#they’re so stinking cute. wait

[miraclewoozi]

okay no but actually I HAVE SO MANY THINGS. TO SCREAM. ABOUT. i knewwww from the teaser that this was going to be absolutely killer but was i ready for just how good it already is???? no. no i was not.

Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader

Rating: T | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural

Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.

Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat

Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)

It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this. 

This being a vampire, of course. 

He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead. 

Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically. 

There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds. 

That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels. 

That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.

He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing. 

He puts an ad out on Craigslist. 

Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures. 

He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing? 

He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread. 

The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago. 

That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home. 

Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way. 

He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up. 

Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could 

Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait. 

Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines. 

His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you. 

You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either. 

Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety. 

You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)

So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?

If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you. 

Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger. 

In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing. 

But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear. 

He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is. 

Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you. 

It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers. 

You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you. 

The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him. 

You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in. 

In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running. 

It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one. 

Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry. 

You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly. 

You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him. 

Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.

This should be a good environment to test it out, you think. 

You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget. 

What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?

Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?

It’s a shame you don’t get to find out. 

Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth. 

There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you. 

His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down. 

“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face. 

He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him. 

Your scent. 

It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there. 

Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him. 

He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower. 

Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you. 

He’s miles out of the city before he stops running. 

When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame. 

He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry. 

Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees. 

He feels like it’s taunting him. 

The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up. 

He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was. 

He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.

It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much. 

Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand. 

He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s. 

This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding. 

This moon is the one he ruined everything under. 

He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more. 

How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?

How could he ever not want more with you?

You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you. 

The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet. 

That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you. 

You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him. 

You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t. 

He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.

Fuck, this is all your fault. 

You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind. 

It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around. 

Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead. 

You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one. 

So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned. 

With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside. 

“Hello?” 

“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice. 

“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response. 

“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice. 

“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!” 

“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.  

“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself. 

“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight. 

“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind. 

“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him. 

You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase. 

What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?

“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his). 

“Y/n, I’m not risking you.” 

He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon. 

“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no. 

“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.  

“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes. 

A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned. 

“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before. 

You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now. 

“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh. 

“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger. 

“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do. 

“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”

He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone. 

As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart. 

“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance. 

Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so. 

“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.”

AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!

pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰

*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!

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[mssorceressupreme]

Wanna Be Yours | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: helping a younger student resulted in you and the first-year walking into a prank not meant for you, and as you do so, you catch Fred's attention. the next day he tries to apologise with another prank and it backfires, but this only resulted in him falling even harder for you, he just knew wanted to be yours.

Warnings/tags: hufflepuff!reader (well it suits anyone really :D), love at first sight, he fell first and HARD, fred needs you so bad, pranks gone wrong, teasing, fluffy and cute, fred's a simp a/n: inspired by "Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys"

———

The courtyard was alive with the soft hum of spring—branches swaying in the breeze, birds chirping from the castle walls, and a few students milling about on the cobblestones. Fred crouched behind a large stone pillar, his mischievous grin matching the one plastered across his twin’s face.

Huddled in a corner, the four of them—Fred, George, Lee and Oliver, were planning a revenge prank on Marcus Flint and Draco Malfoy for their obnoxious antics during the Quidditch match earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Oliver Wood asked, trying to sound stern but failing as he bit back a chuckle.

Malfoy had spent most of the game taunting Harry, and Flint’s borderline dirty play had cost Gryffindor two near-goals. That didn’t sit well with Fred and George, so what better way to get back at them than with a prank.

“Hundred percent.” Fred said, smirking as he held up a pouch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. “Alright, we rig this near the tree. As soon as they walk by, poof! Total chaos. Then, George, you release the Dungbombs—”

“Already got ‘em primed,” George said, patting his pocket with a devilish grin.

“Don't forget the slime and feathers!” Lee added, holding up a jar of fluorescent green goop in one hand, and a bag of feathers in the other.

Oliver, who had reluctantly joined but couldn’t resist some payback, frowned. “Let’s make sure they’re the only ones who get caught in this mess though, yeah?”

