#kitten's wonder night tea party

[lavendorium]

Another coord from the backlog! 🐈‍⬛

🖤JSK: AatP 🖤headdress: Bodyline 🖤all else: offbrand

[yoon-kooks]

paired & puppy-eyed | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.

⛓️word count: 4.6k

⛓️warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, reader calls herself a sl*t one time, dick tattoo, many rounds of sex off screen😔

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: if you're looking for the ✨filthy✨ smut version, read paired & pierced from the reader's pov! this one takes place in the same 2 days but from jungkook's pov without explicit smut😔 if you read both, lmk which version you preferred! i personally like this one more bc we get more catdad!jjk heh

Jungkook doesn’t always have a goal for the day, but today is different. He’s running on approximately zero hours of sleep and would love to get a nap in before class starts. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.

Unfortunately for him, that won’t be happening today because there are at least ten girls huddled next to his desk when he walks into the classroom. An onlooker might assume that these girls are gathered around for a chance to win his heart over, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, there’s a queen bee sitting a foot away from him, and she’s the one everyone’s always drawn to. 

That queen bee is none other than you.

As Jungkook quietly takes his seat, he overhears something about that Loudmouth Jim who sits on the other side of the classroom. Apparently, you were hanging out with that guy at some party. A girl like you can do so much better than Loudmouth Jim who always needs to make everything about him. He couldn’t accept it when his ex broke up with him, so he turned it around on her to make it seem like he was the one breaking things off with her. Now he’s made it his mission to make her jealous by flirting with popular girls like you. Jungkook swears he only knows this because his tattoo artist loves to spill the tea he hears from his other clients.

“Is he as big as they say?” All the girls look so wide-eyed and eager to hear what you have to say about Loudmouth Jim’s cock. They talk about shit like this all the time, and as much as it makes Jungkook want to bang his head against a brick wall, he’s also lowkey disappointed that they’ve never once wondered about the size of his cock. He wouldn’t mind if that seed were planted in that pretty little head of yours.

As it turns out, you haven’t seen Loudmouth Jim’s cock. Thank god. And from what it sounds like, you didn’t want to see it anyway. Good girl. In fact, when Jungkook takes a peek next door, you don’t even look super engaged in the girl talk. You nod along and smile a bit, but you’re a lot quieter than one would expect for someone so popular. It’s kind of cute.

Eventually, class begins and Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief. Now the girls have to cut the chitchat and leave. At long last, he can finally catch up on some sleep. This wouldn’t be an issue if not for the tiny demon kitten that wandered to his doorstep a week ago. Not only does she keep him awake at night by knocking shit down and chewing on his phone charger, but she also haunts him in his sleep.

He dreams of the little fucker swatting her paws against his back and wiggling her tiny body into his hood. When that isn’t enough to get his attention, she starts gnawing on his index finger.

“Hey Jungkook.”

The boy opens an eye and the first thing he sees is you bent down in front of him as if you were about to do something indecent under his desk. He immediately shakes that thought out of his head, though he still has no fucking clue why you’re down there looking up at him with such needy puppy dog eyes.

“Wanna be partners?” you ask him.

Still half-asleep, he looks around the room and sees everyone pairing up and talking about a project of some sort. Fucking hell. He absolutely despises any and all projects that aren’t individual. Even the ones where a super pretty girl is asking to pair up with him. But before he can decline, he notices you checking over your shoulder and sees Loudmouth Jim on his way over. Ah, it all makes sense now. You’re just using him to avoid being partners with that asshole. It’s a matter of picking the lesser of two evils. Understandable.

“Sure, I guess.” As much as Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, he wouldn’t have had it in him to say no to you anyway. Not with those puppy eyes.

“Good, good.” The smile on your face is too much. Why are you smiling that big for something as small as agreeing to be your partner? It’s really not that deep. But it is really cute. Fuck. See, this is what happens when he doesn’t get enough sleep—his mind develops some sort of irrational softness that won’t go away until he either lets his body rest or rubs one out. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that nasty soft feeling out of his system.

Seeing how the classroom isn’t the best place to have his hand in his pants, he opts to fall back asleep before class ends. Hopefully he won’t be disturbed by any more kitten nightmares.

Ten seconds later, Loudmouth Jim enters the scene, and Jungkook can kiss his nap goodbye. Still slumped over, the sleep-deprived boy listens in on the awkward exchange between you and Loudmouth. Bro apparently can’t take a hint that you want nothing to do with him. Jungkook would step in and tell Jim to fuck off, but he wants to see you do it yourself. That would be kind of hot.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry,” you say in an apologetic tone. You probably get taken advantage of all the time because of that compassion. There’s no need for you to be so nice to everyone you interact with, and especially not to shallow people like Jim. That must be exhausting.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” Loudmouth spits. Kid? Jungkook does his best not to snort while pretending to be dead. When he takes a peek, he sees you nod. “And you said yes?” 

You nod again. This time, however, you don’t give him the gentleness you’re known for. With a furrowed brow, you almost look bothered—something you probably feel all the time but never show. It’s so rare to see your emotions out in the open like that. It’d be quite intriguing to see how you look when you’re genuinely happy, sad, mad, horny—

Nope. Jeon Jungkook is not going to let his sleepy mind wander there on a Friday morning. It can at least wait until he gets home.

After Loudmouth Jim is gone, Jungkook sits up and stares at you. Your face has already softened back up. Fuck it. He’s never seen anyone so cute in his entire life, through sleep-deprived glasses or not.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you.” Kind of a dick move of him to ruffle your feathers when he already knows about your distaste for Jim, but Jungkook is genuinely curious to hear what you have to say. And he’s not one to be curious about other people’s affairs.

“That’s not what he wanted,” you say. They don’t call him Bad Intentions Jim for nothing.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” Perhaps “friends” isn’t the best word to describe the rest of your classmates, but it’s clear that they enjoy being in your presence.

Apparently, you feel a bit more detached than that. According to you, no one’s going out of their way to save you from a hypothetical burning house. Jungkook probably would. But there’s no way in hell he’s admitting something like that. He’d sound like a simp!

“Who would you save?” he asks. Surely you have someone you’d put before anyone else. Anyone would be lucky to be your number one.

“No one.” 

Jungkook knows he shouldn’t feel a certain way about your answer, but he can’t control how his lips curl into the slightest smile. Your response is proof that the two of you aren’t as different as it seems. He might even like you for it.

Heck, he might even offer to do the whole damn project by himself and still give you credit for it! That’s the plan he has cooked up for his antisocial self—until you keep insisting on working together. Something about meeting up on the weekend. Maybe he should stop playing hard to get and just say okay.

“I’m busy.” He immediately hates himself for saying it. That’s his default response for any sort of social gathering, and his dumbass went on autopilot for no reason.

“Busy with what?” The way you flutter your eyelashes at him is both innocent and seductive. Are you actually flirting with him? Because it’s working.

“My newborn,” he utters out of panic. It didn’t entirely come out of his ass, though. The vet did say his kitten is around eight weeks. That’s basically a newborn, and she’s definitely been keeping him busy.

But then your eyes get all big and sparkly. “You have a child?”

How the fuck is Jungkook supposed to respond to that? You’re so excited over a human baby that doesn’t exist, and now he has to be the bringer of bad news. He normally doesn’t feel bad for others, but this makes him feel like absolute shit.

“If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?” you offer. Why the fuck are you so gullible and trusting in him, and why is that a huge turn-on for him?

“I was just fucking with you…” he finally comes clean. You look exactly like the surprised Pikachu meme, and yes, it’s adorable. Fine, you win. He gives you his number and address and invites you over. 

All that for a fucking project.

When Jungkook returns home, a sleepy kitten waddles its way over to the door to greet him. She yawns her fish breath in his face as soon as he picks her up for a kiss. Ungrateful little demon.

She doesn’t stop there, either. With a burst of energy and a bushy tail, she flicks her eyes around, looking for a wire to chew on. The computer cords must be quite appetizing because she keeps trying to eat them.

“Hey, that's dangerous, Lucy.” Jungkook peels the kitten away from the wires and sets her down on his bed, but she just runs right back into the danger zone. “Lucinda, you little shit.”

Twenty minutes later, the boy makes a run to the pet store and returns with a few peace offerings. He’s not much of a cat person, so he has no idea what all the young kittens are into nowadays. Hopefully they like mouse toys and pink bunnies.

Like the new father he is, Jungkook spends the rest of his evening teaching the kitten how to play fetch, rocking her to sleep, and tucking her in with the mouse and bunny. Finally, the demon has been tamed.

By the time he gets into bed, it’s already past midnight. He’s exhausted and should probably get some sleep, and yet his mind is still wandering. He can’t quite shake that image of you getting down on your knees at his desk, just begging for his attention. For a second, it looked as though you, the most popular girl on campus, were lusting after his cynical smartass self. The mere possibility of that lures his hand into his pants to address that ache he’s been enduring all day. But before he can get any relief, he hears a set of paws back on the prowl.

Jungkook hobbles out of bed and turns on the light. To no one’s surprise, the naughty kitten is caught red-handed with a wire in her mouth.

With a sigh, he collects the kitty, sits her down in his lap, turns his computer on, and opens up the code for the partner project. It’s going to be a long night.

The funny thing is, the assignment itself doesn’t require much time or effort. What takes up all his time and effort is this silly kitten. She’s adorable but so damn needy. Kind of like you. If you were here to work on the project with him like you’d fought so hard to do, you’d surely be much too big of a distraction. No work would ever get done when you bat your eyes at him and giggle over the tiniest things.

It takes a good few hours between modifying and adding lines of code and keeping an eye on the troublemaker, but Jungkook eventually gets it done before the sun rises. As an added bonus, the naughty little wire fairy has finally worn herself out. She curls into a ball on top of Jungkook’s chest and falls into a deep slumber. The boy is out a minute later.

It’s around ten in the morning when Jungkook wakes up and checks his phone. You’re supposed to drop by sometime today, aren’t you? He wishes he knew when to expect you, or if you weren’t coming at all. It’s up to you to message him, though, since he gave you his number and not the other way around.

Just then, he hears a knock at the door. His first instinct says it’s you. But then he checks his phone again and sees no new message from your unknown number. Surely you’d shoot him a text before heading his way.

It’s probably just the special package of kitty toys he ordered a few days ago. He’d get up to check, but he’s not trying to disturb the little rascal from her slumber. She’s still resting peacefully on his chest, and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

But what if the package gets stolen? Jungkook spent a lot more money than he’d like to admit on those kitty toys, and he’d be pretty pissed if someone took that away from his child.

Groaning, Jungkook slowly lifts the sleepy kitten off his chest and places her on the warm spot where he’d been lying. She stretches out her tiny limbs but otherwise continues her snooze. Perfect.

The first thing he sees when he opens the door is your bare tummy because you’ve apparently decided to show up at his door unannounced in a micro crop top. It’s so short your pretty tits might pop out if your arms were held above your head. Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t mind seeing a little underboob if that’s the look you’re going for today.

Then he notices you staring at him like he’s a stranger. You haven’t even greeted him yet. He watches as your eyes travel up his bare arm to his face and messy man bun, and then back to his arm. That’s when it hits him. This is the first time you’re seeing any of his tattoos and piercings. 

The quiet studious Jeon Jungkook at school doesn’t look like the type to have a full sleeve or this many piercings. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself and prefers to keep a low profile. Life is just easier that way. That’s why he always takes his piercings out and covers his tattoos with a hoodie when it’s time to go to class. 

Seeing him now in a muscle tank must be quite shocking to you.

“Why do you look like that?” You have the audacity to point the finger at him when you’re looking that good in your little crop top. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

Oh? You sound kind of upset at the fact that he’s been intentionally hiding his body art in class. Like you’ve been missing out.

“Maybe,” he answers as he leads you inside. Your curious eyes are still glued to his tattoos. You ask why he hides it all, and he mentions his distaste for compliments and small talk. 

He does it to avoid the exact things you’re so good at attracting.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” You bring out a pouty lip to combo with those puppy eyes. He wonders how you make your pupils so big like that. And what the fuck are you so whiny for? You want to admire his body art that badly? Fine.

“I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment.” Without a single thought, he lifts his tatted arm for you to grab onto. Your hands are so soft and warm as they slide across each tattoo. It’s in times like this that Jungkook wishes his entire body was covered in tattoos for you to trace with that angelic touch.

After what feels like forever, you still haven’t said your one compliment. It seems like you’re just using this as an excuse to latch onto his arm like his little kitten. 

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” He’d give you a nudge but his arm is too busy being fondled.

“I wish I could see all of them.” Your eyes meet his as your tits press into his arm. The compliment is innocent at face value, but the implications behind it sure as hell aren’t. Oh, you definitely want to fuck him.

If you think you can just waltz into his home with that crop top, drool all over his tattoos, and ask for sex so shamelessly, you’re not wrong. His body is aching to squeeze those tits, to feel just how tight you are, and to make you squirm until you squirt.

“Ooh kitty.” Like an easily distracted toddler, you toss his arm aside and move on to the next toy that fascinates you. The kitten drops her mouse in front of you and sniffs your hand when you scoop her up. Jungkook watches from afar as his own kitten steals you away from him. She even presses her pink nose to your cheek. That little fucker.

Jungkook has to bite his tongue at least five times to stop himself from asking if you’re done playing with his cat. He’d come off as jealous and needy for your attention. Instead, he acts like the mature father he is and puts her to bed in that pink new donut cushion he’d bought for her the other day. She kneads her paws on the bunny until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and settles into the loaf position. He’s convinced she’s only behaving like an angel right now to impress his lady friend. 

“So what’s this project again?” The boy has no intentions of actually working on the project, but he’d prefer it if you weren’t so focused on his cat.

“You’d know if you were listening!” You turn back to the cat again. He could’ve sworn he heard you whispering something into her triangle ears like, “Your daddy is so useless.”

Hearing that name come out of your mouth is confirmation. Confirmation that you’d be so submissive if he were to spread your legs open and make you his little plaything. And he kind of likes the sound of that.

“I’m just fucking with you again. I already finished it, by the way,” he hums. Since you seem to be the stubborn type when it comes to project participation, he sits you down at his computer with the finished code to prove that daddy is not in fact useless.

He expects you to be all wide-eyed and impressed by his work, but you simply sigh as you run the program. Great. It appears he has yet another ungrateful little thing on his hands.

But then you start adding in a bunch of stuff “for the aesthetic” because although he’s “quite possibly the nerdiest boy you’ve ever met,” there’s still room for growth when it comes to “the fun shit.” And by “the fun shit,” you mean coding in a cat doing some elaborate kpop choreo. 

Half an hour later, you run the final product again and submit it in its perfect form. Aren’t you the nerd here? Quite possibly the prettiest nerd he’s ever met.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd,” Jungkook says before face-palming internally. Why does he always resort to name-calling as his way of flirting with people? This is why no one likes him and why he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. He’s going to ruin a good thing with you if he keeps that up.

But to his surprise, you throw the name right back at him with a playful smile on your face. “If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd.”

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him.” But a threesome with you? Sounds interesting.

You call Jim an asshole and don’t deny that you have a bunch of shallow relationships with the people in your class. When the boy asks you about it, you admit it’s intentional. It’s this mindset of surrounding yourself with a lot of different people until you run into the few you click with. 

And while Jungkook can’t relate to having that many connections to his peers, he understands the desire for someone who cares for you unconditionally and makes you want to do the same. He’s been waiting for that person to show up for him too. Idly. At least you’re putting yourself out there.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, lying down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling and not at the pretty person sitting less than a foot away from him. You’d joined him on the bed at some point to play with the kitten, but the feline was very quick to abandon you. Now it’s just you and him.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in.” Your voice is flirty and soft. The boy knows he might have a big ego at times, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about him. You wouldn’t be on his bed eyeing him like that if that weren’t the case.

With that knowledge in mind, Jungkook decides to tease you some more. “I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it? You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” Your face hovers over his like the moon during an eclipse, except you’re much more enticing to look at. He catches your eyes on his lips until they find their way up to meet his gaze. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

Liar.

