i like the cat deity (bc they were a cat)

"I want only you." with jj maybank from the prompt list ??

Jealousy

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.2k

JJ was going from girl to girl. He was having one-night stands. He was hooking up with every touron in sight. Truth be told JJ was trying to fill a void. He loved you and he was sure you didn’t love him back. He felt like he wasn’t good enough for you.

It was another party at some kooks house, how you and your friends, the pouges, got invited was a mystery. You were having fun dancing and drinking the usual partying scene.

You were getting yourself another drink when you saw him. You saw JJ talking to a girl that you didn’t know. You felt a pain in your chest at the sight. You didn’t know what was being said but you could bet 100 dollars that he was flirting with her.

The drink you got was a mai tai. It entered your system and made you a little buzzed. The idea of having to watch JJ flirt was nauseating. Therefore, you decided to wander upstairs.

You passed by a couple who was making out on the top of the stairs. You wandered down the hallway and tried a few doors but they were all locked. Eventually, finding nothing entertaining you decided to head back downstairs. As you turned around you were met with a hard chest.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t see-“ you started.

“Rafe.”

“Hiya princess, what’s a pretty girl like you doing up here all alone,” Rafe smirked.

“Nothing I was just looking for the bathroom,” you spoke quietly choosing to lie instead of telling him you were just wandering around.

“Second door on the left,” Rafe pointed.

“Hey and maybe when your done we could get you another drink!” Rafe shouted as you walked towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was nice but you didn’t want to be in there long. You simply did your business and walked back out to the party. Rafe was leaning against the wall, waiting for you.

“There she is!” Rafe gestured towards you outstretching his hands.

“Yeah yeah yeah so where’s this drink you promised?”

“Come with me,” Rafe put his arm around your shoulder and led you downstairs.

When you reached the kitchen, Rafe pulled out two mai tais from the cooler. He handed you one and whispered in your ear, “drink up.”

You did as you were told and before you knew it you were on your fourth. You were standing around talking to Rafe about random things when you see JJ racing towards you and Rafe.

He got right up in your face and started yelling.

“What the hell do you think your doing?!”

“Drinking,” you slurred.

“With Rafe?” JJ accused.

“Yeah with Rafe, you were too busy eye fucking that poor girl,” you spat.

“Right so you keeping tabs on me now?” JJ questioned.

“No but you have no right to be jealous when all you do is hook up with other girls,” you shouted.

“Oh that’s rich. I’m not jealous, I’m just surprised your hanging out with this kook.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I care. I care about you ok?! Is that so hard to believe? Rafe is bad news,” JJ yelled.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you pointed your finger at him. You went to take a step towards him but you lost your balance and fell forward. JJ caught you thankfully.

The proximity of you and JJ got you flustered. The alcohol already was making you flushed you didn’t need to increase it. You could smell the alcohol on JJ’s breath, it was hitting your face.

“Thanks,” you acknowledged for catching you.

“No problem,” he breathed.

“If your little cat fight is over, I wasn’t done talking to y/n,” Rafe cut in.

“You know what Rafe, be my guest. Screw this I’m out of here. Hang out with whoever you want,” JJ stormed off leaving you drunk on his aroma. The few seconds that you were that close to him left you feeling dizzy.

“I’m glad that we’re finally alone,” Rafe expressed.

“Thanks for the drinks but I have to go,” you spoke quickly.

You wanted to find JJ and talk to him anything to continue to be around him but you had no luck. He was gone. You wondered if he found a girl to go home with. You hope not.

Kiara was the one who got you home safely because you were too drunk to do so yourself and you tried asking her about JJ but she knew nothing. When you finally made it to your room, you went to bed that night hoping JJ’s jealousy was real and that he wasn’t hooking up with a girl tonight.

——————

You woke up with a terrible hangover. You had a bad headache and you were feeling nauseous. You wanted to hide under the covers and never come out.

The day was bright and sunny, making you cringe from all the light. The headache you had didn’t help. You were sensitive from the light due to your hangover.

You want to check your phone and realized you had a text from JJ.

JJ: can we please talk?

Y/N: yeah I guess so.

JJ: come to the château.

The walk over to the château wasn’t that bad but your head was pounding. JJ was outside waiting for you.

“Hey you came!?” JJ stated.

“Yep.”

“Ok just listen and let me speak first,” JJ demanded.

You nodded your head.

“About the party, seeing you with Rafe made me really angry. I was super jealous and I know I have no right to be jealous but I was. I wanted to punch the living daylights out of him for even looking in your direction. You make me feel things I never thought I would feel. I think I’m better with you in my life, and I love you.” JJ finished.

You were shocked by his speech, you didn’t expect him to say that at all. You stood there thinking how to respond to that with JJ looking at you for an answer.

“How will I know that you’re loyal?” you asked.

“I want only you,” JJ replied.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes, I mean every word. No girl could ever compare to you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So all those girls you were with mean nothing to you?” you raised a brow.

“I was only with those girls because I thought you would never love me back. I was being stupid and careless.” JJ explained.

“It really hurt me to see you with them.”

“So you were jealous?” JJ smirked.

“What No i- maybe,” you pondered.

JJ laughed and you were excited to see him so happy.

“Listen JJ I’ve always loved you,” you started.

JJ let out a sigh of relief, like he was holding his breath waiting for you to tell him that you love him.

“Good.”

“Can i kiss you i’m dying over here.” JJ pleaded.

“Yes.”

JJ grabbed your face and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was heated and frantic. You were relieved that he was kissing you. JJ was eager. Your lips were crushing together. JJ’s blood was rushing through his veins. JJ’s hands were cupping your cheek.

When the kiss was over both of your were smiling.

“Come back here,” JJ spoke.

You grinned into the second kiss. JJ moving one hand to your waist to pull your body closer to his. The other hand moved to your neck.

When it was over you were both breathing heavy.

“it’s just you and me against the world.” JJ acknowledged.

“Yep.”

Those Who Wait

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Word Count: 4,985 Tags: 18+, Loss of virginity, Insecure reader, Fingering, Protected sex Summary: When you let it slip to the team that you've never had sex, they make it their mission to help you find someone who will make your dreams a reality. *Requested by anons!

Link to A03 or read below! “I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate this, but I am not a virgin,” Spencer says, palms up, and it’s clear this is something he’s reminded the team of on more than one occasion. You’re on the jet on the way home from a case, all of you gathered around chattering mindlessly to decompress, with the exception of Hotch, who is in his usual seat, working on his computer.

“And I never said I was talking about you,” you reply, with a tone just shy of smartass. You regret bringing it up already, because this will open the door to a topic you did not want to discuss with the team, ever, but you can’t put the cat back in the bag.

“Hold on. Are you…?” Emily grins a little, but her face drops into a frown when she notices the change in your demeanor, the tension in your shoulders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, at all.”

“You’re a virgin? Really? You’re almost thirty,” Morgan says, leaning forward to look at you, and you nod, shrug. “Is it a religious thing? Saving yourself for marriage?” You scoot back in your seat, blow out a breath, use the casual posture to try to mask your discomfort.

“Nope, it’s not a religious thing. I’m just waiting for someone who’s worth it.”

“If you’re waiting for the perfect person,” JJ says, folding forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you’re going to be waiting forever.”

You sigh, because this is exactly the reason you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I’m not waiting for the perfect person. For a long time, I didn’t have time to date, and I was—you know, satisfied, without it, so it wasn’t an issue.” Your cheeks heat a little when you say it, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck. “But lately I’ve kind of shifted toward wanting to have sex, to find someone to make the connection with. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I do have standards.”

“Don’t put pressure on yourself to do it. You’ve waited this long, why rush into things?” Emily says with a soft smile, and you reciprocate, grateful.

“I actually think it might be better if she just goes for it,” Morgan disagrees. Why aren’t you surprised? “Get it in, get it on, and get it over with. Then you won’t feel like it’s hanging over your head.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m going on dates; they’re all just really, really bad dates—like, the worst I’ve ever been on.”

“How many dates?” JJ asks with an arched brow, and you grimace.

“In the last month? Twelve.” Morgan laughs out loud, and you kind of want to punch him.

“Twelve first dates in the last month and you can’t get laid? Where are you finding these guys?”

“This stupid dating app Garcia convinced me to sign up for. They all seem fine on their profiles—”

“Oh, no, you can’t go by their profiles. Complete bullshit,” Emily says, and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“How else am I supposed to know what they’re like? They’re strangers.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.” You’re a little surprised when it’s Spencer who chimes in; everyone turns to look at him. “You’re a lot like me, and I know that I was nervous and insecure, and waiting for the right person made it a really great experience for me. I think you should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful.”

“She’s going to be waiting ‘til she’s eighty,” Morgan says with a grin, but he pats you on the back. “And if you do, I guess that’s okay. Not every guy can be a catch like yours truly.”

“Oh, spare us,” JJ says with a laugh, and you move on to other topics for the rest of the flight.

When you go to grab your luggage before heading back to the office, it’s just you and Hotch left on the jet; he’s been quiet for most of the trip, but when he steps up next to you, he says your name, low, to get your attention.

“I just wanted you to know, you deserve to be treated well… your first time. You should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful, like Reid said.” You just look at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Part of you knows what you want to say. You want to say, is it worth it? You want to say, how will I know? You want to say, would you make it meaningful?

What you say is, “Thanks, Hotch.” He nods, hands you your bag, then takes his, closes the luggage compartment; he gestures for you to go ahead of him, and the two of you exit the plane.

You all go back to the office. Everyone hangs around for a few minutes, but Hotch goes up to his office, turns on the lights, sits down at his desk, and takes off his jacket. He’s in for a long night, then. You’re just getting ready to leave when Garcia strolls over, bag in hand.

“Hey, girl. How was that date the other night? Haven’t gotten to talk to you about anything other than murder the last few days.” She notices that your eyes are on Hotch’s office, looks up at him and back down at you. “Is everything okay, hon?” The concern in her voice snaps you out of it, and you look to her, smile.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The date was not, though. I’ll walk out with you.” You grab your things, throw your jacket over your arm, and take one last look up at Hotch’s office before making your way to the parking garage. You go on seven more dates over the course of three weeks that are a complete waste of time and effort. Who knew having what you consider relatively basic standards would make losing your virginity so goddamn difficult? You know you’re not a knockout like JJ or Emily, and sometimes your nerves get the best of you, but you’ve been pretty charming, funny, all dolled up and putting out clear, but not desperate, DTF vibes.

The longer your quest drags on, the more embarrassing it gets. It actually becomes a part of the morning meeting: as soon as you enter the briefing room each day, Morgan raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head. He’s keeping a tally. You want to die a little bit.

Finally, you’re sitting at home one evening when you get the call from JJ that you’ll be heading to Miami for a case first thing the next morning. You thank her for letting you know, but before she hangs up, she says, “Bring a dress, something sexy. If we have an extra night, we’re going to a club and getting you laid.”

You stammer, a little embarrassed at the directness, but you pack a short, light, red dress, something appropriate for a humid Miami night, on the off chance you’ll actually get to go out.

The case is solved in a day and a half, and you are going to stay the night again, so JJ and Emily make it their mission to get you ready for a night out, and Morgan and Spencer make it their mission to scope out your potential partners and check for red flags before you even get close to them.

It’s sweet, kind of wholesome, when you ignore the fact they’re trying to get you fucked.

You have a drink at the outdoor bar, try to loosen up a little; the place is swarming with gorgeous, supermodel looking women with very little clothing on, breasts and ass everywhere you turn, and you feel inadequate, self-conscious in your little red dress. You freaking hate Miami.

You get glances from Morgan and Spencer, nudges of encouragement from Emily and JJ—even Hotch is around somewhere, part of the red flag detail, which you hadn’t expected—and you’re so close to giving up when a song comes on that you know and absolutely love.

Sex is outside your realm of knowledge, but dancing you can do, and you wrap your hand around Emily’s wrist and tell her you want to. JJ takes your drinks, sets them on the table, and the three of you head out to the dance floor.

It’s clear they didn’t expect much of your dancing, because they looked surprised as hell that you know how to work your body to the music, putting your arms on JJ’s shoulders and moving against her. She looks up, grins at Emily over your head, and cocks her eyebrow, impressed.

“Not that innocent after all,” she says, and you toss your head lightly, laugh.

“Said I was a virgin, not that I was innocent.” The three of you dance together, and you’re approached by several guys who try to get behind you, in between you, closer anyway they can. JJ and Emily are selective with who they entertain and who they give the brush off, and you’re grateful, because despite the outcome, you’re having a good time, and you never would have done this alone.

Eventually, a man comes over, wants to dance with you specifically; the girls exchange looks, give you a nudge, and you put your arms around his neck, let him rest his hands on your hips.

He’s pretty hot, you have to admit, a little under six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile, and dancing against him feels good. If it’s any indication of what if would be like to have sex with him, you’d let him take you home in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s been pre-planned that you’ll go back to your room upstairs if you hook up, so your people are nearby in case anything goes wrong; it’s maybe a little weird, the thought of your coworkers being cheerleaders while you lose your virginity, but what about this isn’t weird? At this point, you’re just going with the flow.

This guy is nice enough, doesn’t go straight for your ass like other guys you danced with, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing; you pull back, get his attention so you can tell him thanks for the dance, but you’re going to go back to your friends.

You don’t get a chance to say that, because you’re guided away from him by two strong hands on your waist. You turn, ready to tell someone off for getting handsy with you, but it’s Hotch, so the defensive posture you’d slipped into softens.

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you ask loudly; his expression is serious, his brows pulled down in a frown. He shakes his head, leans in closer.

“I can’t let you go through with that—with him,” Hotch says in your ear, still hard to hear over the thrum of the music, and you put your hand on his shoulder, lean up so you can speak into his.

“What? Why not?” you ask, breathless from dancing and the heat. “JJ and Emily thought he seemed alright.” You didn’t actually want to go through with it, but that’s not important at the moment, not when Hotch is clearly trying to get some kind of point across.

“It’s not that, I just—you deserve better.” You frown, not sure you heard him right, and one of the hands on your waist moves lower; he presses you closer. “I don’t know if you would consider it, but I could do it. I could be the one.”

“The one?” you breathe. You need to hear him say it to confirm it’s not all in your head, that you aren’t taking anything out of context.

“The one you sleep with. The one to show you how good it can be. The one who will treat you well.”

You take a step back, have to see his face; is this pity, kindness, genuine interest? Because for the last few weeks, after every bad date, you’ve come back to the thought of Hotch kissing you, touching you, taking you apart. You know his hands are capable, you know he is kind and gentle, and it’s only the thought of him that keeps you from leaving with the first guy to show you attention. You’re so frustrated, never more desperate to feel than you have been since he told you you deserved something good.

He swallows when you look up at him, and your heart races.

“If you want to, I want to. No pressure if you don’t,” he assures you. What he’s saying is so unexpected, but so perfect, and you nod, wet your lips, lean back up on your toes to put your mouth to his ear.

“I want to. I trust you.” Feeling bold, you brush a hand over the back of his head, press your lips to the side of his neck. “Please?”

“Are you sure?” He sounds as tense as you feel, holds you tightly, like he needs to make sure this is really happening. You cling to him just as tightly, nod your head against his throat, and he squeezes your waist, ushers you across the crowded patio and inside the cool air of the hotel. You both sigh, because it’s quieter, more comfortable, and your gaze lingers over his body until he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

You’ve done your fair share of kissing, and Hotch is so good at it, his hands on your face, his lips softer than you would have imagined, but firm in the way they press against yours. When the kiss breaks, you bring your hands to his wrists, breathing heavily, and then lean in to follow up with a kiss of your own.

He smiles softly, and you smile back, then slip your hand into his and let him lead you to the elevator. You’re not sure if it’s the night of dancing, the heat, the thrill of not only having sex after waiting so long, but having sex with Hotch, or what, but you feel changed; you’re a grown adult, you know that losing your virginity doesn’t mean much, doesn’t change who you are fundamentally, but the thought of experiencing it gives you a stomach full of butterflies in the best way possible.

“Would you like to go to my room, or yours?” he asks when you board the elevator, and he presses the button for the third floor. You plan to say it doesn’t really matter to you, but a thought crosses your mind.

“We can go to mine. I have condoms.” You’re not shy about using protection, know it’s just plain stupid not to, when you've been essentially searching for a new partner whose sexual and medical history you know little to nothing about, but telling Hotch makes your face heat a little. “I bought a variety pack—you know, when I started going on the dates.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, nodding, and then he bends to kiss you, brushes his fingers over your jaw. “How are you feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Good,” you clarify. You feel so much better than okay you barely know how to say it, but there is one thing you didn’t think to ask before. “Hey, are you… are you attracted to me?” You look him over curiously, and the elevator dings; you step forward to get off, walk down the hall, but Hotch puts his hand out to stop the door, which stops you.

“I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, and ever since you mentioned on the jet that this was something you were looking forward to… I can’t deny I’ve thought about being the one you share it with. Are you attracted to me?” You wet your lips, ready to reply with an emphatic yes, but he must take it for hesitation. “I understand why you want to do this, but if you aren’t attracted to me—it’s important that you want this with me, not just that you want this. I don’t want us to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

His words make you lose a little of the nervousness you were still holding onto, and you decide to show, not tell, how you feel about him; you wrap your fingers in his shirt and guide him down for a kiss that is hotter than before, still soft and slow, but wet and deep, too. After a moment, the elevator dings—likely due to the door remaining open for so long—and you break apart, breathless, and exit the elevator to head down the hall to your room.

Your interaction isn’t exactly awkward at first, but a little stilted: you both take off your shoes, and you grab waters from the mini fridge, hand him one and take a long sip of the other. It’s almost as if you are delaying the inevitable, but it’s not because this isn’t something you want to do; if pressed, you’d say the idea of having this time with Hotch is actually something you want to savor, not rush into too quickly. You aren’t delaying, but prolonging, and eventually you have to snap yourself out of it and just enjoy what you have while you have it.

You cross the room, walk over to him, and put your hands on his stomach, look up at him with clear eyes. His fingers ghost over your bare arms, and for a moment you just share breath, a lingering stare, until you stretch up to meet him in the middle for a deep kiss.

Hotch moves his hands to your hair, tips your head up, and you wind your arms around his back, pulling him closer and stepping forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He is warm, broad, solid beneath your hands, and you push them up the back of his shirt, skim them over his skin.

“Can I take this off?” you breathe when you separate, and he nods, helps you work it over his head and drops it to the floor.

Your hands rest on his stomach again, glide up his chest, and when you kiss this time, he turns you so your back faces the bed, eases you onto it. He lays between your legs, kisses until you’re both panting with need, and when you lean your head back to catch your breath he moves his mouth to your neck, trails it slowly up, then down, softly bites at the base of your throat. You hum softly, clutch his shoulders, bring your knees up around his waist.

“God, I want you.” He pulls back, looks down at you, his chest heaving, and you nod, brush fingers through his hair. “I want you, Hotch. Please touch me.”

He begins with the slow drag of big, careful hands down the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your dress up around your waist. You can’t stop looking at his face, serious and handsome, even though the rest of him is perfect too; you like that he looks affected by this, like it means something to him as well, like you’re not alone in feeling a bit overwhelmed. He moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans up on his knees so he can pull your panties off, sets them on the bed beside him.

“I’m just going to rub. Tell me if it’s too much, not enough.” He curls over you for a kiss and slides his fingers along your pussy, three of them, long and thick. You close your eyes immediately, because the first touch is so good, his fingertips gliding through your slick and spreading it over your lips and clit; you are both breathing heavily, mouths hovering over each other, and you clutch at his biceps while he rubs where you are soft and aching.

It’s not that it’s not enough—you could get off this way, easily, you’re halfway there already—but you want more, imagine yourself clamping down around his fingers, digging your nails into him when you come.

“Can you…” You trail off, bite your lip, and he smooths a palm over your cheek, your hair.

“Ask me. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to give it to you.” A soft, needy noise leaves your throat, and he presses his lips to yours, slips the pads of two fingers over your clit, rubs circles against it. “Is it this? Is this what you want?” You wet your lips, think no but yes, move a hand to his face.

“Can you put your fingers inside me? I want to feel you inside.” Your voice trembles over it, not used to being so direct, not used to asking for what you want, and his answering kiss is deep, wet; he pulls back to look at your face as he presses one finger inside, and you feel your expression shift, from desperate to intensely pleasured, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Hotch, oh.” He pulls it out slowly, nearly all the way, and pushes it back in, rubs your cheek, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Good is an understatement, and you clench around him, slide your hands down his forearms, nod. “Good. It’s okay if you’re just quiet, but if you’re nervous about how you’ll sound, don’t be. I’d like to hear how you’re feeling.” Another reason to feel so good about this—because you are self-conscious of the way you’ll sound, and you should have known he would pick up on it, try to ease your insecurities. You wet your lips, nod, and he moves the finger slowly in and out, adds another when you ask him to.

“Mmm. Mmm.” You bring a hand to your covered breast, squeeze it, and he moves to push your dress up further, to bare it, maybe, but you tense, then instantly feel silly.

“What is it?” he asks gently, running his hand over your stomach instead, and your muscles relax, you sigh.

“Just a little self-conscious… about my breasts—especially after everything I saw downstairs,” you say, huffing a laugh, and he chuckles, nods.

“Miami is a bit much. But you’re so beautiful, sweetheart, just as you are, and it’s clear they bring you pleasure. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take your dress off all the way, touch them… kiss them.” The prospect sounds so tempting—your nipples are sensitive beneath your own hands, but under his? His mouth?

Your breathing picks up again, and you nod, rest your arms over your head so he can pull it up and off. You swallow, trembling and bare beneath him, and he steps off of the bed to push the rest of his clothes off, too; you know you feel vulnerable, so maybe he sensed it, wanted to make you more comfortable? Either way, he is gorgeous, and you’re so grateful to be doing this with him.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks, bending over the edge of the bed to kiss you with a hand on your cheek. You direct him to your bag, and he opens the box, takes out the one he needs, walks back to you; you lean up on your elbows to watch him intently as he tears the package open, rolls it onto his cock. When he climbs on top of you again, when he pushes your knees gently apart and makes himself at home between them, you shudder; you can feel his dick for the first time, hard against your thigh, and he leans in to kiss your throat, your shoulders, and eventually, your breasts.

His mouth covers one, his hand covers the other, and you gasp when his lips close around your nipple, suck softly. “Hotch, oh my god.” You lift your hips, looking for contact, and he removes the hand from your breast, uses it to line his cock up so it can slide over your pussy as you rock against him, wet, perfect pressure, as he pulls your breast more roughly into his mouth, nibbles it.

You arch your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he moans, slowly glides his hands over your throat, into your hair. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he slips out from between you, making you sigh at the loss. Now that you’ve felt him, it’s maddening to be without, and you wet your lips, touch his face.

“I’m ready.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks, your chin, rubs his nose softly against yours, and you meet for a deep, slow, wet kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please.” You move your hands to his waist, guide him closer, and he pushes slowly inside, lets you get used to the stretch it brings. It just feels good, not really a new sensation, since you’ve put toys inside before, but he is so much thicker, more satisfying to feel along your sensitive channel, his body warm on top of yours.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs, lips grazing yours, and you curl your hand around the back of his neck, just kiss him, enjoy the fullness and the slide of his tongue.