“Relax Wood,” Fred said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s a foolproof plan. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Trust us,” George said, “We’ve calculated everything.”

“Right,” Lee affirmed, “It's simple charm, a bit of instant darkness powder, and—bam! Feathers, slime, and a nice little puff of stink powder for good measure.”

George cackled, clapping his twin on the back. “Beautiful. They’ll be too busy cleaning slime and plucking feathers off their robes to bother us for weeks.”

“That's what they deserve for acting like twits during the match.” Lee chimed in. "S'pose they do deserve it." Oliver chuckled, his reluctance turning into enthusiasm.

The trap was simple but effective: a hidden tripwire enchanted to release darkness powder, then a rain of slime and feathers from above, followed by the dungbombs. All they had to do now was wait for their targets. "Now, they're supposed to walk pass here any moment..." Fred told the others, as the four of them watched eagerly.

Fred’s eyes glinted as he nodded toward the enchanted tripwire stretched across the cobblestones, ready to unleash chaos on Flint and Malfoy the moment they stepped on it.

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't.

From behind a stone archway, you appeared with a small Ravenclaw first-year in tow.

It wasn’t Malfoy or Flint who walked into the courtyard first.

It was you.

You were laughing softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth as you guided a nervous-looking first-year Ravenclaw girl who clutched her books tightly to their chest. The poor kid had taken a wrong turn, and you volunteered to show her the way to the library.

In your arms, you helped carry some of her load, making it easier for the first-year.

“Don’t worry,” you were saying, your voice kind and steady. “The library isn’t far. Just through the next hall and up the staircase."

Fred’s eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. He didn’t hear anything else. It was like the world had narrowed to just you—the way your hair caught the sunlight, the easy grace in your step, and the way your smile seemed to light up the entire courtyard.

How had he not noticed you before?

“Is Fred broken?” George whispered to Lee.

“Looks like it. Never seen him go this quiet before,” Lee replied, smirking.

Oliver elbowed Fred, snapping him out of his trance. “Mate, you’re staring.”

“Shut up,” Fred muttered, his eyes never leaving you.

"Who is she?..." He continued, holding true to Oliver's statement.

“Who?” Lee asked, following his gaze. He snorted when he saw you. “Her? Oh no. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Fred.”

Fred didn’t respond. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you but he was quickly snapped out of his trance as you approached the tree.

Oh shit. "Not the tree, don't walk past the tree..." He muttered to himself, hoping you would somehow magically hear him.

It was no use. Disaster struck.

You were met with instant darkness, coughing slightly as the powder released a thick fog around you and the first year.

Before you could grasp the full situation, a torrent of green slime and feathers rained down from above, coating you and the first-year from head to toe. The Dungbombs exploded seconds later, filling the courtyard with an awful stench.

The first-year yelped, clutching her books as the slime dripped down her robes. You froze for a moment, stunned, before shaking your head with a soft laugh.

Fred winced, guilt twisting in his chest.

“Oops,” George muttered, though he didn’t sound all that sorry.

Lee burst out laughing, "Merlin, did we just traumatise a first year?!"

“Poor kid,” Oliver said, though his lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Fred, however, barely heard them. He was too busy watching you. Instead of panicking or getting angry, you crouched down immediately, brushing feathers off the first-year’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said gently, your voice soothing. “It’s just a bit of slime and feathers. Another tip, beware of silly pranks, it's all part and parcel of the Hogwarts culture." You comfort the kid, trying to lighten the situation by laughing softly, "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

The first-year nodded, her lower lip trembling, and you smiled, guiding her toward a nearby fountain.

Fred couldn’t stop staring. He didn't know who you were, but he did know this, he wanted to be yours.

You were covered in slime and feathers, an absolute mess, yet you still looked radiant.

There was something about the way you put the first-year first, your patience and kindness shining through, that made his heart thud in the best way.

You helped her cleaned as much as you could off her robes, murmuring reassurances the entire time before chanting, "Scourgify!", instantly her robes were as good as new.

Only after she was cleaned up did you finally turn your attention to yourself. With the help of the cleaning spell, the feathers were out of your hair and the slime off your sleeves in no time.

