neither Mobius nor B-15 acknowledge him, at any rate; they only keep moving and after awhile, they arrive at the dormitories, where Loki has not been since the first day Mobius brought him here as an official TVA employee.

“Why are we here?” Loki asks, confused.

“So you can get a shower and a change of clothes,” Mobius says simply, “and then we can have some coffee and you can tell me what happened after the void.”

Loki sighs, and then nods, resisting the urge to insist that everything else could wait (until when?), because Mobius isn’t understanding the precariousness of the situation, but he knows it won’t do any good.

“Fine,” he says instead, giving up. The sooner he does what Mobius asks, the sooner Mobius will listen.

He’d not realized just how badly he needed that shower and change of clothes until he’s scrubbed the dirt and blood from his skin and allowed the hot water to beat over his sore muscles and rapidly-forming bruises. For lack of anything else to wear, he puts on a clean suit, fastening the cuffs firmly around his wrists and buttoning the collar up to his neck.

He’s sick of this outfit; he never wants to see it again but, without his magic, he has no other choice.

In the dormitory kitchen, Mobius is brewing a pot of coffee. He looks up when Loki walks in, and his mouth quirks in a half smile. “Better,” he says, “but you could still probably use some sleep and a meal.”

“Stop fussing,” Loki snaps, irritated with Mobius’s sudden desire to hover over him like a governess hovering over a petulant child who won’t eat his peas. “I hate coffee, by the way.”

“You’ve never had my coffee,” Mobius retorts, sounding unbothered. “Just sit down, okay? You still look like hell, is my point. When’s the last time anyone fussed over you, anyway?”

Loki makes a scoffing noise as he drops down into a chair at one of the small kitchen tables. “I’m sure my mother did at some point, I don’t remember.” Actually, he remembers very well that it was always his mother who looked after him when he was sick or tired or lonely, until he’d grown too old to allow himself to seek her out for comfort.

But he doesn’t want to think of his mother, who is lost to him and perhaps lost to the real Loki as well, the sacred timeline’s Loki, if enough time has progressed and Malekith has indeed run her through with a sword and left her bleeding out on the palace floor.

Loki shudders as he thinks of it, remembering the sight of his mother’s lifeless body projected onto a screen. He’d been helpless to stop it, utterly powerless, just as ultimately he’d been powerless to stop Sylvie.

His mother, dead. Sylvie, lost to him. The timeline destroyed - the end of everything. The weight of it all crashes over him; had he not already been sitting, the sheer despair of it would have brought him to his knees.

Loki drops his head into his hands instead, thinking back to Mobius’s words that first day: you were born to cause pain and suffering and death.

In retrospect, Loki knows that Mobius was merely fighting dirty, using whatever words necessary to break Loki down - the ends justify the means, and all that - but he wasn’t goddamn wrong.

How could Loki have ever believed, even for a second, that he could possibly change?

We write our own destinies now, he’d told that creepy little clock hologram, and she’d smirked, seen right through the words because they were rubbish and they both knew it.

Good luck with that.

Loki doesn’t realize he’s crying until Mobius sets down a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He lifts his head and rubs tiredly at his tear-stained cheeks, unable to meet Mobius’s gaze as Mobius sits down across from him with his own mug.

“Here,” Mobius adds, reaching into his inside blazer pocket. He pulls out a slim, red candy stick wrapped in plastic and hands that to Loki as well.

Loki stares at it. “What is this?”

“Something better than grapes or nuts,” Mobius says dryly. “It’s a Twizzler. Popular Earth candy. I’d say don’t tell anyone I’ve stashed a bunch, but …” He trails off and shrugs, glancing around at the kitchen with forced amusement. “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

He pulls out a second Twizzler and unwraps the plastic, then bites into the candy. Loki watches him for a moment, and then imitates him. “Gross,” he says, after he’s taken a bite. It’s a very bland candy, with texture not unlike rubber. “Think I prefer grapes.”

“Well, maybe Twizzlers are an acquired taste,” says Mobius.

Loki finishes the Twizzler anyway, and then takes a sip of coffee. He does usually dislike coffee, but either he’s hungrier than he’d realized or Mobius has a gift, because this cup is actually quite good.

“Okay, now let’s go back to the beginning,” Mobius prompts, after a silence. He drums his fingertips against the table. “What happened? I’m assuming you were able to enchant the murder cloud?”

All of the words that had been spilling from Loki’s lips before, so desperate to be released, now get stuck somewhere in his throat. He wraps his hands around his mug and takes another sip of coffee, wondering idly how long it had been since he’d actually had something warm to drink. Or eat, for that matter. The train on Lamentis, perhaps. A moment ago, a lifetime ago.