“So good. You can move,” you say, and your voice sounds strained, but it’s with arousal, not discomfort. You hitch your knees up higher, put your hands on his arms, pull him in so he’ll know that. “Want to feel you, Hotch.” You share breath for a few moments, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, repeats it a few times, slow and steady, looking into your eyes.

You moan, carefully roll your hips in time with his, and he pumps inside a little deeper, a little quicker. You grip his arms, move your hands to his face, unsure what part of him you want to touch, anchor yourself against. He leans down for a kiss and you press your fingers to his cheeks, kiss him more passionately, less timidly than you’ve been so far. He groans against your mouth, and you pant as your bodies work together; it’s almost instinctual, the need to take him deeper, to meet, thighs hard against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sliding his hands over your sides, hips, and you nod, gasp when he shifts up, gets his mouth on your breast again, kisses it wetly while his cock glides inside. That’s enough to have you moaning, loudly, head back, your hands on his body now, to feel his muscles flex while he thrusts inside you.

“Hotch, oh. Feels so good, I—” He bites down, lightly, just the edge of his teeth, and your legs snap tight against his body, shaking while you come around him. “Oh, oh. Mmm.” Your muscles contract so hard he grunts, your pussy all but trapping him there, and he grinds against you, grips your thighs.

“So perfect. You feel so good coming for me, so tight.” You ride out the pleasure, rolling your hips against his, and when you’re a little looser he thrusts again, slides an arm behind yours, his hand carefully around the back of your neck, kisses you until he comes, groaning, in your ear.

You look up at him as he gathers himself, wets his lips, and you curl around him for a hug; he holds you tightly, rubs gentle palms over your body, murmurs that you’re incredible and he hopes you know that was special. It's the connection you were looking for, intimacy, and you are so incredibly happy you found it, even if you did find it in the unlikeliest of places.

You lay together for a few minutes before he pulls out, ties off the condom, takes it into the bathroom, and then you go in to pee. You look yourself over in the mirror—again, fully aware that losing your virginity changes almost nothing—but you can’t help feeling like a missing piece has locked into place.

If makes you wonder if the missing piece maybe wasn’t sex, but Hotch.

When you head back into the other room, you expect him to be dressed, or at least getting dressed, but he’s laying back on the bed, covers turned down, body still bare—what you can see of him is bare, anyway, because crisp white sheets cling to his waist, make him look only that much more delicious as he waits for you.

You suddenly ache with desire again, touch your chest at the rush of emotion, of sensation, and then you climb on the bed, slip into his lap, kiss him again. This time it’s different, because your lips and tongue are all saying what you can’t, and it’s intimate, passionate, vulnerable, intense.

Except, maybe you can say it, because he kisses back just as furiously, and it translates into something as strong as what you’re feeling, his hands on your face and lower back holding you close.

“I want you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you’re panting hard, desperate for more. “Not just tonight—I want every night to feel like tonight. I know you weren’t planning for anything more than this, but if you like, maybe I could take you to dinner when we get back. We could see if there’s something more?” He looks nervous, like the offer won’t be well received, but you just nod, smile, lean close for a gentler brush of lips.

“I’d really like that. I don’t want to only feel like this tonight.”

You kiss a little more, softer, sweeter things, eventually moving from his lap to curl against his side; the two of you cuddle, talk—it’s not awkward in the slightest, just feels right, and you drift to sleep warm and content in his arms.

Maybe Miami’s not so bad after all.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

Date The Hell Out Of You - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 16+ (Fluff) Words:  1,575 Warnings: I have opinions about comic books so don’t come at me. I think it’s a very mild argument anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but if you feel offended pls know it wasn’t my intention to bash on Batman lol. AN: Hellooo here is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme is Co-Workers and I just wanted Denki and a bookstore so you get this short and fluffy little thing. You’re welcome! Please check the masterlist below for everyone else’s works and heed each pieces warnings before you dive in!

Collab Masterlist My Masterlist My Ko-Fi

---

“You cannot sit there and tell me that you think Batman is better than Iron Man. I refuse to believe it.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring daggers at his best friend.

This had become like a routine to Kaminari, ever since he’d started working at the bookstore, which had been almost a year ago.

He took his lunch break at the same time most days, anxiously hoping you had a break at the same time as well. It wasn’t because he thought you were cute (he totally did, honestly), he just enjoyed your company. You had some loud and unique opinions on a lot of things, and he was thoroughly entertained when you went off like this. 

“Well they’re both billionaires with no special powers, just a lot of cool gadgets, right?” Sero pointed out, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head, his bento sitting forgotten on the table.

“You’re right. But Tony Stark has a sense of humor. Batman is such a stick in the mud.” You made a face from your spot across from them, your chopsticks resting over your cup noodles, the utensil keeping the lid closed so they would cook. 

“Yeah, but in terms of physical strength, Bruce Wayne has got Tony beat.” Sero sat forward, picking up his chopsticks again. “Tony relies on his tech. In a hand to hand fight, Batman wins every time.”

“Tony is smarter, though.” You sighed. “Look, do I need to direct you to read the Civil War series? It’s only like 7 issues. I can lend them to you.”

“It’s got Spider-Man in it.” Kaminari supplied helpfully. “He’s your favorite.”

Sero chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll change my mind.”

“Trust me. Batman is lame, he’s got some interesting villains though.” You finally moved to eat your ramen. “What about you, Kaminari? Any opinions?”

Shrugging, he finished off the last bit of rice in his bento. “I don’t know, I’m not huge into comic books. I like Deadpool, though.”

“That’s so on brand.” Sero chuckled. “He’s a ridiculous dumbass, just like you.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, Deadpool is probably one of the funniest antiheroes. He breaks the fourth wall so often, it’s my favorite thing.” You grinned at him. “I think it’s a perfect choice.”

Kaminari could feel the blush creeping up his neck at your words. You thought he was funny. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Clearing his throat, Sero stood up. “My break’s over. Can you check on the YA section when you’re back on, Kami? Some kids were in here earlier and I think they moved all the Twilight books around.” His teasing grin told him that Sero had not missed the way he’d reacted to what you’d said to him. 

“Sure thing, boss.” He gave him a salute. “I’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sero packed up his bento and shoved it back in the breakroom fridge and left, leaving Kaminari alone with you. 

Kaminari opened his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to his mind. “But here’s the real question.” He pointed at you with his chopsticks. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

--

Kaminari was crouching down, putting the last copies of ‘Breaking Dawn’ back on the shelf when someone walked up to him.  

“If she’s Team Edward you’re going to have to call up Aoyama and ask him to hook you up with some body glitter.” 

He glanced towards his right, smiling at the scuffed black boots belonging to his other best friend, Shinsou.

Kaminari stood, staring at the cat sticker stuck to the side of the reusable coffee cup that his perpetually tired friend always had with him. His gaze then flicked to his face, his customary grin back on his lips. “You think he can help?”

Rolling his eyes, the purple haired man shifted on his feet. “Of course. He works for some makeup place, I bet they have loads of glittery shit.” 

Humming, Denki let his gaze move back to the shelf, making sure everything looked okay. He threw his arm around Shinsou and began walking back to his own section (he was in charge of The Classics, okay?) leaning into the taller man. “I’ll pick you up some black eyeliner while I’m at it.”

“Please do, I’m almost out.” He snarked, before his smirk fell and he sighed. “Look, you need to do something about this crush you have on Y/N.”

“I do not have to do a thing, my friend. I am happily content sitting over here and pining away quietly.” Kaminari threw his arm out dramatically. “Leave me be.”

“Quietly?” Shinsou snorted. “Look, man, I just mean, I’ve been seeing Monoma hanging around her a lot, I just don’t want you to miss your chance.”

Kaminari stopped walking. “Monoma? But he works in the reference section, where they sell those ‘for dummies’ books!”

“Maybe he read ‘Flirting for Dummies’ and now he has a clue. You should look into it yourself.” Shinsou’s raised eyebrow caused Kaminari’s frown to deepen. 

“I know how to flirt, Shinsou.” Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to go back to Science Fiction and get some work done?”

Sipping his coffee, he fixed Kaminari with a look. “Since I am such a wonderful friend, you’re going to swap me on Saturday and work my section, which is conveniently right next to Manga and Comics, where Y/N will be. You are going to make a move or so help me, I am going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’.”

“Why that one? Why not something longer, like ‘Don Quixote’?”

“Do you want it to hurt?” Shinsou asked, looking entirely done with his shit. “You’re ridiculous. Just do something, otherwise Monoma might get a date before you do.”

Kaminari cursed under his breath. The thought of you laughing and smiling at Monoma’s terrible jokes rubbed him the wrong way. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”

Seemingly satisfied, Shinsou patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.”

—

“How come you and Sero always have these fancy looking bentos for lunch?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kaminari paused with his rice halfway to his mouth and looked up. “Our roommate. He’s like a mother hen, he always packs us lunch.”  

Looking impressed, you raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a keeper.”

Chuckling, Kaminari sat back in his chair. “Yeah, he’s a handful, but under his extremely aggressive exterior he’s a good guy.” He gestured to your ramen. “Maybe I can get him to make you one. All I have to do is tell him you eat cup noodles for lunch every day and he’ll have a heart attack.”

“I like my ramen, okay? It makes me feel like Naruto.” You raised your arms and grinned. “Believe it!”

Rolling his eyes fondly, he turned back to his lunch, poking at his tamagoyaki. He’d been working in the section beside you all day, listening to you gush over the newest shipment of manga you’d received, shoving books at him and making recommendations. He’d been trying to work up the courage all day to get off his ass and ask you out, and he was failing spectacularly.

“You know, if you want to be like Naruto, you should be eating tonkatsu miso with the little narutomaki in it.”

You blinked at him, looking surprised. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

This was it. His chance. “We should go get the real thing sometime.” He swallowed thickly, his palms sweating. “Like, maybe tomorrow night?” He closed his eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“Kaminari, are you asking me on a date?”

The fondness in your tone had him opening his eyes to see your expression. You were blushing, biting on your bottom lip as you stared at him.

“I mean, yeah. A date. If you want to, I mean.”

He was seconds away from backpedaling, his heart climbing up his throat and on the verge of escaping his body. The anticipation was killing him. 

His nervousness and fear of rejection was all for naught. Your face lit up, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I would love that.”

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped his lips. “Yeah, okay. Awesome.”

You giggled, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your palm. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Feeling a little ridiculous, he blushed and nodded. “I was worried you might. I’m an idiot and you’re...you.”

You scoffed, kicking him under the table lightly. “You’re not an idiot, Kaminari. To be honest, I thought you’d never ask. I guess Shinsou wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” He sat up straight, frowning. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say?”

Snorting, you shook your head. “He might have mentioned that you liked me. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Are you kidding? Was I not being obvious enough?”

“You flirt with everyone, I didn’t think I was special.” You teased. “I’m glad he was right, though.” You turned back to your noodles.

“You are though. At least you are to me.” Grinning, he nudged your foot with his. “I’m going to date the hell out of you, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

His heart swooped in his chest when you looked back at him across the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

( VELVETEEN RABBIT. )

What do you get when you mix Thumper and Bambi?  Answer:  Jeon Jungkook.

pairing.  french lop bunny!jjk x ragdoll cat f!reader.

genre + rating.   hybrid!au set in college.  super fluffy, a little angsty, with a dash of smut to balance it all out.  explicit towards the end because i just can’t help myself.  oops.

tags / warnings.  honestly, this jungkook should just come with his own warning.  but more realistically, mentions of kook using a scrunchie, kook being cute, kook railing his date after using the world’s worst puns...  the usual.

wc.  4.4k

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ as always become, c’mon.  i’m me.  she’s her.  

author note.  this was written as part of @thebtswritersclub​‘s a hybrid fest and is gloriously late (i’m so sorry @ditttiii​​).  i’ve never written anything hybrid-related before so hopefully you enjoy.  feedback goes a long way!  xoxo

He orders the same thing every time he’s in.  Iced Americano, no room for cream, and a single almond croissant.  (Every once in a while, he switches it up for matcha but that’s exceedingly rare.)  He always pays with a tap of his wrist - a sleek black AppleWatch with rubber band - and flashes his trademark slightly too-big smile.  All the girls swoon.  So do the guys.  Everyone except for you.

He’s unnervingly handsome, with long dark ears that sometimes hang in front of his eyes.  You’ve caught him with them pulled back Lola Bunny-style, knotted with a loose silk scrunchie that looks nearly as soft as his fur.  His hair’s usually unkempt, tossed into a little sprout of a bun, overly long fringe falling all over his big round eyes.  He wears butterfly clips sometimes, though that’s usually on days where he isn’t freshly sweaty and carrying his gym bag.  They appear in his hair when it’s damp from a shower, the smell of papaya and honey clinging to every inch of him.  You know, because you have a great nose - one that’s sensitive to every smell under the sun but especially his.  (You try not to think about it much.)  

It’s a Wednesday morning when you notice the change.  It doesn’t register at first, acknowledgement coming in a curious sniff at the air.  Weird. 

“Thanks,” he says like clockwork, a well-oiled polite machine, deceptively slender hands receiving the exceedingly hot cup without a care in the world. He’s got his usual bag over his shoulder - overly big, black, almost tactical - and a pair of comfortable looking pants on that seem more like they belong on your beloved grandmother.  Somehow, he rocks it (but he always does).  “Have a nice day.”

Because of course he says that.  Of course he steals the words right out of your mouth, turns them back on you as easy as he makes your heart rattle around in your chest like it’s a Friday night bingo ball. 

He moves toward the bar - he only ever grabs three napkins, tucks them into the slot on the left side of his bag - but pauses halfway there.  Rooted to the same spot as always, sleek ears following the imposing line of his shoulders.  

One, two—

The thumping starts, so quiet it’s almost negligible.  But you catch it, because you always do and because you’re the reason for it. 

He turns then, levels you with a look from the corner of those pretty, pretty eyes and you can’t help but laugh, openly, unashamedly, with the back of your hand plastered to your mouth. A true ojou-sama. 

His mouth quirks - does that funny thing where he sucks in his cheek then rolls it back out with his tongue - and you think he might finally say something.  Call you out for writing his name wrong for the past five weeks, finding more and more creative ways to do so every time.  Even occasionally using nicknames - silly things you’d come up with while on the walk home, or during lunch, or in bed.

“Good one,”  he states, laugh lines threading over his face, prominent around his eyes.  His nose wiggles with the sound - another of his traits that comes out to play often.  Your favourite of them all, if you’re being honest.

“Anytime.”  

You don’t realise it’s him until it’s too late, until you’re practically running into him, bouncing off the broad expanse of his back with a startled squeak.  Lucky for you, you’re quick on your feet, catching yourself before your skull can become too well-acquainted with the red brick wall to your right.

“You okay?”  Though he asks, you have a sneaking suspicion he knows you’re not and an even stronger suspicion that he’d been waiting for you, hovering past the entrance of the cafe with his big university hoodie on.

“Barely,”  you manage around a laugh, straightening the backpack slung over your shoulders, packed to the brim with goodies you got to bring home at the end of the night and two of your textbooks.

“Should watch where you’re going.”  

This is the most conversation you’ve had - ever.  But it’s fun, easy, organic and natural.  You wonder why that is. 

“You should watch where you’re standing, actually.”

He’s so much bigger than you, imposingly tall (especially being part of the Leporidae family) and wide in the chest.  Not bulky by any means, but big.  Strong.  Threaded with a strength you don’t normally see in hybrids of his kind.  It probably has to do with how often you see him covered in sweat and panting, basketball hooked under his arm, soccer cleats tied to his bag.

When he speaks again, it’s full of mirth, squeezing his round eyes near shut.  “Got a problem with me standing here?”  

You nod, solemn as ever (which is really never, but that’s besides the point).  “It’s dangerous to block entryways, didn’t you know?”  You’re gesturing to the awning, the dark interior just past the window of the shop.  “You’re loitering, Jungkook.”

“So you do know my name.”  You can tell he’s not surprised - that he’s hamming it up for dramatics, softly pink lips rounded in a little ‘O’.  He’s cute like this, you think.  Playful in a way you’ve never seen before.  

“I do?” 

There’s that cheek thing again.  It’s even more attractive up close, the shape of his jaw thrown into prominent relief when he sucks in a breath.  

“You just said it.”

You nod, thoughtful, finger tapping upon your chin.  “I guess I did.”

“Say it again,”  he states, expression inscrutable, eyes bright.  They’re so glossy even under the dimmed streetlights, impossibly big and undeniable.  So easy to get lost in - if your attention weren’t caught by something else.

“What is that?”  

You’d noticed it earlier in the day, caught the scent in passing sometime during the early hours.  You’d been unable to place it then, too distracted by freshly ground coffee, a girl’s three too many spritzes of Daisy by Marc Jacobs, and baking banana loaves.

It’s heady, masculine.  A strong musk that sinks into your nose and makes it twitch, ears rotating as if that’ll help pin the smell down.  

“What’s what?”  You hadn’t realised how close you’d become, your face five seconds from planting directly into his chest.  (It’d probably be nice - you know how soft your school’s merchandise is.)  “Are you okay?”  He asks because you’re now, actually, planting your face right against the worn navy cotton.  It’s terribly nice, silk upon your cheek.  

You answer more to his clothes than to him, nosing into the fabric. “You smell different.”

You feel more than hear his laughter, the sound barreling past his teeth seconds later.  The vibrations running along his spine jostle you from your position face first upon him but you don’t mind.  It doesn’t send you far, dark eyes peering up into the face of the bunny hybrid.  True to his kind, his nose is twitching, puffs of laughter expanding his cheeks when he meets your stare. 

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”  Tone firm, a finger lands upon the neatly embroidered N on his hoodie.  The white stitching stands in stark contrast to your baby blue nails.  “You smell… off.”

Whether Jungkook’s offended or not, you can’t tell.  He’s got that same strange expression on his face - the one from this morning when he’d received his coffee.  It’s made up of too many moving parts:  the flutter of his lashes, the coil of his jaw, the minute tick of the corner of his mouth.  You can’t read him for shit, somehow more confused now than in your 300-level art history class.  (You’d taken it as one of your optional electives assuming it’d be an easy A.  You were wrong.)

“Sorry you think so,”  he hums, looking down at you.  You’ve seemed to fully forget the meaning of personal space, edged up beside him as if you’re best friends and not just two ships passing in the night. 

“It’s not bad.”  Really, it isn’t.  It’s strong and sensual, vegetal in a way, calming in another.  But it isn’t unwelcome. 

In fact, you think you might like this scent a little more - less sweet than what normally clings to his skin, natural honeycomb rather than processed sugar.  It zings across your teeth, pieces broken up and scattered behind your molars.  You can practically taste it.  Him.

“Is that so?”  

“Yep.”

You share a look - one that says more than all the words you’ve ever spoken, that threads together all the silly laughter, narrowed stares, (written) flirtations.  It settles between the two of you, filling the spaces with something akin to cotton, light and airy and soft.

The desire to speak lingers, hidden just beyond the cotton candy dusting.  Should you?  Shouldn’t you?  You still have no idea what he’s doing here, a street urchin making his rounds on the campus village.  

He beats you to it.  “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”  

You don’t think you could want anything more.  “Sure.”

Silence falls again but it’s comfortable, a caress rather than a crutch.  The grounds are surprisingly quiet - wayward students on their way to the library or heading home from lectures.  There are no picnic blankets spread across the grass, no gaggles of girls dressed in school colours.  It feels like the first day of fall, change sitting heavy in the air. 

“So—”  You start.

He finishes,  “do you wanna go on a date with me?” 

That’s surprising.  (Or is it?  You’re not really sure.)  You nearly trip over your own two feet in your haste to look at him, entire body swivelling on the spot because apparently you can’t just turn your head like a normal person.  Something something all or nothing. 

“What?”  

“Do.  You.  Want.  To—”  He’s being insufferable for the hell of it.  You can see it in his eyes, glossy things shining down at you like he’s got the entire fucking nightsky hung in them.  

“Not if you keep that up,”  you retort, though you both know you’re lying.  You’ve been waiting - wishing, wanting - for this moment since the day you laid eyes on him.  Since Yuri had elbowed you so hard in the ribs you’d thought you’d be bruised for days, since Jae had rambled on and on for his entire shift about the cute new bunny who’d come in that morning.  Since that very first wrongly spelt name on his plastic cup and every visit since.  

“Is that a challenge?”  

“You won’t get it in.”  

He scoffs, loud and drawn out, cheek rounding with disbelief at your disbelief.  How can you possibly doubt him - school basketball star and all-around athletic freak of nature? 

“What do I get if I do?”  The ball rests in his palm, poised to be shot through the hoop, sunk without making contact with the rim.  He’s confident - he’s done it a million times.  

“A pat on the back?”  As much as you tease him - loop mockery around nearly every syllable you speak, you’re endlessly supportive, already carrying the fruits of his labour under your arms.  A Pikachu shoved haphazardly into the purse slung across your body, a Snorlax tucked under your arm at an awkward angle that crushes his poor head, a Sylveon tucked into the side pocket of his joggers.  (The arcade was really into Pokemon, apparently.)  “Me saying thank you?”

“Not good enough.”  He leans in close - those big galaxy eyes practically swallowing you whole - and taps a single finger upon your nose.  It makes your nostrils flare, an itch blooming under his touch.  “Gotta sweeten the deal.”

You must look hilarious because Jungkook’s biting back a smile, smirking down at you.  Then, all at once, without breaking eye contact, he’s extending his arm, flicking his wrist, and— swish!  

In goes the ball, leaving him with a perfect score.  

“I want you to stay the night.”

You think he’s joking.  He must be joking.  This is your third date.  

But he’s staring at you like he’s completely serious, gaze expectant, lips pursed around something that reads like a smile but has your heart doing a strange little one-two step in your chest.  It soars for a moment, high above the clouds like the string orchestra of a choral work - Beethoven’s Ninth in D minor. 

“Are you propositioning me, Jeon Jungkook?”  It’s the same reaction he always has when you say his name: a twitch of his ear, the corner of his bottom lip quirking and then resetting, eyes so sparkly it’s almost absurd.

“No.  I’m just telling you what I want.”

“Huh.”  You should say no.  Guys like him - with charm that oozes out of every pore, whose offhanded smiles break more hearts than you ever have - are almost always bad news.  Too sweet, too funny, simply too much for your feeble heart to take.  

“Is that a yes?”  He’s got you in his clutches - a viper rather than a hare, with a smile so dangerous you’re paralysed by just the sight of it.  (Who needs venom?)

Your words catch in your throat, stick to one another like the deformed gummies at the bottom of the movie theatre bag.  What comes out isn’t what you expect.  “Okay.”

Damn you.  Damn him.  Damn how good he smells and the big dumb grin that spreads over his lips, sunshine in human form, undeniable and warm and cute enough to start a war over.  (That’s probably what’s happening - a vicious battle between your head and your heart.)  

Damn his stupid thumping foot that you can make out over the sound of the video games, the boisterous din.  It’s so cute you can’t help yourself from smiling, mouth pulling and pursing around the delight that begs to be freed.  

“Cool,”  he says, and you almost think that’s not very cool.  He’s so nonchalant, cavalier about it as if it means nothing.  You’d be bothered if you felt like you didn’t know him so well - hadn’t learnt his idiosyncrasies over the last two months.  