“Really?” His body suddenly moves on its own, overcome with the lust that had been building up since you first showed him those puppy eyes in class. He pulls you beneath him and holds both of your wrists above your head. He was right. That crop top is indeed short enough to show him some underboob with you in that helpless position. And, much like how you said you wanted to see all his tattoos, he wants nothing more in this moment than to see the rest of you until he’s seen it all. 

Purposely keeping the tiniest distance between his lips and yours, he whispers, “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

As the afternoon turns to evening, you’re still at Jungkook’s place, still fondling his arm on his bed, and still obsessed with all the art and piercings that grace his body. The two of you had fallen asleep after getting a few rounds of filthy sex out of your systems, much to the boy’s surprise. He’s used to people leaving right after, whether it’s because the relationship was purely sexual or because it just wasn’t worth his time. You’re different, though. There’s something about you that he wants to keep holding onto.

“Did this one hurt?” You poke the metal sticking out of his eyebrow.

“Not as much as you stabbing me with your finger just now,” he frowns, running a hand through his messy hair. The man bun must’ve come out at some point in the midst of all that hair pulling and wrestling in the sheets.

“You must have really low pain tolerance then,” you giggle with your finger ready to poke him someplace else. But before you can do so, he closes his hand around yours and tucks your pointy finger away to put an end to your antics. “You’re no fun,” you pout.

“Really? You seemed like you were enjoying it when I let you s—”

“Where’s this one from?” You somehow dodge the accusation and free your finger from his grasp to poke the shark tattoo that you now know hides beneath his shirt. You’re so sneaky.

“Someone.” Aka the same artist he gets his gossip from.

“What about the… snake one?” Of course that’s the one that pops into your dirty little head.

“Someone else.” Aka the one he might have slept with a few times before she convinced him that the snake would look good on him there. She wasn’t wrong. “You’re nosy.”

“I’m just asking! Maybe I want a tattoo too!” you squeak. Jungkook has no doubt in his mind that you’d look pretty damn hot with any tattoo anywhere on that body. “Tattoos are attractive, no?”

“Be honest, you only fucked me for my tattoos, huh.” The boy knows this to be false because you aren’t the shallow type, but he just wants to hear what other good things you have to say about him. Because maybe he doesn’t hear that a lot from others.

“Obviously. It had nothing to do with how hot you are, or how easy you are to talk to, or how soft you are for your cat, or how perfect of a pair we made for that project,” you lie with the most charming smile ever, snuggling up as close as you possibly can to his body. Twirling his long hair around your finger, you tuck it behind his ear, and whisper, “I’m such a little slut for your tattooed cock.”

The boy gets yet another urge to tear your clothes off again and feel your bare body connect with his so perfectly. He’s just about to shove his hand into your panties (you gave up on pants after the third time) when you let out a tiny snicker.

“I take back what I said about you not being fun,” you say, lips flush against his neck. “You’re fun to tease.”

Him? Fun to tease? Maybe you’re forgetting about all the teasing and torture he put you through earlier. Maybe you’re in need of a little reminder.

“Hey,” he says in his stern parent voice. You look up at him with those big innocent eyes again. Oh great. It’s clear that you know his weakness and aren’t afraid to exploit it. Just like how his naughty little kitten knows she can get away with anything because she’s too cute to get mad at. “Behave or I’ll kick you out.”

“Oh?” His so-called threat catches your attention enough to get your ass in his lap and your hands tangled in his hair. You let him taste your lips, your tongue, your everything—a sweet taste he won’t ever get sick of. “Do whatever you please to me,” you purr as the soft kisses quickly become an unbearable heat of pure desire.

Between you and his kitten, Jungkook already knows he’s gonna have his hands full. The thought of caring for others would normally irk him, but it’s not like he could ever say no to you or the kitten, even if he tried.

[reccyls]

Sengoku Cat Cafe (3rd party characters edition)

This is a translation of the bonus cat POV (!!!) stories that are from the castle gacha I got the above image from. There are 3 stories:

3rd party (starring Funiko ≽^•⩊•^≼, a cute little black kitten)

Kasugayama (starring Joururi /ᐠﹷ ‸ ﹷ ᐟ\ﾉ, a classy calico lady)

Azuchi (starring Kabutomaru /ᐠ ˃ ⤙ ˂ マ Ⳋ, a tough and proud tuxedo boy)

3rd party faction story

(This is a tea shop near Sakai port. Funiko's new home.) (The grandpa who owns this shop just adopted me.) (I'm this shop's maneki-neko, I guess? Anyway, it's time to work today!)

Kicho: I knew it. So this was the store Mai was talking about.

(Ah, it's Mr. Merchant!) (Funiko remembers him from last time, when he came with one of his subordinates.)

Funiko: Meow.

Kicho: ...You look like you're doing well.

(Now that I look closer, he looks like a kind person...)

Motonari: ! What are you doing here... Don't tell me you were taking her seriously...

Kicho: ...Isn't that what you're doing here yourself?

(Hmmm? 'Her'? Who do they mean? What are they talking about?)

Kennyo: This is the place she was talking about... Ah.

Motonari: You too, huh.

Kicho: We're bothering the other guests. Let's head inside first.

Kennyo: It does seem quite crowded, true.

Motonari: There's only one empty table back there.

Kicho: We've got no choice, then. We'll sit together.

Motonari: A "cat cafe", huh. The hell's so good about a place like this anyway...

(Eep, this person is a little scary, maybe...)

Kicho: Motonari, you're scaring the kitten. Don't be too forceful. You have to pet her gently.

Motonari: Hah? Don't tell me what to do.

Kennyo: Come here... There, there, that's a good girl.

Funiko: Mew...

(Ah, there, that spot on my neck, ahhh... He knows all of the best scratching spots...)

Owner: It's just about time for her to eat, so would you like to try feeding her?

(Yay, it's fish time! Funiko loves fish time!)

Motonari: She sure got a dopey look on her face all of a sudden. Reminds me of a certain someone...

(Ahh... He can smile like that too, huh. I wonder who he's talking about?)

Kicho: Pay no mind to Motonari. Come, eat.

Motonari: Heh, smart kid. 'Course she's running to the person holding the spoon.

Funiko: Mya, myaaa!

Kicho: Take it easy. If you eat that fast, you're going to choke.

(Fiiiine...)

Kicho: Good girl.

(Phew... now that I'm full, I'm getting sleepy...) (...That looks soft...)

Funiko: Meow, meow...

Motonari: What's she doing, stepping all over my cape?

Kicho: It's called kneading. I've heard that cats engage in such behavior when they feel at ease.

Motonari: ...Wasn't she scared of me a minute ago?

(Ahh, this kimono feels really nice.)

Kennyo: Cats are cautious creatures by nature... but this little one is still a baby. Kennyo: Perhaps she has perceived your true nature, and feels that she can trust you?

Motonari: ...The hell are you implying?

Kennyo: You like small animals, don't you?

Motonari: ...Who knows. Not like I love them.

(Small animals? So, like cats?) (Hmmmm.... sleepy........)

Kicho: ...She's asleep.

Motonari: Oi, don't sleep on that.

Kennyo: Motonari, leave her be.

Kicho: She'll wake up on her own eventually.

(I'm not scared anymore, good night...)

And so, curled up in a soft cape, Funiko had a very good nap.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

If you were my plushie I'd bring you with me under my arm everywhere I go! I'd make sure to have a cosy little pocket in my bag to hide you if it's too loud or I'm worried about you getting dirty. And I'd do little plushie spa days with you and have tea parties with you and cuddle you to sleep every night 🩵

🥺 y'all are too nice. That sounds wonderful, I'd love to be your plushy. I know I'm made of felt and stuffing but the way you treat me makes me wanna purr. Not a full one tho, one of those little purrs kittens make, maybe it could help you get to sleep?

[kenniilovesthethicc]

Today is my birthday! I wrote a self insert crack(?)fic where I get vored

Enjoy!

Birthdays were never dull in Night Raven College.

It just so happens that today, the 5th of September, is Kennii's birthday. While it's been about a year since he got isekai'd into another universe and became the prefect of Ramshackle dorm, it is only now that he gets to party with all of his newfound friends. With the radio blasting hits from the collaborative Playlist made in the group chat, as well as no fighting as of yet, it was a pretty cool vibe. Kennii was drinking a lemonade while Grim was stuffing his face with only the fattest of fish a cat could eat.

"This party's amazin!" The cat mrowed through mouthfuls of quality seafood.

"It is a good party," the magicless human agreed as he looked across the hall fondly at each guest. "I do wonder when the game Floyd and Jade organized is gonna start... and I'm also fearful of what in the world it could even be."

The eel twins had offered (begged) to take part in planning the party's events, and while Kennii was hesitant to say yes he couldn't help but oblige to their cute yet intimidating faces.

"I want no part in whatever ridiculous fanfare those beasts have in store," Riddle sneered, taking a small sip of his tea. "Tomorrow's unbirthday party needs to be situated before my bedtime, so whatever he wants us to do he should begin promptly."

"I just hope nobody dies in this 'game'..." Vil mutters to the side with similar suspicion.

As if willed into fruition, a spoon tapped against a glass to gather the attention of the party goers.

"Hey bozos it's game time!!!" Floyd yowled with glee into the large room.

"Ahem- I believe what he means is; thank you all for attending the prefect's birthday assembly," Jade corrected. "Kennii entrusted the two of us with putting together this celebration, and it is our honor to invite you all to a little game we wish to play."

Everyone sans Kalim gave a dubious look to the tweels. Azul could be seen in the background mumbling under his breath with a slightly embarrassed face (obvious that he knows what's about to happen.) "It's not a hard game, but there's only one prize~" Floyd added while looking over at Kennii.

THAT got everyone's attention.

"Ooo is Kennii gonna smooch one of us if we win?" Cater jokingly asked at Lilia. "If so I need to put on my new lip balm!"

"Meep! The prefect is the prize???" Idia chirped anxiously aloud before typing ▪︎Sorry m8s, I'm gonna win, no cheat codes required▪︎

As the murmurs got around, Jade hushed the crowd again. "Oh, I hear you all are so very curious to know how this young man fits into this game's reward," he begins, walking around the center of the room to draw out tension. "Well, I believe to find out we must begin with a bit of magic."

Kennii looked up at the tall man's face with nervous curiosity: what in the world did he get himself into? Jade offered him a potion of some kind, and many of the potionology nerds went wide-eyed. Oh well, there was already an agreement made, might as well do it.

Gulp gulp gulp...

Pretty tasty! Time to see what the fuck it does. The prefect got a rush of lightheadedness before quickly poofing to the size of a small doll. Ah, it was a shrinking potion recipe. Tasted similar to the limited time shrinking potion from Beanfest to be honest, but way stronger.

"Oh no..." Trey sighed.

"Bloody hell..." Riddle cussed.

"Ta-da! Tiny Shrimpy!" Floyd announced as he lifted the small human to show off like a newborn kitten. "Cute enough to eat, don't ya think?" "What-"

The prefect got an inkling as to what was going to happen to him at the end of this, and he prepared for the chaos. "That's right; if you win the game, you get to eat Kennii~" And just like that, chaos.

The first years all screamed in bewilderment, the remaining second years looked flabbergasted, and the third years side-eyed eachother to hell and back.

"Wait wait wait; you two mean to tell us that Kennii wants to get EATEN?" Ace questioned with a bright blush.

"I never knew he was that strange..." Deuce pondered next to him.

"No kiddin..." Epel concured.

The guests all murmured once more about their opinions on all this madness.

"Well, it's not the worst birthday present all things considered. Better than Crowley's gift at least," Kennii admitted. Floyd sat him back down onto the table as Jade explained the game itself.

"Kennii told us of a party game from his old universe and we wanted to try sharing it with all of you. It goes like this: we compiled several images onto a slide show, and each image is zoomed in. You must guess what the image is to pass and make it to the next round. It gets more pixelated with each round, and thus the winner of the final round will earn the prize." It was simple enough in theory, one would figure.

"This is quite trivial; I shall have no issue competing," Malleus smugly claimed, finding this all very fascinating.

"WAKA SAMA, THERE SHALL BE NOBODY BESTING YOU!" Sebek declared in his loyalty (even if he himself wants to eat the prefect out of jealousy...)

"I guess I'm hungry enough to play. Herbivore does have a decent bit of meat on their bones," Leona remarked nonchalantly.

"And that meat will be in my belly by the end of this, shishishi!" Ruggie snickered while licking his chops in playful hunger.

Kennii definitely had some best and worst case scenarios for the results of this game, but he was very excited to watch the game itself. With everyone agreeing to play (for intended purposes or to save Kennii from said purposes) Floyd booted up the PowerPoint style website on the video board and started the slideshow. "Here's the first one!"

"Shoe!" Multiple voices answered.

"Yup, it's a shoe," confirmed the sneaker savvy eel. "Malleus, Silver, you're out." The dragon prince was surprised, but he accepted defeat. Silver was woken from his quick nap while Sebek was dumbfounded that his prince lost so quickly.

..

The game went on for a few more rounds until there were only 3 boys left: Ruggie, Lilia, and Idia. Ruggie was observant and his exposure to so many random items through his many jobs and experiences helped him gain a lead in trying to get a little snack; Lilia was very keen and while he never indicated if he would eat the small human, he was now in a personal competition against whom he now recognized as his online pal, Idia. He wanted to best that whippersnapper at ONE game at least. Idia was crushing hard on Kennii ever since they were dared to sing a romantic JPOP song together during karaoke night, and he really did wonder what he tasted like. Those carnivorous teeth he has weren't just a design choice, even if most of his diet is candy and soda.

"Prepare to be thoroughly schooled," Lilia teased the boys while they hyperfocused on the screen. "In your dreams, Draculaura," Idia playfully retorted back. With that, the final round began.

"Is it a French fry?" Lilia asked the hosts confidently. "We're sorry, Mr. Vanrouge, but you are out." The old fae nodded in accepted defeat while Ruggie and Idia were the last men standing. They stared for a long, long time, Idia mumbling to himself, before finally Ruggie shouted, "IT'S A MCGRIDDLE!"

With the winning bell sounding off, Ruggie was now the winner of the micro Kennii. "Congratulations, Ruggie," Azul sighed, glad this was settled relatively quick. "Be careful with the giovanotto, he's fragile." "Don't worry, Azul - I'm not as cruel as your cronies are~" Thus, the hyena picked up the little Prefect and swiftly (and safely) plopped them into his warm maw.

GULP!

"Well.." Trey sighed.

"He really did eat Kennii.." Jack stated the obvious for emphasis. Idia was seething and popped an OREO pocky stick into his mouth to cope.

With Kennii now in his tummy, Ruggie was as happy as a clam. "Ahhh~ you're pretty tasty, dude. Not too filling though, but the free food padded me out well enough as is, shihi!"

"Marvelous!" Rook interjected all of a sudden. "I've yet to witness a beastman swallow live prey, and my my, those throat muscles looked fort comme un bœuf as the Trickster made his descent into your stomach, Monsieur Dandelion!" Ruggie had a disturbed look as the hat wearing blond examined his anatomy way too interestedly. "Sorry, Rook, but you've had enough close and personal experiences with my body than I'd like to admit to the class; now if ya would keep the hands off my belly in public..."

Ever since the tickling episode, Ruggie knew well enough not to let the huntsman touch his person while others were in the room.

"Is this a gift worthy of your 18th birthday, Kennii?" Jade inquired from the outside. "It's certainly warm and cozy in here, but the partially digested food is wigging me out a little..." With that reminder, Ruggie quickly cast a protection spell onto the human in his tummy to prevent disaster. "Congrats, Ruggie. Remember to cough em back out before the spell wears off," Leona chuffed as he patted the smaller beastman's abdomen tiredly before making his way for the exit.

"I'm puzzled as to how the Prefect responded to this all," Azul began. "Did you two know he would be this nonchalant about being swallowed whole!?" The tweels simply chuckled mysteriously as they started cleaning up the room used for the venue.