“We did,” he finally says. Despite the coffee, a chill breaks out over his skin and he sets the mug down, choosing to fold his arms as if to fold into himself for warmth. “We made it past Alioth and found him - the one who’s responsible for all of this.”

Just like that, the words are no longer stuck. Loki pours out the entire story, starting from when he and Sylvie had crossed the threshold into the citadel and ending with his own tumble back through the tempad’s portal into the TVA.

But he omits the kiss, only mentioning that Sylvie had distracted him to get the upper hand. He’ll never speak of it - either that Sylvie had used his feelings for her in order to betray him, or that he’d fallen for it (of course he’d fallen for it; for a few seconds there, he’d let himself believe - but, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t real, and there are bigger problems now).

“She closed the portal before I could get back through it,” Loki says. He notices that he’s twisting his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He forces himself to stop. “I can only imagine she finished the job after that because, well.” He barks a laugh that sounds, even to his own ears, broken and pathetic. He used to be so good at maintaining a cool, calm facade but it, like so many other things, had been steadily breaking apart, piece by piece. There is very little left to guard the scared little ice runt who trembles at the core.

“Look at the timeline,” he adds; he laughs again and rubs his eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Loki finishes his coffee and Mobius eats two more Twizzlers before another word is spoken.

“So we lost.” Mobius’s voice is hollow. “We lost before we could begin to fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mobius shrugs. He runs a hand over his short, gray hair before letting out a laugh of his own. “He Who Remains,” he repeats, more to himself than to Loki.

Loki allows a beat to pass. “We have to try to fix it, Mobius.” The only way to ease the weight of his guilt, Loki knows, is if he goes back and tries to make it right - or to die trying.

“How are we supposed to do that?” It’s Mobius’s turn to rub his eyes. His shoulders slump and for a moment, he looks very tired. Older. Loki studies him and wonders, fleetingly, if the real Mobius is someone’s father. “I don’t even know where to begin, Loki.”

“I might.” Loki straightens. Deep down, beneath the anguish, a seed of determination has taken hold and he focuses on that; a lifeline. “But you’ll need to trust me.”

#charlotte writes #follower celebration prompt series #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki tv series spoilers #loki series positive #loki + mobius (platonic)#hurt/comfort #validatemepls #i was listening to the titanic soundtrack as i wrote this lmfao

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

Text

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]

#1st draft #prompt list #available prompts 2021

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kpop---scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Night (2)

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected Smut, Angst,

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: I'm sorry!!

As the rain pours down, it soaks you but you have a hard time finding the urge to care. You watch the staircase from in front of your car, waiting for the man you love, the man you hoped loved you enough to come chase after you. You desperately wanted him to tell you that you were enough for him and that he had enough of the business that was taking so much from him.

But he never came.

A part of you must have known he wouldn't give it up, not for you. It wasn't as though you were anything special anyway. You were you, and he was a god, someone who deserved more than just you.

You closed your eyes and for a moment imagined what it would have been like had he chased you. Kai running down the stairs, into the rain to take you in his arms and tell you how much he loved you and needed you, that you were first, that you were enough.

But instead, you got into your car soaked and cried hard while driving to your apartment. Maybe he didn't love you as much as you thought he did. Maybe you truly weren't enough for him.

Day by day, you stared at your phone, reading the last text he had sent you before you left. It was the last time he had typed out the words you wished you could hear from his lips right now, even if you don't deserve them.

"I love you."

You can still hear the faint whispers of him saying the words in your head, but as time goes on the whispers get quieter and quieter, slowly fading away.

Every week something changed, for the better, and you noticed yourself becoming yourself again. You stopped agonizing over the fact that he hadn't texted you, then you stopped caring that he hadn't called you. If he had been the man you thought he was, he would have reached out, maybe tried to explain himself. But he didn't, so maybe he wasn't the man for you.

A month had gone by and you started going to coffee shops with your friends, finally getting out of the house.

Six months had gone by and you were washing your hair and doing your makeup, feeling like yourself again.

A year later, you were thriving. You had a great group of friends, you were putting yourself out there with guys and you had just been promoted at work, which tonight, this wonderful Friday, you were celebrating with your group of friends at a new club in the city.

"I will be there soon." You laugh into the speaker, looking out the window of the cab to see where you were. "Promise, like two minutes away." You tell Moonbyul, pressing the end call button.

The cab driver pulls up to the club and you see Moonbyul, Wheein and Solar waiting outside for you.

"Fucking finally." Moonbyul groans, pulling you in for a hug. The others join in, congratulating you on your promotion.

"Come." Wheein squeals. "I got us the best table." She finishes, pulling you inside the club.

You walk in and it's jam-packed with people. You squeeze her arm as you navigate through the massive amounts of bodies, finally settling at a table with your three best friends.

"First." Solar pauses. "Shots." She smiles as four shots are delivered to your table.

"That was cool." You laugh.