How he looks when he laughs really hard, his slightly too-big front teeth taking up all the real estate in his mouth.  How he sounds when he’s tired (groggy, with a lisp that rarely sees the light of day otherwise) or when he’s told he’s wrong (pouty, with his bottom lip jutted out so cutely you want to scream).  How he runs every morning, hits the gym every night, and eats double your protein because fitness, bro!  How his cheat meal of choice is soy garlic fried chicken from the place off-campus and he hates tangy, tart desserts (your lemonade lip gloss not included, he insists).  How he can’t sleep if he’s too hot - which he often is - and he spends way too long combing through his ears with a specialty brush he doesn’t let anyone touch.  How he’s secretly raindrops and gummy bears and hand holding in the car, so much more than his high school superlative of most likely to grace the cover of GQ.

You wonder, because you know those things, does that make you special?  Does it make you immune to the heartbreak that you swear you imagine whenever your mood drops (not often, but often enough)?  

You hope so.

“Let’s go shoot guns?”  He’s tearing you from your reverie, planting an open-mouthed kiss to your temple.  It’s sloppy and not very refined, much less suave than what you’d expect from your school’s soccer captain (and basketball small forward and swim team stand-in).  You suppose that’s why you like him so much - because he’s always surprising you, keeping you on your toes. 

“Let’s.”  You agree, letting your date drag you toward the Time Crisis machine.  It’s blissfully unoccupied, allowing the two of you to slide into place.  He takes the blue gun, you the red.  

He squeezes your hip when you take up position, one eye squeezed shut as you look down the barrel of the plastic weapon.  “Better not let me die.”

“Better not get shot,”  you return.  

He doesn’t listen - failing halfway through the helicopter scene, his shot missing and resulting in some sad miserable death in the form of Continue? blinking across the screen.  Neither of you mind that much though.  He occupies himself on his phone, free hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans.  You play better when he’s not shouting terrible call-outs, nearly crashing into you because he gets so into it.

(How he’s never got a concussion on the basketball/soccer/etc. field before, you’re not sure.)

By the time you’re done - a good five minutes later, you think - Jungkook’s growing restless, tugging at your belt loops enough that you stumble with every shot, nearly knocking yourself out when you have to steady yourself on the centre console.  

“Kook!”  Your glare is barely that, too affectionate to dissuade him from his childish antics.  

He pulls you forward, traps you between his thick thighs, tattooed hands settling comfortably on your hips.  “Let’s go home.”

“Someone’s in a hurry.”

Of course, he doesn’t deny that.

It’s not the first time you’ve been over.  Not even your second or third.  You’ve met up with him before his games, thrown his jersey overtop and helped him wrap his fingers before hitting the court.  You’d even had to grab his cleats for him once, running across campus as he did drills in his socks as punishment.

This time feels different.  You know why but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.  It lodges somewhere in your throat, makes it hard to breathe when you kick off your shoes and tuck them neatly beside Jungkook’s.  

“Are you hungry?”  He’s already in the small kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at you as you linger in the adjoining hallway, bag halfway over your head.  

“I’m good.”  You are, really.  You’d eaten one donut too many at the arcade, indulged in a little too much disgusting nacho cheese goodness.  You don’t really understand how your date’s still hungry, a cucumber crunching between his teeth when he turns back to you. 

Standing there, vegetable devoured in quick, decisive bites, he looks every inch the French lop bunny he is.

You reach him in the same instant he finishes his midnight snack.  Arms fold around you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, head dropping to rest comfortably upon yours.  Like this, his ears tickle your cheek - velveteen fur lost to the silk of your hair.  “Are you tired?”  

Another no comes - spoken into the fuzzy fabric of his sweater - and he hums above you, whole frame rattling with the noise.  

“No bed then?”  

At least he’s transparent, you think.

“One track mind much?”  You’re only teasing.  A part of you looks forward to… whatever it is that sits over the horizon, lost past the creaky bedroom door and somewhere beneath his surprisingly soft sheets.  (You’d asked about them once - he’d told you his mother liked to send him housewares to remind him of home.  He was a real mama’s boy that way.)

The monster only laughs, snuggles into your hair like it’s home.  “Can you blame me?”  

You can’t do much of anything when he’s like this - so utterly adorable and enticing and good for your heart that it feels as if you’ve taken a straight dose of morphine.

“Let’s go to bed, Wookie.”  Another nickname, recently coined after you’d spent an evening watching Star Wars for the first time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You whack him on the way to his bedroom, smack a hand over the arm curled around your shoulders.  He pretends like it hurts, howls in a way he he thinks resembles a wounded animal but really just sounds stupid.  “Not a ma’am.”

“Sir?”  He asks, just to make you laugh. 

“If you don’t shut up—”  

He pushes you through the door of his bedroom while giggling to himself, sound puffing out of his cheeks.  “Don’t be mad, kitten.”  The two of you drop to the bed, a tangle of limbs and silken fur and squeaking laughter.  “You’re so purr-ty when you’re annoyed.”

He’s doing it again.  Dropping those stupid cat puns that make your nose wrinkle, ink-tipped ears folding back against your head.   

“I think I’m hiss-terical, don’t you?”  

Face adamantly buried into his sheets, you don’t give him the time of day.  You don’t even care that your mascara is probably rubbing off against the charcoal fabric, lipstick tint doing potentially irreversible damage.  He knows how unfunny you find these jokes, how you’ve heard them your whole life and roll your eyes so hard your optic nerve might sever every time you face another.  

What’s the point of sharing your pet peeves with him when all he does is lean into them?  Use them against you like it’s the cool thing to do.  Make you wonder what you’d seen in him when he was just another customer, another boy in Seoul National indigo and bedhead so dishevelled it begged to be managed.  

(You’re not sure why you’re so irritated suddenly, caught in the clutches of a moodswing as you curl into your side and ignore his bad jokes.)

Stupid Jeon Jungkook.  Annoying, silly, too-cool-for-his-own-good Jeon Jungkook.  

Jeon Jungkook who makes you second guess your choices, leaves you breathless and confused with just one dumb look.  Who has convinced you into his bed and teases you mercilessly, snickering to himself as his foot bounces against the floorboards because he finds himself that funny.

“Baby?”  The pet name comes, presses itself past your curtain of hair and invades your thoughts.  

You say nothing, adamantly faced away.

He doesn’t like that, sneaking his hands around you and cradling you into his chest as if that’ll lighten the mood.  (It does, a little bit, but you don’t tell him that.)  “Don’t ignore me,”  he mumbles, warmth breath tickling your ears, fingers dancing over the rungs of your ribs as if they’re ivory and not bone, playing a tune only he can hear.

“Stop with the shitty jokes,”  you retort.  You’re being difficult - can feel the vinegar turning your blood even as he tries to will it all away.

You feel the intake, the rise and fall of his broad chest.  You can only imagine how hard he’s biting his tongue, careful to keep his next errant pun at bay.  People don’t tell him no - only you.  Maybe that’s why you do it, to remind him you’re not just like everyone else.  

“Sorry.”  

You don’t tell him to show you how sorry— but he does anyway.

You’re astounded by him, utterly entranced by the way he moves.  How power runs the length of his frame, manoeuvres each of his limbs and turns your own to jelly.  

He’s got you face down, ass up, hands cradling your hips like they’re his home and he can’t bear to let go.  Every upward stroke feels like heaven - feels like a million lifetimes of pleasure you can barely wrap your thoughts around.  He’s impossibly big, thick and long.  The first thought you’d had when he’d stripped his black Calvin Kleins was pretty.  

You realise now there’s nothing pretty about him.  He’s filthy - the devil come to collect as he fucks you across his bed, nearly loses you to the pillows at the head with each snap of his hips.  (What they said about rabbits was true, you think.)

“B-Bunny,”  you sob, scratch over cotton that’s worn soft and smells exactly like your favourite sweater of his.  The linens are defenseless, tangled up and wrinkled with each flex of your fingers, bunched up within your palms every time he buries himself like he’s looking for the answer to life, thinks he might find it within the fluttering walls of your pussy.

“Not my name.”  When he sounds like this, he’s more predator than prey, a thousand volts of electricity shooting up your spine.  He’s demanding and unrelenting.  It makes your head spin.

“Wook—”  

“Not.”  Bunny teeth are just as painful as a feline’s, doing their job as they dig into the flushed skin over your back, marking his territory with two prominent indents right between your neck and shoulder.  “A.”  He ruts into you as if he’s got something to prove, snaps his hips to a beat you can’t keep up with.  “Wookie.”  Grips you so tight you might snap, red blooming beneath his hands.

You sob under him, drool against the pillows because you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut.  (You feel like Jungkook post-win, spewing nonsense as he prattles on about game winning plays with his teammates.)

“K-Kookie.”  It’s what he wants to hear - hits him right in the chest, a bull’s eye to the thing that beats wildly and in tandem with your own.  

His rhythm stutters.  The bed is shaking and not because he’s practically breaking the weak wooden frame.  No, his foot’s thumping, bouncing across the sheets even as he tries to regulate the roll of his hips, return it to the assured, teeth-numbingly good tempo it’d been at.  

It doesn’t work.  You love it anyway.  Like it more, because it means he’s just as affected by you as you are him. Your heart sings, leaps out of your chest on hummingbird wings, and dances around your head.  You’re a goddamn cartoon - Pepé Le Pew in ragdoll form - animated pink shapes circling like a crown.

You don’t care.  You can’t.  Not when he plasters himself to your back and asks you to say it again, begs you to tell him how good he is, tells you how he wants to make you his.  

Who cares if it’s three dates in, if your meeting was cliched and silly and he’s the campus heartthrob?  

You don’t - because he’s yours and when he flips you onto your back and you curl your fingers into his hair, it’s your name he stutters out.  It’s you who has him coming apart beneath your hands, the feel of his ears like velvet, the little whines he huffs growing louder each time you tug at the base.  It’s you who knows what he sounds like as he falls to pieces, throws himself against you as if gravity demands it.  It’s you who holds him to sleep, whose skin acts as a canvas for the doodles he traces as he drifts off.  

It’s you and it’s him and that’s enough.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​ @codeinebelle​​

» 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dabi x fem!reader 

𝐰/𝐜: 1.8k 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, sexual themes, smoking, angst without a happy ending (i’m sorry ;-;)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: so read something on kisses and what they mean like forehead kisses mean protection. A kiss on the hand means adoration. Stuff like that. One that intrigued me the most was shoulder kisses which means you're willing to share someone's burden with them. So I was wondering how Dabi would react to things like that considering all that he's been through it's obvious he doesn't trust anyone. So what if he one day stumbles upon someone who kisses him in weird places. He thinks she just wants to get into his pants but then he finds out what those kisses mean and then I guess I'll leave the ending to you.

beta’d by the lovely and talented @a-monsters-love xoxo

Dabi cradled his phone between his shoulder and ear and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You want to come over tonight?” he asked into it, glancing around the state of his current living situation and making a face. “I don’t know, doll. I got some business to take care of.” 

“Take me with you, then.” 

He chuckled, taking the phone in his hand and facing the sink. “You know what kind of business I do, baby. Not a good influence on an angel like you.” 

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Dabi. I miss you.” 

Dabi tipped his head back and sighed in defeat. “Fine. Only because you sound so desperate.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Heh, that’s my girl. I’ll pick you up in twenty.” Dabi ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of his trousers, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing again. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, taking you on his little business dealings so late at night. Despite you not being a stranger to the shittier side of town, he still had some strange urge to...look out for you? Dabi grimaced and shook his head. “Damn it.” 

“Are you going out with that shifty dude again?” asked your roommate and friend, Isaki. She watched you from the ratty armchair in the corner, her various piercings reflecting the lights from the kitchen. “The one with all the scars?” 

“His name is Dabi,” you reminded her while pulling on your leather jacket with a grin. “And watch who you call ‘shifty’, Miss Sticky Fingers.” 

Isaki rolled her eyes and went back to flipping through the book in her lap. “If you end up on a missing persons poster, I won’t feel sorry for you.” 

You chuckled as you opened the front door. “Yes, you will, because I’m the one who pays the rent, freeloader.” 

“I don’t freeload, I pay for Netflix!” she shouted after you, but you closed the door before she could say anything else and skipped past the broken elevator and down the stairwell.

Dabi was waiting for you outside, leaning against the side of the building with a cigarette hanging from his scarred lips. Once he saw you, he stood up straight and grinned. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said as you neared him. 

“Hi,” you said, pulling the cigarette from his lips and taking a long drag. “Miss me?” 

“Not at all,” he replied, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you against his torso. He bent his neck and kissed you deeply, tasting of cigarettes and midnight air. 

You slid a hand up to wrap around his neck, mindful of his scars, and buried it in the softness of his dark hair. He chuckled against your mouth and pulled away. 

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, looking down at you in his arms.  

“You like me because I’m dangerous,” you shot back, taking another puff from the cigarette and blowing the smoke to the side. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Something like that.” Dabi watched you through half-lidded eyes as you took one last drag and dropped it to put it out with the toe of your boot. “Ready to go?”

“One more,” you said, standing up on your tip-toes and placing another kiss on his parted lips. As you pulled away, you gently took his bottom lip in between your teeth and dragged them across the soft flesh. He groaned into your mouth and his grip tightened on your waist.

“Don’t do that, doll. You know how much I like that.” 

“Why do you think I did it?” you teased, stepping out of his embrace and dancing away. You glanced over your shoulder at him.

His eyes were focused on your ass, but flicked up to your face a moment later with a roguish grin. 

“Are we going to take care of business, or not?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

Dabi pushed himself off the side of the building and joined you, draping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you down the street, his other hand tucked in his pocket. As the two of you strolled along the dimly lit sidewalks, you couldn’t have felt more safe by his side.

“Are you ever going to tell me who you work for?” you asked him, pulling your post-sex-mussed shirt over your head and picking up your discarded pants. 

He chuckled as he lit another cigarette, watching you with lazy, lustful eyes. “I’m sworn to secrecy, doll. Besides, for all I know you could be a spy.” 

“I’d make a lousy spy,” you said, buttoning your pants. “I can’t ever keep a secret.” 

Dabi took a drag and placed an arm behind his head. “Why do you want to know who I work for, then?” 

You shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed to put your boots back on. “Curiosity.” 

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” 

“That’s true,” you said with a smirk, forgetting your boots and climbing back onto the bed. He looked up at you as you straddled him, placing your hand on his bare, scarred chest. You leaned down and pressed tantalizing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and back to his lips. “But satisfaction brought it back,” you murmured against his mouth. 

“Jesus,” Dabi groaned, his free hand traveling along your thigh and under your shirt. “Keep talking like that and I’m not letting you leave this apartment.” 

You laughed and slid off of him. “Isaki’ll kill you.” 

“Not the first time someone’s tried.” He dropped his cigarette into the nearby ashtray and leaned in for another kiss. 

“Funny,” you said, reaching out and cradling his scarred cheek. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

Dabi sighed and leaned back. “Alright.” He turned around and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his back facing you. 

You bit your lip and looked away. You wanted to stay, sure. You loved being around him. The sex was always amazing. But you also knew that he wasn’t the relationship type; you were afraid that if you got too comfortable, you would wake up one day and he would be gone. That, and the fact that it didn’t take a PhD to figure out that his line of work was dangerous, even for you.

The only thing you could do was lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his exposed shoulder, as a means to express that he meant more to you than just some hook-up. Dabi tensed beneath your lips, but said nothing. After a quiet moment passed, you pulled away to retrieved your forgotten boots.

Dabi leaned against the railing on your patio and exhaled the cigarette smoke into the cold night air, scrolling through his text messages on his phone with his other hand. The moonlight illuminated his scarred face and dark hair as he took another drag. 

Laughter from within your apartment pulled his attention away from his phone and he looked up through the glass sliding door. Immediately, he felt that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that always seemed to arise every time he saw you, and this time was no different. You were laughing at some stupid joke your roommate said, head thrown back to expose that beautiful neck he loved to sink his teeth into while he fucked you. But...he also noticed your smile, your sparkling eyes, and the way your shirt had slipped off your shoulder in the midst of your laughter. This wasn’t happening.

Dabi took another drag and irritably tapped a finger along the side of his phone as he exhaled. He tore his gaze away from your smiling face and stared down at the screen, eyes scanning the text he had gotten from Shigaraki, something about another dumbass mission he needed to go on with Twice, of all people. He’d rather get stuck with Toga. 

“Christ,” he muttered, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray and tucking his phone into his pocket. He glanced up at you again, only to find that you were now gazing back at him with such a lovely, oblivious expression on your beautiful face. Dabi had known how you felt about him for a while now, you were always so painfully obvious. And maybe in another life he would feel the same way. 

But this was his life, and the text on his phone felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his pocket. His mind wandered to the last few nights you had spent together, all shared breaths and moans and tangled legs. He remembered the way you had placed those tender kisses along his shoulder. Out of sheer curiosity, he had looked up what they meant, and it only made what he was about to do that much harder. 

Dabi slid open the glass door and slipped inside the apartment again, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the cold. You looked up from whatever you were cooking in your small kitchen, a grin splitting across your face. 

“There you are,” you said cheerfully, wiping your hands on a towel as he approached you. 

“Hey doll,” he said, instinctively reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He pulled his hand away like it had burned him. “Something came up and I have to head out.” 

“Oh,” you said, crestfallen. “Alright. I’ll walk you out.” 

Dabi gave a goodbye gesture to Isaki, who said nothing. He shrugged and followed you out into the hallway. 

“Duty calls,” he tried to joke through the awkward silence, but joking never really suited him. 

You gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Right.” 

Dabi tucked his hands into his pockets and stared at you. “Look...there’s something we gotta talk about, doll.” 

“You don’t have to say anything else, Dabi,” you said, turning your face away from him. No, he wanted to cry out. Please don’t look away from me. 

But, “It’s for the best,” was all he could say. 

“Of course it is.” 

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked down at your bare feet, knowing that he would never again get the chance to run his thumb along the inside of the arch while the two of you laid together in whatever bed he had for the night. He brought his eyes back up to your face, noticing the way your jaw was clenched and your eyebrows were pulled together. 

Maybe in another life. 

“Take care of yourself,” Dabi finally said, turning to walk away. 

“You should learn to take your own advice,” you softly replied. 

He looked at you over his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, maybe I should.” And with that, he disappeared around the corner and left behind the one thing that had brought him happiness in all his tortured years of living. 

drive you crazy

summary: there’s absolutely no way you and Matt have feelings for each other, right?

warnings: mentions of past drinking 

word count: 5.1k

note from the writer: my love for sam and rasmus really jumped out in this one, huh. let me know what you think!

Matthew Tkachuk was a constant presence in your life no matter how much you wished he wasn’t. He was loud, cocky, and it absolutely did not help that he knew just exactly how attractive he was.

Not that you found him attractive, of course.

When your roommate and closest friend, Jen, started dating Matt’s teammate Sam Bennett, you were introduced to a whole roster of boys. They were all nice enough, and you quickly developed close friendships with a few. Except, well—

“Matt’s here, and I need you to entertain him.”

“No, absolutely not.” You put your foot down, not caring how much you sounded like a child. Jen pouted, slipping fully into your room and shutting the door. It did little to block out the sound of two raucous hockey players laughing at something in your living room.

“This is the third time this week Matt has crashed our date night and I really need you to just get him out of my hair.” Jen pleaded, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were under the covers, the next episode of your favorite show queued up on your laptop. The last thing you needed was to have Matthew ruin your evening.

“Can’t you just tell him to leave?” You argued, pointing out the obvious while ignoring the blatant fact that Matthew was stubborn and would never be convinced to do something if he truly didn’t want to.

“He won’t listen to us, you need to tell him.” You couldn’t hide the roll of your eyes at her words.

“And what makes you think he’ll listen to me?” If you had known what Jen’s response would be before you asked the question, you would have kept your mouth shut. Instead, you watched in confusion as a grin grew across her face, the one that you knew meant nothing but trouble.

“Because he’s like, in love with you.”

And that was truly something funny, because it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You laughed loudly, knowing there was absolutely no way that he liked you, let alone loved. Your dynamic with the curly-haired forward was defined by constant bickering and backhanded comments—not loving glances and hidden feelings.

“I’m serious! He’ll do anything you say.” Jen added, sensing your disbelief. This was far from the first time she had alluded to Matt’s so-called feelings for you, but she never had been so direct.

“Yeah, right.” You snorted. Jen didn’t say anything at first, and instead shot you a challenging look and stood from the edge of your bed. Her smug look never once waverd as she opened your bedroom door, and without looking away from you called out to the boys in your living room.

“Matt! Can you go with Y/N to the grocery store?” You rolled your eyes at her question. You didn’t need to go to the grocery store, it was just a rouse so she and Sam could have some alone time. Why they couldn’t just go to his place, you weren’t sure, but you were torn out of your thoughts when Matt’s response came soon after.

“Yeah, does she need a babysitter?” His voice was light and it was clear that he was teasing, but you found yourself pouting. Jen grinned, gesturing wordlessly to you as if she was declaring victory in the situation. You hadn’t considered it a competition, but if it was, you figured she was far from winning.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” You huffed, shutting your laptop. As much as you didn’t want to go, you knew from the moment Jen asked you that you would. She was your best friend, and if spending some time with Matthew meant she got some alone time with her boyfriend she already struggled to see as a result of hectic schedules, you would put up with the menace.

“Mhm.” Jen hummed, clearly not believing a word you said. Before either of you could say anything else, your door was pushed the rest of the way open and Matt was standing in your doorway, his typical smug grin on his face.

“It’s nine o’clock and you’re already in pajamas?” He teased upon spotting the sleepshorts and oversized t-shirt you had put on. Making your way to the closet, you briefly acknowledged Jen shooting you one last look before slipping out.

“Not all of us need to stay out every night.” You shot back, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt to wear as a defense against the Calgary cold. Tossing the clothes on your bed, you turned to see Matt still standing in your doorway. “Can you leave so I can get changed?”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Cocky smirk on full display, it took everything in you not to throw something at him.

“Matthew.” You warned with a glare leveled at him. He raised his hands as if he was claiming innocence, and you rolled your eyes at his response.

“Kidding.” He chuckled lowly, before finally leaving the room. You sighed once the door was shut, running your hands down your face to try and rid yourself of the image of Matt grinning handsomely.

It’s Matthew, you reminded yourself. The same Matthew that took joy in critiquing every guy you mentioned you were interested in with a harshness you had only seen in his eyes on the ice. Not that you paid much attention to him while he was on the ice. The point was, you should not be letting Jen’s words get to you.

Matt didn’t like you, he liked annoying you.

Hurrying to get changed, you met Matt waiting for you in the hallway outside your bedroom. He had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but upon hearing your door open and shut, he shoved the device into his pocket and looked to you with a grin so wide he rivalled the Cheshire Cat.

“Ready?” You questioned, hoping to avoid finding out what exactly was making him so smug and keep things civil. You weren’t sure exactly how long you were supposed to entertain Matt, but you’d rather spend as little time with him bickering as possible.

“Nice sweatshirt.” He commented, and you had to look down and see which one you grabbed. It was an old Flames one that didn’t even technically belong to you. You weren’t sure why Matt was so smug about seeing you supporting his team, since you’d been to your fair share of games.

“Thanks, Rasmus gave it to me when I spent the night at his a few weeks ago after we all went drinking.” You explained absentmindedly. While you spoke, you began heading towards the front door, so you missed the way Matt’s expression fell. You did see Jen’s smug grin, and watched Sam shoot Matt a look you didn’t have time to decipher. “See you guys later.” You waved with one hand while the other reached up to grab your car keys. Before you could get them off the hook, though, Matt’s hand shot forward and snatched them up.