“Merlin! Fred, you’ve got it bad,” Lee said, smirking.

“Oh, leave him,” George teased. “He’s clearly in love.” Fred’s ears turned pink, but he didn’t care. For once, he was speechless.

“How come I’ve never noticed her before?” The red head murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He was certain he would’ve remembered someone like you. “Maybe because you’re too busy pranking people,” Oliver said dryly. "Who is she?" Fred asked, ignoring Oliver's remark. "Seen her around a couple of times, especially in the library, she's in Ron's year." Oliver hummed, watching as you conversed with the first-year.

“That explains it,” George quipped. “She’s too smart to bother with Fred’s idiocy.”

Fred scowled, but his gaze remained fixed on you. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself, and he felt like everyone had disappeared, you were the only one in sight, to him.

He knew he had to make this right. He needed an excuse to approach you. Right! An apology. And of course, he had to impress you.

The Ravenclaw girl finally gave a small laugh as you finished off explaining the pranking culture at Hogwarts. “Thank you, I-..I think I know my way to the library from here now.” she said softly before hurrying off. ___

The next day, Fred had a plan. A proper one.

Breakfast in the Great Hall hummed with the usual morning chaos: the clink of cutlery, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional bursts of laughter from each houses' table.

Fred stood at the entrance, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of enchanted flowers—slime-free this time—that were charmed to sing a cheerful apology tune when presented.

He wiped his palm against his robes for what felt like the hundredth time. “This is foolproof,” Fred muttered under his breath.

“You say that every time,” George pointed out, his tone dripping with amusement. He nudged Lee, who was barely containing his laughter. “What do you reckon? Will he get through two words before tripping over himself?”

“Five Galleons says he’ll combust,” Lee said, grinning.

“Will you two shut it?” Fred snapped, though the tips of his ears turned red. “This is serious.”

“Serious,” George repeated, mocking Fred’s tone. “You’re holding a singing bouquet, mate. Nothing about this screams ‘serious.’”

“Just watch,” Fred said, his voice low but determined.

That’s when you walked in, and Fred’s stomach flipped.

You were laughing as you entered, your head tilted toward one of your friends. That laugh—light, carefree, and far too distracting—was etched into Fred’s memory, playing on a loop since the previous day.

The sunlight streaming through the tall windows hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your smile. You were radiant.

Fred’s heart thumped in his chest as he stepped forward, the bouquet held out like a peace offering. “Hey!” he called, catching your attention.

You turned to him, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Yes?” you said, the corners of your mouth quirking up into a curious smile. What did he want from you?

Fred grinned, his confidence teetering on the edge of unraveling. “Listen, about yesterday—”

But before he could finish, the bouquet let out a sudden pop. A puff of pink smoke erupted, followed by an earsplittingly off-key version of “I’m Sorry About The Slime” that echoed through the Great Hall.

Fred barely had time to react before the bouquet detonated in a second burst, showering him in glitter and knocking him flat on his back.

The Hall erupted into laughter.

Fred groaned, staring at the enchanted ceiling, which now looked even farther away than usual. He could hear George’s loud, obnoxious cackling somewhere to his left.

“Five Galleons,” Lee said smugly.

Fred grimaced, but before he could even begin to think about recovering, a familiar voice broke through the laughter.

“Guess I’m not the only casualty this time.”

Fred turned his head, blinking in disbelief. You had flopped down beside him, lying flat on your back on the floor as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Glitter sparkled in your hair, and your grin was wide and unapologetic.

“What are you doing?” Fred asked, his voice caught somewhere between bewilderment and awe.

“Making sure you’re not the only one who looks ridiculous,” you replied, shrugging as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only fair.”

Fred let out a breathless laugh, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten. “You’re mental.” But he loved it.

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, glancing at him with a teasing smile.

From across the Hall, George shouted, “Right on, Romeooo!!” His voice was exaggerated and dramatic, and Fred could practically feel the heat rising in his face.

“Oi shut it, George!” Fred yelled, though his tone lacked bite.

You laughed again, and Fred swore his heart might actually burst. “You’ve got quite the fan club,” you said, gesturing toward the group of students, particularly, Fred's 'boys', who were now openly watching the scene unfold and chortling.