As everyone either helped clean or exit, Ruggie kept a paw on his stomach to feel Kennii's sleepy movements from within his core, a warm hue to his complexion. "Happy Birthday, lil snack~" His belly rumbled in satisfaction quietly through the rest of the day, and he too was ready for a little nap.

The birthday party was now at a close, and it would certainly be one to remember for many years to come 🎉

[teakoodrawz]

[ 💛 || late night - FL AU / Sunburn ]

[ it's past 1am. A single silent evening. 3 devils sleeping in the same bed together. One of them still awake. The bed is large enough for them to sleep together. ]

[ Sweet on the left side of the bed. Cap'n in the middle. Mark in the last part. Tho he's the only one still awake. He seemed a little tired. He can't sleep due to the thoughts running over his head. He sighed ]

[ then he heard a small knock at the balcony door. Mark slowly sat up. Hearing it again. Who could that be? He gently got off the bed. Slowly putting the whole blanket covered on Cap'n. Gentle soft kisses on his side ]

[ he walked towards the balcony door and slowly opening it. He was surprised to see Sunny at his doorstep. She smiles and hugs him ] " hello kitten~! " [ she greeted. her feathers wiggle out of excitement ]

[ Mark seemed really happy to see her. She pulls down the hug. She looked at the others sleeping. And then looked up to Mark ] " i see you're still awake? I was going to ask you out on a tea party again. I actually forgot what time is it in your place. Hehe~! " [ she whispered ]

" oh no no no it's fine! I'm uuh.. Can't actually sleep... And maybe needed a bit of time to relax. " " are you sure? If you still wanna come then. Alright~! "

" alright. Just gimma a moment to change a little. "

[ he turned around fixing his current attire. Still wearing that black polo suit and pants and hat. He walked slowly to his closet. Getting his coat and putting on his shoes and accessories ]

[ while looking at that mirror. He saw a really glowing sunshine flower on the side of the desk. He didn't bother asking or knowing how he got there. He just assumes it's just Sunny playing around ]

[ he walked back to the balcony and closed the door gently ] " alright. I'm ready. " [ he smiled. He gave her a kiss in the cheek as Sunny blushed and smiled. Cherishing that affection. She held his hand and opens a portal and they both left ]

_ _ _ _ _

[ a very pleasant quiet day. The sky is bright. Scenery is clear. White butterflies roaming. Breeze of wind whispering. A set of table with tea sets and biscuits and treats. The two sat next to each other ]

" More~? " " if you please~ " [ He offered his teacup as Sunny pours the kettle. He takes a sip. Tasting the great sweet honey tea with a bit of lemon drop ]

[ joy and giggle spreads the whole area. Mark started having a thought ]

" i was wondering...how come you were the only one who knows this place existed? It's like... Your secret garden? " [ he tilted his head in question ]

" oh! I just found this place! I'll tell a secret about how i found out about this place soon~! " [ she smiled ]

" i see... Say. Is it okay if i ever invited Sweet and Cap'n here with Cakes? Just so in case they would also having a good time here. " " hmm.. Alright! They both seemed really happy to be together. So sure~! " [ she smiled genuinely ]

[ Mark always loved to see that smile all the time. It really warms his heart. He slowly reached his hand to hers. She blushed. He slowly pulling her hand to his mouth. Giving a gentle kiss ]

[ she giggles. How cute. It really feels nice when he's around with her. Tho being with his other partners are nice too. It would be much more better if they all have a several free time slacks to get even more close and spend alot more time together ]

" i love you... My princess.. " [ he pulled her hand to his cheek. Letting it caressing the soft gentle touch ]

[ they both got to head to heads. Mark started purring. Sunny chuckled. Caressing him even more. It made him feel a bit more touched starve. Continued the affections together. He purrs really softer ]

" my kitten... "

[greenelectricsky]

How do you end your day?

Admetus: Going to sleep. What do you want?

Adonis: Doing something at home, around a home, with my husbands, with my family... Just doing something.

AlmonDisco: Catching my boyfriend, taking him into my arms and finally hugging him as much as I like!

Amberlina: As usual.

Amun: How you do that, how you do this... Can you just leave me alone?

Asparagus Jr: If I'm not looking for someone? With mum and dad, helping her to keep him in line. He loves to sneak away to the theatre!

Bill Bailey: Having fun with the rest! If they tell you otherwise, they are lying!

Bombalurina: Treating myself like a queen.

Bustopher Jones: Supper, second supper and some snacks in the middle of the night.

Carbucketty: Evening zoomies!!!

Cassandra: Talking with Everlasting Cat or those who aren't here anymore.

Coricopat: Wishing away all those shadows and vile powers who want to hurt my fellow cats.

Cream: With my husbands, smiling at their antics.

Cysiek: Duh, being fabulous at some party!

Demeter: Regretting most of their decisions.

EarthyRose: Catching up with my friends, family and enemies.

Electra: Oh! Oh! Ohhhh!!!! Snuggling with family or making their life miserable!

Etcetera: Kissing Tugger's photo wishing him "goodnight"!!

Exotica: Doing my stuff, as far away from hoomans as I can.

FanFanGrace: With my fur care routine, with my claws care routine, with my ears care routine...

FinFun: Trying to figure out what was happening in the last twelve hours... and what was my fault and what wasn't.

FlowerFlow: With a smile. Happy or sadistic, it's up to you and what have you done.

George: Running away from chores! Like always! Bye!!!

Grizabella, making big, sweet eyes: Hoping for a warm place and some food... and maybe some pets...

Gus: Remembering all those beautiful times when I was young and strong, so I could be with actors without sleeping, listening to their stories, learning new roles...

Haze: I also didn't end anything. I'm not responsible for that. Nope.

HoneyTrap: Kissing, snuggling and having fun with my boyfriends. And you? Jealous?

Jellylorum: With Jenny, talking, gossiping, drinking tea and planning some dea...

Jennyanydots: Definitely nice and sweet things.

Jemima, digging something (grave): Happy and loving everyone!

Jemmysweets: Having fun looking at my son in law when he tries to get forgiveness from my son...

Macavity: If you ask me about anything again I'll just curse you!

Mistoffelees: Making the most beautiful and silent fireworks!

Mirage: After I terrorise the last customer? I go to the junkyard and wonder how it is to live only with cats.

Moon: Coming back from my travels and guessing what Sun fucked up today.

Mungojerrie: Thinking how much mischief I can cause the next day!

Munkustrap: My day never ends... I'm in the neverending limbo of... Oh, for Cat's sake, what now???

Alonzo: Trying to persuade Munku to go home and stop worrying about... Munkustrap, sit down, I take care of that...

Plato: Hoping without hope Alonzo does something before Munkustrap explodes...

Old Deuteronomy: Trying to guess what they messed up the whole day...

Oranglow: If I'm still alive? Trying to keep that way. If I'm dead? Being eaten by something, probably.

Papyrus: Reading a book and falling asleep. Always the same mistake...

Pouncival: Usually showing off with my abilities and acrobatics! Everyone love it!

Quaxo: Playing with stars and clouds, telling kittens stories.

Rum Tum Tugger: Being wonderful and clever, as always!

Rumpleteazer: Burglar and crimes! Oh, and sweets of course!

Rumpus Cat: Being wild and hairy!

Shyny: Surprising my boyfriend with hugs from the shadows!

Silenia: With murder.

FinFun: Yep, usually murder on my father.

Sillabub: Wishing everyone "beautiful dreams"!

Skimbleshanks: Trying not to go crazy with everyone's madness... Hoomans are absolutely unpredictable!

Sky: ...

: Uhm, you're right, I just... I just go away... Sorry...

SpicyJuice: Wishing all those who irritated me today so they don't meet me tomorrow.

Star: Looking at the moon and hoping Everlasting Cat is happy and petted enough.

Sun: Giving myself all the love I deserve!

Tango, twirl and run away. Fucker.

Tantomile: I'm thankful for no one irritated me enough to send on them the wrath of gods...

Tumblebrutus: Pranks!!!!!

TuśTuś: Probably with some new ideas I need to write down before I forget them! Oh! I'm sorry, I need to... Where is my notebook...?

Vaniliarity: Singing sweet lullabies for everyone and when I'm sure they will have sweet dreams I also go to sleep.

Victoria: Chatting with Everlasting Cat. She is really nice, you know?

[lolitasweetenoughtoeat]

Alice and the Pirates - Kitten's Wonder Night Tea Party

[therobotduchess]

I felt like making a post of my dream dresses (and a bag) with kitties.

[lifeofa-fangirl]

Enough Nothings

Pairing: Damiano x fem!reader

Summary: You and Damiano bond over the idea of a quiet night in

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff

A/N: I saw an instagram post from the Late Late Show where James Corden talks about how he met his wife and my mind went haywire thinking that this would be such a Damiano thing to do. Written in an hour or so, not proof read. First fic in years, let me know what you think! 

“Oh come on, having a little bit of fun won’t hurt you! Here, have a glass of wine, it might help you relax. And remember to enjoy this evening, you deserve it!”

 Before you could protest, your boss had grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter’s tray and shoved it in your hand. You opened your mouth, but before any words were formed, she gave you an encouraging pat on the back and disappeared into the crowd to mingle.

 You sighed as you watched her start to make the rounds, shaking hands left and right. She made it seem so effortless it almost made you jealous. Almost. Because as much as you appreciated her effort, appreciated that she had insisted you deserved a night out after all the hard work you put in for the charity organization, you still felt this was the last place you wanted to be right now. You would always prefer a quiet night in, cooking dinner and falling asleep in front of the television.

 Another sigh and you finally took a sip of your wine. ‘Come on, you can do this,’ you told yourself as you remembered you did enjoy the taste of the drink in your hand, although you rarely took the opportunity to enjoy it. ‘You’re not even 30 yet, you should be out and about every night. This can be a fun Friday night. Don’t be a party pooper.’

 You almost choked on your next sip of wine as you heard those exact five last words being repeated out loud behind you. Coughing, you turned around in surprise. You would recognize that voice and that Italian accent anywhere.

 “Victoria!” you said as soon as you confirmed your suspicion.

 Victoria De Angelis spun around on her heels when she heard her name being called. “Ah, there you are! We’ve been looking for you!” she cheerfully announced. As she pulled you into a hug, you realized she wasn’t alone. You also realized that her words hadn’t been directed at you, but at the man accompanying her. You recognized the singer of her band.

 “This is Damiano, the singer of my band,” Victoria confirmed when she stepped back from hugging you. You nodded your hello as Victoria introduced you to Damiano in return. You only heard half of her explanation about how she met you when the band had stayed in London for a couple of months, and you worked for the organization that was hosting that night’s charity event. You were too distracted by the way the man in front of you was staring at you with the beginning of a smirk.

 Damiano patiently waited for Victoria to finish and then accepted the hand you offered him, pulling it up to his lips without hesitation and pressing a small kiss to it. “Hi, pleasure to meet you. You might be the most beautiful woman in the world,” he greeted you, all the while never breaking eye contact.

 “Well thank you very much.” You offered him a smile in return and slightly twisted your head to the side to give him calculating look before adding, “That sounds like something you say a lot.”

 “I’ve never said it before in my life,” he shot back at you. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he spoke and that smirk never left his lips, but you also didn’t miss the sudden rosy tint on his cheeks.

 He could easily be feeding you lies, but somehow you were inclined to believe him. You didn’t offer a verbal response, choosing to shoot him an bright smile instead. Judging by his reaction, it did nothing to hide the matching tint that you were sure was now also on your own cheeks. Was it just you, or had someone suddenly turned up the thermostat?

 Not much later, Victoria had disappeared, most likely off getting into trouble. And you sat with Damiano in a dark corner of the bar. Getting tipsy on the sound of his laugh and how his touch gave you goosebumps. It was so easy to be around him. Within an hour and a half of meeting you were jokingly planning the rest of your lives together. Kids were a must, at least two of them, so they’d always have each other. Legolas and Bidet, he had already named his cats, and you insisted that the new kitten would be called Loki. The flower beds in your garden would contain many different flowers, so there would be something blossoming every season. Your bedroom needed a balcony, so he could serenade you from below. And you would need a big kitchen, with plenty of room for all the home cooked meals you were going to prepare.

 You found comfort in how he loved the prospect of a quiet night in. Glorious, he called it, the thought of chamomile tea and going to bed before eleven. You had quickly agreed, told him that at your age, you had very much passed the notion of going out every night. He was a couple of years younger than you but took it as a compliment when you teasingly called him an old soul in a young body.

 You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Victoria eventually showed up again. “Time to call it a night, lovebirds,” she teased you both with a grin. When you finally tore your eyes away from Damiano for the first time in a long while, you realized that there were only a couple of people left in the bar and the waiters had already started cleaning up.

 As the three of you stood outside waiting for a cab, the cold night air did nothing to get rid of Victoria’s words. Lovebirds, she had called you. Away from the secluded, quiet corner of the bar, you were starting to feel anything but, and much more like a fool. The harsh streetlights burned your confidence away and you just stood there, silently waiting as Victoria chatted away besides you. Sneaking glances at Damiano, trying to memorize the sharpness of his jawline, the glimmer of the tiny golden ring piercing his nostril, the brown of his eyes, convinced that you weren’t going to see him again.

 When your rides arrived, Victoria gave a quick side hug and a “We’ll talk later” before jumping into the first cab to get away from the cold night air as fast as possible, leaving you and Damiano alone on the sidewalk.

 You took a deep breath to gather your courage and were about to pull in Damiano for a hug as well, when you realized he didn’t seem to have any intention to move. Instead, he stood next to you, staring at the pavement and fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

 “Damiano?” you wondered, carefully reaching out to touch his arm, trying to figure out why he looked like a nervous child suddenly.

 Damiano looked up at you when you called out his name. His nervousness reflected in his eyes and he bit his lip when he just stared at you for a moment. Then, with a steadiness in his voice that surprised you, he said, “I was wondering… Well… what about tomorrow, we do nothing together. You could come over to my place and we could just do nothing. And then maybe we could stay in and do nothing on Sunday as well. And on Monday, we can go to work and afterwards we can do nothing if you’d like. And I’m thinking that if we do enough nothings, if our evenings are enough of nothing, then maybe this can become something.”

 “What do you think?” he asked as he looked at you hopefully. And while he looked so very young under the streetlights, his old soul had just pulled you in. This was it. You were in. And by an absolute miracle, so was he. “That sounds like a fun idea,” you told him with a smile.

 He beamed at your answer, before the both of you got distracted by Victoria shouting for him to hurry his ass up and get in the cab.

 “Go!” You gave him a slight push towards the car. “She has my number, text me the details for your plan,” you told him with a wink.

 Damiano was about halfway to the car and you were about to walk over to the other ride, when he turned and came running back only to stop in front of you. Before you could react, he had put a hand on your cheek, and used the other to pull you close. The next moment his lips were on yours in a gentle kiss.

 The moment was over almost before you fully realized what was happening. “See you tomorrow, bella ragazza mia,” he whispered against your lips before running off towards his ride again.

 You watched in stunned silence as their cab drove off. Left with the tingling feeling of where Damiano’s lips had just been and the exciting promise of nothing ahead.  

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

checkmate

summary: where y/n and spencer live in a world of soulmates; but how magical can it really be when the last words of your lover are the only indication of their existence.

word count: 7,054                                                                                               reading time aprox: 26 mins

warnings: character death, angst

a/n: this is my comeback fic, I hope you like it. I made sure to make it extra angsty to compensate for my disappearance :) also this fic can be read by anyone!

masterlist

Chess is a meticulous endeavor, not only in its cold and calculated nature, but also in the player’s ability to detect insecurity flash across their opponents' eyes, the unconscious idiosyncrasies that foretell future moves, and the slow descent into hopelessness that disintegrates the former’s conviction. Most will point out the cruelty of the game, how callous it must be knowing your end eight moves before it happens. However, others will oppose this notion as it is the game; one must lose to win.

It’s all a matter of who plays their pieces right.  

Before that pivotal moment, players can only maneuver through a black and white arena. Fingertips would drum in anticipation while the other would hover over their pieces, striding across the board with purpose. Regardless of the disparity between the players’ experience or skill, there is always one factor, unmoved by player attributes, that is not a disadvantage nor luxury for either party: time.  