The four of you down your shots.

"Next," Wheein says. "More shots." Another round is placed on your table, one in front of each of you.

The four of you take your shots again.

Half an hour later, you had already done four shots and had two drinks, and to say you were feeling it would be an understatement.

"I'm going.." hiccup. "To the bathroom." You giggle, ungracefully sliding from your chair and stumbling your way to the bathroom. You close your eyes for a split second as you walk past the bar, trying to ease the spinning when you bump into a hard chest.

You open your eyes and look up, immediately thinking your eyes are playing tricks on you. You blink a few times before stumbling back, shaking your head slightly and looking back up at the man.. the man you once loved.

"Kai?" You whispered.

"Ayn.." he says. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah.. um, you too." You say, unsure of really what to say. There were a few things you had planned to say to him had you ever actually run into him but you truly never thought that situation would arise.

"How have you been?" You ask.

Not what you wanted to say.

"Good, good." He smiles that radiant smile that just melts your heart. "I quit the business." He says.

Your heart drops.

"When?" You ask, a little confused.

"About nine months ago." He answers.

You scoff.

"So three months after you let me run out because you were never going to give it up?" You ask. You can feel the anger rising inside of you.

"I.. well, Hwasa helped me realize." He says. Seconds later a gorgeous woman slides her manicured hand over his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her waist.

You look at Kai confused, and heartbroken all over again.

"Hi, I'm Hwasa, Kai's fiancee." She purrs, holding out her hand with a big diamond ring on the right finger.

"Fiancee?" You breathe. "I tried.. for you.. and I wasn't good enough.. but you knew her for three months and she got you to quit and propose? What the fuck was I? Did you even love me?" You yell.

"Ayn.. let's not do this here.." Kai says, looking uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not doing anything... I’m...I can't breathe." You cry, turning around to stumble from the crowded building. You burst through the door, the cool outside air hitting you hard as you gasp for breath.

Kai, the man you loved was now with someone else, someone who seemed worthy of him, not to mention he left.. he left the business behind. The one that you weren't good enough for him to leave. You weren't good enough to fight for apparently.

With your feet dragging, you walk the long-distance home, ignoring the buzzing of your cellphone as you try to keep the tears from falling. You lost.

The next morning you woke up, feeling as though a train had smashed into your life - oh wait, it did. You recall the events of last night and how your heart was shattered for a second time by the same man, in less than a year. You grab your phone, looking at the time, 11:34 am. Before you set your phone down, it buzzes an incoming message. You open your messages and your heart drops as you immediately recognize the phone number.

Kai.

[11:35 am] 17362592474: I'm sorry about that. Can we talk?

It took all you had in you to not call him and scream at him. He's sorry about that, he's sorry? For what exactly? The fact that he didn't come after you, or the fact that he got engaged so quickly after leaving you shattered and a shell of the person you were before.

You threw your phone to the corner of your room. You couldn't deal with this today. So instead of answering him back, you went about your Saturday. You went for a jog but you never did stop thinking about the woman, Hwasa who was so perfect and seemed so perfect for him. They were a gorgeous couple, one of those couples who should be featured in all the magazines. You didn't compare to her, clearly.

That night you stayed in, ignoring the ringing of your phone that still sat in the corner of your room and instead binge-watched the saddest kdramas you could find and cried, while also stuffing your face.

You woke up Sunday feeling terribly bloated, with an even worse headache but none of that compared to how your heart felt. As much as you didn't want to admit it, as much as this would absolutely fuck with all the progress you made in the last you, you still loved him. Seeing him Friday night confirmed that, you would still forgive him if you had the chance.

Now you spent the rest of your Sunday agonizing over a decision you needed to make.

Text him back, or ignore it?

Monday morning you sat at your desk, chewing on your fingernail as you stared at the message on your phone that you had read almost a thousand times over.

Can we talk?

Sure, you wanted to talk, you had a lot of things you wanted to say to him. You grabbed your phone, typing the message before throwing it on your desk and trying to focus on some work.

[10:12 am] You: Sure. Let's talk. 6 pm, my place. I'd rather this not be public. *Address*

[10:14 am] 17362592474: See you then, Ayn.

You roll your eyes at his reply. Boy, was he going to get an ear full.

You paced in front of your door, checking your phone every 3 seconds. Time was moving so slowly as you waited for Kai to show up. You ran lines through your head, planning out exactly what you were going to say to him. You were ready and prepared to go off.

You checked your phone again.

5:59 pm

Knock

Knock.

You stood in front of your door and took a deep breath before opening it. You almost gasped at the sight of him. He looked so good, but seriously, he had the audacity to look that good and show up here? What the fuck.

"Hi, Ayn." He smiles. "Are you going to let me in?" He asks.