“They’re a bunch of idiots,” Fred muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You know,” you said thoughtfully, “for someone who’s usually so good at pranks, this was a spectacular disaster.”

Fred groaned, running a hand through his now glitter-covered hair. “Tell me about it.”

“But,” you added, your voice softening, “I appreciate the effort and the apology.”

Fred looked at you, his heart stuttering. “You do?”

“Yeah.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “And between you and me, I think you pull off the glitter look better than anyone else here.”

Fred laughed, the sound loud and genuine, and for a moment, the rest of the hall faded away. “I reckon you pull it off better than I do.”

“Why thank you, it's actually my dream to be covered in glitter. Shining as bright as a quidditch trophy is the goal." You joked, but Fred smiled warmly.

You do shine bright, he thought.

As you stood up, you reached out a hand to help him up. Fred took it without hesitation, warmth spreading through him at the simple gesture.

“Come on, glitter boy,” you said, your tone teasing but fond. “Let’s get you sitting somewhere before you injure yourself again.”

Fred let you lead him to a bench at the side of the hall, his hand still tingling from where yours had been.

As you both sat down, he turned to face you, his usual confidence returning in a slow, steady wave, “I’m Fred, by the way."

You laughed, tucking a strand of glitter-dusted hair behind your ear. “I know. You and George are kind of hard to miss.”

Fred’s grin widened, his chest fluttering at the sound of your laugh. “Yeah? Well, you’re kind of hard to forget...uh?" As if on cue, you told him your name. "Y/N." You smiled. "Y/N..." He repeated back, how fitting, a pretty name for a pretty girl.

Your eyes softened, and for a moment, you studied Fred's features. He did the same, glancing at your lips occasionally.

You'd always seen him from afar, to you he was just a prankster, a jokester, busy with his schemes, you'd never thought you'd actually come face to face with him.

But now that you did, you saw him in a different light, almost.

“If this is how you usually apologise,” you said, your voice light again, “I’m scared to see what happens when you’re not sorry.”

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. “Stick around, and I’ll show you.”

You leaned back slightly, your smile lingering. “I just might.”

And in that moment, Fred knew—he didn’t just want to impress you. He wanted you, all of you, your wit, your laughter, your sparkling eyes.

He just wanted to be yours.

[chiscaralight]

locker room shenanigans!

includes: nsfw! semi public sex. continuation of college athlete!gojo. you don’t need to read it but makes more sense if you do. fem!reader, knee humping, use of ‘princess’ fingering, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, panty thief!gojo, don’t try this at home, they’re kinda cute aren’t they. can you tell i’m emotionally constipated

the air is warm as you make your way to the field. you're never here except for when your friends drag you to rallies and matches against your will. practice was over long ago, and you can see some of the regular team members walking off towards the campus. you're not even sure where you're supposed to go exactly, but you spot a familiar head of white hair sitting in the bleachers.

gojo greets you with a boyish smile as you walk over. you're a little nervous, seeing that the last time the two of you spoke, you were admitting how badly you wanted him. but you shake off the embarrassing memory as you close the distance between you.

he's as charming as ever when he greets you, voice silky smooth as he gets up. it's almost as if he didn't have you bent in almost every way possible a few days ago; he's speaking like he's known you for ages! to be honest, you're not paying too much attention to what he's saying. he's all huffy and sweaty from practice, and the way white strands are sprawled out and glued to his forehead is reminding you so much of how good he looked above you, icy blue eyes piercing into your soul as the two of you walk towards.. where are you walking to again?

"the locker rooms, duh."

"the male locker rooms? what do you need to do in there?"