Even in the checkered plane, nothing will matter. The players will cease to move, forced to end the game by the lack of time. This mechanism in nature acts as a failsafe if either individual is unable to conclude the game. In other words, there are only two outcomes: winning the game by will or letting time take that will away from you.  

However, what is not noticed is the growing ache in the winner’s chest, disappointment beginning to fester inside of them because of their loss in deciding. In that split realization, the winner is placed on an equal plane as the loser, wondering if they ever really won at all.  

This middle plane is beautiful and tragic simultaneously—maybe the beauty is in the tragedy. But as my palm leaves a bloodied handprint pressed against Spencer’s chest, all I can see is the world around me turning red.  

Please be okay, please be okay for me

My mouth would silently mutter in tandem with his desperate and reaching touches, a mantra I convinced myself could surpass time, all while knowing my will was seized from me the moment Spencer uttered the words imprinted at my hip.  

-

October 27th

2 days before  

Water vapor collected around the coffee mug pressed to my lips. Although it’s ironic to call it a ‘coffee’ mug considering it was filled to the brim with scalding tea. The tips of my fingers and the skin of my palms tingled at the heat given off. My thoughts drifted to the explanation of the first law of thermodynamics that Spencer had kindly explained during the walk home from the night before.

  An unconscious smile brushed over my lips briefly, reminiscing the blissful moments of the team gathered around a bar table after finishing up a briefing about a local case. A warm cloud of content passed through my chest while a lightness traveled from the bottoms of my feet to the summit of my forehead. The herbal tea traveling down my esophagus countered the cold nipping of the autumn air, bringing a welcome equilibrium to my wellbeing.  

I shrugged the knitted blanket over my shoulders further, staring into the calming view that the apartment window provided. Across from the building was a small, abandoned park. Most of the neighbors had steered clear of the area as it didn’t meet anyone’s aesthetic standards—well, except for mine. 

 Half of the trees have lost their leaves, counting down the days to winter. The park benches were covered with tangled vines, even some lacking required wood boards. In summary, the place was an overgrown jungle that no one was willing to inhabit. In result, the once communal area was condemned by the normal folk for being ‘too dead.’ However, I would oppose those who claim the lack of life in the park considering life is not only just living, but it is to invite death.  

In my observation of the park, a soft reflection suddenly appeared beside the yellow oak trees. In my peripheral, I can see my roommate creeping up behind me with his limbs moving catlike. I bit my bottom lip to conceal the amused huff threatening to escape me, instead settling to blowing over the steam rising from my cup.  

Just before I saw his head bobble over my shoulder, arms stretched out above me, I whipped around his lanky figure and ducked under his arm. “You know for an agent; I expected a better performance.” An inaudible yelp interrupted the fit of giggles I was in as some of the tea spilled onto my blanket. “Now look what you’ve done! Do you know how hard it is to get dark liquids off cotton?”  

“Just some hydrogen peroxide will do the trick,” Spencer shrugged, insisting to pull off the semi-damp blanket off my shoulders. “Plus, you messed up my bit!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was living with a five-year-old,” I teased, nudging him.

  Spencer craned his neck to the side, letting the sore tendons and muscles stretch out from just waking up. All without forgetting to let out an obnoxious yawn in addition to his exaggeratedly extended arms. “I’ll have you know that this five-year-old has three PhDs and three bachelors,” he boasted.  

“...and daddy issues.”  

Before I can find a way to defend myself, the same blanket that brought me solace previously was transformed into an unmerciful whip. Spencer chased me around the couch until I slipped and toppled over the cushions, landing on the throw pillows. I buried my head into the leather arm, shutting my eyes, while I replicated the nature of Spencer’s antics by emitting ridiculous snores. 

 “You can’t touch me while I’m sleeping,” I murmured, feigning my slow lull to slumber. “It’s socially unacceptable.” During my spiel, Spencer had playfully grabbed my ankles and dragged me to a sitting position.  

“SPENCER!” I gasped, clutching one of the pillows in hand and smacking him over the head with it. “You do not handle people like that! No wonder why you also have momm-”  

Spencer’s palm gently nudged me back onto the couch mid-sentence, leaving my frame to hit the cushions with a loud thud. A boom of laughter filled the empty space of my chest, my breath thinning as dopamine jumped from my brain’s synapses. An enchanted smile caressed the corners of my mouth mirroring the one Spencer was sporting.  

In these insignificant interactions, I would think back to the times where our comfortability was limited and reveled on how much our friendship grew over the years. There was a sense of solace that overwhelmed me knowing that introducing—and working on his—humor brought an auspicious light to the darkness that often clouded his mind.  

My lungs deflated with a hefty exhale, my arm slinging across my eyes in relaxation. Clamored feet and the rug shifting against the wood floor caught my attention. Freeing my line of vision, I was met with a raggedy-haired genius with barely a foot between us. I reached out to comb through his locks, the webbing of my hands catching the tangled curls. “You need to shower greasehead.”  

“Actually, the buildup of sebum and laloin in the gland of the hair follicles—coined as the sebaceous gland—offers moisture and protection, given that it is regulated upon its natural equilibrium.” Spencer leaned into the soft touch of my fingers, like how a kitten purrs against their owner’s affection.  

“Well, I don’t know about you almost-birthday-boy, but I don’t think you want to go into the next chapter of your life smelling like you just changed out of your first diaper.” I pushed myself up the couch, gesturing Spencer to the hallway bathroom. “This is the big 31!”  

“Y/N, we had a party for my 30th. I think I’m good to last for the decade,” he huffed, walking towards his bedroom to grab a change of clothes.  

“That’s not the spirit, Dr. Reid!” I yelled across the room. “I swear Spence, you’re the only person who’d turn down a party... And, you even turned down Rossi’s invitation to go all out in his backyard.”

“Another year to celebrate the ever-closing gap between my time on earth and my imminent demise—oh, and how can I forget celebrating it in an open space full of ticks and pollen,” Spencer sarcastically jested, his voice bouncing off the thin white walls.  

“At least you’d know your soulmate, right? Then I wouldn’t be the only one to deal with your ‘Debby Downer’ ass,” I added on, rolling my eyes at his usual pessimistic rulings.  

“I would prefer nihilistic, but if that vernacular serves you then to each their own.”

“Hey, maybe after you die, I and your soulmate can mourn over you—bond and all that—and then I can steal them away,” I teased.  

I looked to the lightning bolts etched into the crevices of my thighs, my fingertips tracing each design until it fell onto the carved words at my hip. In a way, the stretch marks made beautiful vines attached to the faded letters, covering the obvious red scratch marks that had resurfaced from my bad habits.  

I kissed my fingertips before planting them back onto the markings, chuckling to myself of the intimate gesture. Unconsciously, I began to rub at the tattooed words once again, hating how their protrusion made my skin crawl.  

“I mean I’m dead, what can I really do?” Spencer called out, stopping in his tracks when he reached the bathroom door. He faced me as he spoke, going on about his birthday celebration tomorrow—half of his speech unheard to me—until he requested my immediate attention. “You have to stop picking at the words, Y/N. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”  

“I know, I know,” I sighed, letting my dominant hand fall to my side. A pout fell on my lips at the loss of the small satisfaction scratching granted me. “But the words are just so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean you got lucky with the whole soulmate placement.”  

Spencer brought his free hand to his chest, thumb tracing over the small words typed on the skin. “Yeah, I guess I did get lucky huh.” A soft smile grazed over his lips while his eyes were still trained on the unknowing figure resting against the couch.  

“What does your marking read aga-”  

“Spence, what’s it say on your che-”  

I groaned in playful disbelief at the coincidental timing. “You know at this point I’m starting to think we’re telepathic, Spencer.”  

“That’s actually what my tattoo is,” he laughed. “It’s my name.”  

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, remembering the first time we brought it up in the early days of meeting one another. “Must’ve saved a lot of name tags in elementary school” I teased.  

Spencer shook his head, shuffling into the bathroom with a lightness in his steps. With the closing of the door, my gaze fell onto the marking once again. 

 Regardless of the mechanics of soulmates, I was never worried about the possibility of not meeting them. I was already at my happiest knowing shared moments like these were good enough. However, unbeknownst to my ideal wishes, an irking desire still lingered in the back of my head while fingers hovered over the imperfect skin.  

October 28th

1 day before

“Kid, you can’t sit there and tell me that finding your soulmate can be ‘scientifically extrapolated.’ That’s not the point,” Morgan amusingly shook his head at Spencer, ruffling the top of his head as he brushed past him.  

“Okay,” Spencer tutted, “tell me. What ‘is’ the point then?”

“Well, all I’m saying is that finding your soulmate—if you have one—is supposed to come supernaturally.”

“Morgan, did you just try to win over boy genius here by talking about the supernatural?” With a tilted smirk, I nursed the half-filled flute between my fingertips. My gaze flickered over to a pleased brainiac sharing the same mischievous glint found in my eyes. I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my eyes fluttering close to the sound of grown children bickering. 

 “Alright,” Morgan raised his hands up in defense. “All I was pointing out was that things like these can’t be solved by numbers and science.”  

“The same can be said about Newtonian physics, but look where we a-”  

Morgan flung a ball of crinkled wrapping paper Spencer’s way, aiming for his head. Spencer attempted to dodge the projectile—emphasis on attempted—only to have it hit him square in the face.  

“So much for those Newtonian physics, huh?” I teased while getting up to open another bottle of champagne. Spencer slouched in his chair, the paper cone hat on his head shifting to the side. A grimace replaced the smirk he initially wore, muttering about how he was going to get Morgan back.  

“Y/N! Bring that bottle over here when you’re done.” Morgan called out as I walked into the kitchen, pausing the ongoing discussion of the case we planned to tackle. “Also, bring another juice box for Reid here!”  

A chorus of laughter followed my ears which each step, a grin finding the corners of my lips. I rose to the tips of my toes to reach for the unopened bottle in the alcohol cabinet. I made my way to the freezer, taking out the bucket of ice I stored away hours ago. When closing the appliance door, my eyes landed on a picture magnetized to the surface.  

It was a physical reminder of the time that Spencer convinced me to dress up as Amy Pond, the eleventh doctor’s sidekick, for comic con. He too was dressed up in the doctor’s attire: a brown corduroy suit, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver. We both had silly grins planted on our faces, it seemed like nothing could tear down the joyous bubble we were in. Upon reflecting on the memory, the kitchen door swung open revealing a merry Spencer.  

“Hey, I was supposed to be getting you that juice box,” I joked.  

Spencer shook his head, pushing past me to get to the cupboard. “Very funny,” he droned, sarcasm dripping off his words. I leaned against the counter, setting the bucket of ice to the side. I analyzed his movements, noticing how often he fidgeted with his fingers or how his legs would clumsily turn inward at times.  

“You know,” he paused, turning around to face me, “In some countries ruled by military dictatorship, staring could be deemed as a call for execution.”  

I crossed my arms, challenging him. “Well last time I checked; we aren’t in any of those countries. Is that right, Dr. Reid?”  

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. “Did you need anything?”  

“No, why do you ask?”  

“Well, by the way you were checking me out, I would think you needed something.” He sauntered over to the opposite counter across the kitchen, hoisting himself up on the granite. I watched as the casual smirk fell off his face after failing his initial attempt to sit. The second attempt proved to be better, although that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at his impotence.  

“You know,” I repeated his words, grabbing the champagne and ice bucket as I began to stroll out of the room. “I’m really starting to think you have a better chance at ‘extrapolating’ your soulmate rather than finding them.”  

“Wait!”  

I whipped around to face him with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded for him to continue, watching as a sly expression reappeared on his face. “You forgot my juice.”  

I sighed, setting the items back down on the counter before reaching for the fridge. “You are a grown man, Spence,” I gesticulated at the boy. I grabbed Spencer’s favorite sparkling water and left it aside. “You couldn’t get your own?” I raised my eyebrows at him, ducking out of the refrigerator door.  

He crossed his legs, still propped up on the counter. “Well, you did call me a five-year-old and it is my birthday,” he argued, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.  

“I said that the other day, and considering it’s your birthday, that would mean you’d be old enough to conduct yourself,” I countered.  

“Actually, it’s grammatically inappropriate to say, ‘the other day’ when the event in question occurred yesterday,” he began to ramble. With an unimpressed nod, I began to slowly back away from the scene until I was abruptly stopped once again.  

“Wait!”  

“What!”

“You forgot to put it in a cup,” he meekly suggested, his face evident of mischief.  

“You’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you?” I groaned, shuffling towards where he was. “I’ll give you something to enjoy...” I whispered to myself.  

With a plan set in motion, I sauntered over to where Spencer sat. Once I was in front of him, I made sure to give no indication that I was moving beside him. Instead, I leaned forward, letting our chests press together as I reached up for a mug. I would be lying if I denied the faint blush warming up the apples of my cheeks or the tightness of my throat from this proximity. In a nervous hash, I could’ve sworn hearing Spencer’s breath hitch as my chin brushed against his neck.  

Feigning a confident disposition, I dropped back to the heels of my feet, finding myself to be inches away from the enamored and naive genius. “You need this?” I murmured, trying to maintain a collected tone of voice. However, Spencer did make it difficult with the intensity of his penetrating gaze or the way his breath fanned over my sensitive skin.  

For a lasting moment, I began to dissect the small specks of hazel hues in his eyes and how a dark pool of brown surrounded his irises. The tip of his nose was flushed in crimson and his mouth hung in what seemed like anticipation and hesitation battling it out. “Uh, yeah... thank you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, linking his fingers with mine to take the mug.  

Without breaking eye contact, he set the mug aside and away from view. I opened my mouth to say something, but I soon discovered a dessert residing in the back of my throat. Slowly my composure unraveled, leaving me and Spencer in a purgatory of uncertainty and elation. I heard my heart thump against the walls of my ribcage as my eyes traveled to the parting of his lips, his tongue ever so often swiping against the skin.  

I shook my head out of the trance we were in, popping the hypnotic bubble forming around us. With a trepidatious smile, I gestured to the living room, suggesting going back out there. “Do you want to...” I tied my hands behind my back, stepping away from him slowly. He nodded in response; his mouth tightly pressed into an awkward line.  

With less than obvious movements, we both tiptoed our way back to the liveliness of the other room, soon forgetting about the juice and cup all together.  

-

“Bye guys, thank you for coming! See you tomorrow.” I politely bid everyone a farewell, sending them safe wishes home as they excited through the front door. “Pen, are you coming with us tomorrow?” I received a tipsy nod and a few stumbling feet, but nonetheless confirmation for the case. Spencer was to the left of me doing the same, enduring some last-minute birthday teasing from Morgan before he made his exit.  

With the slow creaking of the door, I leaned against the wood, letting my legs slowly slip down the floor until I was sitting. I tilted my head up, staring at an exhausted Spencer before making grabby hands at him. He snorted at the childlike request, aggressively pulling at my wrists until I landed into his chest.  

“Alright birthday boy, just because you’re older doesn't mean you can get all strong on me,” I warned, nuzzling my heavy head onto his shoulder. A pleasant silence surrounded us, our bodies maintaining an equal balance as we leaned onto each other. On another note, it reminded me of Newton’s principle of force that Spencer explained to me a few months back. How Newton’s cradle, a simple office trinket, exemplified conservation of momentum and energy. In this fragment of space, it felt like that with Spencer—it always felt like that: a comfortable momentum.  

“Hey Spence?”  

The quiet continued to spread throughout the atmosphere.

“Spencer?” I pressed my chin against his chest, feeling his arms find their way to my lower back. He hummed in response, his eyelids resting at a closed position. “I’m sorry about that thing in the kitchen... I was just messing around.”

  He took a while to react before sighing and pressing a tired kiss to the side of my head; with that, I knew things were okay. “Oh! I didn’t give you your present yet.”  

I melted away from his arms, scurrying off to the couch. In an exaggerated reveal, I pulled a small parcel from beneath the cushions, glee filling my eyes as I watched the bow on top spring out. I extended my arms towards Spencer, eager to have him open it.  