"Oh." You say, coming out of your trance. You open the door wider, allowing him to come in before closing the door behind you.

"Nice place." He says, looking around. You lean against the door, your arms crossed as you try to remember the first thing you wanted to say.

"Thanks." You whisper.

That wasn't it.

"Hwasa and I are on a break." He begins. "Look, I'm really sor.." he started to say before you cut him off.

"Don't." You yell, raising your hands to your ears. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry." You spit. "Sorry doesn't make up the fact that you didn’t chase me. Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you met someone 3 months after you let me walk out of your life like I was nothing, and then you got engaged! You really are.." you say before now he cut you off, this time with his lips.

You hadn't even noticed him walking towards you until his lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes are still wide open as you realize what's happening. You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. You're shocked as you gently touch your lips before raising your hand and slapping him.

You look at him, up and down before grabbing his collar and pulling him back to you, latching your lips onto his. He wraps his arms around you pulling you in close. He backs up, pushing you against your door as he hikes up your skirt, his knee pressed in between your legs. You break the kiss and his lips travel to your neck, your hands now in between the two of you, unbuckling his belt. He shimmies his pants down, along with his boxers, his cock springing free.

Kai places his hands behind your legs, picking you up and pressing you against the door once again. He lines up his cock before pushing himself into you with a gasp as his head rests in the crook of your neck. Your hands-on his shoulders as he thrusts himself into you, making you moan loudly.

"Fuck." He grunts, his fingertips digging into the back of your legs as he fucks you. Your hand moves to his hair, running your fingers through his locks as he hits all the right spots, your clit being rubbed perfectly.

You can feel his hot breath on your neck, his lips pressing a kiss as you cry out, loudly.

"Just like that." You moan as your orgasm builds. "Don't stop." You cry, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair.

"Cum for me, please." He begs, you wrap your arms around his neck as your orgasm flows through your body, making you scream.

Kai thrusts faster as he chases his high, spilling himself into you. "Oh god." He moans as he thrusts lightly, coming down from his high.

You're both still for a moment, Kai still inside you as you both breathe heavily. "Shit." He whispers, pulling out. "That was a mistake." He says, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt back up.

"What?" You ask, tears now brimming in your eyes.

"No, that's not what I meant." He tries to assure you. "I meant the timing was a mistake, not you, never you." He says.

"No, I get it. I wasn't good enough for you then, why would I be good enough for you now." You spit. "Get out."

"Ayn.. please. It's not what I meant. I miss you!" He pleads.

"Get out now!" You cry. The tears roll down your cheeks as he looks at you with such despair, to just listen to him. You don't care. You were a mistake.

You storm towards your window, pushing it open as you struggle to catch your breath. How could you be so stupid as to let him fuck you, let him back into your life like that?

This was a mistake

I miss you.

Did he though? Did he miss you?

You let out a loud and frustrated grunt as you swiftly moved around your apartment, rage cleaning. How could you let him come up here and taint your fresh, drama and Kai free space? Bad Ayn.

Heading for your cabinets, you reach for your favourite cleaner, the one that smells like happiness to you and you begin your work. You scrub your door, cleaning away the sweat, the reminder that you let him fuck you against your door. You wash your floors, making sure to clean where he stood extra hard.

When you were finally satisfied with your house and the cleanliness and freshness of your place, you went to take care of yourself, spending an absurd amount of time in the shower. You used different soaps especially on your neck, you washed your hair a few times and your fingers, trying desperately to get the smell of him off of you, trying to get the feeling of being called a mistake off of you.

After your shower, you sat in your robe, in a chair in the living room, your finger hovering over the cold button on your cell phone. You needed to call Jisoo and tell her about this but you were slightly nervous about her reaction. You closed your eyes and pressed the call button and took a few deep breaths as you listened to the sound of the phone ringing.

"Heeelloooooo." She answers in a singing voice.

"I did a thing." You whisper into the phone.

"A thing? Ooh, what kind of thing?" She asks.

"A bad thing." You reply.

"Do tell." She says excitedly.

"I accidentally..slept with Kai." You whisper.

She says nothing.

"I'm sorry. WHAT?" She gasps. "Kai? As in, you just got over Kai? That Kai?"

"That Kai, yes." You whisper.

"Giiiiiirl." She screams. "So you're back together? I always loved the two of you together."

"He has a fiancee." You whisper.

"I'm sorry again, WHAT?" She says. "And you still fucked him?"

"Well, he said they're on a break." You nervously laugh.

"Shit girl. How do you feel?" She asks.

"He said it was a mistake. The timing was a mistake but all I heard was I'm a mistake." You answer.

"What'd you do?"

"Kicked him out." You laugh.

"Yas best friend, you go best friend." She laughs. "But in all seriousness, are you okay?"