“I’m driving.” He grinned. A dozen and one protests came to mind, but you chose to simply roll your eyes and head out the door. You heard Jen shout something along the lines of ‘use protection’ before she was shut out by the door, and you opted to ignore her teasing. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye, and to your surprise you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks.

You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the elevator, trying to ignore the fact that your perfect evening plans of a night in were ruined by Matt. Well, Matt and Jen. The elevator arrived and only once you were both inside and the doors were shut, did Matt clear his throat to get your attention.

“So what do you need at the store?” He sounded genuinely curious, and you couldn’t help but snort at his question. The sound drew a smile out of him, and you briefly wondered why your heart fluttered as it did. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t need anything, Jen just wanted me to get you out of the apartment so you’ll stop third-wheeling her and Sam.” You explained with a lightness to your voice that usually wasn’t present when you were with Matt. He let out a loud laugh just as the elevator doors opened, and you followed him out.

“Well, I’m not going to hang out at a grocery store if you don’t need anything.” He explained as he led the way out of your building and towards where your car was always parked. You watched in curiosity as he moved to the passenger side of your car, and your brows tugged together in confusion as Matt opened your door for you.

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically. You were certain there was going to be some joke in there somewhere, but you couldn’t find it and he didn’t seem like sharing it.

“Being a gentlemen?” He replied with just as much confusion as you. You tried to hide the way your lips quirked up in a grin, but he noticed and repeated the action himself.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You quipped as you climbed into the passenger seat. Matt didn’t take your comment too seriously, and instead you heard him chuckle as he gently shut your door. In the time it took for him to go around the car and get in on the driver’s side, you thought about why he was being so nice.

Maybe Jen did have a point.

No, he was Matt and you were you. You weren’t exactly friends, so you definitely weren’t anything more. But the way he was acting was definitely something more. Your heart started to race and you wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it as the driver’s side door opened and Matt slipped in.

“So, where are we going then?” You asked, hoping the mundane question would help calm your sudden and completely new nerves. Except, the universe was apparently not on your side, because in response Matt shot you a wide grin and you felt a circus of butterflies flutter inside you that had never been there before.

“It’s a surprise.” He told you, backing out of your parking spot. You busied yourself with plugging the aux cord into your phone and picking music, giving yourself time to compose yourself.

“I don’t like surprises, Matthew.” You replied, hoping that now since the silence in the car was filled by music, it wouldn’t be so awkward.

“You can call me Matt, you know.” He told you, casting a glance towards you with an unreadable expression in his eye before focusing back on the road. Your brows tugged together in confusion at his words, and he must have seen the look on your face because he elaborated before you had the chance to voice anything. “You always call me Matthew, but you can call me Matt.”

“Okay, well, Matt,” you emphazied, drawing a laugh out of him. “I don’t like surprises.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s someplace we’ve both been together.” And while you still were confused about where he was taking you, it certainly narrowed the list down. There wasn’t a lot of places you had been with Matt, considering that you and him were little more than people who bickered often and happened to share close mutual friends. There wasn’t even a title for the type of relationship you and Matt had.

“You’re not taking me to a bar, are you? It’s a Tuesday, Matt.” You groaned, jumping to conclusions about where he was taking you. If you were hanging out with him outside your apartment, it usually meant everyone was going out drinking. And since your apartment was currently off limits, you assumed he was taking you to the usual bar he and the boys always picked.

“It’s not a bar.” He chuckled brightly at your response. You couldn’t help it, you found your self smiling softly at him as he focused on the road. Calgary’s night lights lit up his face and you distantly wondered if that was the reason he had been driving you crazy all night—a different type of crazy than he usually made you. You knew you were in danger when the corners of his lips turned up in the smug way they typically did, but it was too late. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.” You defended childishly. At this point, you were just trying to save face. He chuckled at this, turning his attention fully to you. It was then that you realized that at some point, Matt had pulled into a parking spot and you hadn’t even noticed.

“You’ve been staring.” He teased, smug look on his face that you couldn’t argue because no matter how much it pained you to admit, he was right. Instead, you opted to roll your eyes and look at where Matt had taken you.

“Frank and Mary’s?” You questioned, unrestrained glee in your voice as your head whipped from the diner to Matt. Frank and Mary’s was a hole in the wall diner that you frequented while either drunk or hungover, and one time you had dragged not only Sam and Jen there one night, but Matt and a litany of others. It was your favorite, and you remember telling the others that countless times.

“I figured we could get milkshakes and fries and not tell my trainer about it.” You laughed at this, a real and genuine laugh and Matt’s grin turned into a real and genuine smile. “Good idea, right?”

“You were bound to have one eventually.” You teased, though there was no trace of malice in your words. Matt smiled at you for a moment longer, his gaze softening and you felt his studying his face. You coudn’t get mad at him for it, you had been caught staring at him only moments earlier, but it was more than that. You didn’t want to get mad at him for it.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. A frown etched by confusion found home on your features as you tried to understand his change in behavior. Nonetheless, you got out of your car after him, smiling politely as he held the diner door open for you.

You picked a booth to sit in, and Matt didn’t complain as he sat opposite you. The time before the waitress arrived was spent silently shedding coats and avoiding the other’s eye. You smiled politely as the waitress set two menus on the table and got her notepad out to write down orders.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly, looking between you and Matt. You opened your mouth to order, but he beat you to it.

“Two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries, please.” He said, handing her the menus back. You nodded, affirming that was your order before she slipped away to start making them. You raised a brow at Matt, a wordless question of why he knew your order. “You may have mentioned they’re your favorite once or twice the night you dragged us here.”

“They’re really good.” You defended meekly, having a hard time forming a thought that wasn’t why would he remember that and other things about him that weren’t useful at the moment. Matt chuckled, and for a moment it was quiet again. You smiled softly at him, and he readily returned it, but something flashed in his eyes as his gaze fell to the sweatshirt you were currently wrapped up in.

“So, you and Rasmus, huh?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you heard an edge in his tone. Your brows scrunched together in confusion as you tried to understand the meaning of his words, and when it clicked, your eyes widened.

“There is no me and Rasmus. We’re just friends.” You assured him, unsure of why you felt a need to make it clear to him that you weren’t seeing one of his teammates, or anyone, for that matter. He was Matthew, the guy that drove you crazy and annoyed you with his constant teasing comments. The guy that was always at your apartment, third wheeling Jen and Sam until they either kicked him out or he found his way to your room to bother you.

The guy you wouldn’t mind kissing every once in while.

“You sure about that?” Matt questioned with a ghost of his usual smug grin, dragging you out of your earth-shattering thoughts. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You. Matthew. You and Matthew.

Well, that was a problem.

“Yes, I’m sure, you dick.” You teased, hoping your words didn’t reflect that you were freaking out. That you weren’t going crazy about the idea that maybe all your so-called annoyance at him was just some ploy to cover up your feelings for him, a ploy so clever that not even you knew about it. “Guys don’t like me like that.”

“Well, that’s not true.” Matt interrupted your mental panic, because you absolutely had not meant to voice that to him. It was a subtle confession about how he didn’t like you like that, Rasmus and any other guy being the furthest thing from your mind.

“What?” You questioned rapidly, hoping that maybe he was making a not-quite confession like you had. That maybe he liked you and he wasn’t just trying to be nice.

“Hm?” He hummed, as if he hadn’t said anything and suddenly all your hopes came crashing down around you. Both of you were saved from having to come up with something to say, because just then the waitress returned.

“So, is this date night?” She made small talk as she set the first milkshake in front of you. You weren’t sure who was flushed more, you or Matt, but either way you were rushing to shake your head while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope.” Matt’s smile was tight as his gaze met yours in a moment that felt charged with something you couldn’t place. “We’re just friends.”

You had two weeks to figure out why the statement made your stomach twist the way it did. Two weeks before you saw Matt again.

“Matt’s coming tonight.”

“Okay.” You told Jen, not looking up from your phone as you scrolled through it on the couch. You didn’t have to look up to see the confused look she gave you, and when you saw her out of the corner of your eye stand before you with her hands on her hips, you sighed and looked up.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? You’re never okay when Matt’s here.” She questioned, and you couldn’t help the grin that made it’s way onto your face at the way she was so perplexed by you being nice to Matt.

“Aren’t you the one that wants me to be friends with him?” You teased, locking your phone and dropping the device into your lap. An expesperated look crossed Jen’s face, and you felt as if you were being scolded by a parent.

“No, I want you to be more than friends with him. And I need that to happen tonight because I have a bet with Sam and—” She started explaining, and you sat up as she piqued your curiosity with her last few words.

“What? You have a bet on Matt and I?” You asked, waving hand around to cut off her rambling.

“Yes, because it’s so obvious that you two belong together!” She didn’t even pretend to be ashamed by her actions, and you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at her. After all, you did have a similar bet going on when she and Sam first started seeing eachother—but that was different. Sam clearly liked her, while Matt was just another of your friends.

“You’re ridiculous.” You told her flatly, leaning back against the couch once more. She scoffed at this, reminding you once more that somehow you ended up in a position to be scolded by her like you were a child.

“And you’re blushing.”

“Am not!” If you weren’t before, you definitely were then, and you wanted nothing more than to have the ground open up and swallow you whole. So what if the idea, however unlikely, of Matt liking you made you flushed. You were only human, after all.

“Mhm, keep denying it.” She hummed, clearly amused by the whole situation. You shook your head, grabbing your phone and standing from the couch. You began your retreat to your room, Jen hot on your heels.

“I don’t have a thing for Matt, he drives me crazy.” You told her, a little white lie. Because he did drive you crazy, but no longer in the ‘he’s so annoying, I want him leave’ way, but in a ‘he’s so annoying, I want him’ way.

“That’s because you—” She called after you, grin evident in her tone despite not even looking at her.

“Don’t finish that.” You warned, sitting on the edge of your bed. Your suspicions had been correct, Jen was grin smugly ear to ear and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“I’m just saying!” She defended herself, as if she was innocent in the situation. You shot her a pointed look, but decided to not comment further.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be in my room, I’m not up for hanging out tonight.” You sighed. It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t in the mood to be around everyone after a tiresome day at work and an exhausting two weeks dealing with your unrequited feelings for Matt. Jen pouted, but knew when to back off. She sent you a pitiful smile and told you to have fun, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. With one last look, she slipped out of your room and shut your door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, a considerable upgrade from the uncomfortable work clothes you had previously been wearing. Crawling into bed, you opened your laptop and put on your favorite show. It didn’t take long for your mind to wander, especially when you heard the boys and Jen laughing at something in the living room. From what you could tell, it was more than just Matt and Sam, recognizing the voices of Johnny, Sean, and Rasmus before a knock at your bedroom door startled you.

“Come in.” You called, only half surprised to see Matt stick his head in the door. He grinned at you, and you waited for the comment about you being antisocial and curled up in bed, but it never came.

“Why aren’t you out with everyone?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. He stepped into the room fully, and you feared he could hear your heart pounding as he shut the door behind him.

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” You explained with a shrug. “Why aren’t you?”

“I wanted to see you.” He explained as if it was that simple. As if your mind currently wasn’t racing a thousand miles a minute to try and decipher what that meant. He sat on the edge of your bed, body turned towards you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if you looked just as flustered. “I’m kinda waiting for you to tell me to leave.”

“Would you even listen if I told you that?” You grinned, watching with a warm feeling in your chest as his smile widened and he chuckled.

“Is that an invitation to stay?” He hummed before kicking off his shoes and standing. And, well, you didn’t exactly say no as he pulled back the edge of your comforter and climbed in beside you. Before you really knew it, you were curled into Matt’s chest with his arm around you as he sat up against your headboard, laptop playing a show you truly couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anymore.

Your head was tucked under his chin with a hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, but also the rapid beating of his heart. You tried not to think that maybe you were making him nervous, because that would just lead to you getting your hopes up. Instead, you focused on the way his fingers were trailing absentmindedly up and down your arm, the other resting innocently on the crook of your knee that he had hitched across his lap shortly after laying down.

It was another two episodes before the silence was broken between you and Matt for something more than him making a comment about the characters or how he was completely lost on the plot. Two of the characters in the show were confessing their love for each other, and as soon as the scene started, you felt Matt’s already rapidly beating heart increase in pace. Deciding you throw caution to the wind, you called his name softly. He only hummed in response, eyes glued to the screen, so you paused the show and called his name again. This time, you earned his full attention, brows drawn together in confusion in such an adorable way you felt your confidence slipping away.

Now or never, you thought.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You asked, and then immediately wanted to kick yourself. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing, you supposed. You weren’t expecting Matt you laugh, though, and hold you just a little bit tighter to avoid having to answer. Your hand settled back over his heart to prove to yourself it really was beating abnormally fast, and when he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you called his name again. “Matty.”

And if you thought that his heart was beating quickly before, after the simple nickname fell past your lips, you thought he’d explode.

“It’s ‘cause of you.” He mumbled, your own heart picking up in pace. He was suddenly being shy, and you were certain you had never seen Matthew Tkachuk shy, at all, ever.

“What?” You asked for clarification, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. All signs were pointing towards what you hoped for, but you needed to be certain.

“You drive me crazy.” He confessed, his blue eyes finally meeting yours head on. You propped yourself up on your elbow so your face was level with him, and even though he was right beside you with an arm around you, you felt miles away as you tried to process what he said.

“Matthew…” You said softly after a moment, knowing that you needed to say something. He must have interpreted your lack of response as something bad, because the hopeful look on his face fell and he began backtracking.

“I know that I annoy you and that you don’t like me, but I had to tell you. I can go—” He started, and when he grabbed the covers as if to climb out of your bed you snapped to reality, grabbing his hand and effectively halting his movements.

“Matthew.” You stated, a lot more firmer than you had moments before. A grin grew on your face, and you saw his shoulders visibly relax. “Shut up for a moment, please?” A smile toyed with the corners of his lips and he nodded, but otherwise he complied. “You do annoy me.”

A puzzled look crossed his face—that clearly wasn’t what he thought you’d say.

“You’re annoying and yet, somehow, that’s endearing. We bicker and tease each other but at the end of the day I don’t actually hate you. And I don’t think I could ever actually hate you.” Your confession was quiet, and as you finished you used your free hand to cup his jaw. He leaned into your touch slightly, the simple act nearly melting you entirely. “You drive me crazy, too, Matthew.”

It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself then, surging forward to connect your lips in a kiss you hadn’t realized you had been waiting months for. He was much more gentler than you thought he would be, but as the kiss went on he had you pressed into the mattress. When he finally pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he was hovering over you, bracing himself with his arms so not to lay his full weight on you.

“A good crazy, I hope.” Matt teased, grin wide and happy before he ducked down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, revelling in the way you felt ten times lighter after confessing your feelings. Knowing that how you felt was reciprocated washed away any worries you had, and the smile you wore was truly genuine.

“A very good crazy.” You affirmed, looking at him with adoration. You brushed your hand through his curls that you wished he would grow out and take better care of, your hand settling on the back of his neck to gently guide him down for another kiss. You were so lost in Matthew that you didn’t hear your door open.

“I called it!” Jen announced loudly, causing Matt to roll off of you in shock. You glared at your roommate while the rest of the boys groaned, muttering complaints about how Jen won the bet or how Matt should have just waited a few days.

“Jen!” You threatened while flustered. Matt dropped his head back against your pillows, clearly annoyed at his teammates for interrupting while you were just embarrassed. It wasn’t a big deal, you knew, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable having your roommate walk in on you making out with someone. Especially the someone she had been trying to get you to go out with for what seemed like forever.

“We’re leaving. You two have fun.” Sam winked at Matt, and when Matt shot you a look, you frowned and swatted at his shoulder. He laughed at your response, letting you know he had been just teasing.

“Use protection!” Jen shouted her favorite line as Sam pulled her out of the room and Johnny shut the door with a smug grin you weren’t used to seeing from him. You groaned as soon as your friends left, flopping back against your pillows and earning a chuckle from Matt.

“I change my mind.” You huffed, grabbing Matt’s hand and toying with his fingers to distract yourself from your friend’s interruption. He shot you a curious look, and your heart raced at the thought that he was finally yours. “They drive me crazy.”

“As long as I’m the only one that gets to kiss you.” He mumbled, having already leant down to connect your lips together. You hummed against him, fingers curling into his hair as he pulled back slightly to admire you.

“That, you are.”

For the ask meme: burning bright, anything about the parts at the table with the Nein. You write their banter so well!

FIC SPOILERS BELOW!

Burning Bright on AO3

The entire dinner scene hit me like a bolt of lightning while I was working on this fic. It started with Beau’s outburst, and then Veth’s willful denial and subsequent fit, and I built the two scenes around that.

Diving into particulars….

“Uhm,” he said, intelligently, but quickly recovered and flashed his friends a smile. “It is most impressive. Certainly a step up from a tiny hut.”

A direct reference to the name of the spell. Originally it was Leomund’s tiny hut. I have no clue why in 5e Wizards decided to 86 the attribution names on so many spells like Otiluke’s resilient sphere and Tasha’s hideous laughter. Things like that always made me curious about the (what I assume were) PCs the spells were named after. I had thought maybe it was because the characters who diegetically invented them were specific to one setting, but in that case I don’t know why Bigby’s hand is still Bigby’s but Evard’s black tentacles are no longer Evard’s. I don’t like it. As an aside, Widowgast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower is, mechanically speaking, Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion. Anyway. Moving on!

It was delectable that Caleb wanted to impress him.

This boy hungry and not just for soup

Flustered, Essek tried to fend them off, but it was Caleb that did him in. It was always Caleb. The human took a large roll from his own plate, broke it in half, and offered one of these parts to Essek, who tried his best not to choke.

“You need to keep your strength up, ja?” Caleb implored him quietly.

The steady hand that accepted was a point of pride because it very much wanted to quake. The Kryn weren’t bread people, but...did he have any idea what this gesture would mean in Rosohna? Any inkling at all?

This is another one of those places where I delight in playing to cultural differences. What I’d had in mind for what that gesture—breaking food into two pieces and offering half to someone—WOULD mean in Rosohna was a bit nebulous, as I like to keep the reader guessing a bit and let their imagination fill in the blanks; but my rough idea was that it’s a courting gesture that signifies “I can and will provide for you, even if it means less for me.” An expression of selfless caregiving and an offer of partnership. Not wholly unlike a bird bringing food to a prospective mate.

And actually it’s a little bit funny coming from Caleb, who has fuck-all to his name but his name, when Essek is a rich bitch who answers directly to the Bright Queen.

Not that he was about to say it out loud, but he was a quick convert to this whole bread thing. To say that it won him over would be an understatement. That seemed to be a recurring theme here.

I imagine if I’d grown up never really eating bread and was introduced to it in adulthood I’d be like “Where have you BEEN all my life?!” But also: the bread is friendship, the bread is the Mighty Nein, the bread is communion in the spirit of sharing rather than politics and appearances and power plays—things he thought he was fine without until they were foisted upon him.

Somewhere in the course of the multiple conversations going on at one time, Jester got an Idea, as she was prone to doing. He became increasingly aware of her talking about kissing, of all things, and this culminated in her shouting above the din, cheeks flushed purple though he hadn’t seen her touch any wine: “I have an idea you guys! Why don’t we all go around and say how many people we’ve kissed?”

Jester is the most wonderfully convenient deus ex machina if you ever need to insert an awkward or embarrassing conversation among the Mighty Nein, because this is exactly the sort of shit she would do.

Jester leaped up and slammed her hands onto the table. “Caduceus you’ve never been kissed?! That’s so sad!”

The firbolg was unfazed. He merely shrugged and said, “It hasn’t come up and I haven’t gone looking. Not something I’ve ever thought about, really.”

Jester’s tail lashed back and forth behind her like an overstimulated cat. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Fjord went a bit wild-eyed at this. Caduceus smiled gently and said, “No thank you.”

Three things about this part:

1) Jester’s tail doesn’t get NEARLY enough mention in fic! If I’m playing (or writing) a character with a tail you can be damn sure you’re gonna know what it’s doing! Makes me wanna play a tabaxi tbqh.

2) Cad’s “No thank you” is the sum total of his sexuality, lol. Jester was raised in a pretty highly sexualized setting, didn’t really get out much before she fled Nicodranas, and can be pretty naïve, so she doesn’t really get the whole aroace thing; but it never crosses Cad’s mind that this would be “abnormal“ or ”sad” in any way—it causes him no distress, as it shouldn’t. This is yet another “Same planet, different worlds” moment.

3) Fjord is physically restraining himself from yelling “JESTER WHAT THE FUCK” lmao

Veth kept picking at it. “So you’re um. You know. Into the fellas?”

Beau snorted. “I could’a told you that months ago.”

“Yeah you could’a!” Veth pouted with a self-conscious curl to her shoulders.

I saw a comment on Tiktok that said Veth was being borderline homophobic, but that wasn’t my intent! It’s just that she inherited a certain blind spot for male queerness from her player, and as hard as she’d been trying to encourage Caleb to hook back up with his female ex, it never occurred to her that he had a male ex, too—and given that they’ve been so close for so long, she’s feeling pretty self-conscious about the fact that she never figured out that Caleb is bisexual in all that time, as well as kind of upset that no one—Caleb especially—told her. She’s having a moment of “Why didn’t I know this? Did you think it was going to change things between us? Did I make you feel unsafe?” And also a little bit of “Okay well, now I have to get him to hook up with TWO people AT ONCE because my boy deserves threesomes 😤”

Jester went goggle-eyed at him. “You’ve only been with one person?” she exclaimed. “But you’re like a hundred years old! And very handsome. I would have thought you’d get like, all the ladies.”

Ladies. Right.

Veth might not be the only one with a certain blind spot.

Beau gave her a funny look, snorting. “I dunno, he seems like the kinda guy who turns down those offers left and right.”

..…But Beau’s got his number, for more than one reason. She’s got super gaydar, for one, and has him pegged as the type who’s very choosy about his partners (also mind you, this was before demi!Essek was canonized by WoG, so I was still rolling with my hc that Essek got around when he felt like it).

The uproar was instantaneous. Everyone—almost everyone—started talking or shouting at once. Beau’s voice rang out among the din with, “HOLY SHIT ESSEK FUCKS.” Strangely pleased with himself, he downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and spent the next few minutes fending off increasingly prying, personal questions until the Nein grew bored with his lack of answers and someone changed the subject.

There it is, the line that spawned two entire scenes!

He was not a war mage, but he was experienced and wily, and he was damned good at what he did, and as long as there was breath left in his body, the Mighty Nein would not fall here.

Joke’s on me, motherfucker literally has the War Caster feat -_-

But like in my defense, that’s just what it’s called in the book. The feat just means that you have either the training or experience to cast well during a fight, which I see as not necessarily the same thing as a war mage, which was my way of saying an arcane caster who is a soldier.

Veth stared at her blankly as if willing herself not to understand. “Caleb? With who?”

She breathed steadily. “...Essek. Caleb and Essek.”

Beside her, Jester squealed and brought her fists to her face.

Veth was less enthused. “WHAT.”

Beau’s mental commentary here is dead on. Veth still doesn’t really trust Essek at this point and has been pretty vocal about that…despite being the one to declare him part of the Mighty Nein? Eh, she’s allowed to have complicated feelings on the guy, all things considered. But I find it kind of comical and very Veth (and very Sam) for her to be all full of zest for trying to get Caleb back together with the frigging Volstrucker who is actively working for his abuser and worst enemy but balk at him hooking up with Essek.