He walked tentatively towards me, taking purposefully leisurely strides. At one point he began to act like he was in a slow-motion sequence, causing me to threaten the integrity of his present. With raised hands, he sat next to me on the couch and gently pried the gift from my hands. “What did you get me this time? Let me guess. From the size and shape of his package here,” he turned the box around in his hands, shaking it up, “and the sound to force ratio-”  

“Just open the damn thing, Spence.”

He smiled at my usual impatience, letting his fingers glide against the edge of the parcel. Finally, with gentle hands, he picked apart the wrapping paper, careful not to rip the heart sticker that held the presentation together. He gathered the bow in his palm, and gently pressed the sticky side of the accessory to my cheek.  

I cringed at the feeling, but that soon dissipated hearing the mollified chuckle escape Spencer’s mouth. With a determined huff, Spencer pulled the last pieces of wrapping paper from the box and was left with a frayed book in his palm.  

“The Parliment of Foweles...” he whispered; an unreadable expression crossed his features.  

I curled into my own body, anticipating some form of reaction. “I... I remember you told me the first time we really sat down and got to know each other that your mom used to read that to you when you were younger.” I picked at the stitches on the couch, a lump forming in my esophagus as my tongue swelled. “It’s first edition...” I smiled, insecurity beginning to conquer my excitement from before.  

“Sorry, if you don’t like it... I was just-”  

A pair of arms pulled me into a secure embrace while a tender hand came around to cup the back of my head. An inaudible expression of gratitude was lost in between babbles of endearment and soft caresses. Spencer pulled away with pools of adoration, he clutched the book in hand as he pulled me under his arm. He ran his thumb along the deckles that adorned the sides of the pages, his palm tenderly feeling the roughness of the old woven spine.

To open the book, he singled out a random page and lightly flicked a few pages to the side before I halted his movements completely. “Wait!” I requested. “I want you to read it after the case so we can do it together,” I sheepishly tucked a hair behind his ear, hiding the careful blush on my cheeks. “If that’s okay with you.”  

“Yeah...that’s fine with me,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto the soft curves of my face. I pulled my hand away, tugging my sleeve further down my arm. “Oh! That reminds me.” Spencer places the book behind him and headed over the coat rack next to the front door. Sliding his hands through various pockets, he finally pulled a small box from one of the compartments.  

He tentatively approached me, turning the object in hand. “I know it’s my birthday, but... I wanted to do something because you’ve made everything better in these past years,” he confessed, fidgeting as he came closer. “Being with my mother always felt like home, and I just... you became that for me, so thank you.”  

My fingers reached over to his open palm, approaching the velvet box as if it was fragile. I glazed over its general shape, turning it a few times between my hands. “Spencer...I don’t even know what to say.”  

“Well, you can start by opening it,” he smiled.  

I shook my head, gently prying the box open. Inside laid a beautiful heart-shaped necklace with words etched into the metal. Once I read the words, a heavy breath escaped my lungs, and my shoulders lost all tension. “Spencer...”

  “I thought that it would be easier to have the words of your soulmate above your heart rather than you tracing over your hip,” he professed. “I also know that even if you deny not having any connection to this soulmate thing, it often brings you comfort when needed.”  

My attention went to him the second he uttered those words. “How did you know,” I mumbled with an enamored chuckle.  

“Well, whenever we’re in the field, I could tell the times you get nervous or need reassurance by the way you subtly touch your hip.”  

“I thought staring was punishable by death,” I joked, referring to his argument earlier today.  

He brushed it off with a wide smile, combing his hands through his hair. “I know we have a hefty case tomorrow based on what Penelope showed us last briefing, so I hoped that this would make you feel better,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the arm of the couch.  

“Thank you, Spencer...really,” I wrapped my arms above my head, trying to attach the unlocked chain around my neck. “Can you...?”  

With gracious hands, he lifted the chain from my fingertips and wrapped it around my neck. The skin of his fingers would occasionally brush the back of my neck, sending euphoric chills down my spine. I felt myself squirm under his touch slightly, although it wasn’t enough to be obvious. Lifting my hair to the side with his wrist, he clasped the necklace together, letting the cold metal kiss the skin.  

I turned around, appreciating the trinket in my hands. I shook my head in disbelief, watching as some of the moonlight that seeped through the window reflected off the metal. “Thank you, again, Spencer.” I nodded, bringing him into a meaningful embrace. My head rested in the crook of his neck, an aroma of pine, vanilla, and old books surrounding us. “This really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.”  

He scoffed, gently wrapping his hands around the small of my back. “Everything pales in comparison to you.”  

-

October 29th

...

I twirled the metal heart in between my fingers as Hotch’s words failed to reach my ears. I would look up occasionally to see the pictures, but we’ve been dealing with an unsub who showed no mercy to anything morally reprehensible. I sighed, swinging my feet under me as I pretended to be enveloped by the case file in my other hand.  

“Since we’re dealing with a L.D.S.K-”  

“A long-distance serial killer,” Emily intercepted, nodding towards the team.  

“We’ll have SWAT patrol the surrounding rooftops. Emily and I will stay with the defense team here.” Hotch pointed to the house of the unsub’s target. “Morgan, Y/N, and Reid will go through the floors of the apartment building with the strike team—witnesses stated that he was located on the 5th floor, but we have to be ready for anything.”  

I looked over to Morgan with a determined expression. His face hardened at the words and his lips was pressed into a tight line. In my peripheral, I could see the way his veins would constrict against the skin as he clenched his fists.  

This case hit him particularly hard considering we couldn’t save the unsub’s last victim. It was a 4-year-old little girl, and we were misinformed about her possible location. By the time we got to her, she was faced down into a park well with a single bullet hole above her heart. I watched the slow diffusion of her blood, and how the water turned to a murky black. I couldn’t imagine Morgan’s guilt considering he was so sure of himself when reaching a breakthrough with the unsub’s whereabouts. The parents of the child would soon blame Morgan for his ignorance, spewing derogatory slurs in their distress.  

“We’ll get him Hotch,” Morgan assured, “This time, we’ll get him.”  

Spencer noticed the certitude in his voice, sharing a look with me to give extra attention to Morgan out in the field. I smiled at him, warmed at the concern that the genius had over his friend.  

“I’ll be working with local PD to hold a press conference to keep the public on the lookout,” JJ expressed, crossing her arms.

“Since...last time, we figured that unsub finds enjoyment in toying with us or singling us out. So, keep each other in check and make sure to report back in your earpieces every five minutes.” Hotch himself seemed perturbed by the unsub’s earlier actions considering he had his own toddler to deal with. “Penelope has sent the coordinates to everyone. Remember the profile, and don’t leave yourselves vulnerable. We’re dealing with an elusive unsub that won’t stop at nothing to satisfy himself,” Hotch spoke with a quiver in his voice.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and breathed heavily through my mouth. My hands began to drift to my hip but momentarily stopped as I remembered the chain around my neck. I slumped into the chair as Hotch dismissed the team, sending them out for their respective assignments.  

“You, okay?” I whipped around to the sound of JJ’s voice. She leaned against the doorframe with an expression full of concern. Looking behind her, she noticed Spencer noticeably pacing through the bullpen waiting for a specific someone. He attempted to disguise his eagerness by counting tiles on the floor or squares on the ceiling, but to JJ he was easily discernable.  

I let a dry laugh, shaking my head. “After what happened, I’m a bit worried—not about me—but Morgan and Spence.” I swiveled around in the office chair a few times until I landed in front of JJ.  

“You know you fidget the same way as Spence,” she pointed out, grinning at the similarity. I shook off the oncoming warmth that flooded the skin and looked elsewhere. “You’re right to worry about both of them though. But you know how stubborn and determined they are.” As she began to walk out, she left a lingering message that soothed my nerves. “Plus, Spencer may have that IQ of his, but we all know runs things between you all.”  

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always kept a watchful eye over the both of them—maybe Spencer a little more—but nonetheless, I deeply cared about both of them. It was relieving to know that Spencer’s circle of trust exponentially grew from Morgan to JJ to me. It symbolized the growth that Spencer was mostly oblivious to, but it meant more to me than I can explain, seeing how he opened himself up to happier possibilities.  

A sharp exhale left my lungs while my lips formed into a sly smirk. Without another minute to wait, I left the round table behind JJ, leaving Spencer to stop dawdling. “You ready genius?” I walked out into the hall, not sparing a glance at the figure trailing behind me.

“With you? Always.”  

-

“Nothing here,” a voice confirmed in my earpiece. My gun hung low in my hands while I tiptoed through the floor of the apartment building. “You know Y/N, if I knew that the unsub was going to the pick a building in the area we resided in, maybe I would’ve considered having the party at Rossi’s instead,” Spencer joked.  

I bit the smile growing on my lips, focusing on the assignment on hand.  

“Maybe after the case, instead of reading that book in our apartment we can go over to that small library/cafe we’ve been meaning to go to,” he continued to drone, forgetting about the connection of everyone’s channels.  

“Reid, if all you’re gonna do is flirt with Y/N, leave the damn channel,” Morgan warned. Hearing the worry in his tone, Spencer straightened up, coughing to cover up his soft apology. Being separated didn’t help the irrational thoughts that built up in the back of my conscience; I can’t even comprehend what’s probably going through Morgan’s head.  

“You good?” I mumbled into the com; my eyes straightforward while I advanced towards the hall. Morgan didn’t respond, an inaudible huff coming through the speakers.  

“I’m moving up to the top floor. Y/N and Reid, go back down to the basement and see if we missed anything,” Morgan broke the awkward silence with an austerity in his words. The silent hum that came afterwards was worse than earlier. I turned off my earpiece, sensing a conversation about to ensue between the two gentlemen.

The thickness in the atmosphere was similar to the air that surrounded me and Spencer when competing in recreational chess. Whenever I attempted to put his king in check, he would block the move by maneuvering another piece in front of it. This would lead to a game of cat and mouse until I would figure out that the entire time, Spencer had been deluding me into false security while checking my king piece. Ultimately, I would lose to Spencer. However, there were games where I’d outmaneuver him or win by dumb luck.  

I’d like to think that I developed some sort of intuition for his behavior from playing against him, but he’s deemed unpredictable every game. He was always sharp, eight steps ahead and aware of all possibilities. I guess that’s what make him an effective profiler, always thinking in the future.

I ran down the stairs, still armed, when Penelope’s voice ran through the earpiece. “Updates! Updates people.” The joy in her voice always relived me of the gloom that usually surrounded me in the field; hopefully she has the same effect on Morgan.  

“Hey, Pen.” An invisible grin was evident in my words, knowing she’d pick up on it.  

“Hello, my love, seems like at least one person is happy to see me,” she verbally jabbed at the lack of response from Spence and Morgan.  

Still no response.  

“Sorry, they’re working out their marriage at the moment,” I teased, hoping for the usual distasteful comment I usually get from Morgan.  

Still nothing.  

An unnerving feeling crept up the back of my neck. “Penelope, can you check if their coms are still workin—shit.” Before I could finish, a long buzz of static came through the speakers. The only comprehensible words that were picked up was the beginning of my name before cutting off.  

I bit my lip, pulling out the small piece of technology and tapping it a few times. “Come on... dammit.” After playing around with the earpiece, I grew frustrated with it and stuffed it into my pocket.  

I paced in the small landing between the stairs, thinking of a new gameplan. I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the split ends prick at the skin. I felt a mountain growing in at the bottom of my stomach, leaving my esophagus constricted without air. “What would Spencer do,” I mumbled to myself, gripping onto my necklace.  

“Spencer...Spencer...”  

Before I could finish the mantra, a shot rang out from above me, and the crashing off glass followed. In the split moment, my legs grew a mind of its own and sprinted to higher ground. Suddenly, the sweat perspiring off me turned cold, and my heartbeat slammed itself into my spinal cord as I ran. My feet forgot its exhaustion while my mind devoured every irrational thought, and combined it with adrenaline.  

The single thing that drove me over my limits was knowing that the person who fabricated and would shoo away these thoughts was somewhere I didn’t know I could get to in time.  

-

Spencer’s POV

I tiptoed into a vacant suite of the building, still antsy about the scolding I received from Morgan. The conversation after didn’t help considering it was all a reminder to be aware and focused on the task at hand. I knew Morgan was filled with the need for redemption despite the team forgiving him of his ignorance. So, I shook off the creeping feeling and abided by his instructions.  

Deciding to update Y/N and Morgan about my whereabouts, I spoke into the coms only to have static come out of it. I tried once again but failed to reach anyone. The room around me shrank as a sharp exhale left my lungs. I swallowed the buildup of saliva in the back of my throat, feeling uneasy about not knowing what’s to come.  

Seeing at the area was clear, I looked out of one of the windows. Initially I cringed at the accumulated dirt and grime in the glass panes, but that all dissipated when I spotted the quaint park that Y/N loved. No one else had any interest in the community lot, seeing as people would coin it—or what Y/N would tell me—the park of death. But to her, she saw the opposite as she always does.  

The light feeling of reminiscing my interactions with Y/N soothed the disconcerting atmosphere, keeping me grounded. Although the sentiment ended as soon as it started when I spotted one of the apartment walls was spray-painted with black letters.  

Zugzwang

A blaring shot rang out and glass shattered into the room. I ducked into the floor, shutting my eyes. My head spun as the boom impaired my hearing. The window was forcibly open, the shards resting beside me. Left disoriented, I groaned, only feeling the after wave of vibrations on the ground. However, I soon found out that the quake of the floor wasn’t from the initial shot, but the rapid clobbering of feet inching closer to the suite and a shadowy figure preceding it.  

Y/N emerged from the doorframe, panting. Eyes were laced in fear while they bore into my own. My stomach twisted into knots from previous events while I contemplated what had occurred. The presence of Y/N wasn’t even strong enough to relinquish the egging feeling crawling in my skin. I anticipated Morgan to appear, considering he was closer to the scene.

Where was he?

Another thing I didn’t anticipate, a second shot.  

“Spencer?”  

-

January 3rd

Three months after

My thoughts antagonized one another while I stared out into the world from the eerily quiet apartment. The living room was cold and empty despite the array of furniture scattered about and the broken picture frames lining the walls. The vapor rising from the cup of tea drifted into the air, vanishing into nonexistence. It’s funny how that could happen in a matter of milliseconds.  

The pain the lived inside the chambers of my heart was no match for the burning of skin I felt when holding onto the steaming cup. The only worthy adversary would be the rush of self-resentment that coursed through me when picking up the book. I deserved it though. I deserved the spikes through my stomach while my fingers trailed the deckled pages, reminding me of the first time I held the book, its previous owner present with me.

I would remember our time together.  

I would remember the promise shared between us.  

I would remember the bloodied handprint pressed against my chest.

Now all I had was the physical manifestation of what’s left: the necklace. As cruel as it was for me, I kept it in the book, using it as a bookmark while I lost myself into poems. After a while, the inked words lost their meaning to me, becoming an empty cacophony that encased the jewelry.

Every time I grasped the chain in my clutches, a numbed ache would make itself known at the pit of my stomach. It clawed at my intestines and made the entirety of my body system obsolete. With that, I was abandoned with the sinister hauntings of my own mind—a part of me that I was once praised for. 

 A genius. A prodigy. Hidden behind the real mess of a guilty man.  

I ignored the smashed chess board and pieces that laid still at my feet, concentrating on the snowflakes that littered the park across from the building. The grounds looked beautiful, covered in layers of pure white. I sipped at the tea once more letting my mind deteriorate with a sophisticated nonchalance. 

 What a tragedy it was to know my soulmate, especially right under the tip of my nose. What a cruel joke life had played.  

I wished I had more time.  

It was easier to let the guilt consume me rather than pondering on what I lost—who I lost. Had I lost myself too? Maybe, it didn’t matter. In some masochistic way, I enjoyed the guilt because it was a way to remember that at one point someone made for me existed. I used it to relive the moments I could never get back.  

All that remained was an empty shell of a man, staring out into a dull world, wondering how time took everything away from him.  