"I don't know." You respond. "I still love him, and I know I could forgive him but I don't know if I should. He broke me, and it took a long time to fix that and then he's got this new girl, and shit.. what do I do, Ji?" You sigh.

"This is something you have to figure out for yourself. I can’t be the one to tell you what to do, as much as I would like to, this is you." She responds.

"Thanks, Ji." You say before hanging up the phone. She was right, you had a lot of thinking to do but also, you really need to talk to Kai.

Kai sat on his couch with his head thrown back as he replayed this evening's events through his head, over and over again. He will admit, he shouldn't have kissed you but it couldn't help it. He really had missed you. He stared at your lips as you yelled at him and he thought about kissing you, then bam, he was doing it and he didn't want it to stop, but then you slapped him and kissed him back and everything escalated from there.

He lets out a loud groan as he thinks about his life and where he was now, he felt like he was going insane. Everything was so fucked up, and in all honesty, it was his fault. Had he just gone after you, none of this would have happened. You would be here, laying in his arms, and you both would be happy but instead, you're broken and it's his fault and he's still in love with you.

Kai thinks back to that day, the one when he let you get away and fuck does he ever wish he could have a redo of that day. The amount of shame he felt for what he did was indescribable.

"Either you want it, or you don't. So let me know." You finished before walking away, and Kai stood there. He couldn't move as you closed the door behind you. He was hurt, angry and ashamed. You were so much more important than his business and he wanted to tell you that, but his pride wouldn't let him. He wanted you to be more understanding of his job and realize that it was just that, a job. So he waited.

He waited for you to return, he waited for a text, a phone call, something - anything but it never came. He thought maybe you needed time but as the weeks went by he slowly began to realize that you had left him and it hurt. It had been too long now, he couldn't crawl back so maybe you would. If he was lucky, you would be the one to reach out to him.

One night he had gone to a restaurant - alone. He ordered a glass of wine, and his meal and sat in silence as he watched the happy couples smile and laugh. He wanted that, with you. As he was lost in thought someone tripped beside him, dropping a purse. He knelt down to help and when he looked at the woman, he was shocked, she was breathtaking but nothing compared to you.

Maybe that's what he needed, a distraction, someone to help him get over you. She smiled at him and he smiled back. "Thank you for your help." She says.

"No problem. Are you okay?" He asks, seeing the tears in her eyes.

"Terrible date." She sniffles.

"Would you like to join me…" he pauses.

"Hwasa." She smiles.

"Would you like to join me Hwasa?" He asks.

"I would love to.." she pauses.

"Kai."

"Yes, Kai, I would love to "

A few months later he was looking at the engagement ring he had bought, that was supposed to be for you and Hwasa had caught him, immediately screaming yes and crying. She was so happy. So he slid the ring on her finger and decided to keep it to himself. A few weeks later, he handed the business over to Baekhyun, not because Hwasa had convinced him like she thought but because he worried she would try to take it over.

Kai was a little in over his head with her, especially when he couldn't stop thinking about you but he just couldn't bring himself to end it with Hwasa. He felt guilty, it had been too long now, maybe he was stuck. Maybe this is what he deserved, his karma for not chasing you.

A few days later, you glanced at the clock as you finished your paperwork, it was 9 pm. You let out a big yawn, stretching out your arms. There was a faint knock at your door, so you finished your stretch as you walked over to see who was here so late. You looked through the peephole and saw Kai standing there swaying. Your heart was in your stomach, you most definitely weren't prepared for this.

With a shaky hand, you turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly. "What are you doing here?" You ask, looking both ways down the hallway.

"I fucking miss you," Kai yells. "Please let me in." He begs.

You can hear your neighbours beginning to get annoyed, so you opened the door fully and grabbed Kai by his shirt to drag him in.

"You can't just show up here like this." You say, crossing your arms. "You're engaged." You finish, those last few words felt so bitter coming out of your mouth.

"I'm not… I'm not engaged." Kai says, walking closer to you. He pulls you in, just holding you but your arms are still crossed. "Please.. hold me back." He whispers.

As a tear rolls down your cheek, you uncross your arms holding onto him tightly. The two of you stand there for a moment, you take in his smell, remembering what he used to smell like. It's the same, but whiskey added tonight.

"Come." You whisper, letting go of him, and pulling him towards your shower. You run the hot water as he stands there. "There are towels in here." You say pointing to the cabinet. "I'll have some clothes for you when you're done." You finish, leaving the bathroom to let him do his thing.

He's not in there for very long. A few minutes later you look up to see him standing there with his towel wrapped around his waist with water dripping from his hair. You bite your lip at the sight of him, taking a deep breath and remembering you can't. You can't do that.

"Here." You whisper, handing him some old clothes of his that you never got rid of. You felt a little ashamed to have kept them this long but it was something you could get over. You turn around as he drops his towel, you can hear him sigh as he slides on his clothes

"Done." He says, his voice low and shaky.