Jester “explained” in a delighted yell: “Caleb and Essek are gonna fuuuuuuck!”

I don’t know, is this too unsubtle to call foreshadowing? The line flowed naturally in the dialogue, but it’s also letting the reader know exactly what they’re in for next, lol.

“...He’s going to break that little elf twink, you know,” Veth said, sounding distant. Seemed she was having some difficulty processing. Not too surprising, considering how adamant she was about wanting their wizard to hook back up with his old flame, the fucking Volstrucker. “We’ve all seen his dick.”

This was 100% taken from Sam’s little throwaway line “It’s above-average” but it turned out to serve two purposes other than reminding the reader that all of these people have seen Caleb naked:

1) It’s yet another thing Veth thinks she understands about him but doesn’t. Caleb’s a top like Dalmatians are purple and if you disagree then I respect your right to be incorrect ;)

2) That said, it is, in fact, foreshadowing for the sequel, in which Essek experiences a great deal of frustration. (I haven’t touched the damn thing in weeks, feels like; I’ve been too busy with work, being exhausted from work, and being in a tizzy about my upcoming surgery.)

Fjord blurted out, “I’ll join you.”

Poor Fjord has had such an uncomfortable night!

Hoo boy that was a lot. Thanks for the ask, this was really fun!! And sorry it took so long; I work Saturday nights and things got really busy for a bit there.

Morosis.

Morosis- The stupidest of stupidities.

Pairing- Lee Haechan x reader

Genre- Fluff, Crack.

Word count- 1.81k

Warning- None but it's super random XD also note that i called Haechan a brat only for the purpose of carrying the storyline forward, irl i really want the 'Haechan annoying' agenda to come to an end :)

Summary- Haechan being his own kind of species the entire night.

Haechan is.. well Haechan. 

He's his own different kind of species. Don't take it the wrong way, he's extremely talented, down to earth, a really sweet human, and a mood maker. 

But on the other hand, he's a brat. A sassy, funny kind of brat.You need a whole lot of patience to deal with him. And you didn't have that.

 You loved him a whole lot though, the same for him with you, it's just, he makes you question your purpose of life from time to time. He loved making you angry, he found it cute, apparently. And together, the pair of you made everyone around you go crazy. 

Take for example this one time, you and Haechan along with his friends decided to have a movie night back at your place as your parents decided to go on a tiny vacation and your brother would stay over at his friends.

It was breaktime when you guys decided that it'd be fun if you all had a gathering at one spot kind of thing. So you stated that they could come over for a movie night, but made them promise not to break anything. 

You'd warned them about having a pet as Jeno was allergic to cats, or cat fur, or something along the line. And you'd recently gotten her along with your brother. 

All of you walk down the corridor towards your lockers, placing in unwanted books, taking the ones needed after the last bell rang. 

Once you are all done packing up, you meet up by the entrance of your school building, planning what you all want to watch at night. 

"So, how to train your dragon? Good choice, good choice" Haechan said, after you and Chenle decided on what movie you'd watch, it's a classic,but everyone loves it so rewatching it won't do any harm. 

"Be there, sharp at 7pm or I'm starting it without you" you exclaim looking at each one of them, double looking at Jaemin with your eyebrows raised. "Especially you." Jaemin did a solute gesture as the others laughed at the two of you.

"Okay losers, see you at Y/n's. Try coming earlier if possible" Haechan said, pulling you out the gates and onto the streets once you all said your goodbyes for then. 

Having a brother meant running out of snacks to munch on more than quarter of the time. So you and Haechan walked down the streets, talking along about how the day was and other random talking, coming across a convenience store.

You enter after playing rock, paper and scissors to see who'd pay for all the snacks. "Literally, no backing away, don't even try acting cute to get the other person to pay along with you" you said, narrowing your eyes knowing what move Haechan would pull if he'd lose. "Alright, cool with me baby just stick to your words hm?" he said, with a smug look on his face. 

Having to spend half of your allowance isn't the best feeling ever. It sucks. Especially having your own boyfriend call you boomer and walk out of the store after you'd lost, waiting beside it where there was an ice cream stand, eating when you were struggling to select which you wanted the most. 

After getting enough snacks to last throughout the night, you walk out of the store with a huge bag in your hand, the bill in the other and a grumpy look on your face. At least Haechan was kind enough to take the bag out of your hand and even brought you an ice cream after laughing at you for five solid minutes. 

"So, how's your piano lessons going?" Haechan asked you as the two of you took a turn towards the street leading to your house, it was past 6:15 pm when you actually started heading home, stopping here and then to eat from each street food stalls you'd come across, this time around, Haechan paying for it. 

"It's going good, isn't the easiest when my fingers just won't cooperate" you let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning your head against Haechan's shoulder while you walked up to the door to unlock it as he slightly nudged your head away so that you could open the door faster. 

"You'll master it, baby. It just needs time and talent" he said to which he earned a smack at the back of his head. "Shut it, dimwit" you reply, hanging the keys on the hook beside the door. 

Upon hearing the sound of the key, your cat, more precisely your four week old kitten, jumped off the tiny makeshift bed you'd made for her with comforters, making your way towards you, meowing in her tiny voice. 

Once she reached you she started rubbing herself against the material of your legging, you pick her up, "Hey bubbles! Did you miss mommy?" you speak as though you were talking to a baby. Not getting any reply, obviously you turn towards your boyfriend, who stood beside you, looking at your cat with nothing but love and affection. 

"Can I carry her..?" he asked in a cautious tone, not wanting to scare the cat. 

"Of course!" you reply, handing over bubbles to Haechan. He carried her, looking all over her before lifting her high up in the air like they did to Simba in the Lion King. 

"Babe.. Y/n..she oof-" he started, looking at the cat and then at you, "bro, your dragon looks dope" he said in an amused voice, nuzzling into bubbles' tiny fur coat. You had so much expectation for what he'd say when he started, but he's Haechan, what were you expecting. 

"Haechan.. She's literally, oh my god that's my cat. Not a dragon" you say, face palming, trying to get bubbles out of his grip, him turning away, shielding the feline from your reach. 

"I know, I'm not blind" Haechan said in an obvious tone, making his way towards the couch, settling in to play with the fur ball as you make your way towards the kitchen to place all the snacks away. 

"Then why would you call her a-..actually nevermind don't answer that question" you sigh.

Not even five minutes later you hear the doorbell ring, you look at Haechan to see if he'd open the door, to which he merely glared at the door and returned back to the cat. You make your way towards the front, opening the door to find three of your friends. "Hey guys, you're earlier than expected so come help me set the snacks" you said, not bothering to greet any of them individually, dragging Jaemin with his hands because you know he'd actually help you. 

"Babe! Who's it-oh hey Renjun" you ignore him and turn around to take a bowl to put the popcorn in, turning towards Jaemin to ask him to get the soda's "Jaem?" you call out, finding not a soul with you in the kitchen. 

You walk out of the kitchen towards the front as you hear loud noises from there. "Jaem you are supposed to be helping me-" you say with your hands over your face, rubbing it.

"You named your cat bubblebutt? That's genius!" Jeno exclaimed from beside Renjun, sneezing momentarily as the latter nodded along, all three looking at you, expecting an explanation. 

"I.. What?" you asked, confused as you could ever be. 

"You! Named your kitten bubblebutt! It suits her though" Renjun said. You look at Haechan stolidly, as he laughs at your expression. 

"Her name's bubbles" you look at them one by one "B U B B L E S, get it? Now come on Jaemin we need to get started with the movie" you look at him, he nodded and got up from the couch, making his way towards you. 

Fifteen minutes in setting up the floor, the TV, the couch, everyone had already come in and made themselves comfortable. Having Haechan introduce your feline to the rest of the boys, you having to tell them what her real name is.

"Everyone quiet down, let's do a check before we start the movie" Mark said, standing up.

"Alright all eight of us are here. Now for the snacks. Chips?" "Got it" Jisung replied.

"sodas" "check" Chenle said.

"Candies?" "Gotchu" Jaemin replied.

"Bagel bites?" Renjun did a finger gun,

"Popcorn?" "I have them!" you answer.

"Who's going to prepare ramen once we run out of pizza?" "I thought we already decided that would be me" Haechan replied from beside you, cat still in his hand.

"And me, Jeno and Jaemin are the one's paying for the pizza! Okay we're all set" Mark ended, passing the remote to you, pressing the start button. 

The movie started, everyone was indulged in the movie, the only sounds made being from speakers and that of pop cans, and other snacks..and Haechan's murmuring. 

He'd been the only one not paying attention to the screen, rubbing bubbles' stomach, scratching her fur, and even cuddling up to her to keep her warm. His excuse 'I've already watched the movie five times, and bubblebutt is way cuter than toothless'

Alright then so be it, play with the cat but he could've done it quieter. But no. 

"bubblebutt~" 

"bubble bubble bubblebuttt"

"bubble bath, bubblebutt-" "Haechan shush" you hush him in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the others.

"What? OH LOOK HICCUP'S WINNING" Haechan exclaimed as the others cheered along. It went on quiet for a while. But Haechan and quiet can never belong in the same sentence. 

"bubbles. Bubblebutt, definitely cuter"

"It even rolls out the tongue smoother, bubblebutt"

"bubblebutt, bubblebutt, don't worry, your butt will be bubblier once you grow bigger" he poked the poor cat's butt, to which she snarled, settling back in calmly as Haechan gave her scratches. 

"Bubblebuttttttt~" he sang out. 

"Haechan stop it" you whine, not being able to concentrate on the movie due to the constant buzzing sound coming from your boyfriends end

"Oh this? Bubblebutt, bubble bubble bubblebut, does this annoy you, princess?" he said, carrying the cat in his arms and hitting you softly with her. 

"Babe, i mean it, just. Stop. " you say trying not to scream. But he kept going, that's Lee Haechan. 

"Bubblebutt"

"stop"

Bubblebutt."

"Lee Haechan."

"bubbleee.. Butt?"

"Haechan I mean it, quit it. Now"

"How about a bubble. Bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble bubble but-"

"Jesus can you quit it?!" you scream out, finally losing your shit, as the boy beside you burst into a fit of laughter. 

The movie was paused, god bless, Jisung's soul. You take the cat gently from Haechan's hold, handing it over to Jaemin, who sat beside you, snickering the entire time.

"Lee Haechan you asked for it" you jump at him with your fist up in the air as the boy screeched out loud. 

"Ah shit, there they go again"

Winter Whumperland Day 8: Lucky

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 8. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 7 'Delirium'. There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Toothless, Ryker, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Obsessive whumper”

Whumpee: Hiccup (and Toothless in a way)

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be up already, but I got very distracted by Attack on Titan. I finished my rewatch and I had 3 episodes of season 4 that I needed to catch up on and then I got very distracted by the reactors I follow that I know watch this show, too.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

It's late when he returns home from work. He's completely drained after being on his feet all day and when he steps in through the front door, what he longs for most is to kick off his shoes and prosthetic and crash onto the couch.

Someone has other ideas, as he can tell by the stomping footsteps coming up from behind him as he closes the front door.

They halt, one slipper tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor, and Hiccup knows he's in trouble. He slowly turns to see one furious Astrid Hofferson.

She'd come the second she heard the door open and she'd jumped off the couch to catch him and block his way to the living room. Her blonde hair is undone and lays comfortably on her shoulder.

"Uh, good evening? Milady?" He greets her hesitantly, deciding that a polite approach is probably a better idea than a sassy one.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to clock out two hours ago!" Astrid crosses her arms, a hip out, and awaits a good excuse. He hasn't even called her to let her know that he would be later or anything!

Hiccup puffs out a nervous breath as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to tell her. Upon seeing this, Astrid lets out an agitated sigh, reeling with her boyfriend's thoughtless decision-making.

"Viggo again?" She asks with a hard tone and he knows there is no denying it. Besides, she'd know if he was lying. So he nods honestly instead and she's already throwing her hands up.

"He came by at the coffee shop for a game of chess and I thought I'd entertain him for a little while!" Hiccup hurriedly replies, already imagining Astrid's disappointment in him.

"For two whole hours?!" Her voice raises, she's not too impressed.

"Ugh, yeah..."

"Hiccup, I can't believe you!" She expresses her disbelief before turning on her heels to return to the living room.

"He's obviously a lonely man, Astrid! He just wants some company and a listening ear once in a while!" He tries to reason with her as he follows her to the other room, where Snotlout is sitting on the couch.

Viggo just comes across as a lonely man to him. No partner, no kids, no friends outside of business, and a brother he rarely sees eye to eye with. It makes him want to take at least a few minutes out of his time to spend on him.

"Once in a while, he comes by almost every day, Hiccup! Today, he swallowed up two hours of your time! And after work, too!" Halting before the television, Astrid spins on her heels again to face Hiccup. "Hiccup Haddock, I know you're not a pushover, but somehow this guy gets you to let him walk all over you."

Snotlout should be annoyed that he can no longer watch the tv, the bickering couple interrupting his watch, but that matters little to him

"Heh, Viggo again, Hiccup?" He asks, finding amusement in that fact.

"You know, Hiccup, if you'd rather spend time with some lonely middle-aged dude then your own girlfriend, maybe you should go hook up with him. We'll question your kinks and tastes, though." He adds with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Snot." The couple tells him and Hiccup sighs afterward, awkwardly moving from one foot to another once more. He's tired and his leg hurts and he doesn't like fighting with Astrid. And to make matters worse, he has some news, too. It's not bad news, but he wonders if it'll be received well after Astrid's reaction.

She stands there, fuming, and she probably has plenty of reason to be. His not calling her to let her know where he's at, spending his after work hours with someone who is a virtual stranger to her, who is a creep in her eyes, pushing his own needs aside for someone who clearly has no eye out for his, ... Yup, plenty of reasons. And he might just be about to make it worse.

"Also... I won't be able to sleep here tonight." But it's better to just come out and sat it, so he tells her, his arms crossing.

"And why is that?" Astrid asks, not too pleased. It's Friday evening, she'd hoped to spend at least a little bit of time with him. You know, the time Viggo hasn't selfishly taken for himself yet.

"Well, Toothless came to find me again. I saw him sitting on the rooftop when I got back and... Well, see for yourself." Hiccup gestures towards a rather large window on one side of the room and Snotlout and Astrid look over to find the Night Fury there, watching them through the glass. He's sitting on the fire escape and looks very much like a cat expecting to be let in.

Finally seen, he yowls, wondering what's taking them so long. Hiccup has known all along that he's there, why is he making him wait?

"Oh, the neighbors are going to love this." Astrid groans, cringing at the sound. Snotlout covers his ears.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, which is why I'm dropping off my uniform and going back downstairs to meet him. I'll fly him back to the sanctuary and spent the night at my mom's because I'm-"

"Dead tired from all the work you've done? With a prosthetic?" Astrid cuts him off as she finishes his sentence for him. It's not like she thinks he can't do the same work someone else can, but Hiccup's reality is that standing on his feet all day will make him more exhausted than it would make an abled person. Astrid is aware of this, she just wishes Hiccup would be a little more self-aware from time to time.

Mouth still open, Hiccup stares at her for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, that. But anyway, I'll let you know in the morning if I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday evening." He lets her and Snotlout know before heading over to the bedroom he shares with Astrid.

He's been holding the uniform in his hands. It consists of a dark brown apron and a little hat that feels like paper, though they're all pretty sure it's not made out of paper. He hangs them both up on the coatrack hanging from their bedroom door.

When he comes back into the living room, Astrid is standing before him again.

"Okay, but I doubt he brought a saddle, so will you at least be careful?" She asks of him, still exasperated, but him spending time with Toothless is far better than the alternative, which is the middle-aged man seemingly clinging to a young adult. A young adult who isn't quite 20 yet, no less.

"Of course, Milady, when am I not?" Hiccup asks her with a smile, feeling like they are on slightly better terms now. He'll make it up to her somehow, he doesn't want her feeling like she comes second to some guy he's only known for a few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Astrid comes over and plants her lips on his for a kiss. They don't have any space in their home for a dragon as big as a Night Fury. So, unfortunately, she has no other choice but to let him go. Hiccup returns it wholeheartedly, heart skipping a beat in joy. When does she not make him happy?

When they pull away, Astrid pulls on his hoodie, straightening it out.

"Are you sure that's warm enough for the trip?" She asks him, knowing he gets cold easily. He's about the only person she knows who can still wear long sleeves in the summer. The amount of layers this man needs to get through the colder months is insane.

"I think I'll manage."

"That's not a good answer, Haddock, and you know that."

Snotlout groans in the background at seeing the affection, head rolling back, but they mostly ignore him. So he groans louder on purpose.

"How can I stand living with you two?" He questions when they look over, neither too happy with his interruption.

Toothless yowls again outside and someone shouts at "the big cat" to be quiet.

"Geez, impatient much?" Hiccup mutters under his breath and gestures to his dragon to get down from the fire escape. He should get going before Toothless gets them all kicked out of here.

"Again, be careful. And oh, don't forget to call when you arrive and tell your mom we said "hi"." Astrid quickly says as Hiccup heads for the door.

"I will! I'll see you guys later, Snotlout, Milady." At that last one, he shoots Astrid a quick smile.

Snotlout lets his head roll back again and-

"If you groan one more time, it's off to bed with you."

It takes a quick ride on the elevator down, but Hiccup is outside soon enough. It's summer and that means the air is cooler then it is during the day, but not quite cool enough. Even so, Hiccup pulls on his hoodie to cover as much of his collarbone and neck as it can before he looks up towards the top of the building.

"Bud?!" He calls out excitedly, expecting to be tackled by a dragon much bigger and much heavier than him in the next few seconds. He's bracing himself, it could come from any direction...

But instead, there is no response.

Strange.

"Bud!" Hiccup calls out again, didn't he hear him the first time? Dragons of his kind usually have a good hearing. Or he ignoring his calls? Making him wait because it's been so long since he's come by for a visit? He hates admitting it, but work has been kicking his ass. It's hard to do anything on most days and even during most weekends he finds himself in need of the mere two days of rest he can get.

"It's because you haven't worked a day in your life, son, you'll get used to it." Hiccup can hear his father say in his head and he can still feel the need to roll his eyes. He's worked! At the sanctuary and only what he was allowed to do, but he's done stuff before!

"Toothless?!" Moving from the sidewalk to between two parked cars to hopefully get a better view of the roof, Hiccup tries again, but gets no answer this time either. He was hoping to at least see some earfins pop up by now.

"Really, Toothless? Is this the time to play hide and seek?" Hiccup mutters to himself. He knows his dragon misses him terribly when they're not together, he misses him, too, but now's not the time. He's tired and he would like to fly back to the sanctuary already.

Checking the road behind him and finding the street empty for the moment, Hiccup cautiously takes another step or two back. In this part of the city, people usually don't drive as fast as they can in the busier parts. And at this hour, not too many cars come by either.

"Toothless, seriously?!" He calls up again, keeping a careful eye and ear out on either side of him. Don't tell him he's stuck on the fire escape again.

"Are you stuck?! Do I need to come get you?!" Hiccup asks, never losing sight of the street he's on. It's still quiet so far, no approaching lights, no roaring engines.

Finally, Toothless calls back to him and the call sounds far, so he must still be in the fire escape after all. Sighing, Hiccup figures he may as well look.

It's at that moment, probably by pure dumb luck, that a dark car with no plates and tinted windows comes speeding from around the corner.

Driving at speeds way, way above the limit, the car can't possibly be avoided. Hiccup sees it coming, has only seconds to stare into the blinding headlights as they come too fast, and there's nothing he can do but get hit.

The front of the vehicle hits his right side with full force first and he ends up on the hood for a brief moment. It all happens so fast, before long he rolls onto the pavement and is left to lie there on the ground. The collision broke some of his ribs, hurt his hip, dislocated his bad knee, bruised his wrists, scraped him all over, and he'll be a lucky man if that is all a hit from such speeds leaves him with.

Body hurting and unable to move, all Hiccup can do is groan. He can't get up like this. Who and why would just run him over like this? His head hurts, he must've knocked it on the ground.

After the hit, the car screeches to a halt and a man steps out. When he comes over, Hiccup can't see who it is, can barely turn his head to the approaching footsteps. When he tries, another pained groan leaves him. He can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Everything is too much for his aching head, too much to process. He's on the verge of passing out, it's becoming black before his eyes.

The man who mowed him down stands over him. Hiccup can't see his face, but if he could, he'd see the satisfied look of another job well done. He's grabbed by his arms and pulled towards the car. Hiccup cringes at the unnecessary additional abuse his body must endure.

"W-wait... What're you... Why?" He can't struggle against him, can't keep the man from dragging him towards the car, it's taking him everything not to pass out.

When they reach the car, the trunk is opened and Hiccup is picked up and unceremoniously dropped inside. His body is in agony and he would've shouted if his ribs allowed it, but his apparent kidnapper doesn't seem to care much. If anything, he huffs and the trunk closes, bathing Hiccup in darkness.

What just happened to him? For whatever reason, whether it be the shock or the pain, he still can't move.

While this is happening, Toothless is, indeed, stuck. A fire escape isn't meant for dragons, let alone a dragon his size, nothing in a city is. This is a place for humans, which is why he thought to drag Hiccup back home himself. He wasn't coming of his own volition, so Toothless had to come and see what was taking him so long. But when he gets up to meet with his friend, he finds his tail to be stuck in the railing.

It's a hindrance and it's more annoying than a real problem. He can solve this without needing Hiccup's help, he just needs to be careful not to damage the replacement tailfin he so carefully crafted for him.

Murring impatiently as he tries to find the right angle to do this from, Astrid and Snotlout are watching him from the window, both concerned. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Astrid mouth something and she's gesturing in a way that's supposed to be helping him, but he doesn't quite get it. He's only half-looking, too.

On the other side of the building, Hiccup is calling for him and Toothless calls back once to tell him he's still coming. He just needs to be a little more patient and then he'll be there.

But then he hears a screeching that sounds like a noise one of those large metal contraptions the humans ride on would make. It's an awful sound to his ears, but not as alarming as the noise of a heavy thing hitting something not even a quarter of that thing's weight. And all of that is followed by a noise of pain Toothless is all too familiar with.

Was that Hiccup? Is someone hurting him?

Toothless knows that he needs to see what's happening and he all but tears himself free, the carefully refined leather hooking onto something metal sticking out and ripping. He hurries up the rest of the fire escape up on the roof, climbing the outside expertly like only a cat of his size and strength can, he'll be able to see more from there.

A disability has only affected his speed and agility so much, Hiccup can largely be thanked for that. As someone who is missing a leg, he knows a thing or two about loss. He reaches the roof quickly and he thinks to check the front of the building first, where the noises came from. What he sees confuses him, however.

There's a human male taking his friend and putting him in the back of that metal deathtrap.

His knowledge of humans and their strange behaviors only goes so far and he doesn't know what the intention here is, just that he doesn't like it. This screams "bad" to him and he growls in anger, claws scraping on the bricked walls. Someone is taking his rider away.

The male then gets into the "car", as they're called, and he can hear it revving to life. That's when Toothless knows it's now or never.