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @andreasworlsboring101 @ssareidbby @kyleetheeditor @fanofalltheficsx​ @jimilogy @lulwaxim @jhillio @m3ssytrash @haylaansmi @meowiemari @ashwarren32 @codyf3rnsupremecy @goldentournesol​ 

[hansolmates]

give me the night

banner done by the fabbbbulooouss emotional support bud @chwepen​

summary; minghao has long stopped clinging to the love you and him created years before. when he sees you however, new seeds are already sown.  paring; photographer!minghao x student!reader (f) genre/warnings; exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff bc this couple is so shy n’sensitive, feelings of longing, pining, casual alcohol consumption w/c; 1.2k prompt; “i’ll meet you halfway.” a/n; for the cwc’s valentine’s gram event! this is for you yunn @starboywoo​ i hope u have a wonderful lovable weekend enjoy!! 🖤 🖤 🖤 

He’s a sensitive soul. Junhui makes a point to always poke and prod at Minghao’s soft heart, calling him gummy and doughy and full of love. 

Malta’s pretty. It’s muted, but delightfully charming. It doesn’t have the obvious romantic appeal that Paris or Rome has, but it’s still beautiful. It’s obvious due to Minghao’s constant clicks of his phone, his starry eyed expression when he sees the strung up lights at the pier, and the bounce in his soles when he stumbles upon road after narrow road of clunky cobblestone paths. 

“She goes to school here, right?” 

Junhui is walking backwards, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. He’s smirking at Minghao, knowing how testy he gets whenever you’re brought up. It’ll only take one push for Junhui to stumble, Minghao muses. Then, he can go back to the townhouse they’ve rented and sketch, or watch television, anything other than drinking. 

Mingyu has been waiting, pregaming and trying his luck with the pretty girls seated at the table opposite him. 

It’s then Minghao chokes on his saliva and realizes that you’re seated in the very middle, unbeknownst to Mingyu’s apparent ogling. 

Junhui immediately swivels Mingyu to his attention, forces Minghao and a seat, and orders a round for them in the matter of a minute. Junhui has a mission tonight, and it’s to not warble around and carry a broken heart (or two) home. 

The tiny table you’re pressed up against is cramped to the brim, and you’re surrounded by a hearty group of friends. Your jewelry sparkles against the little tea candles in the centerpiece, cheering with a shot glass to some random thing a boy is shouting. The liquid spills across your bracelet, but you still drink eagerly. You’re beautiful, more beautiful than what the social media and his memory could remind him. 

You left your home country for this prestigious study abroad program in the beginning of college, evidently ending your love story with your highschool sweetheart. Minghao’s over it, he really is. If anything that’s lingering in his heart, it’s the memories of having so much fun, so much love between each other. You two are far different now, and neither of you would be able to go back to that fleeting youth. 

Honestly, Malta is one stop out of many for his spring break. He thought his two days here would be over in a wink, and he could move onto the other niche destinations Mingyu and Junhui planned.

Minghao underestimated the fact that Malta’s tiny, and you’re at the heart of it. 

Just as fast as you’re there though, you’re getting ready to leave. The night is still young, yet you stumble to your feet like you’ve been out all evening. Your friends tell you to get a cab, saying it isn’t safe to walk home alone. 

“I’m not walking home alone, a friend is here,” Minghao hears you say, and he wonders if someone’s waiting outside for you. Someone tall, handsome, potentially his replacement. It makes Minghao sink into his beverage, swallowing away his unwarranted jealousy. 

Yet you come to his table with confidence, holding out a hand to him. 

“Take me home?” you pose this as a question, yet the flicker in your eyes betrays your need for his immediate acceptance. 

Everyone’s looking at him, he thinks absently. He can hear your friends whispering and giggling to themselves, while Mingyu is audibly drooling next to him. Junhui is reaching for you, clawing across his lap to invite you for one more round before you head off. 

“Come for breakfast, Junnie,” you placate, tugging Minghao by the sleeve of his hoodie before he can catch his breath, “we should leave now,” you say, waving politely at Mingyu. You have no clue who he is because Minghao befriended him later in college, but from Minghao’s peripheral vision your eyes are pointed in minor affliction. He knows that look too well, like you have the urge to close his jaw and put him in his place. 

“Sure,” Minghao follows you out of the tiny bar, and he subconsciously inhales at the sight of the full moon and the hint of fresh air.

His steps slow once he makes it outside, the heat feeling like honey as he trudges half a step behind you. His eyes linger from your casual spring dress, to the kitten heels that buckle at your ankles. The cobblestone is uneven, but you walk through it like a seasoned exchange student. He doesn’t know where you’re going exactly, but wherever you end up he’ll follow. 

“You didn’t come over to say hi to me,” you say shyly, your hands fisting in your marigold clutch. 

He can’t help but smile at your sudden meekness, knowing that confrontation, especially one where there’s only two parties, makes you nervous. Especially so, considering you made such a grand gesture of attention and now that you’ve gotten it, you're overwhelmed. 

"You looked too pretty, I was intimidated," Minghao replies honestly, and his heart perks up hopefully at the heated flush that spreads across your face. 

The two of you talk into the night, throwing back and forth each other's new lives. Your muses have changed, your happiness is dependent on your dreams, all as it should be. 

Minghao thought he would run out of things to say, as he is the one who stayed home all these years. Yet, you ask eagerly about his studies, the amazing places he’s seeing and the work he’s proud of. You ask about the concrete city you can’t help but miss. He then asks about the limestone that encapsulates your world. The new kind of love that you’ve been craving, a love for yourself and the investments you’ve made in your successes. 

It’s different. It isn’t quick or to the point like your relationship once was. This one grows, a seed buried in the night sky. This one is a new relationship waiting to be tended. 

The walk home went fast. Even though you two stopped for gelato and admired the passing ships, the journey felt too short to Minghao. You live in a boarding house with other foriegn exchange students, a nondescript townhouse that’s warm and soft and oh-so perfect for you. 

"Thanks for taking me home," you murmur, in fear of your neighbors overhearing you, "even though I kinda didn't give you any choice in the matter." 

"Always," Minghao shakes his head, unable to think of a scenario in which he'd ever say no to you, "I'll always meet you halfway." 

He can’t bear to look into your eyes anymore. They still glow like before, a sparkle that reminds him of city lights and now, the lit-path down a cobblestone road. 

Before he can second guess the signs he turns to leave, but your figure curls around him like a warm blanket on a Sunday morning. Your nails curl into the soft cotton of his heathered hoodie, clutching him like he'll evaporate on the spot. Your cheek nuzzles fondly into his back, and he instinctively relaxes into your touch. 

"Stay the night," you request, already pulling him back into your room. 

As always, he can never say no to you. 

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Happy holidays, Emmy!!

For the ship ask game (Band of Brothers, please? you are a gem💎) ... my biggest passion is storytelling, through art, writing, and theater. I am definitely a cat person (though I also like dogs) and can't wait to adopt one once circumstances fall into place. I am also an introvert who feels emotions very strongly and wears her heart on her sleeve. I joke about my trauma to cope lol but all I really want is to tell somebody wholeheartedly about what I've been through while they hold me. And cuddles!! My love language is 10000% physical affection. Also I think I'm pretty good at gift-giving so that's a thing too. I don't get fired up all that easily but when I do it's a firestorm. My sleep schedule goes from 10 hours of sleep to 2 hours and it's fine anyway I'm so glad you opened up requests for this and I can't wait to see what you come up with!

💕💕

Omg I’m so glad to see you in my inbox @howunexpectedlyso ! Your blogs bring me such joy! I couldn’t wait to respond to your request but it also took me a while to brainstorm HCs because I see you with a lot of the Easy boys and I wanted to make sure I picked the most compatible one! Here you go! And Happy Holidays!!

I ship you with: George Luz!

What would we do w/o George Luz??

What would George Luz do w/o you?? ;)

You guys are perfect together and really light up each other's lives during the holidays

Like you, George is a natural storyteller

More so in the way of acting, though

You both audition at your community theatre for It’s A Wonderful Life

George pouts all week about not getting the main role, George Bailey

He says that he would’ve been perfect, after all, he is a George, too ;)

You get cast as Mary

You help eachother run lines

George is also your hype man if you ever get stage fright or start doubting your own acting abilities

During final bows, he’s beaming with pride when he sees you out there on the stage

After the final performance, George convinces you it’s a good idea to throw the cast party at your apartment

Though you both love the cast like family, your favorite part of the evening is when everybody leaves

You like it, as an introvert, because that means you get to recharge

George likes it because it gives him a chance to cuddle with you on the couch

It’s the one time the man with actually stfu

Like you, George is also a physically affectionate person

He knows exactly how to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and kiss your ear after whispering “I Love You”

You both fall asleep on the couch, party streamers still on the floor, watching your favorite christmas movie at 2am.

The last thing you remember hearing is George mimicking some stupid line from the movie.

George is more than happy to keep snuggling you until 10am

He basically is insulted if you or anyone suggests getting up before 9am

Even though he gets up sort of late, he still has a fun activity planned for the day

It is the week before Christmas after all…

Though groggy, he drives you both down the street to grab a coffee/tea

He then drives you both to the Humane Society.

You look over at him skeptically

“What?” He shrugs. “I just want to take a look inside.”

So you both go in and George asks the volunteers to see the cats.

Your heart immediately starts swelling. George knows how much you love cats.

The volunteers bring out a new litter of kittens.

One of them immediately catches your eye - an orange tabby.

George is like a little kid in a candy shop.

He’s on the floor playing with the kittens, making funny cat noises.

Your heart already belongs to the orange tabby, who hasn’t left your side since you met.

George can tell how smitten you are with the kitten.

“We’ll take that little guy!” George tells the volunteer, pointing to the kitten.

“What?!” You turn to George.

“Merry Christmas, sugar.” George smiles up at you.

He tells you how he remembers you telling him one night how much you’ve always wanted a cat, and now that you guys have moved in together, you can finally start raising one.

“Maybe next Christmas we can invest in a dog.” George winks at you sweetly, relishing your delight at your new Christmas gift.

Hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays!!

[21incognito]

When She Grows Up When my daughter was still such a little girl, just putting together words and walking, my heart melted every time I looked at her.  She was the spitting image of my wife, Marion; same golden hair, same eyes and smile, the way she held her head up when she looked us right in the eye. Karrin was small but a pistol from the very start and she went non-stop until she literally fell down, too tired to get up again. “No!  Not bedtime yet!” was her battle cry every night and I loved her for that.  No matter what Marion hoped, I could already see our daughter was a fighter, not a quiet little person ready to obey all the rules that might make life easier. Our daughter.  That little bundle of arms and legs with a cute little button nose. . .and a set of lungs like no other.  It felt perfect anyway, the sound of a child in our home.  Collin couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she grew.  I remember the night he gave her a stuffed animal, a soft, floppy German Shepherd she carried around for years, “My powese dog,” later named “Smokey” after an earnest conversation with the other toys in her room and, of course, Collin.  That poor dog had to be washed once a week because he went anywhere she did, including mud puddles and snow forts. In due course we gave Karrin little brothers and finally a little sister, but she was always special because she came first.  And she was quick to learn and would play on her own for hours but she always stopped when Collin came through the door and they spent time together.  Sometimes I found them in his study.  He’d be at his desk working on reports or case summaries or even cleaning his gun.  I’d long ago given up telling him not to do it with Karrin in the room even though it made me uneasy; Collins just smiled at me and had our daughter show me all the parts and then tell him in what order the pieces went back together.  She was 4 and I thought she’d grow out of it. When my daughter turned 5 and went to Catholic school, at her mother’s insistence, I wasn’t sure how things might turn out.  Karrie was such a determined little person I worried about the nuns trying to deal with her.  But she loved school and her teacher told us our daughter had no problems learning the rules.  It was how to APPLY the rules that caught Karrie’s attention.  She came home every day and tried to explain the whats and whys to her little brothers.  They weren’t very interested and my daughter looked them straight in the eye, set her stubborn little jaw and patiently went through the rules another time.  “Karrie,” Marion said in her best mother’s voice, “they’re not old enough to...”  “Mama, no!  Only Daddy calls me Karrie!!  Only Daddy.  I told you before.”  And it was true, I was the only one allowed to use that term of endearment.  I’d had to get up and leave the room to keep from laughing while Marion and our daughter settled the dispute.  God knows I loved them both so much. As she got older there were times when only Collin could do anything with Karrin.  Oh, she’d stay in the kitchen and help me make cookies or set up tea parties to keep her brothers busy while I fixed dinner.  I wondered if she paid any attention to cooking or baking, things my own mother passed on to me; Collin’s mother always assured me Karrin took in everything around her.  And her grandmother seemed to know when Karrin and I needed a break from each other and she’d take Karrin to her house for a while.  The boys liked going as well, but it was special time for Karrin.  I always believed she tried out her softer side when she went with her grandmother and was somewhere we couldn’t see her.  The boys could be such a handful sometimes that I started to look forward to the offers to let Karrin work off some energy by staying over.  She always came home with a smile on her face, some little secret she wouldn’t share.  And occasionally a kitten hidden in her bag. When Karrie was about 9, my work as a Black Cat started to send me to some dark places.  It was obvious to some of us on the force that things weren’t quite “normal” anymore.  Brutal robberies, murders with odd twists, attacks we couldn’t explain with the usual language.  Bit by bit, we found ourselves in situations that left us uneasy.  I tried not to carry that home with me but cases started piling into one another.  And then, one night, I ran into someone/something that shook me to my core.  I knew this “being” wasn’t human, not completely, but she started mentioning my firstborn child and things to come that she’d have to be ready for.  My Karrie, 10 years old, should NEVER need to face those kinds of things but I didn’t know how to keep her safe. I bottled things up, then I started taking a bottle of whiskey into my study when I was home.  And I started to see my daughter in a different light.  She still liked spending time in my study but we didn’t talk the way we used to.  She got quiet, so quiet that sometimes I forgot she was in the room and that was my mistake.  I had a bad habit of talking to myself about the cases we worked on shift and Karrie heard some of it.  Marion walked in on that one night; after that she didn’t let our daughter spend so much time with me.  My mother tried to talk with me about the situation but I couldn’t do it.  My mother was a smart, generous and loving person but she was made of steel and she warned me that I needed to get things right with my family before I hurt every single one in it.  And Karrie was at the top of that list.  She said she and Marion would always be there for the kids but Karrin was modeling herself after me and I needed to recognize what that meant. “Karrin, please go get your brother off the monkey bars.”  “Tell your youngest brother to stop taking the ball away from his older brother.”  “I wish I could take you to the playground but right now the baby needs changing and a nap.  We’ll go later.”  I must have repeated those lines hundreds of times.  Karrin always gave me ‘that look” just like her father, then shook her head and went to do as I’d asked.   The school thought she was a great student but her report card always mentioned some issues with “attitude” and her never ending string of questions.  Karrin didn’t mind being told WHAT to do IF you told her why.  “How” wasn’t always necessary because she was an inventive little person.  Sports seemed to help keep her focused but unless she picked the sport you could be wasting time and money.  She’d hated ballet lessons with undisguised loathing that even encouragement from Collin’s mother didn’t change.  The instructor and I bribed my daughter to stay in her class by letting her take gymnastics.  Collin’s mother jokingly mentioned fencing to Karrin and to no one’s surprise she’d taken to it like a duck to water.  That poor instructor spent half his time telling her not to be so aggressive but he wasted his breath.  She’d always liked sticks and “combat” and spent hours in the back yard with her brothers, all of them merrily knocking away at each other.  I finally took a picture of them really working at it to her 5th grade teacher because he was so concerned about the bruises all over her arms.  And then there was the incident with a miniature cap pistol, a Christmas gift from her grandmother.  I worried it wasn’t appropriate for a girl her age to play with it so much, and then one evening while she and the boys played cops and robbers her brothers yelled she was cheating.  “Karrin, what are you doing?  The boys said. . ”  Karrin just shook her head, looked straight at me and said, as she pulled the cap pistol out of her sock:  “It’s not cheating, Mom, it’s a hold-out gun.”  That’s when I seriously started explaining to Collin he really had to think about what he talked about when he and his daughter spent time together.  I knew his partner and some of the other Black Cats adored Karrin but they’d all sworn not to talk to her about their work.  Collin had sons to follow in his footsteps.  I so hoped Karrin would follow in mine.