"You need to sleep this off." You say, opening your bed covers. Kai crawls in, scooting over for you.

"Please?" He asks, patting the open space beside him.

"I can't." You whisper. "I'll be on the couch." You finish, walking away and turning out the lights as you make your way to the couch.

Kai wakes up startled. He sits up in bed, confused about where he is, he looks over at the clock, it reads 4:49 am and then he remembers. He came to your house, you hugged him back, put him in the shower and tucked him in. You were so good.

Kai crawls out of bed, feeling his way out of your room and making his way to the living room.

He walks in and sees you curled up on the couch, a small piece of your hair covering your face. He smiles at how peaceful and happy you look in your sleep. He misses watching you sleep at night, just looking at you and feeling so unbelievably grateful that you were his. Kai bends down, scooping you up in his arms and bringing you to your bed. He places you down, covering your shivering body as he crawls in beside you, making sure to leave space between you two. He wished he could wrap his arm around you and fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but instead he fell back asleep with his face buried in your pillow and tears rolling down his cheeks.

That morning you wake up, feeling extra warm. You stretch out your back, pushing out your ass and you're met with something hard pushed up against you. Your eyes shoot open as you feel a hand sliding over your stomach, pulling you in closer. You shouldn't be doing this but fuck, you missed him, you missed this and everything that came with it.

A few minutes couldn't hurt. So you snuggled back into him, relishing in the feeling of being held by him again, his strong arms wrapped around you, making you feel like the safest person in the world. Your personality made a bit of a flip and you began scooting your ass back a little more, lightly grinding yourself on his cock.

"Mhmm." He groans, pushing himself against your ass harder. "Goodmorning." He says, his voice husky and quiet.

"Goodmorning." You whisper.

"Can I.. just." He pauses, pushing himself into you further. You weren't sure what came over you, maybe it was the trance that you always seem to be in around him but you opened your legs, giving Kai the invitation to enter.

He lets out a loud groan as he moves to pull his sweats and boxers down, his cock ready as it drips precum. You open your legs a little more, letting him move your panties to the side before he slides himself inside you, stretching out your pussy.

"Fuck." You whimper as he slides in and out of you slowly, making you crave more. He pulls up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts before cupping one, twiddling your nipple between his fingers.

You reach your hand down between your legs, pressing down on your throbbing clit before gently rubbing as Kai continues to thrust inside of you. His face is pressed into your neck, nipping gently as his hot breath flows over you.

"I've missed you." He breathes. "Your scent, your face, your body, your pussy, everything about you." He groans. Kai continues to fuck you, his hand leaving your breast to move up, wrapping around your neck. He lightly squeezes, making you moan loudly as your orgasm builds.

"I missed you." You cry out, rubbing yourself faster, needing your release.

Kai's hand around your neck tightens as you both cum, your body squirming as he fills you up. You both lay there, breathing, taking a moment. He releases your neck but instead of moving away from you, holds you closely for a few minutes.

Kai springs out of bed a few minutes later, pulling on a shirt before finding his shoes. "Shit." He panics.

"What are you doing?" You ask, very confused.

"I have to go to work. I'm already late." He chuckles. "I will text you." He says, kissing you gently on the cheek before running out the door, leaving you standing there with his cum dripping down your leg.

"Rude." You scoff, making your way to shower. Before you get in you text Jisoo, asking her to lunch because now, you have more news.

She texts back immediately confirming and telling you she can't wait.

"Again!?" Jisoo yells, throwing her hands up in the air while you hide behind your hands. "You slept with him, again." She sighs.

"It was a.." you begin.

"I will cut you if you say it was a mistake." Jisoo threatens. "Look, you guys need to chat about what the fuck is happening because you have me confused."

"You're confused? I'm also confused." You sigh, taking a sip of your drink.

"Excuse me." You hear from beside you. You look up and see a very handsome man standing in front of your table. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just thought you were stunning and wanted to give you my number. If you are interested in a date, call me, if not at least I know I gave it a shot." He smiles, placing a napkin in front of you before walking away.

You and Jisoo laugh as you slip the note into your purse. Considering how things were going with Kai, you didn't think you would need it. You finished your lunch with Jisoo and said goodbye before you went on a stroll and headed back to your apartment. You thought about your morning with Kai and smiled like an idiot as you skipped down the sidewalk, feeling like you were on top of the world.

As you neared your apartment, you decided to stop and grab an iced coffee, maybe even a cookie from your favourite shop until suddenly you weren't very thirsty anymore, but instead, your heart sunk as your throat dried up. You looked in the window of the coffee shop and saw Kai sitting there with Hwasa, his hand in hers as they laughed.

You pulled out your phone and dialled his number. You watched as he checked to see who was calling and then put his phone down, ignoring the call.