He's a Night Fury, leaping off tall things isn't anything new to him, so he takes a chance. He doesn't yet realize that his prosthetic tailfin is torn and that it will hinder him greatly in his pursuit. He wants to land on the vehicle itself, scare the driver, rip him out, and then get Hiccup out. His mate and that small friend of his are in their communal den. If he's loud enough, he can get them to come down and see. In the meantime, he can make sure the bigger male can't touch the car again and that he's too incapacitated to get away, too.

That's the plan, thought up in a matter of a second or two and he commits to it, he takes the leap. Except with a rip in his tailfin and the car moving away at the same time, all Toothless manages to do is scratch up the back and take the rear bumper right off.

Inside the trunk, Hiccup is almost startled to full alertness with his dragon's claws scraping above him and taking a part of the vehicle with him. There's a man's muffled cursing and what a mouth he has on him.

It takes Toothless a second too long to realize that he's holding just a piece of the car instead of the whole thing.

Did he just fail? A Night Fury isn't supposed to fail, if anything, they're supposed to be the pride of dragons! And he just failed his human?

He looks behind him, sees the tear in the cloth Hiccup made for him. He's lost his advantage and now he can't fly after the car either! He wished he'd jumped on time instead of too late, wished he'd thought to jump in front of it, too! If he'd just aimed right, he would've landed on the car instead of just snatching the rear bumper.

All that's left for him now is to chase. He's still plenty fast on the ground, he can leap, he'll find some other way to stop the damn thing. A plasma blast will land him in serious trouble, but that's not even high on the number of things he's willing to do to get Hiccup back.

They're not far, he can still see them.

But then another car comes from around the corner. They aren't driving particularly fast, but finding a dragon in your path is a startling thing and Toothless is startled in return. They almost block his path, nearly driving into the car parked nearby. Then a second comes and a third and they all screech to a halt, honking and yelling in surprise. They do nothing but hinder him in a city that's already too loud and unwelcoming and chaotic for a dragon.

Toothless has to evade them, doing whatever he can to just not get accidentally hit as he chases after his friend. He jumps onto a parked car, trying to spot the one that took Hiccup.

It's nowhere to be found.

Hiccup can hear it as he slips away, the miserable cries of a dragon in distress with cars honking in the distance, both deafeningly loud.

"I'm here, Bud, I'm... I'm here..." His words of reassurance fade as he falls unconscious, losing the fight to stay awake.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain. That's what Hiccup wakes up to hours later. An immeasurable amount of pain and the inability to breathe properly as his ribs are keeping him from it.

He groans miserably, feeling awful after someone came speeding down a relatively calm street to run him over. His head is a little slow in catching up on the events that landed him in this situation, but his body has a great memory. He hurts so much, there isn't a part of him that isn't in agony.

There are voices and an unfamiliar hand lays itself on his forehead. Is he in the hospital? Is there are a doctor or a nurse checking up on him? Oh, can they please give him something for the pain? He woke up only moments ago and he wants so desperately for it to end.

"You wanted him, now here he is." One of the voices breaks through the haze in his mind, the first words he's managing to register so far. Why does his head pound? Why is everything pounding?

He remembers headlights.

"And you felt like you had to run him over, did you?" Run over who? Can either of these two give him something to kill the pain? Or an explanation would be nice, too.

He groans louder, hoping to ask for help, but no coherent words leave him. That hand is in his hair now. Care is nice and all, but it would be much nicer if they could pick up on what he's trying to beg for here.

"You could've killed him on the spot! He might even still succumb to his injuries." No wait, that voice is familiar to him. The other one he doesn't recognize, but this one rings a vague bell. Hiccup has to open his eyes and take a look.

"Don't get my hopes up."

There are two men that he can see through a blurred vision and a dim light that's still a nightmare on his headache. He can't recognize one of them.

The other one, however...

"V...Vi... ggo?" Hiccup asks, voice hoarse. It's the first word that he manages to croak out. What's he doing in the hospital with him? Now that he thinks of it, where is Astrid? Snotlout? He can't remember if Fishlegs and the twins were home.

An image of Toothless flashes before his mind. He was there, wasn't he? Where is he now?

"you're awake, good, I was starting to worry," Viggo tells him, looking down at him with a look that isn't quite as caring as those words would suggest.

Hiccup blinks slowly in surprise.

"Where... What are you doing here? Where am I? Toothless is... What happened?" The questions are slow to leave him, but he's starting to catch up a little. He's not quite as awake as he needs to be yet. Why is this room so dim? Aren't hospital lights usually so annoyingly bright?

He wants to sit up or readjust somehow, feeling too uncomfortable with everything his body is going through. But though he tries, he only ends up worsening the pain in his right side tremendously. Whatever little progress he may have made is undone when he's forced to lie down again. His left knee hurts, did he dislocate it again?

This bed is so uncomfortable and lumpy, is this mattress even from this century anymore?

But the pain wakes him up at least and he can grasp the sort of troubling situation he's suddenly in a little more now.

This isn't the hospital.

He doesn't know what room he's in, but he can see that the little light bulb on the ceiling is bare and the only light source in this place, that the walls are brick, and the floor is made of concrete. If it weren't for the lack of storage space, he'd think that this is a basement, but that couldn't be it, right? He can't just be in someone's basement! He notices there's a ridiculously tiny bathroom off to the side, which at least looks clean.

What Hiccup's lying on is, indeed, a bed and his painful wrists are cuffed to the sides. If he wants to pull at them, he can try once or twice, but after that, they won't allow any more attempts.

Realization comes and panic sets in.

He's been kidnapped.

"Wh-what... What?!" He can't comprehend it, his thoughts and heart racing and struggling to keep up. Hyperventilating and very quickly unable to breathe at all, the rapid pace cannot mix with his broken ribs.

Did Viggo do this to him? Why would he do something like this?! Why would he hit him with a car and take him from his home?!

"Hiccup, calm yourself!" Viggo takes his shoulders and, honestly, how can he expect Hiccup not to freak out when he's been kidnapped?!

Oh Gods, Astrid was right. She was right, Viggo was bad from the start. And he's the idiot who walked right into another trap. Why does he keep getting himself into trouble like this?

Oh no, and what of his Bud? He definitely remembers his dragon being there when he was taken, what happened to him? What could've possibly happened to him?

"No... No! T-Tooth... Tooth?!" He doesn't have the air to ask, his lungs and his ribs in a fierce battle for whose needs need to be met first. They both burn.

"Hiccup, I implore you to calm!" Despite Viggo's best attempts, Hiccup doesn't listen to him, too much in a panic. If this goes on, he'll lose him before he can even start molding him to his perfect partner.

"That's never going to work, Viggo. You know there's only one solution to this." The other man, the stranger, states as he pushes him aside. A soaked cloth is pressed to Hiccup's nose and mouth, the sedative wetting it is breathed in immediately with his fast breathing and it takes its hold just as fast.

A different kind of haze settles in his mind, he's feeling woozy. It works quicker than he can realize he's being knocked out. He's going under, his breathing evening out, and his last thoughts wonders about his friends.

ok but i just saw this AU "My incredibly stupid cat just jumped out of my apartment window after a bird and you caught her in your arms like a baby and looked up, stared me dead in the eye and said "I think you dropped something" and this is geraskier y/y? :D?

Yes! Yes I love this so much! So much that I accidentally wrote five pages about it!

Please enjoy :D It is also here on ao3.

(Also please pardon the no beta, I will come back and edit this but I got excited and wanted to post it!!)

Also also- The song I quote is a real Ren Faire song and is pretty fucking funny if you’re into that kind of thing.

Also also also- Holy shit I am the kind of nerd that will spend two hours researching 500+ year old slang for pussy because I wanted to make a throwaway joke in a fic.

And finally: Yes! I am willing to write more of this if enough people are into it. :) Let me know!

~♡♡♡~

Jaskier threw his leg up on the couch, strumming his lute and singing his heart out. He had just gotten his first shitty apartment for the summer between college semesters, and he was massively behind on practicing for the Faire. August was only a month and a half a way, and he had at least twenty more songs to memorize into his repertoire. It was his first summer as an adult, and he’d finally been allowed to act as one of the wandering bards. 

If all of the girls were bells in a tower

And I was a clapper, I'd bang one each hour

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all of the girls were fish in the ocean

And I was a wave I would teach them the motion.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

The young bard-to-be resumed striding around the room, practicing his struts and flourishes. Nothing less than perfection would do. If he didn’t impress the first week, he would be relegated back to the fairy chorus again, and the fucking leggings itched in the August heat. 

If all of the girls were little white rabbits

And I was a hare, I would teach them bad habits.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all them young ladies was up for improvement.

I'd give them some help with a ball-bearing movement.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

As he paced back and forth, he tossed his head to throw a sweat-sticky curl of hair off of his forehead. The merciless summer heat had started early this year, and by June it was in full swing. The windows of his little apartment were wide open, and a standing fan was turning back and forth, stirring lazy eddies in the arid air. Nearby, his elderly cat grey cat, Pipkin, lazed in the cool shadow of the table. 

If all them young ladies was little white kittens

And I was the tom cat, I'd give them new fittin's 

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over-

As he spun with particular exuberance, he landed wrong and staggered onto the cat’s tail. Flailing backwards, Jaskier flew one way and the cat flew another. He hit the floor near the ratty couch with a crash, all the breath rushing out of his lungs. Nearby he heard a ‘bang!’ and then a howl of fury and fear as the ancient screen gave way under her considerable weight. Jaskier’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Pipkin!” He screamed, scrambling over to the window and looking frantically downward. As he scanned the sidewalk for his cat, he saw a man with white hair and golden eyes staring up at him. His hammering heart did a complicated skip as the man locked eyes with him and smirked, gesturing with something in his arms. 

“I think you dropped something,” he called up, his voice a gravelly baritone. In his arms was Pipkin, who had such a look of shock on her face that it was almost comical. 

Despite his terror, Jaskier gave a slightly hysterical titter. Oh shit, it was his drop-dead gorgeous neighbor. “I can’t believe you caught her. Oh Melitele, thank you!” No such goddess existed anymore, but in his upset he had forgotten to drop out of character and used the ancient name. 

Below him, his neighbor’s eyebrows went up. “It’s fine,” he said, but he sounded a little thrown. The cat, recovering from her shock, began to struggle in his arms. She gave a surprisingly deep snarl for such a tiny animal. Lashing out, she spat at her rescuer and tried to claw him. Dodging easily, he fixed his eyes on the little animal and gestured in the air above her. “Hush,” he said, though Jaskier could barely hear him. With a slow blink, the little cat settled down in his arms. 

Jaskier gaped at this exchange from above. When the stranger’s compelling golden eyes returned to him, it sparked him suddenly back into motion. “Sweet goddess are you ok?” Leaning out of the window, he peered down at Pipkin. “Pipkin, you be good! What is wrong with you?! I’ll be right down.”

The big man holding his cat smiled a slow smile, shaking his head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d better bring her up to you. She’s not going to be very happy when I let her go.” 

Jaskier blinked at him, puffed, and then nodded. He wasn’t expecting guests and his apartment was a mess, but he imagined his neighbor was right. It was odd to see her so quiet, though. Feeling a stir of unease, he called, “Okay! I’m in 503!”

“I know,” the white-haired man replied with a crooked grin. He walked around the side of the building to the entryway and vanished out of sight. 

Struck by a sudden panic, Jaskier slammed the window closed and flew away from it. He began frantically cleaning his apartment. Pizza boxes in the trash, empty soda cans in the recycling, oh sweet goddess his socks were everywhere. “Why am I like this?!” He groaned, running a pile of dirty laundry across the apartment and flinging it into his bedroom.

He’d watched his blisteringly hot neighbor move in less than a month ago to the apartment next door, and since then had become a little obsessed. Not only was he gorgeous, he had some weird habits. He kept odd hours. Sometimes he’d leave around twilight one evening and not show up until noon next day, limping into his apartment with a long, dark jacket on, even in the heat of summer. Others, he’d be out at dawn with a large pack of some sort on his back. Then he’d come back in the middle of the day, looking like ten miles of bad road. Sometimes Jaskier could swear there was blood on the carpet, but every time he’d go back to look later, it had vanished- scrubbed away, or never there?  

He never seemed to mind the noise Jaskier made, either. While other philistines railed at his 3 AM renditions of “Roll Your Leg Over,” banging on the floor and wall of his apartment. On one memorable occasion, they had even sent an exasperated police officer to bang on his door. Never the white-haired stranger, though, no matter how loud he was being. 

Just then, knocking interrupted his frantic cleaning. Dropping the lute onto the couch and swearing, Jaskier ran to answer the door. It was only after he had flung the door wide and the white-haired man had stepped inside that he realized he was still only in his boxers. Mortified, he froze to the floor as his neighbor slipped around him and punted the door shut with his foot. He hadn’t even cleared away all of the empty soda bottles, and he’d forgotten his pants.

The big man glanced at him as he entered and smirked. Cradled in his arms, no doubt getting his black jacket all furry, was Pipkin. She had a vague, dazed expression on her face, but her tail swished calmly as he turned to close the door. When he released her on the floor however, some sort of spell seemed to break. She blinked, spun around yowling, and whacked the man’s thick calf-high leather boot three times in quick succession. Then she sprinted away into the recesses of Jaskier’s apartment, vanishing in a trice. 

“Pipkin!” Jaskier gasped, the shock of seeing his usually friendly cat smack the man jarring him into motion. “I am, so sorry,” he quavered, grabbing a yellow, furry jacket off of the coat hook near the door and wrapping it self-consciously around his waist. “She’s normally very sweet, I promise. Are you all right?!” He looked down at the unharmed boot and back up into shocking golden eyes, bright and intelligent, glittering with amusement. 

“I’m fine,” the stranger drawled, removing silver-studded black leather gloves and putting them into his jacket pocket. Closer up, it was possible to see that he carried something bulky under the black duster, strapped to his back. What it was, however, was unclear. 

“That’s… that’s good, I’m glad to hear it,” Jaskier bubbled awkwardly, at a loss. He couldn’t just bolt for his trousers without introducing himself first, but he didn’t want to introduce himself without trousers. Dithering, he clutched the jacket to his waist and stared with wide blue eyes at the black-clad vision in front of him. Tall, white hair, long black jacket, some sort of… was that biker’s gear? The pants appeared to be leather with thick plates sewn into them, perhaps to protect from road rash. He also had some sort of sturdy leather vest or something peeking through the opening of his jacket. A tingle raced across the back of Jaskier’s arms. Whatever he was, this was no normal neighbor. 

“Want to go grab some pants?” A dry voice cut through his dithering. “I’ll wait.” Bright eyes tracked across the fluffy yellow jacket, the smirk widening slightly. 

“Oh thank you,” Jaskier gasped, fleeing before he even had a chance to think. “I’ll be right back!” he called over his shoulder, vanishing into his bedroom. He blindly grabbed for the first pair of pants he could find in his drawer and staggered into them. They were a pair of high-waisted blue trousers that tied at the back- part of one of his Faire outfits. 

Then he peeked under the bed for Pipkin, who he found in the closet. She was hiding in an empty shoe box, and emitted a peevish growl when he gently fished her out, cooing softly to her to calm her. Once he had satisfied himself that the struggling creature was uninjured, he gently returned her to her nest. Then, too flustered to grab a shirt, Jaskier bounced back out into the living room.

His guest greeted his return with a slightly stricken look, though it was hidden quickly behind a look of guarded amusement. He eyed Jaskier up and down, taking in the thatch of chest hair, the bare feet, the blue trousers. “Cat ok?” He asked, his voice a deep, pleasantly gravelly baritone. 

“She’s fine,” Jaskier shuffled awkwardly, then stuck his hand out. “Thank you so much for being there to catch her. Um. Gosh, I wish I’d met you under better circumstances, you’re really um… I mean.” He stopped, swallowed, catching his breath and reeling himself back in. “My name is Jaskier, it’s nice to meet you.”

The man eyed his hand for a moment that was slightly longer than Jaskier was actually comfortable with, before grasping it firmly. “Geralt,” he introduced himself. “Geralt z Rivii.” 

His hand was warm and held a truly surprising amount of strength; Jaskier very rarely felt someone deliberately being gentle with him, but he could tell the big man could crush his fingers like bird bones if he wanted to. It made Jaskier’s bones feel like they were melting like butter, to feel that strength. “Wow…” he said, eyes wide, then mentally kicked himself. “I mean, uh. Nice to meet you,” he burbled, before trailing off awkwardly into silence, kicking himself the entire time for sounding like an idiot. 

The corners of Geralt’s eyes crinkled as he squeezed Jaskier’s hand delicately. “Nice to meet you too.” Turning, he scanned the apartment, his expression unreadable. “Why did you name your cat Pipkin? That’s… an unusual choice.” 

“Uh… Well, funny story…” Jaskier blushed. Normally, he loved telling this story, but somehow it seems silly and small under that bright gaze. “It’s sort of a play on words. People call their cats ‘pussy,’ so I named her… uh… another word for pussy. An old word. Pipkin.” Damn. He hadn’t even managed to make it funny this time. 

“That joke’s more than five hundred years out of date,” Geralt noted, tipping his head to the side and fixing him with a warm, amused look. 

“How- How do you know that?” Jaskier sputtered, astonished. The slang was from the 17th century, no one outside certain academic circles had any business knowing that. “Are you… do you do the Faire?”

Shifting the pack on his back, which concealed two swords- one silver, and one steel, Geralt snorted. “I really don’t.” 

day 06 - enemies

i am superman, and i know what’s happenin’

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

“AND he keeps making these infuriating jokes that aren't even that funny!"

Marinette huffs as she takes a box of camembert to put in the freezer. She spares her partner a passing glance of confusion, before raising it up. "I thought we agreed that we should start buying less of these?"

Adrien grins, somewhat nervously, as he takes the box from her hands. "What can I say? I just love my cheese!"

"But why this kind? It's expensive," Marinette rebuts, shaking her head. "And it smells gross. I just don't get why you like them that much." She leans toward him and pinches her nose, scrunching it in evident distaste. "See, you're starting to smell already!"

"It's not that bad," Adrien tries to reason with her, surprisingly undaunted by the scent beginning to fill the room. Marinette briefly wonders how he manages to keep a straight face the whole time, but decides that it's just one of those strange quirks of his that she hadn't known about until they moved in together.

(Other traits which fell under that list included his tendency to nap a lot, his frequency to disappear at random moments in time, and most of all, his extremely weird habit of acting like a cat, especially when he wasn't aware of it— something Marinette would honestly find adorable if it didn't remind her so much of a certain someone that got on her nerves almost a hundred percent of the time.)

Marinette sighs to herself, finally nodding in defeat. "Fine," she finally mutters. "But you're showering before you come to bed, okay?"

Adrien nods enthusiastically, putting the camembert down to suddenly grab her by the waist and press a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, Mari."

Fortunately, after years of being together, Marinette's learned how not to explode into scarlet whenever he shows even the barest minimum of affection.

Doesn't stop the light blush that dusts her cheeks afterward, though.

"So you were talking about this workmate of yours?" Adrien finally asks, as Marinette feels the anger rush back in her veins. She bites her cheek, then exhaustedly runs a hand through her hair.

"It's just… I don't get him at all!" Marinette whines. "It feels like the purpose of his whole existence is to make mine as inconvenient as possible. And it's not just me that he's bothering, it's everyone! How cruel do you have to be to actively play a part in trying to make everyone's lives miserable?"

Adrien hugs her closer to him, putting his chin atop her head. "Sounds like a pain."

"You have no idea," she mumbles. "Chat — I mean, whenever we chat, it's like everything he says is just to spite me! He keeps making jokes whenever we meet and they're not even that clever!"

"I don't understand why you don't just quit then," Adrien finally says, after a long pause. "We're earning enough money, so I don't know why you took on this extra job in the first place."

"It's not like I don't want to quit!" Marinette tries to protest, before immediately shutting up as the words leave her mouth. "I just… can't," she finally confesses. "And it's not like you can talk. You have your mysterious extra work too."

Adrien laughs. "I have to pay for that camembert somehow, right?"

"That sounds like a problem that could be easily fixed if you just stopped buying it," Marinette points out, as she starts to giggle herself. "How's work, anyway? That co-worker of yours still bothering you?"

At that point, it's Adrien's turn to heave a sigh of exhaustion. "Bothering is too small to describe what she's doing to me," he says, and though she can't see it, Marinette can practically imagine the annoyed expression on his face. "She keeps ruining all my plans! Things I've spent so much time trying to perfect, she ends up destroying just like that!"

"That's awful," Marinette frowns, hugging him closer. "I can't believe anyone would actually do that? How is anyone okay with what she's doing to you!?"

"Actually, a lot of people are on her side," Adrien replies, a tone of evident distaste dripping from his tongue. "But they just don't know better, and I can't blame them for that. It's just… I've tried explaining to her what I've been doing, and she still insists that I'm in the wrong!"

With that, Adrien lets her go, walking over to the counter as he combs back his hair in stress. Marinette quickly moves next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and linking their hands together. "Well, I'm sure they'll find out the truth someday," she finally says. "And for now, I'm glad you're doing what's right." She looks up at him, then presses a shy kiss to his cheek. "My personal superhero."

"Who needs Ladybug, right?" Adrien teases.

"Believe me when I say she's not all that," Marinette laughs, as if it were an inside joke. (And it was; Adrien just didn't know the punchline). "So what do you say that we stop thinking about people who aren't worth our time, and spend time with people that do? Let's have lunch together, tomorrow?"

Adrien looks down at their linked hands, then beams at her proposition. "I love you, Marinette."

She's practically glowing. "I love you too!"

.

.

"I never thought I could hate anyone until I met you."

"Aw, milady, I'm flattered that you've thought of me!"

Ladybug seethes as Chat Noir easily dodges her attacks, at some point even yawning just to spite her. She attempts to lunge at him, only for the latter to press his baton and jump to another building. "I'm not that attracted to girls throwing themselves at me, sorry!"

"Please, like I'd ever throw myself at you." She scoffs, quickly making chase as he runs away from her grasp. "And I doubt you've had any girl actually have a crush on you."

"I was actually pretty popular in my day!" Chat Noir shouts back, leaping over the rooftops of random civilians. "Even have a steady girlfriend now, if you could believe it!"

"How unlucky."

"For you?"

Ladybug rolls her eyes. "For the girl."

"What about you, then?" Chat Noir begins to ask, looking back at the irritated superheroine. "Are you going to go ahead and ruin this unmistakable chemistry between us?"

"What chemistry? If anything, our relationship's best described as toxic." She points dryly, before hooking her yoyo to one of the taller buildings, pulling herself over and suddenly appearing before him. Ladybug quickly sticks her leg outward, and before Chat Noir can make sense of what's happening, trips him over as he's sent tumbling over to one of the rooftops.

As she stands over him, victorious, Ladybug speaks: "And I have a boyfriend."

Chat Noir only smirks.

"My condolences to the guy."

Then he shouts cataclysm!, as the floor below them breaks into pieces, as Ladybug's sent tumbling down while Chat Noir uses the baton to keep himself in the air, as he gracefully lands onto the next building. She tries to jump over, realizing only a little too late that her leg's caught in the wires.

He offers her a catlike grin. "You know, we'd be unstoppable if you just joined me! We'd be a purrfect team."

"I'll never join the side of evil!"

"And as I've told you before, I'm not evil," Chat Noir shouts back at her, shaking his head. "Do you ever listen to me?"

"There's no way that you can persuade me of that." Ladybug only responds, then gestures to the destroyed architecture around her. "You just destroyed a whole building! People could've gotten hurt!"