[kazuharem]

“The Most Important Person” ↠ Lucien x MC [SMUT]

AO3 Link: Here

Pairing: Lucien x MC (Female)

Warnings: overstimulation, unprotected s&x, multiple orgasms, jealous!Lucien

Description: Jealous Lucien smut from “True Love Date.” That’s it

Summary: Lucien shows her just exactly who the most important person to him was.

Word Count: 4,013

Author’s Note: This is my entry for Day 6 of Kinktober. I used this Kinktober 2020 Prompt

Day 6: Free Use

Also, requested by Icy~ ^-^ Inspired by this little section from my "Partners in Pleasure" fic: The Lucien who had slammed her into the wall with a dangerous “Tell me,” hissed angrily through clenched teeth when she was asked about the most important person in her life. The Lucien who had tortured her so ardently that very night as he grit out a “You don’t want to make me jealous again, kitten,” before thoroughly ravaging her.

I'm pretty sure every Lucien stan who is a writer have written some version of this. This is my take. Also, I've taken "overstimulation" as in "fucking brainless" which also translates to "too many damn orgasms" in my book. Enjoy!

[DISCLAIMER] As always, the characters, art, music do not belong to me. The only thing I own is the plot. Lines that are taken directly from the "True Love Date" will have * in front of the text.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰ 

“If you don't mind, I'll walk that line Stuck on the bridge between us Gray areas and expectations But I'm not the one if we're honest But I wanna sleep next to you And I wanna come home to you I wanna hold hands with you I wanna be close to you”

Troye Sivan – “Talk Me Down”

*“So, Professor Lucien, is there anyone you’re crushing on here?” Kiki asks Lucien amidst boisterous cheering.

Lucien chuckles as he looks over at the girl, whose cheeks were blazing scarlet. “Yes,” the answer slips easily and naturally out of his mouth.

She ducks her head then, trying to tug her hand free from Lucien’s grasp, but he holds on tight. The crowd of her coworkers cheer and spin the bottle again. The neck of the bottle comes to a stop in front of Lucien again and everyone burst into loud exclamations once more.

“Who is it? Who?” Everyone clamors around Lucien in excitement, trying to force the answer from his lips.

He gazes back at her and her eyes skips from him, staring pointedly at the wall behind him. Lucien smiles amusedly and downs the shots, much to everyone’s disappointment. A wave of warmth spreads from his throat, blossoming outward from his chest.

Her coworkers continue to play until the bottle stops in front of her. “Finally, it’s the boss’s turn!” Kiki grins widely as the mood suddenly changes, everyone leaning forward in anticipation.

“Tell us who is the most important to you and why,” Willow announces after a dramatic pause. She winks at Kiki and adds, “Be specific.”

Lucien could hardly admit to himself how eagerly he awaits her response, stiffening up and holding his breath.

She sighs and chances a peek at Lucien, cheeks and ears turning a rosy shade of pink as she prepares herself. *“Because I got to know this someone…” she begins shyly, blushing harder. “He…showed me a brand new world. He’s gentle, but not pretentious. A mystery, but also clear as day.” She starts slowly, but her voice begins to pick up enthusiasm as she goes on. “He can see all of my thoughts and he teaches me the ways of the world.”

Lucien’s hand tightens on his glass as he desperately tries to swallow the prickly feelings that were threatening to engulf him. For some reason, he didn’t like where this is going. There was a thought that nagged at him in the back of his mind. He had seen her chatting cheerfully with that officer…that-Gavin. Had heard her burst into excited laughter when she was on the phone with Kiro. Had witnessed that damn CEO, Victor, picking her up in his stupidly expensive sports car. Could she be talking about any one of them?

She leans forward unknowingly, as she continues, *“When I meet setback, he’d guide me with patience and understanding.” Her voice has a tender lilt to it.

Lucien savagely downs the contents of his glass and sets it down before he could crush it. The warming effects of the alcohol disappears and all he could feel is the thudding of his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The only thought that rages through his mind is who, who, who?

*“He is…very important to me,” she concludes softly with a small sigh, a rare smile breaking through her features.

Her coworkers collectively release their breaths.

*“That was visceral! I bet the person isn’t here or else Boss wouldn’t have said all that!” Someone chimes teasingly.

“Yeah! You know how shy Boss is!” Another person laughs noisily.

The comments grate at Lucien’s ears and he grinds his jaw. A different kind of warmth, one that is white hot, courses through his veins.

“I really want to know who it is!” Kiki wonders aloud.

Lucien silently takes another shot, trying to quell the rage that was slowly building inside him. His vision starts to blur, but he pays it no mind.

She laughs quietly and shakes her head. “Let’s just continue the game,” she hastily directs their attention back to the bottle on the table.

Coming here tonight…was a bad idea, a thought pops up unbidden. Lucien tosses back another shot, missing the worried glance she throws in his direction.

The party continues, but Lucien’s mood worsens, along with the drunkenness of the crowd.

At some point, she slips to the bathroom and when Lucien couldn’t take the burning question any longer, he says some stupid excuse to her coworkers and leaves to go find her. The question bores a hole in Lucien’s mind as he stalks silently along the dimly lit hallway.

Who is this important person?

His fists clench and the scowl on his face deepens. The alcohol he had drunk earlier blurs all thought, all reason.

Remember your purpose, Ares. A voice whispers in his mind, but Lucien shoves it aside. He could care less about his purpose at this moment.

A sudden movement catches his eye and before any reasonable thought occurs, he’s pushing the girl against the wall, his hand grabbing her wrist.

*“What are you doi-“

*“That person who’s most important to you…Who is he? Tell me,” his mouth is moving before his brain registers the words. A look of confusion spreads across her face and Lucien presses harder against her. “Tell me!” Nothing but fiery rage runs through his entire body.

Her expression softens, “It’s you…” she says, but Lucien presses harder against her, only hearing a soft buzzing. “Lucien,” she calls his name and her words finally gets through the buzzing in his ears. “It’s you I was talking about,” she murmurs, smiling. “You’re very important to me…” Stunned, Lucien loosens his grip on her as he backs away. He hears his heartbeat thudding in his ears, a roaring that reverberates throughout him and she continues. “Everything I said was meant for you to hear but you misunderstood…”

The relief flooding through him was instantaneous and he nearly stumbles. There is nothing in his eyes except for the sight of her smiling face. “I’m sorry…did I hurt you?” Lucien asks as he drops her wrist.

“A little…but I’m okay,” She smiles, and Lucien rubs her wrist gently.

“I’m…sorry,” Lucien pulls her into his arms as he breathes a sigh of relief into her hair. It should’ve unnerved him with how relieved he felt, but Lucien couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Shall we go?” She asks, voice muffled into his chest, “I think I’ve had enough.”

He agrees readily and ignores the whispers of “Stupid. You’re a fool, Ares.”

The girl in his arms robs all reasonable thought, but Lucien thinks to himself that he prefers it that way as she slips her hand into his. His only colors in the world, he would follow her blindly wherever she goes.

They say goodbyes to her coworkers and Lucien fights the urge to claim when he sees a male coworker smiling at her. Kim, Lucien remembers.

The two of them chat a little too long for Lucien’s liking, and he walks up to the pair, offering the singer a tight smile. “Shall we go?” He asks the girl, his hand naturally finding purchase on her shoulder.

She nods cheerfully as she waves goodbye at Kim and allows herself  to be led away by Lucien. Lucien clenches the hand not holding hers.

Fool, a voice creeps up in the back of his mind again, but Lucien ignores it.

Lucien is silent in the cab ride home and he can feel her sneaking glances at him, questions as clear as day written on her face.

He could sense her reluctance to part as she squares her shoulders, physically preparing herself to say goodbye when they reach their respective doors. Gently, he places his hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing a soothing circle as he maneuvers her to face him. “Come inside for some tea to sober up. You’ve drank a lot tonight.” Her eyes instantly light up and Lucien’s mouth curls up in an answering smile. He lets go of her shoulder to unlock his door. She follows him inside eagerly.

No sooner did the door close behind her, Lucien is tugging her into his arms. “Lucien, wha-mmph!” Her question is muffled by the sudden press of Lucien’s lips. “Lucien!” She gasps against his lips.

“Shh,” Lucien murmurs, taking her lower lip and biting down gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw you today.” The sudden confession renders her speechless, but she accepts his kiss, earning a pleased sound from Lucien. She tastes the sweetness of the wine he drank earlier, and a heady feeling fills her veins, as if she could get drunk on his lips alone. He kisses her slow and sweet, pulling her snug against his chest. “I’ve missed you, my little butterfly,” The hushed whisper floats between the languid presses of their lips.

“Lucien…” her arms automatically snake around his neck, pulling him closer to her. The tantalizing way she whispers his name sends heat rushing through Lucien’s body. “I’ve…missed you…too.”

Her admission makes him pause. Pulling away slightly, he peers into her beautiful eyes and swallows hard when he sees nothing but the reflection of himself. Her eyes had only him. Lucien tries to push down the prickly feelings he had been feeling throughout the entire night, but to no avail. He wanted to claim her, to make her his, so that she wouldn’t ever look at another man. “Butterfly…” he lets out a breath, the small puff of air hits her lips and she shivers. “Won’t you give yourself to me tonight?”

She gazes upwards at him, and Lucien knows he’s hopelessly and irrevocably fallen into her trap.

So much for the feeble attempt to stay away.

“Yes…” her voice is quiet, but Lucien hears it all the same. He tucks a finger under her chin and leans closer, their breaths mingling.

“Then would it be okay for me to have you however I like?” His words ghost over her lips and he could see her lips tremble from the sensation.

Her cheeks flush and Lucien’s eyes were dark. The unmistakable hunger swimming in his irises makes her swallow. “Have me…Lucien…”

With that invitation, Lucien surges forward, slotting his lips against hers. His tongue prods the seam of her lips, asking for permission. When he was granted, his tongue enters to taste her mouth as he slips a leg between her thighs, trapping her against the door. “Will you give all of you to me?” Lucien asks, fingers caressing her face.

She nods breathlessly, “Yes…I’m all yours...”

It was like a switch had flipped. Lucien grinds his leg against her as he presses a hungry kiss against her open mouth. She gasps at the friction and Lucien slips a hand under her blouse, teasing and tracing tantalizing circles on the heated skin. “That’s good to hear, kitten,” he growls against the shell of her ear before licking at her lobe, “Because you sure didn’t act that way earlier.” His lips trace blazing kisses along the span of her neck and his hand ducks under her skirt. “You’re already so wet,” he whispers silkily. “Naughty girl, don’t you know what I’m about to do to you?” He curls his finger into her as she arches against him with a whimper.

“Lu-Lucien,” she stammers as her knees buckle. She holds onto Lucien’s shoulders for dear life.

“Shh,” Lucien shushes her by laying the slick finger he had just buried inside her against her lips. “Look how drenched you are for me.” And only me, he adds silently as he dives back to attack her mouth, picking her up when he did so. He maneuvers them expertly into his bedroom, setting her down with care on the bed and undresses her reverently. Lucien shrugs off his turtleneck and takes a moment to admire the sight of her naked body, a stark contrast against the black sheets. “Look at you,” he sighs as he settles between her legs. “Look at how perfect you are.” Her entire body flushes the prettiest shade of pink and she averts her eyes. “Don’t hide from me,” Lucien chides as he kisses a trail up her thigh, across her stomach, between the valley of her breasts, up, up, and up until he comes to a stop in front of her lips. She sucks in a shaky breath and holds it as he watches her, violet eyes nearly black. “Do you trust me?” His question is electrifying, causing the blood in her veins to heat up. She nods slowly.

Much too trusting, Lucien thinks, if only she knew…

He pushes these thoughts away and presses a quick kiss against her lips before undoing his belt. Before she could ask what he’s doing, she feels warm leather wrap around her wrists. “Lucien…” Her hands are bound with his belt and he pulls her arms over her head.

“I’ll make you feel good, kitten,” he promises as he trails fiery kisses across her collarbone. “Like no one else ever did,” his words are muffled by her skin. He presses open-mouthed kisses on her chest, and she inhales. Lucien smiles as he slowly takes one of her breasts into his mouth, tongue running circles around the nipple. He makes a noise of approval when it receives sufficient stimulation. Lucien descends upon her other breast and she moans breathily. “You sound so nice,” he murmurs, voice muffled by her breast as he teases the sensitive skin, and it pebbles under his touch. He moves downward, tongue washing a lazy stripe across her belly and she shudders. “I’ve thought about this all night,” Lucien whispers when he reaches her inner thighs. “Actually I’ve thought about this for many nights. But particularly tonight,” he laps close to her heat and her breaths hitch. “I’ve thought about the way you would taste; how would you look when you’re in the throes of pleasure, pleasure that I have given you.” He doesn’t give her time to react to his words before he buries his head between her legs

“Lucien!” The sudden movement makes her jerk in surprise, but the belt prevents her from releasing her arms. Lucien holds her down as he pushes his tongue into her, and she moans helplessly.

“You taste absolutely divine, kitten,” his low voice is electrifying and sends sparks throughout her entire body. “Just like the way I imagined.”

She bucks into his mouth and he growls approvingly, fingers digging into her hips. His tongue delves faster, and her moans get steadily louder. “Lu-please, please.” She’s begging and Lucien doesn’t hesitate to suck at her swollen clit with relish.

Lucien works his tongue sinfully and she’s positively keening, “I need you to come into my mouth, kitten,” he says as her thighs begin to shake, squeezing his head. “Come on.”

He nips at her clit and all of a sudden, she’s coming hard, Lucien’s name spilling out in a broken cry from her lips. Lucien licks her quivering slit obscenely as she turns into a trembling mess.

“Beautiful,” Lucien breathes. He doesn’t give her time to relax before he’s sliding two tapered fingers into her wet folds, tongue lapping lazily at her sensitive nub.

“Lucien-ah!” She arches off the bed as he furiously pumps his fingers in and out of her. Her wrists strain against their bindings only to struggle helplessly with nowhere to go.

“I have to say, this is better than my imagination,” Lucien’s voice is deep, seductive, and lazy even.

“Lucien!” She whimpers and her walls clench on his fingers.

“You want to come?” Lucien tongues her clit, “Then come for me, beautiful girl.”

As if his command was a spell, Lucien watches, enraptured as she falls apart again, her fluttering walls clenching and unclenching his fingers. Her eyes rolling back in pleasure, her body arches only to fall back down onto the sheets. Lucien’s name is the only thing on her lips as she pants, dazed and quivering.

He quickly sheds his pants and crawls back to her, taking the incoherent girl in his arms. “You’re perfect,” he whispers before flipping her onto her stomach. “You’re perfect in every way.” He cages her in with his body and presses soft kisses along her shoulders. “Beautiful. I am forever awed by you,” He punctuates every word with a kiss.

She feels his throbbing length at her backside, and she whimpers, “Lu-Lucien…”

“Tell me you want me, kitten, tell me you want only me.” Lucien whispers into her as he hooks an arm under her stomach and holds her upright against him.

“I…want only you,” she gasps, hips unconsciously grinding against his cock and Lucien hisses.

“Good,” Lucien sounds pleased, “You don’t want to make me jealous again, kitten.”

That was the warning she receives before Lucien sheathes himself fully in her wet folds and she moans lowly, arching into Lucien’s chest.

“God…” Lucien bites back a curse as he begins to move, “You feel so good.”

She whimpers at the praise, hips struggling to keep pace with Lucien’s thrusts. “Lucien…Lucien…”

“Let it out, kitten,” Lucien growls into her ear as his other hand reaches between her legs, “Let me know who’s making you feel this good, who’s fucking you like this.” Every savage roll of his hips accompanies every word.