With your heart hurting, you continued to walk to your apartment. You decided you were done being played by him and reached in your purse, digging for the napkin the stranger had given you earlier. If Kai wanted to play games with you, fuck with your feelings for him, well then you could do the same, and make him hurt more.

The minute you got home you sat at your kitchen table, dialling the number the man had given you.

"Hello?" He answers.

"Hi." You say. "I realized that I never got your name." You smile.

"I'm sorry." He laughs. "I don't usually do that so I was a little nervous. My name is Taemin." He tells you. For some reason his name made you smile widely.

"Nice to meet you, Taemin. My name is Ayn." You say.

"Well Ayn, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" He asks.

"I would love to." You answer, without a second thought. Kai was pushed so far to the back of your mind, you didn't even feel guilty about saying yes to Taemin, Kai could have Hwasa.

"7 pm, Jungsik Seoul. Is it okay if we meet there?" He asks.

"Yes, that sounds perfect. See you tomorrow." You say, hanging up after he says goodbye.

You were truly excited, maybe this means you and Kai weren't meant for each other. Setting your phone on the table, you walk away, trying to decide what you wanted to have for dinner tonight when your phone rang again. You made the mistake of answering it without even looking at who was calling, you were just trying to be happy.

"Hello?" You answer, a little tune in your voice.

"Hi, beautiful." You hear on the other end.

"Kai?" You ask.

"Yes, baby, you and me, tomorrow night. Can we talk please?" He asks.

"No." You spit. "I saw you with Hwasa at the coffee shop this afternoon. You were smiling while holding her hand. So much for a break. I really continue to surprise myself at how many times I'll let you fuck with my heart."

"Ayn." He says but you don't stop.

"I have a date tomorrow night." You say. "He's taking me to Jungsik Seoul. So I'm busy, bye." You finish, hanging up the phone. You toss your phone onto your couch, heading to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you, your mood now completely ruined.

You stood outside the restaurant in your red flowy dress and heels as you waited for Taemin to show up. You checked your phone again and it was only 6:57pm, so it's not like he was late, you were just a naturally early person.

"Hey." You hear from behind you. You turn around and see Taemin walking up to you, in his suit that fit him perfectly, his hair laid out in a perfect way to shape his face, his plump lips spread into a smile.

"Hi." You smile.

"Have you been waiting long?" He asks, pulling the door open for you.

"Just a few minutes." You say, walking into the restaurant. "Not long at all."

"Reservation for Lee Taemin." He tells the man at the front who then takes you to your seats.

As the two of you look over the menu, the conversation is flowing and you can't control your laughter. You were having an amazing time with Taemin, but your heart wasn't fully in it. You took a sip of your wine as Taemin looked past you, slightly confused.

"Hey man." He says, standing up.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hear from behind you. It's Kai.

"I'm on a date man," Taemin says, pointing to you.

"With Ayn." Kai snaps.

"Like.. the Ayn?" Taemin asks, looking between you both.

"Yeah." Kai answers.

"Bro, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Taemin says, putting his hands up to surrender.

"You don't get to do this." You spit, standing up from the table. "You don't get to waltz in here and pull this shit."

"He's a friend, Ayn. He knows about everything and how bad I've wanted you back." Kai tries to explain.

"Oh, I'm sure you wanted me back so bad." You scoff. "That's why you were getting all cozy with Hwasa yesterday right? That was wanting me back, right?" You yell, crying again. "I'm tired of you lying to me about her. Either you're done with her or you're not." You finish in a whisper.

"I am done. Look, Ayn, it's not what you think at all. Please, please let me explain." He begs.

You look around the restaurant at all the people watching you and your drama. "Fine." You whisper, sitting down slowly into your seat.

"Do you mind?" Kai asks Taemin, pointing to his seat.

"Get your girl, man." Taemin smiles, walking out of the restaurant, leaving you both to talk.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom." You sniffle, earning a smile from Kai.

You walk to the bathroom, with the plans of fixing up your makeup, trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable again. But you never had expected to see Hwasa standing in the bathroom, leaning against the wall as if she was waiting for you.

"Awh." She fake pouts. "Poor little Ayn. Are you upset that you're trying to ruin someone else's relationship?" She asks.

You ignore her.

Hwasa laughs. "Do you think you've won because he's sitting out there wanting to talk to you? Sweetie, he walked out on you once, what makes you think he won't do it again?" She smiles. "If I were you, I'd be so insecure because I'm not giving up my man." She spits, walking out of the bathroom.

Fuck your makeup, you storm right out of the bathroom and head for the table you share with Kai. "Are you done with her?" You ask, slamming your hands on the table.

"W-what?" He asks. "Yes, I don't want her."

"Then you should probably let her know because she just told me in the bathroom that she's not giving you up." You tell him.