"Don't you mean purrsuasion?" Chat Noir teases. "Besides, this building was empty. It's a hub for illegal activity at night, so nobody's here in the morning. And now, criminals have nowhere to do their shady dealings. I honestly think I did you a favor!"

"You must be extremely simple if you think that would stop criminals from acting," Ladybug says, rubbing at her forehead. "Besides, aren't they your comrades or something?"

"Me!? Please, I work alone," Chat Noir points out. "And I'd never stoop down to their level."

"Destroying property and scaring the people of Paris not that bad for you, then?"

"Believe me, I could be doing much worse."

"But you're not!"

Chat Noir sighs. "Just know that I'm doing my best in my own way," he shrugs. "And you don't have to believe me." The sudden beep of his phone distracts the conversation. "But for now, I have to go."

"Wait, Chat Noir—"

"Until next time, milady!" He winks. "It was pawsitevely a pleasure to see you again."

"Don't you dare leave, we're not finished—"

"Bye!"

When Ladybug finally manages to free herself, Chat Noir's already gone. She debates upon chasing after him, but the beep on her own phone reminds her of a certain appointment.

One she was certainly already late for.

Ladybug spends the next few minutes zooming across Paris to get to her apartment on time.

.

.

When Marinette arrives, Adrien's already in the kitchen.

He smiles at her.

How she needed to see that smile today.

"Rough time at work, then?"

Marinette exhales deeply.

"As usual."

"But at least you have me."

"At least I have you!"

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch9 A Third Player

(Mak belongs to @wasted-church)

Normally when one was coddled like a child, they would cease to be treated such a way, but right now it felt nice being comforted by the much larger darkner. Even if it was like when he would have to hold Lancer and reassure him of anything. So for now, he wouldn't argue and just be content with the taller cat holding him in his lap like this. The peace and quiet of the sheap helped him to calm his usually overhyped mind, and the softness of the cat was really nice. The two were interrupted by the small pattering of feet and soon enough the small mammal, which he could now clearly see looked like some kind of bat thing from the looks of those weird wings. They held an apologetic look. "I can't find food, but I found these." They held up what looked like dark candy in their hands and offered them to the two. "I found better food." Seam sighed. "You couldn't find anything else other than that?" They shook their head. "And why not?"

"Jevil ate the rest this morning. Everthing except my candy stash. I'aspulled hin at hiding" Seam sighed before patting Rouxls on the back and asking. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to eat nothing but sweets would you?" Rouxls didn't answer but he did grumble and move slightly away from Mak making him chuckle. "I suppose not then." Mak shrugged before plopping themself onto the ground, dropping a few candies in the process, and stuffing their face with a few of them. Seam gave a dry chuckle before leaning back into the couch. Rouxls shifting to lean back into him a bit more which made Seam chuckle a bit. "W-Wouldst thou stoppeth that?" "Stop what? I'm doing nothing but relaxing...And taking care of you of course. Ahahaha." Rouxls narrowed his eyes. "That! S-Stop that I-infernal laughing! Tis nay funny!," he shouted voice cracking. Seam chuckled harder, making his body shake. Rouxls grumbled again and asking, "What doth thou findeth so funny?" "It's not often I find things amusing being a humble shopkeeper and all....But when someone overreacts like you do, I can't help but be amused." "Pardon me?! Overreacting tis nay something I do!" He finally pushed himself from against the taller cat and looked up to face this one eyed menace. He chuckled again at Rouxls already flustered and angry face. Making him flush more. "STOP THAT!!" His voice braking made Seam laugh harder and Rouxls gave a sputter of anger. The duke then tried to push himself from the larger darkner's grip only to have a paw gently wrap around his chest and pull him back to the warmth of the soft cotton. Making him give off a very undignified squeal. He could practically feel his face flush a deep purple as the cat continued to laugh at the now struggling, sputtering duke. His legs kicked out barely missing Mak's head by a couple inches, causing the poor stuffed bat to yelp and duck for cover. More candy scattering to the floor from their hold. Rouxls gave off another squeal when Seam finally managed to set him back securely within his iron-like grip. "Thou art to r-release me this instant! I-I shan't be treated l-like a prisoner b-by a commoner!!" "Funny, funny.~ I always assumed you were more, more of a bigger spoon.~" The sudden voice made Rouxls snap up immediately and give out a tiny squeak at the sudden appearance of the floating menace just a little ways from them. He immediately felt his pupils shrink and out of instinct, he leaned away from the smiling imp against Seam's chest. Jevil titled his head curiously, taking in the strange sight before him. Seam slowly cleared his throat gaining Jevil's attention. "Jevil. There's something I need to talk to you about-" "I don't suppose, suppose it has something to do with all this?" He gestured towards Seam who was still holding Rouxls but now in a somewhat more slightly protective way. The worm continued to stare directly at Jevil with a not fear but more of a panic in his eyes. This didn't go unnoticed by the imp when he looked back towards him. Fanged smile slightly fading. "...Did I miss, miss something?" "I would say so. But...I think it'd be better if Rouxls had a chance to get up and stretch his legs for a bit." Before anyone could respond Seam slowly began to sit up from the couch, moving his paws to hook under Rouxls's body. The worm gave a surprised noise when Seam moved him into the bridal position before standing up himself. Jevil tilted his head more and rose a brow as to question as to why Seam was holding HIS desired, but Seam gave him a look to say 'Not right now. Later.' Thankfully, Jevil backed off but didn't stray too far from the strange duo, as Seam turned towards the front of his sheap. He had to carefully step over Mak as they scrambled to pick up and eat the candies they spilt earlier from Rouxls's flailing like a fish caught in a net. Rouxl's making a comment about how unhealthy it was for a child to eat anything off the floor. Jevil followed close behind with the same questioning expression. "I can walk on mine own," Rouxls huffed while in Seam's arms, but it seemed the cat ignored his whining. Ounce they were in the front and away from the child, Seam set Rouxls down on his feet. The worn wobbled a bit, getting use back in his legs after sitting on practically a living cushion for the past hour or so, before regaining balance and standing up straight. Seam watched him for a moment before turning to Jevil who was of course staring at Rouxls with a sultry gaze. "Now what has happened to cause the duke, duke to stumble within your humble, humble home and become situated within your ....arms, arms?," he questioned Seam without really looking at him. Seam only answered with a hum before shifting his one eye back towards Rouxls who was busy straightening himself up, before looking over his shoulder at the two. "I...think I can explain. If the duke here doesn't mind me retelling what had happened-" "I simply p-passed out from static shock," Rouxls insisted crossing his arms over his chest like a pouting child, "A-And then I woketh up on thine filthy sofa where that....that thing-" "Mak." "Mak nearly frightened me to death! I shan't hear a-anymore of the matter!" He looked away with a cough, expecting neither to question his authority. ...He should've know by now. "I'm afraid that's not what happened. And you absolutely know it." Seam's answer silenced Rouxls into a blank stare. His button eye spun a few times before he looked back at the eager awaiting jester and sighed. Reaching up a paw to rub through the tuft of fur around his neck. "Don't know how to begin honestly...You might not like the news I bare." "Oh?" Jevil's smile became more strained as he narrowed his eyes slightly. The sight made Rouxls gulp and fail to suppress a shudder. "Hehe. I can't wait to hear the answer, the answer.~ Now what has happened, happened that would hender my mood..mood?" The old cat sighed before reaching up to rub his face. "Well...To be blunt?..... I believe your friend here-" He nodded towards the still duke. "-has a connection towards someone else. He didn't react too kindly to it I'm afraid ." Silence. Jevil blinked and his smile faded completely instantly. He stared at the cat for what seemed like forever before smiling again and giggling a little. Oh, what a joke. Seam's joking habits were still present after all these years. He looked back towards Seam with an expectancy to see him laugh at any moment when he saw through the joke....But he didn't. Instead Seam sighed again and reached a paw up to rub at his temple. What-? He quickly looked towards Rouxls, expecting a similar reaction, but the worm merely blinked that nervous look back at them. His form tense as they awaited the imp"s answer. They didnt wait too long because when Rouxls didnt answer Jevil swiveled his head back to Seam and laughed. "BWAHAHA!! Funny, funny. A good joke, joke to pull so close and so soon to such a wonderful holiday, holiday. You were always such a silly kidder Seam, Seam." Seam stared back and just sighed again. "No, Jevil. Im not kidding. This isn't a joke." Jevil's smile dropped again. His yellow eyes darted over to the still frozen worm who flinched as the yellow pinpricks studied his form. After a short while of just silent studying he again smiled but this time it seemed a little more strained. But only slightly. He chuckled. "Hehe. So a rival player has entered our game of hearts it seems." His tone made Rouxls shiver it held a almost happy aura but underneath was a slight displeasure. Jevil rubbed his clawed hands together and smiled sweetly at Seam. " And just who might this new player that has placed his heart card into, into our game?~ And so, so late too. I've nearly, nearly set down my deck, deck." Neither answered for a moment but Jevil wasn't stupid. He caught the nervous glance the two gave each other before back at him. Rouxls could practically feel the slimey sweat dripping down his face right now. Seam looked much calmer given the current situation but he did use to spend everyday with this lunatic. Surely he would figure out some way to turn this around and lesson the tense air between the three. The cat slowly rose a paw. "Me." Rouxls felt any sanity he had left shatter. Jevil gave a slightly surprised look and rose a brow at the cat's blunt answer. After a few more seconds he broke the silence. "You, you?" "Yep." He finally gave a calm smile. " Haha. To be honest I can't believe it much either. Could've sworn I wouldn't find mine let alone share one. " "Hahaha! Such a chaotic, chaotic dual fate has played against this!" the crazy idiot let off a series of giggles. The duke felt his mouth drop at the whole thing.......Did these two seriously not see how disastrous this was and how they obviously needed to find a solution to this?! Instead these two were talking like they were gambling with cards and he was like some grand prize to be handed over to the winner just like that! NO! He had quite enough of these shenanigans and all this ridiculous talks about how HE should feel and how these two were involved in his life. Quickly his nervous feeling was replaced by a anger and before his brain caught up to hid he shouted- "NO!!" Well the shout certainly caught the other two off guard. It certainly spooked him a bit. All three stood there facing each other and the child bat even stuck their head into the doorway at the sudden shout. Cheeks puffed out with what must' ve been the spilt candies. "....No what, what?" Well there was no going back now was there? Rouxls gave the most professional face he could muster and cleared his throat. "N-No! I will n-not be playing any of thou's 'games' any longer. T-They are not but foolish distractions that hast cost mineself valuable time with mine son and ....and am n-nay intetested in these l-love games!...M-Mine emotions are not a gambling table upon which you can play!" He straightened up his form and huffed. "Calleth me a coward to whom seest it fitting, but I amst forfeiting this playground of fantasies!" "Fantasy, fantasy?!....After what you said to me, me earlier?!" Jevil's face quickly became slightly annoyed. "You cannot, cannot just exit a game once you enter the gamble of life-" "Do you-" A paw quickly came between the two. And Seam turned to the steamed Duke. "-know how soul connections work?" Rouxls scoffed and waved a hand. "Of course. Tis the person whomever thou falleths in love with. Tis soulmate nonsense is beyond tiresome. " The two fell silent again as Seam lowered his paw and Jevil's annoyance left. Replaced with a blank expression. The two shared a silent look and as if reading each other's minds, came to the same understanding that reflected in their faces. Rouxls rose a questioning brow as too say, 'What's going on now?'. "That clears, clears the missing pieces of our puzzle, puzzle. Hehe." "What nonsense art thou mumbling now?" Jevil casually reached around and floated until he slung the arm around a slightly startled Rouxls. And giggled at his expression. "Silly, silly really.~ One cannot play a game they don't understand the rules, rules too. " Rouxls leaned his head away from the gave before reaching up a hand to push the giggling face away before giving Seam a questioning look. The old cat sighed before reaching up to rub his own face. "There's more to souls than just two people falling in love," he mumbled through his paw. "Likest what?" Instead of answering he gestured towards the back room again before turning around and shuffling towards the old room. The duke grumbled something but Jevil's giggles and nudges forward made him cave to the silent command to follow. Mak ducked their head back in as soon as Seam stepped into the doorway shortly followed by the duke and floating jester. And not too later the three were sat upon The couch....Well Rouxls and Jevil shared the couch. Seam was currently nicely seated in a random armchair he summoned up out of nowhere. When the three were somewhat comfortable the cat sighed. "Well then...How shall we start this?" "How about thee part where thou tellest me when this will be resolved?" "When you stop playing, playing the cruel act in the play?~" "Jevil. Please." He giggled and shrugged making him sigh and roll his eye. "Look. It's not an easy thing to explain. ...Even for someone who's seen it quite a couple times in my time. Hehe...But I can try to explain it at all." Rouxls hand a 'go on' motion with his hand and he continued. " Well...Your soul- how do I put this?- calls out to others almost constantly. Like a homing beacon. It just means you eventually find the person you're meant to be with. Mostly with a spark or reaction from each one's soul. And that's what usually people call soulmates." Rouxls blinked before slowly glancing over at Jevil who smiled widely at the worm monster. A....reaction of souls? He felt his ears dropped at the memory of his soul throbbing against his rib cage under Jevil's touch. The feeling of belonging strongly pulsing throughout his entire frame. And then the giant rush of adrenaline from shaking hands with Seam- "W-What a moment. How doth thou explain what hast happened earlier today? I refuse to believe tis was nothing more than static shock." Seam hummed. "Well....There has been rare cases of one having more than one attraction. Hehe. I guess you should count yourself lucky on that part." Rouxls just stared at the smiling cat before looking at Jevil who smiled wider with a purr of all things. "See, see?~ One cannot cheat the game of order, order and chaos- " Rouxls quickly stood up and away from the outstretched hand Jevil held out and gave a desperate look. "N-Now you stopeth that! I-I hath non intetest i-in being the target of thou's games! Doeth eithet of you think about mine say in thine matter?!" "Of course. It's a hard thing to understand at first, Im still trying to wrap these old patches around the idea. Hehe." "That tis nay what I meaneth and t-thou knows it!" Rouxls gave a side glance towards Jevil who giggled and held out his hand towards him. His hand held a pink glow and instantly his pupils shrank. Pink hearts shooting towards him. The day he held his emotions out to her- Rouxls squealed making everyone jump when the Duke held his arms out in a way one would do to shield themselves. The look in his eyes wild. "Nononononono!! No heart! No hearts!" The room went silent for a moment as the frozen jester floated there stunned and still gave that face when a bigger paw gently grabbed his outstretched hand to slowly lower it back down to his side. Seam pulled him back a few inches and gave a sigh before mumbling- "That's the thing I was hoping to talk to you about. But it seems I was a bit too late." A small stumble of footsteps caught their attention and Rouxls slowly backed away towards the doorway. Jevil perked up and reached out for him but yelped when the cat, with surprisingly good speed, latched onto the imp and pulled him back. Rouxls jumped startled and stumbled more. He fell over in the process and fell to the floor with a thud. Quickly picking himself up and scooting back. "I-.....I have my shop t-to t-t-tend to and. ...and. ...And other things!" "W-Wait, wait! I thought you said you didn't fear, fear me!" Nothing. "Rouxls?" The duke said nothing to the pleading yellow eyes and just scrambled out of that room away from the situation fully. "WAIT! COME BACK, BACK!" He pulled against the force holding him- "Jevil, stop! Let him go right now!" Seam's usually calm voice peirced his movements like a knife. "He needs some time to take this all in without you pushing your..uh..affection on him." The imp stopped but gave him a look that reminded him of a kicked puppy. Silence once again was the only speaker for them. Silently he unwrapped his paws from around his body and let him go limp in midair. After a moment the cat sighed and lowered his body back down into the armchair. He was really hoping to talk with Jevil about this before anything like this would happen. But too late I guess. Jevil was always one to just jump and express emotions whenever he felt like it, actually he was pretty predicable once you learnt his personality. But others often mistook his boldness and kept away from him. It would explain the Duke's weird reaction to him now. While Seam could see obvious signs of returning affection from Rouxls, his hesitance was strange. But now at least some peices were falling into place. Jevil stared at his old friend and asked in a voice not suited for him- "Is he....scared, scared of me? Did I do something, something wrong?" One look at the jesters fallen face made him sigh." No. No you didn't. But I was hoping to warn you of our dear friend"s fear of showing emotion." ".....He's afraid of my desire, desire?" "Not exactly..." He scratched his cheek in thought. How should he approuch this? "More so like he"s....erm...Confused and overwhelmed at the amount of attention hes getting right now most likely. You did say he suffered from insomnia?" "Nosleepitis. Yes, yes! And very stick in the mud, mud syndrome." "Well...hehe. I think maybe you should give him a little more space to get used to you." He chuckled. " You might spook him away with your desire flung at him every few seconds." Jevils ears twitched and the imp hummed before leaning forward a little. " Is that a hint of challenge I hear, hear. Old friend?~" Seam chuckled and narrowed his eye slightly. "You know I long since retired from those games. But....Perhaps I have some last few tricks up my sleaves....And its not very often I find someone who nakes me laugh with glee." The smile was back. "BWAHAHA! Are you sure, sure you're ready for me to deal you in, into this game of ours?~ Once you enter, you have to play or risk, risk forfeiting? ~" "Haha. I think this would bring some fun back into my life. Or not. Who knows unless you try? Hehe. And the prize might be worth the wait. " "HAHAHAHA! SEAM, SEAM!! JUST LIKE OLD, OLD TIMES!!" He latched onto his sides and curled into a ball giggling mad. "CHAOS, CHAOS!! FUN, FUN!! A GAME OF SUSPENSE, LOVE, FRIENDS- BETTER THAN A SIMPLE NUMBERS GAME!!" Seam smiled at the proposition. "Well then. May I have permission to be dealt into this game of yours old friend?" He held out his paw. Jevil rubbef his chin clear excitement in his eyes. "Are you certain?~ I have ways, ways of getting my desired checkmate in this event, event?" Seam gave an equally excited look. " Don't be fooled. I just might have a full house to throw down." With a smile. The two crazy fools shook hands. " Hehehe. I look forward to our dance, dance."

Merry Christmas, yorit1!

For @yorit1​​, I'm so happy I was able to write you this fic and I hope it makes you smile and you enjoy it. I've never written a high school au, but I wanted to keep it fluffy and funny. Wishing you a happy holidays; stay warm, grab your favorite warm drink, and read to your heart's content.

Read On AO3

*****

I Caught You Staring (And Now I Can't Look Away)

Alexander Lightwood was different. He was nothing like his brother, Jace who was the star quarterback of the football team and a bit of an egomaniac at times. He wasn’t like his sister, Isabelle who was free-spirited and made a statement with her fashion choices and opinions.

No, Alec was quiet. He tried to take up as little space as possible no matter how much room he was given. Despite his towering stature he tended to hunch unconsciously. Like he was afraid he was always taking up too much room.

But he was stubborn and terse to the majority of people and doted on his family. He stood up for others and advocated for LGBTQ+ rights at school and outside it. He took in those who wormed their way into his heart with nary a thought but kept them away from knowing him besides the front he presented.

He was an array of contradictions that only made him more interesting in Magnus’ eyes.

And he stared. At Magnus. A lot.

Initially, Magnus hadn’t even noticed Alec’s gaze. He’d only realized it when Ragnor and Catarina had brought it to his attention.

“You’re being watched,” Catarina commented offhandedly, taking a bite of her salad.

Magnus smirked. “I’m always being watched,” he purred.

A groan echoed beside him. “I swear, if your head gets any bigger they’ll be no way to hide it,” Ragnor groused.

“I refuse to have this negativity within my eyesight.” Magnus made a shooing gesture. “Remove yourself at once.”

Catarina giggled at their banter before clearing her throat. “I’m being serious, though. You’ve been being watched by mister brooding over there.” She inconspicuously pointed to somewhere diagonally to them.

Not one to shy away from attention, Magnus whipped his head around to try and meet the gaze of his admirer. His eyebrows shot up when he met the gaze of Alexander Lightwood.

Alec seemed to have met his eyes too because his face reddened. The boy gave him a timid wave before ducking his head to gaze at his food, seeming to ignore the other occupants at his table.

Magnus would have continued looking at the bashful boy if his vision wasn’t suddenly obstructed. He squawked and turned a glower to Ragnor. “Are you really trying to cover my face up with a paper bag right now?”

His best friend grinned. “You were staring.”

“He was staring.”

“You wouldn’t have even noticed his staring if Cat hadn’t informed you.”

Conceivably, there was some truth to that. He wasn’t short on admirers so it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t noticed one person’s attention.

He was curious to see how this would all play out.

It happened at a party.

A Magnus Bane party.

Magnus Bane had risen to popularity with these outlandish parties he threw while his father was away on his business trips. They were grand with drinks flowing in red solo cups and music blasting so loudly that they had the cops called on them more than once.

Magnus could easily party the night away. Immerse himself in the sweaty, hormonally charged throngs of his fellow student body. Ordinarily, he would.

But Alec actually came to this one and that wholly couldn’t be ignored.

The boy still hadn’t acted on what Magnus assumed was attraction to him. He merely continued to covertly admire Magnus from afar. The few times they’d talked, Magnus had reduced the boy to scrambled word-vomit. Alexander was bright red and Magnus was beyond flattered.

Here under the colored lights, the boy was a wallflower if he'd ever seen one. He stuck close to the wall and people watched with a dour expression. Magnus had seen people more excited about midterms than Alexander looked at one of his parties. And that wouldn't do at all.

Optimistically, this conversation would go better than their previous ones.

He saddled up to him with an extra cup of whatever brew Catarina had concocted and a charming smile. "Staying over here all by your lonesome, pretty boy?" Magnus inquired lightly.

Alec lurched beside him and looked at him bug-eyed. "What?" He asked.

"Well, you're denying the party-goers a fine specimen while you hunker to the shadows." Magnus couldn't tell if the boy was blushing with the colored lights gleaming across the room but his expression seemed flattered if not terribly shy.

It was adorable.

"I'm uh—My siblings wanted to come."

Magnus hummed thoughtfully and looked around the room until he spotted Alec's sister dancing amongst the crowd. "Ah, Izzy seems to be having a blast." He turned to Alec with a smirk. "I'm assuming Jace and Clary are making out somewhere around here."

Alec groaned and thumped his head against the wall. "I didn't even want to come." His eyes widened, and he jerked his head back to Magnus with his hands raised. "Not—Not that it isn't a great party because it is uh—everyone loves them and I—" he sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Parties have never been my scene and it's just easier to stay on the sidelines."

"Perhaps," Magnus conceded, "or maybe you just need to keep trying." He handed the extra drink to him. "Start with something to drink. It'll do wonders to relax those tense shoulders of yours." And what gorgeously broad shoulders they were.

Alec shook his head and pushed the cup away. "Can't, I'm the designated driver."

Magnus arched a brow and poured the new drink into his original cup. "More for me, I suppose." He took a sip, ignoring the fire that licked his throat on the way down. "In the meantime, we might as well see if we can entice you into enjoying the party,” he set the cups down on a random table and held out his hand, “dance with me."

It wasn't a question and Alec recognized that but still, he shook his head. "Unless you want me to accidentally break your toes, I’m gonna… I'll just stay here."

"Pretty boy, I taught Ragnor how to dance." It'd been his own personal hell for half the summer but Ragnor had gotten significantly better at dancing enough so that he didn't look like he was suffering a seizure when the desire to dance struck him. "I'm sure I can teach you something."