“Lucien!” She cries out, knowing that every thrust brings her closer to destruction.

“That’s right,” He hisses as he laps at her pressure point, “Only I can make you feel this good.”

The girl is sobbing and nodding deliriously as Lucien rams into her. “Yes-yes… only you… Lucien…” She’s chanting incoherently. “Please, please,” she doesn’t even know what she is begging for at this point.

Lucien pinches her swollen nub and suddenly the coil in her stomach springs free. She’s crying as she comes, her orgasm ripping through her body in pure pleasure. She falls against Lucien’s chest, the only thing keeping her upright was Lucien’s arm around her waist. “Beautiful,” Lucien whispers as he sits back, taking her with him. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, undone because of me.” He leans back and spins the boneless girl to face him. “You’re absolutely perfect, beautiful butterfly,” He murmurs reverently. “You’re mine. Mine alone.”

She only nods as her chest heaves. “Y-yours…” she chokes out.

Lucien rearranges her legs, so she was straddling him and pulls her tied hands to rest on his shoulders. Without warning, he grabs her hips and slips his cock within her folds again. A sharp cry escapes from her as he brings her hips down on his.

“Lucien… please,” she’s moaning as he repeatedly thrusts upward into her, fucking hiccupping sobs from her.

 “Come for me, kitten,” he growls as he holds her limp body against his chest. She’s too far gone to respond and shakes her head weakly as her body trembles from Lucien’s merciless onslaught. “You can do it,” he grits out, “Come for me. Only me.”

“Lu…” she chokes out, unable to form complete words. “Please,” The plea falls on deaf ears as Lucien relentlessly impales her on his cock. “I can’t…” Her words end with a broken sob.

“You can,” Lucien hisses as she clenches deliciously around his cock. “You’re doing so well, taking my cock like this…” He whispers praises as he continues to abuse her oversensitive bundle of nerves. “Won’t you come for me, butterfly? I want to feel you coming on my cock.” Lucien’s fond voice belies the filthy words.

“Lucien…Lucien…” she babbles his name in incomprehensible moans, head lolling to the side. Lucien follows her head and captures her gasping mouth in a heated kiss.

“Come for me, butterfly. Come. For. Me.”

And suddenly her body seizes before she trembles violently, the full force of her orgasm tipping her into Lucien’s chest as she twitches from the sheer pleasure coursing through her body. Lucien languidly fucks her through her orgasm as he presses kisses into her temple. Gasping, she struggles for breath, utterly boneless.

“You did such a good job,” Lucien groans into her hair as his hips slowly comes to a stop. He sits up and gently flips them so she’s on her back. Lucien removes the belt binding her wrists together. “You…are so beautiful…” he whispers as he leans down to press his lips everywhere he can reach. Lucien cups her face carefully, as if afraid she’d break, his thumbs swiping across her tearstained cheeks. “You are entirely perfect…So kind…So caring…You leave me in absolute awe.” The praises rain down like his kisses.

Shakily, she opens her eyes as Lucien’s words register themselves slowly in her dazed mind. He watches her, a look of unmistakable tenderness is on his face. “Lu…Lucien…” she pants as she reaches her freed wrists towards him. He leans in closer so she can wrap her arms around his neck.

“Do you know why I was away for all these weeks?” Lucien murmurs as she tries to kiss him sloppily. She mouths aimlessly at his chin, his neck and Lucien continues. “It was because I was scared and overwhelmed of my feelings for you…”

The hushed confession bade her pause, her eyes widening. “Lucien…” she whispers shakily and raises a hand to cup his face.

Lucien nuzzles into her touch, pressing soft kisses to her fingertips. “I’m…not a good man,” he says haltingly, and she opens her mouth to object, but Lucien shakes his head at her. “I’ve never pretended to be a good man in the first place…I didn’t have…good intentions….I don’t deserve you…”

“Stop,” she says, and Lucien closes his eyes, sighing. “Lucien. Stop.”

“You’re much too trusting,” Lucien murmurs and there is a touch of self-deprecation.

“Don’t say that again,” she implores, “You know how I feel about you. You know I made my choice.”

There is a light chuckle as Lucien opens his eyes again and she is floored by the infinite amount of love that pools in those violet irises. “You didn’t let me finish,” Lucien smiles, reaching up to caress her hair. “I may not be a good man, but what I feel for you…is absolutely sincere. That is something you can count on.” He says those words with finality, leaving no room for argument.

“Lucien…” she whispers and her eyes are teary again. He presses his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent.

“I’m sorry I got carried away…The thought of someone else having you…the thought of you looking at someone else…” Lucien’s voice drops off apologetically.

It’s her turn to shake her head as she embraces him tighter. “Lucien…I’m yours…I’m all yours…”

Lucien’s voice is hoarse with emotion as he speaks, pressing her into the mattress gently, “Then allow me to have you, to love you…”

“Absolutely,” She whispers against his lips and he begins to move, their fingers interlacing with each other as he sets a slow pace.

With every thrust he drives into her, she feels the amount of Lucien’s love for her. With every kiss he gasps against her lips, she knows that the kisses were cementing Lucien’s love, sealing his love deep within every inch of her, a secret branding that only the two of them know.

She comes first with Lucien’s name leaving her lips and she holds onto Lucien as he pants. His hips stutter to a stop as he gasps her name, spilling heat deep within her.

“I love you…I love you…” She murmurs when Lucien slumps forward into her, panting into her neck.

He shakily reaches for her as he rolls onto his back, taking a moment to catch his breath. And when he speaks, his voice is full of raw and pure emotion.

“I know I don’t deserve you…I’m not going to be any greedier and ask for forever, but…can I trouble you to stay with me at least a little longer?”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

For more of my work: 📖

[seasonsofeverlark]

you & I (just meant to be)

Author: @rosegardeninwinter​

Prompt: This silly, silly ditty was inspired by two (count ‘em! two!) lovely prompts which are as follows “Peeta can’t stop staring at Katniss in her costume :0” and “Everlark meeting at a fancy dress party dressed as a ‘matching’ pair, although they don’t each other - maybe a famous couple but who don’t need the other … Joker and Harley Quinn, Batman and Robin or my favorite: Anna and Elsa from Frozen … Peeta would make a wonderful Anna” - I thought these two went well together, and took a couple of creative liberties to make them jive. Hope you lovelies like! [submitted by @deardiaryithinkiamaghost​ and @wendywobbles​]

Rating: T, for implied Everlark shenanigans 

Author’s Note: Thank you to my dear @archersandsunsets​ for her second pair of eyes on this one and to all the lovely moderators and coordinators of @seasonsofeverlark​, the true MVPs. It’s been a busy month, so I apologize for any incoherence. Sometimes, the heart just wants goofy modern AU fluff. Alrighty, Chatty Cathy is done … enjoy! 

____________

“Katniss, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Prim exclaims, though it sounds pretty pathetic with her congested, pinked nose. “You make the perfect ice queen!” 

“I don’t think that’s usually a compliment,” Katniss says dourly, plopping down on the couch where her sister is situated with several fuzzy blankets, a box of tissues, and a large bowl of ice cream. She can’t taste it very well, but it’s the spirit of the thing that counts. Prim is in denial. 

“I wish I could go,” she whines, holding the “o” in a long, dramatic note. 

“I wish I could stay,” Katniss shoots back, holding the “ay” just as long. 

“No you don’t,” Prim shoos. “You love our friends.” 

“I do,” Katniss sighs, plucking at the silver sequined sleeves of her—well, Prim’s—Elsa costume. It’s too long on Katniss, with her sister’s good half inch on her, but it’s all they’ve got. Her original plan was to pull the classic black top and pants plus cat ears, but when it became apparent Prim wasn’t budging from the couch this Halloween, the real snowy blonde princess of the family had insisted Katniss take her outfit. 

“You can’t show up to Finnick’s in a slapdash, last second costume, Katniss,” she’d said. “The man lives for Halloween. Don’t insult his extravagance with plastic headbands and tails.” 

“I do love our friends, but … I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m tired.”

“Just half an hour,” Prim says. “Snag me some candy, make some pleasantries” — “okay, Jane Bennet” —  “and then come home. At least one of us needs to show up. Just pretend to have a social life for thirty minutes, okay? For me.” 

Katniss rolls her eyes as she gets up from the couch in a twinkling of blue overlay and snowflake hair pins in her braid. She does a quick once over of her shadowy makeup in the hallway mirror as she grabs her car keys. “What do you want?” 

“Chocolate. Anything with chocolate and peanut butter. I’ll save it for when I can experience taste again,” Prim calls back. “Oh, and if Delly’s cousin is there, all of the cupcakes he brought.”

“Mmkay. All the chocolate and cupcakes, coming right up,” Katniss says with a resigned smile. On her way out, she clicks on her phone. It’s just now eight. She resolves to be firmly ensconced in bed by nine at the latest. She gives her sister a wave, keys jangling. “I’ll be back. Soon.” 

At ten thirty, Prim looks up from her Harry Potter induced doze to find she’s received a text from her sister. 

Staying a little later. Fifteen minutes maybe. Have the treats.  

Prim checks the time stamp. The text was sent forty five minutes ago. This might be cause for alarm were it not for the text underneath Katniss’s, from Finnick. It’s a photo, taken in front of a makeshift photo op with purple and silver and orange streamers in the background and cutesy little bat and pumpkin and vampire fang cardboard props for people to hold up. It’s captioned “You can’t marry a man you just met!” 

Prim brings her hand to her mouth to catch a laugh before it turns into a cough. Her sister, Elsa costume sparkling in the flash, is pretending to shake her finger disapprovingly at her “Anna” counterpart. The laugh breaks free this time. Prim grabs for her tepid tea to soothe her throat as she cracks up over the really incredible image of Peeta Mellark, Delly Cartwright’s stocky older cousin, in a red braided wig, and strikingly accurate green rosemaled gown, sitting quite comfortably, if amusingly, over his athletic build. He’s pretending to gripe back at Katniss about why exactly he can marry Hans of the Southern Isles. Their mock scowls barely contain smiles. 

Prim quickly fires a text back to Finnick: How??? Did that happen??? 

Finnick’s text comes through a second later: The Lord works in mysterious ways! Idk!

Okay but like?? Yes??

I know!!!!

Some people are worth melting for???? 

Her cold never bothered him anyway? *finger guns*

Omg. 

Katniss arrives back at the house at five to midnight, and Prim pretends to be asleep, watching with one eye cracked half open as her sister unstraps her silver heels and dumps them by the front door, drops her keys into the bowl. Sets down a full bag of what Prim can only guess are cupcakes and sweets. 

She’s humming under her breath. It sounds like the chorus of “Love is an Open Door.” Prim wonders if it’s possible that her folk and indie music loving sister actually listened to a Disney album on the way home. Katniss unbraids her hair and shakes it loose, dropping the pins on the side table as she sinks into the squashy chair kitty-corner to Prim’s couch. She curls up, knees to chest, making her look like some sort of ice mermaid as she takes out her phone and taps something on it, still humming. Prim watches her chew her cheek pensively, as if deciding to send the text. She takes a deep breath and taps one final time on the screen, then drums her phone nervously against her lips for a moment. Prim’s nerves are firing with anticipation. 

They wait a silent minute. Two. Three. Three and a half — 

Katniss’s screen lights up again and she flips the phone up to stare at the reply. Her whole face softens. Eyes, brow, edges of her mouth. Katniss bites her lip and closes her eyes, letting her head fall back onto the chair cushion with a contented sigh. “‘You know what’s crazy?’” she sing-songs in a mumble under her breath. “‘We finish each other’s sandwiches … I’ve never met someone who thinks so much like …” She yawns. “Me.” 

“You know,” Prim says, and Katniss shrieks, sending her phone flying to the carpet, “Peeta Mellark strikes me more as a Kristoff than a Hans.” 

“Prim!” Katniss yelps, going red. “Wha — what? What do you mean?” 

“So we’re done with stupid plastic cat ears for Halloween then I take it?”

[the very next Halloween] 

“Whoa. Okay.” Peeta sits up from the pile of cushions at the head of their bed, eyes wide and staring in approval, pupils gone dark. “Katniss Everdeen in cat ears is not something I knew I needed until this moment.” 

“Oh sure,” Katniss laughs. “Because it’s definitely the cat ears that are doing it for you. Not these.” She hoists one stockinged leg up onto the bed like a mountain climber posing for a magazine. 

“Well, those are certainly part of the appeal,” he teases, reaching for her leg, running his hands up and down the silk tights. “As is this lovely number.” He toys with the hem of her dress, a strapless black velvet thing that falls just above her knee. “Where’s this from?”

“Jo,” Katniss sighs. “She says if I’m going to be a cat, I need to be a Gretchen Wieners level cat.” 

“For whose benefit, I wonder?” Peeta muses, cheek nuzzling gently at her lower thigh. 

“You wonder?” Katniss laughs, taking her leg away and flopping onto the bed. She glances over at him, eyes sly and somehow soft at once. “I don’t.” 

“I can’t help thinking,” he muses. “that this is something of a counterproductive plan on Jo’s part. Because now, I have a sudden and distinct interest in staying in tonight.” 

“Oh?” Katniss raises a come hither eyebrow and pushes up on her elbows to accept the kiss he plants on her lips as he crawls over her, urging her back to the headboard. “Is it the cat ears?” She reaches up to give the (already molting) plastic and faux fur ears a flick. 

“The Kat ears,” he says. He nips softly at her real ear and she shivers. “The Kat nose.” He kisses that too. His nose nudges her head back, inclining her neck at the perfect angle for him to plant a stretch of kisses down it. “The Kat neck.” His mouth wanders down the front of her dress and he scoots down the bed with it. “The Kat’s cradle.”

“You have that,” she says, hiking her legs up to hug around his middle because her arms can’t reach to hold him. “You’ll always have that.” 

“A piece of that Kit Kat bar.” He kisses her stomach. “The whole Kit and Caboodle,” he teases and she laughs loudly, but on a dime his tone is changing, from silly and playful into husky and dangerous, as he moves lower. “Kitten,” he murmurs and her fingers curl in the bedsheets at the name. “Grab my phone,” he tells her, hooking his fingers around the band of her tights, “Tell Finnick we’re going to be late.” 

An hour or so later finds the cat ears lost somewhere among the remains of their costumes and a hasty snack of pepperoni rolls cooking in the convection oven. Peeta, festooned in boxers and an old apron, presides over the food like it needs a baker’s supervision. Katniss perches on the counter, wrapped chest to toes in the white sheet she pulled from their bed, feet batting absently at the cabinets. 

“This is a good look too,” he tells her, gesturing with the salad tongs he’s using to handle the pepperoni rolls. 

“What is? This sheet?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of sexy ghost.” 

“Or sexy Roman senator,” she laughs, tossing one edge of the sheet over a bare shoulder. “Sexy Julius Caesar.”

“You’d make a good Julius Caesar,” he says. 

“Why?”

“You’ve got that “came, saw, conquered” vibe. Least that’s how I felt that night at Finnick’s party.”

“Conquered?” 

“I was gonna say seen, but — yes. Conquered too. I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He snaps his fingers. “Sexy ice queen? Definitely.” 

“I’m not exactly sure what kind of Freudian analysis one could make on falling in love with the guy dressed as your fictional sister but — ”

Peeta shrugs as the timer beeps, and he sets to fishing the pepperoni rolls onto a plate for them to share. “I choose to think of it as a metaphor for how the two people you love most in the world are your real, actual sister …” He sets the rolls beside her on the counter and sets his hands gently on her sides. She lets the sheet fall and pool slightly around her waist to cup his face as he leans in to kiss her forehead, very gently, thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. “And some loser who has the luck of … oh, I guess having the same first initial and hair color as she does,” he jokes. 

“And the same beautiful heart,” Katniss corrects in a whisper. “I mean that.” She’s rarely so sentimental to anyone except him. She smirks. “And I haven’t even started drinking yet.” 

“Well, my pretty kitty,” he starts, wrapping both his arms around her middle and hoisting her off the counter. She rolls her eyes, even as her hands card through his hair. “The night is still young.”