Kai stands up, looking around the restaurant. "Hwasa." He calls out.

She smiles widely as she walks towards the table. "Hi, baby." She purrs, sliding her arm onto his shoulder.

Kai pushes her off. "Look, I told you yesterday over coffee, I'm done. I don't want you." Kai growls.

"Are you forgetting our little arrangement?" Hwasa scoffs. "I can pull out my money and you'll be ruined." She threatens.

"You'll have your money back tomorrow, first thing. You're not hanging this over my head anymore, Hwasa." Kai spits, pointing to her face. "Get it through your thick skull, it's always been her." He finishes, walking towards you, taking your hand and pulling you from the restaurant, leaving Hwasa standing there, looking like a fool.

It had now been a year of you and Kai being back together and they have been the best year of your life. After that night at the restaurant, you and Kai sat down and had a very long talk about everything, clearing the air, no more secrets. Slowly as the days went on, you began to trust him more and more, which led to you slowly dating again.

After a few months you didn't want to do the slow thing anymore. You wanted him fully. You had no doubts about your relationship, and you didn't want to wait to give yourself fully to him. Kai had your heart in his hands, and you knew he would never do anything to break it again.

"You're lying." Kai whispers, staring at Hwasa with wide eyes. "You can't.. it's not mine." Kai says.

"The Night of the hotel with the papers. That wasn't Ayn you were with. It was me." She tells you.

Kai closes his eyes, flashing back to that night four months ago.

"I miss you." You pout into the phone, making Kai chuckle on the other end.

"I miss you too, baby." He groans. "I'm going to kill Baekhyun for this."

"You can't kill him. He needs his best friend. Make sure you're safe tonight. I have something exciting to tell you when you get home in the morning." You smile, looking over at the positive pregnancy test sitting on the kitchen table.

"Okay baby, they're calling me, so I will see you in the morning. I love you." He sighs.

"I love you more." You whisper before hanging up the phone.

"Sorry about that." Kai says, putting his phone in his pocket.

"No worries." Hwasa answers, sliding papers towards him. "These are the transfer of ownership papers." She says, pouring a glass on whiskey for Kai.

"This is all you called me here for? To give me papers?" He asks.

"Yes." Hwasa answers. "Actually, I do have a question." She says.

Kai takes the glass drinking the shot before Hwasa fills it up again.

"Why Ayn?" She asks. "What is so special about her?"

Kai chuckles as he drinks another shot, and another one. "She was the first one to think of me as more than just a dick." Kai answers. "She saw i was worth more than being just a good fuck."

Hwasa nods her head as she pours Kai another shot, his body beginning to feel warm.

"I think you're more than just your dick." Hwasa whispers, pushing the shit towards him, leaning in closely to Kai.

He takes a breath, smelling the air. It smells like you, he can smell your perfume. "Ayn." He smiles. His world spins slightly as he takes the shot. He looks up and he swears he sees you sitting across from him.

"Lets go to bed." He hears. A woman helps him up, taking him up to a hotel room and laying him in the bed.

"Ayn, my sweet baby. I like your dress." He smiles as he squints his eyes, watching the dress fall to the floor.

"I want you." He hears a whisper, making him groan.

"Oh baby, I want you too." Kai groans, unblocking his belt.

He watches as his cock is pulled out. He closes his eyes as a mouth wraps around his tip, teasing him with a tongue before sucking hard, bobbing up and down as his cock gets sucked.

"Fuck." He huffs, his hands reaching up and grabbing a chunk of hair, holding the head steady as he thrusts himself up, his cock sliding down the throat.

"Ride my cock." He whimpers.

His eyes are still closed as he feels a body climb up the bed, hovering over him before sitting on his cock. "Oh god." He hears moaned from above. He places his hands on hips, helping rock back and forth.

"You always feel so good around my cock." He whines, his fingertips digging into the thighs on top of him.

"Cum." He demands, his teeth clenched together. He listens to the sweet sound of moans from above him, as fingertips dig into his chest.

It doesn't take long for Kai to cum, filling up the warm pussy that surrounds his cock.

"Fuck, I love you." He sighs before falling asleep.

In the morning Kai wakes up startled and confused. He remembers drinking with Hwasa, but he must have drank too much. He looks over and sees Hwasa sleeping in the other bed in the room, both of them still fully clothed. He went home that morning and told you about the wild sex dream he had about you, and you told him you were pregnant.

Kai walks in the door of your shared apartment and sees you standing there, with two tiny baby onesies, one with blue writing and one with pink.

"It's twins babe." You cry. "A boy and a girl!"

Kai walks towards you, dropping to his knees, sobbing with his head down.

"I'm so sorry Ayn, I fucked up." He whispers. "Hwasa's pregnant and it's mine."

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