Alec swallowed and looked around the room for anything that might help him. "I'm really not a good dancer," Alec insisted even as Magnus started to coax him from the wall. "I'll look stupid which means you'll look stupid."

Magnus waved him off. "Practically everyone looks silly when they dance, so you won't be alone there." He seized Alec’s hand and pulled him away from the wall. “Give it a try for five minutes, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Alec let himself be dragged to the dancefloor with consternation. “Five minutes and that’s it.”

This conversation was going lightyears better than their first few conversations. “If you want to stop, that is.”

He let go of Alec’s hand to grab ahold of Alec’s hips. “We’ll start with a sway, literally everyone can sway,” Magnus instructed as he started to sway his hips with Alec’s. He quickly directed their swaying to match the beat of the music. “See? Just gotta listen to the music; your body should pick up on the beat.”

A nervous laugh bubbled from somewhere in Alec’s throat as he bopped his head. “Yeah—okay, now what?”

“Arms, you don’t want to just flap them about.” You could knock someone out by accident if you did that. “Though if that’s your style, we can work with that.”

Alec raised his arms, shifting them side-to-side like muscled windshield wipers. “This?”

Magnus threw his head back and laughed. “God no, that’s—“ Magnus dissolved into another fit of giggles, waving a hand at Alec, “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I just—I wasn’t expecting that.”

Alec scowled. “Then show me how to do it,” Alec commanded.

The scowl on the boy’s face resembled more of a pout than anything scary so Magnus figured the boy wasn’t too bothered by his laughter.

“You have to loosen up. You’re too tense!” Magnus ran his hands down Alec’s arms, relishing the shiver that ran through Alec’s body. “Relax your shoulders.”

“They are relaxed.”

He quirked an eyebrow and massaged at Alec’s shoulders feeling the tight muscles jump and release under his ministration. “Darling, I’ve seen assholes looser than your shoulders.”

Alec wheezed, his face twisting up, and squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s—why did you have to say it like that?” Alec groaned with a snort like he couldn’t decide whether to be upset or laugh at Magnus’ comment.

A Cheshire smile spread across his face. “I’m not wrong.”

Alec flushed, his eyes settling everywhere except Magnus’. “Well, I’m relaxed now.”

“Good, now just watch me for a moment.” He winked, biting his lower lip. “Try to keep your gaze virtuous.”

The laughter that tumbled out of Alec was beautiful and something he’d never heard before. His laughter echoed between them, somewhere caught between rough and warm. He’d never heard the boy laugh before.

But he wanted to hear it forever.

Magnus swayed his body, gyrating his hips and moving his hands up his body, letting them move with him. Lidded eyes gazed at Alec who’d stopped dancing altogether and was just staring at him with a familiar intensity.

“Feel free to admire me.”

Alec grinned and shook his head, already miles past his original comfort levels. “Thanks for the consent.” He crossed his arms and gave him a look. “You want a complete too? I feel like your fishing for one.”

“I very much am fishing for compliments,” Magnus said, “I’m just waiting for the hook to pick some up.”

“Normally people don’t admit to fishing for compliments.”

“Normal is subjective, Alexander.” He beckoned Alec over. “Now come join me, let that body talk.”

Alec shook his head again as he walked back over. “You’re so weird.” But his voice was husky belaying his real feelings on Magnus’ behavior. He clumsily joined Magnus and was soon following the beat more or less.

Magnus had thought this would be an innocent folly – just figuring the other boy out – but he found he was having fun. Alec's inexperience and awkwardness were endearing, and Magnus couldn’t turn his gaze away.

And he didn't want to.

He wasn't even sure what it was about Alec that drew him in. Magnus lived for partying, standing out, and being unashamedly himself. He wore glitter and sheer shirts that got him dress coded constantly.

Conversely, Alec was an introvert who orbited around the ones he loved. He'd started an archery club and followed all the school rules to an alarming degree. The only thing Magnus had thought stood out to him about Alec was that he was openly gay.

But just from his interactions with the boy tonight had revealed a hidden charm behind that stoic front. He had a laugh that made Magnus' heart skip a beat. His smile lit up the room way more than the assortment of lights did. He could dance only marginally better than Ragnor could now – which wasn’t saying much – but it made Magnus enjoy dancing with him all the more.

Just these observations made him wonder why he’d never noticed Alexander Lightwood before.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alec interrupted, nudging him in the side.

Magnus shook his head from his previous thoughts. “My thoughts are worth plenty more than a penny,” Magnus sniffed.

Alec rolled his eyes. “Offer still stands.”

Magnus closed the distance between them. “You surprised me.”

“I surprised you?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” Magnus put his arms around Alec’s neck and slowed their dancing down to a sweeping sway. “You’re more than I expected when I came over to you.”

Alec frowned. “More...?”

He shook his head. “I mean that in the best of ways,” Magnus reassured. “There’s just something about you, Alexander.”

Alec ducked his head down sheepishly. “There’s uh… something about you too.”

Magnus grinned, running his fingers through the short strands of hair at the back of Alec’s head. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.” He chanced a look around the room his eyes zeroing in on the clock before turning back to Alec who was finally looking at him again. “It’s been more than five minutes, still want me to leave?”

Hands grabbed at his hips as Alec leaned his head closer. “Please stay.”

Any quieter and Magnus would’ve missed Alec’s plea, but his grip on Magnus was telling enough. “Only if you’ll keep dancing with me.” Magnus gave Alec an exaggerated pout.

Alec snorted, shaking his head. “Stop being so cute.”

“Can’t, darling,” Magnus sighed, “it’s a curse.”

At this point, Magnus could feel Alec’s breath against his lips. With each moment his restraint grew smaller and smaller. He doubted Alec would gather the courage to mention his feelings. But he wasn’t going to wait for the other boy to make a move first. “Maybe this is the alcohol talking, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

Alec’s breath hitched, and for a second Magnus thought he’d ruined their moment until Alec let out a pleased sigh. “I – you uh… If I let you kiss me,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “You have to let me take you on a date.”

Magnus’ face lit up. “You wanna take me on a date?”

The tips of Alec’s ears practically glowed. “I’d like to.”

“I think,” Magnus drawled, twirling a piece of Alec’s hair, “that would be more than okay.”

The other boy’s mouth gaped and he seemed caught between awe and joy. Alec pressed their foreheads together. “So do I get that kiss now?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

Magnus bumps his nose against Alec’s. “How are you feeling about parties now?” Magnus inquired. He genuinely wanted to know if Alec’s opinion had changed.

Alec hummed thoughtfully before shrugging. “I won’t say I like them, but I got to spend time with you.” He brushed his lips against the corner of Magnus’ mouth. “So if you’re there, I can see the appeal.”

“Sweet talker.”

Magnus closed the distance between them. Alec’s lips were dry and deliciously warm against his. Just like his dancing, Alec’s kiss was inexperienced and their teeth clanked together before they got the right angle. Magnus led the kiss, coaxing Alec’s mouth to move with his own. It was hungry and sweet and profoundly earnest.

It was perfect.

Reluctantly Magnus pulled back to let them both breathe. Alec tried to chase his lips for a moment longer, eyes still closed as if he thought he’d open his eyes and Magnus would disappear.  Eventually, Alec did open his eyes, and quiet awe transformed his face.

“Would it be greedy to ask for another?” Alec asked between them, their lips still barely an inch apart.

“Terribly greedy,” Magnus chided with a grin, “But if you take me to that Thai place four blocks from the movie theater I’ll happily give you another.”

Alec laughed, their noses nudging against each other’s. “Promise?”

No answer was needed; his kiss was enough.

Building

Set on their first night in the Awakened Academy.

Wooin felt his phone vibrate to his right. He marked his place in the book he was reading and hastily caught the device before it tumbled off the edge of the bed. He should have been sleeping, preparing for an early start for their first class tomorrow.

Instead, here he was. Awake.

Sleep was particularly elusive. Always has been when he found himself in an unfamiliar place. He found it funny. He thought that growing up without a permanent address would’ve rid him of that quirk of his. The opposite proved to be case. The passing years only had him resigning to acceptance. On the bright side, it was only limited to the first night.

His phone vibrated once again and demanded his attention. He wasn’t sure who would be texting him at this hour. There were only five people registered on his phone—six with the addition of Lee Subin days ago. The chat that Jiwoo had spawned for them was silent. The last being Subin’s, “GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP JISUK” and Jisuk’s obnoxious GIF of a cat with a human face. A cursed image if Wooin had anything to say about it. It still managed to make him snort in amusement though.

Wooin had a guess as to who it was. He didn’t want to assume but looking at his inbox pointed to one person. He unlocked his phone, swiped his thumb down and there on top of his notifications was a single name.

 Jisuk-ah Are you still up? Forget it. You’re probably asleep.

 Considering that that the message’s status has updated itself to read, it would be remiss of him not to reply. He was certain Jisuk would still be awake. It had only been seconds since he received the message.

  Yes. I’m still awake.

 Succinct. Jisuk had once told him there was no mistaking the way he texted for anyone else. It’s just Wooin-ish, yanno? Jiwoo had nodded in agreement and Wooin just made a noise of acceptance.

Seconds passed and his phone remained silent. A frown slowly took form on his face. Jisuk was usually quick to reply. He had harped Wooin about it before but upon realizing that the other boy had never actually texted anyone prior to meeting them, Jisuk had let him be. Wooin still made an effort to at least tell Jisuk if he couldn’t talk at the moment. At least, it didn’t leave Jisuk wondering. He gave Wooin the same courtesy.

So when his reply was left unanswered, Jisuk leaving him on read, it left a strange feeling. Wooin tried not to fret over it. Maybe he was talking to someone else at the moment? Or some other matter needed his attention more? There were a ton of plausible reasons. Whatever it was, Wooin stopped himself from lingering.

He was about to pick up his book again when he heard a sudden tapping. He scanned his room but nothing was out of the ordinary. The tapping came again, this time more insistent. There was one place he could check, but what in the world could be tapping at his window? For one absurd moment, he thought it would be a ghost. He shook his head to banish it. Maybe he shouldn’t have read that webtoon Jiwoo sent him. Who would have thought a guy like Seo Jiwoo would have a penchant for horror stories?

The tapping continued stopped. By the frequency, it wouldn’t be stopping any sooner. Wooin was sure now that it wanted his attention. Enough dawdling then. He turned his head to the window beside his bed and found his mind trying to comprehend the sight.

He wasn’t sure what to think. Only that it was impossible. And utterly ridiculous. He blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Yet the scene outside his window didn’t change. Oh, well, with that frown and the jerky gesturing to the window’s latch, it did change a bit. A little dazed, Wooin made his way dumbly to the window. He unlatched the lock and nearly bruised Jisuk’s face as he swung it open.

“Fuck, warn a guy will you?” the boy complained as he climbed through. The sound of rushing wind dying down in an instant. Ah, that explained the fluttering.

“I think I should be the one saying that,” he retorted.

Jisuk turned to him and smirked at finding the still bewildered expression plastered on him. “Wipe that dumb look off your face.” He walked to Wooin’s bed and dropped himself on it. He looked pretty right at home.

“What are you doing here?” he asked instead.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Jisuk raised a brow at him. Wooin knew exactly why Jisuk was here. The throbbing on his wrist said all there was about that matter. That wasn’t the point of his question though and he was sure Jisuk knew that too. With a groan, he pushed himself back up and leaned forward to grab Wooin’s wrist.

In the next second, Wooin was dragged to his own bed, nearly lying on top of Jisuk. They stared at each other. A moment passing between them, before Wooin was pulled further down and Jisuk’s arms slid around his waist.

“Hi,” came whispered to his ear.

“Hi,” came his muffled reply, as his face remained tucked into Jisuk’s shoulder.

“I’m still not used to this.”

Me too, he wanted to say but he could only hum.

Being touched like this was still a novelty to him. He wasn’t raised with casual intimacy. Even the years under Professor Delaine didn’t prepare him for it. He wasn’t an affectionate man. Wooin had understood that wasn’t part of the relationship when the man took him in. He was used to pats or a quick ruffle to the hair. They were few and far in between. Wooin soaked it all up. It wasn’t a surprise that when Jisuk hugged him, Wooin had been rigid and it took a long time before he realized what was even happening. Or to loosen his tense muscles. Jisuk stubbornly held him all throughout.

Jisuk was unexpectedly a tactile person. He never tried holding Wooin again so hastily after that first time. He did slowly build up on the touches—standing close, brushing their shoulders, holding his hand, hooking his arm over his shoulders and so on. Each one a step further in the ladder. Wooin still tensed at some touches but he easily melted into them after a second.

Jisuk shifted and Wooin flowed with it. He rolled them to their sides, their contact never breaking. Wooin wondered how much of this was the bond or whether Jisuk was simply indulging his need for contact. Maybe it was neither. Maybe it was both.

Wooin had been resigned never knowing whoever owned the mark on his wrist. He had stopped thinking about it. Not until the moment he and Jisuk found themselves bare chested in front of each other in Jiwoo’s bathroom.

To think that they found out being each other’s soulmates by accident. Typical really. Considering they had been at each other’s throats not too long ago.

It wasn’t particularly hard to accept it. There was something right about being in Jisuk’s company. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, it didn’t change that it was easy to get along with each other. Jisuk may have been rough around the edges, but Wooin wasn’t blind to see that he didn’t dislike his company.

(In fact, something just clicked in their little group. Jiwoo may have been their common point, but it was more than that made them stay.)

The bond wasn’t fully realized yet, but with the way they were behaving, the certainty of it was well on its way.

Wooin didn’t know how long they stayed like that. They didn’t talk much. Just kept the contact to satisfy the bond that’s been recently acknowledged. At some point, they rearranged themselves to lie better on the bed. He did remember falling asleep to Jisuk spooning him. The next morning, he woke up to Jisuk gone. He dreamt of Jisuk leaning over him, lips brushing against his cheek and his figure sliding out of the window.

Seeing that it was slightly ajar, the likeliness of it being a dream was null.

His phone vibrating signaled the others were awake. The chat was once again active. As expected, after Jiwoo’s morning greetings, Subin and Jisuk were ribbing each other once again. He smiled at their antics. Unused to such liveliness yet he didn’t find the change unwelcome.

He set his phone aside and began getting ready for the day.

  And if later that night, Jisuk snuck into his room again, they just had to be careful not to get caught.

Cybernetics- Cyberpunk!Sonic AU- Chapter 8

Amy Rose has been working tirelessly at her broken down booth for as long as she can imagine. Ever since Tails left their work to join forces with the revered hero of Mobius, ‘The Blue Blur’, she’s grown lonely and desperate to make her life exciting. A strange customer comes in one day asking her to fix his cyborg arm, what she didn’t know was that he would be the catalyst for a brand new life.

AO3 Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Amy Rose/Shadow the Hedgehog, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog), Shadow the Hedgehog, Sonic the Hedgehog, Miles “Tails” Prower, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, Rouge the Bat, Whisper the Wolf, Cream the Rabbit, Knuckles the Echidna, Badnik (Sonic the Hedgehog), E-123 Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, Slow Burn, Partners in Crime

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Bugs buzzed monotonously by her ear, body truly screaming at her to stop moving and lay down now.

“We’re almost there.” He’d promised quite a few times.

She’d at one point exasperatedly asked how he made this trek. He pointed out that he had the chip, and that also when he chose not to use the chip, he had the shoes. Amy supposed she’d have to figure something out. But until then, she was stuck feeling like death while the sun slowly left them less and less light. Her feet felt about ready to fall off, and at this point she wouldn’t be opposed to it, then she would have to lay down and take a break until her feet got replaced by cyborg parts. Unfortunately, unless there was a saw around here, she got the feeling that though they hurt, her feet were firmly attached to the rest of her for many years to come. She stopped when she bumped her head on Shadow’s shoulder blade on accident, not realizing that he had stopped. She looked up and saw him glancing back at her, silently pointing to the building ahead of them. The outside looked just as old as the rest of the buildings, vines and moss grew up the side, but the difference would be that this building had no cracks, no holes, and even had glass in the windows. The thick vines had been pushed away to grow around the doorway, which held a black, steel door.

“This is it?” She whispered. Shadow nodded and beckoned her to follow once more, stepping up to the door and opening up the scanner attached to it, allowing it to scan his face. Once it had, she heard the soft clicking of the mechanism allowing it to unlock, and soon she was following him inside.

The inside was clean, fixed up just like he’d said. The floor was tiled and a round, maroon carpet sat in the middle of it. To the right was a couch with two love seats and a coffee table, as well as a large ProjScreen attached to the wall, the furniture sat on top of a rectangle rug that was the same color as the round one. To the left there was kitchen, complete with an island and any appliances one would need to cook as well as a fridge- she had no idea how they got any power out here, but she’d ask about that later. Lights dotted the ceiling to make up for the lack of windows on the first floor, and in the middle of the back wall there was a staircase leading up. Amy looked over to see Shadow had taken off his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall.

“Shadow! Watch out!” A voice cried from the steps, and Amy found herself being tackled and pinned to the ground. She cried out in pain, she wasn’t sure how much more of a beating her body was to take today, but she hoped it wasn’t much more as clenched her teeth and squinted in pain.

“Rouge! She’s no danger- get off.” He demanded exasperatedly.

‘Rouge’s weight left her and she opened her eyes, taking Shadows hand that he offered and allowing herself to be pulled up. Then, she looked over to see who exactly ‘Rouge’ was.

She was... an Android. White metal, bright blue, glowing eyes. Equipped with fake lashes and makeup. Two wings protruded from her back and her ears gave away that she was modeled to look like a bat mobian. She currently wore a robe- it looked soft, and it was pink, matching slippers she wore on her feet. Aside from all that, she was much curvier than your typical Android would be, at least from what Amy had seen before.

“Rouge, this is Amy. She’s coming on board as our mechanic.” Shadow introduced her. Amy held out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you...” She spoke softly, and cautiously, not wanting to incite any more anger from the Android woman. Rouge was silent, studying her up and down. Judging her. Amy couldn’t tell what the Android was thinking- it was strange, Androids tended to be easier to read because they weren’t actually mobians.

“I like your pants.” She said suddenly, crouching down to grasp one of the straps. “They’re practical and yet, very stylish.” Rouge observed before standing back up to look at Amy. Her facial expression didn’t give much away, but her body language told Amy that for now, Rouge would leave her be.

Amy let out a breath of relief as Rouge turned to look at Shadow.

“Does that mean Omega can finally be fixed...?” She asked hopefully.

“I do believe so.” He replied.

“Omega?” Amy wondered aloud.

“Don’t worry about it for now, you need to rest up, you’ve been smacked around a bit more than I think you’re used to today.” Shadow nodded to Rouge, and the bat android stepped forward and lifted Amy’s bag from her shoulder.

“I’ll take this to your room and get everything ready for you.” She explained before turning and spreading her wings, flying up the stairs. Shadow chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Amy asked.

“I think she’s excited to have another girl in the house.”

She ‘ooh’ed quietly, following Shadow as he walked over to the kitchen.

“Sit.” He gestured to one of the stools that sat at the island. Amy sat down gingerly and put her hands in her lap, watching him open the fridge and stare at it absentmindedly. She couldn’t imagine it was easy to get food out here, but then she remembered his teleporting trick and supposed that it was quite possible that he... went grocery shopping? That would be a funny sight to see. He shut the fridge door and leaned down to the freezer door, pulling it open and selecting something from it before tossing it on the table. He pulled out a toaster from next to the fridge and plugged it in before getting to work on unwrapping the food while beginning to speak to her once more.

“The room won’t be great, but you can start to get your own stuff to put in there once you... adjust to our living style.” He explained, popping what she now saw were frozen waffles into the toaster. “ProjScreen- on.” He called, louder than he had been talking to her previously, and she shifted slightly to turn and watch the ProjScreen as he continued to shuffle around in the kitchen. What she saw made her stomach turn.

“-from what we can see, this woman and her partner made a complete fool of the Blue Blur.” The female cat gossip show anchor chided.

“While we up here in the neon city aren’t exactly big fans of any criminal, watching these two lay waste to the Blue Blur is exceptionally funny.” The male deer replied, partially to the camera. The woman laughed.

“As part of our ‘down with the Blue Blur’ campaign, I just want to play that absolutely humiliating clip again!” She cried joyfully, clapping her hands together before turning in her chair to watch the screen behind them.

The screen showed a projection from the angle of what seemed to be a surveillance camera. It was a slow-mo shot of her rolling and shoving herself off the Blue Blur, immediately followed by Shadow’s cyborg hand appearing on screen and hitting the Blue Blur square in the back, sending him tumbling forward and scraping on the ground. Thank god the camera panned towards the blue hedgehog instead of her and Shadow, or else there’d be video proof of them just disappearing. But instead it zoomed in on the Blue Blur, who struggled to get up before collapsing. The video cut off just as Tail’s feet came in frame.

“Now that is just too funny!” The cat woman cried again, smile wide on her face.

“I have to agree with you there- but now we have to get to the more interesting topic- who was that woman?” He asked enthusiastically as a grainy, zoomed in projection of her face from when she was falling came up behind them.

“Now, thanks to some intelligence we do know she ran a shop in the outer ring, but the real question is how did she get wrapped up in all this drama? I mean, Mobius’ most famous vigilante scooping her up and trying to take her away from the mystery cyborg man- what do you think happened?” She questioned her cohost.

Amy grimaced, they were making it out to be some sort of romantic triangle from what she could tell, and before she could hear what the deer had to say, Shadow cut in.

“ProjScreen- off.” He called out. “Sorry, I don’t know why Rouge watches that crap. It was probably uncomfortable to see your face like that.” He apologized gruffly as she turned back around, watching him slide a plate across to her.

“It’s fine.” She reassured, “It was honestly kind of interesting to see how they talked about me- us. They... liked that we knocked down the Blue Blur.”

“Of course they did.” He snorted. “Inner ring folk hate him.” Amy shrugged in response, not knowing what more to say on the topic.

“So, what have you made for me, chef?”

“Toaster waffles with peanut butter on them for protein, plus some apple slices for some good sugar and vitamin intake. Just something to get you through the night, there’ll be something better in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She smiled slightly, glad to be digging in to the food. The waffles were a bit stale and the apples were a bit mushy, but it was better than what she usually ate, so she continued to munch on it happily as Shadow walked over to the living room half of the bottom floor. By the time she was finishing up, she heard Rouge land on the tile at the bottom of the stairs.

“Your room is ready.”

Amy looked over with a tired smile, standing and putting the plate by the sink she had spotted earlier before walking over to Rouge.

“Thank you... for all this.” She turned back to Shadow before stepping up the stairs. “I know this is weird... for both of us, but thank you for giving me this chance and keeping me from getting arrested.” He merely grunted in response and Amy assumed that was the best she was going to get and followed Rouge up the stairs.

They went up two floors before stepping out of the stairs and into a hallway, Rouge passed one door on the left before coming to one slightly past it on the right and pushing it open.

“Here you go, call me if you need anything- I’m a floor down.” She explained as Amy stepped in the room, closing the door behind the pink hedgehog. Amy could hear her slippered feet walking away.

Too tired to care about what the room looked like, Amy leaned against the wall and unlaced her boots, kicking them off before walking over to and collapsing in the bed. She let out a deep sigh before almost immediately falling asleep, too exhausted physically and mentally to even consider what her day had been.