"i need to take a shower. we need to take a shower."

when you finally reach the door, a little bit of dread settles in the pit of your stomach. was satoru gojo trying to tell you that you fucking stink? what the hell is he talking about? and should you even be there? there's probably a lot of naked men in there you're sure wouldn't be happy to see you. you're both just standing off to the side waiting for god-knows-what as you shift in your spot. you finally decide to ask why you're out here if the showers are in there. but before the words are out, you're being cut off by someone pushing the door open and sprinting out.

gojo explains that college athlete!choso is usually the last person in here, which means two things. one: he's going to run all the way to his girlfriend house now, and two: the locker room is completely empty.

the steam from the room throws you off a bit as he closes the door behind you. you're eyeing everything around you; setting your bag down on one of the benches as gojo pulls his shirt off. you try not to stare, but his frame is so mouth-watering that you can't even look away before he catches you staring. your cheeks flush and you decide one of the used towels on the ground is much more interesting than whatever he's doing. he thinks it's so cute just how shy you are. have you forgotten his dick was down your throat less than a week ago already?

of course, you haven't, but that doesn't change the fact that this is so awkward for you! clearly, he's enjoying this way more than you are, because he can't even hide that shit-eating grin that takes over his lips as he makes his way over to you. his hand is guiding your chin up to look at him warily, and your eyes are closing again as his lips find yours.

your body is practically melting against his when his fingers find your waist, and he hums into your mouth. you kiss so sweetly for someone with such a sharp tongue, but hell keep the snarky remarks for when you're too fucked out to retort. gojo is pulling away way too soon, and you pout as he avoids the way you chase his lips. he's softly pushing you towards one of the lockers, pressing your back against the cool metal; in heavy contrast to the heat dancing all over your body from the room and his touch. you gasp when he slides his knee between your legs and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth, wet tongue gliding against yours as you unconsciously grind onto him.

you're trapped between a rock and a hard place. the rock being his cock, because you can feel how hard he's getting from rubbing against you. that, coupled with the fact his knee is brushing your clothed cunt just right, and you're barely able to kiss back. your broken whimpers are making him twitch in his pants hard. he really did want to take his time, maybe tease you just a little, but everything about you is just so addicting. you whine as his warmth leaves your body, but you're quickly distracted by his fingers hooking the waistband of your pants. kicking them off, you're pulling his wrist to draw him closer again.

your breath hitches as his knuckles brush against the damp spot on your panties. they're soft, pale pink and he makes a mental note to pocket them when he gets them off you later. shifting them to the side, he makes quick work of circling around your sopping entrance, never fully dipping his finger past a few millimeters and it’s driving you insane.

“stop teasing, satoru.”

“oh, we’re on first-name basis now?” and he chortles at the way you lack a response. you can barely think of what to say before he’s flipping you over, and your face is now in close contact with.. not him. he’s too close for you to shift your head to see what he’s about to do, but he answers your mental question by plunging two fingers deep into your cunt fairly quickly.

you can’t catch the moan that rips from your throat as he starts to move, and you’re already a mess from his starting pace. gojo can feel you dripping down his palm and how desperately you’re trying to pull away, but his hand is locked between your body and the locker. not like he planned to stop anyway, but he’s a little offended seeing you struggle to get out of his grip. he’s sliding another finger in as his head dips down to your ear.

“if you stop movin’ around so much, it'll be much easier for the two of us.”

“i-it’s too much-“

“none of that. you took me so well last time, i'm sure you can do it again.”

he doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s curling his fingers hard. he’s basically knuckles deep in you, and your cunt is starting to flutter hard around his digits. you’re using your free hand to grip his wrist, unable to form words as your orgasm crashes down over you. you’re going eyes are pressed shut as the waves of pleasure roll over you, and you swear the man above you is grinding against your exposed ass.

it’s his fingers pulling out of your cunt that has your eyesight returning, and you’re locking gaze with him as he slides those three fingers deep into his mouth. his mouth travels down his palm to his mid-forearm, just where your release stopped before he managed to catch up. gojo releases his mouth from his skin with a satisfying pop, and he sighs in relief while he licks his lips.

“now, you need a shower.”

one of gojo's greatest traits is how easy he is to talk to. it’s why so many people have such a good impression of him from just one conversation, and why the two of you are bantering like he didn’t just finger the shit out of you and then eat your cum before your very eyes.

you’re desperately trying to get away from him in this too-small space. he’s convinced you’re insanely ticklish from the way you react when he touches you, and what better way to check other than when you’re completely naked? the only thing saving you now is the fact that the floor is dry, otherwise you would have bashed your head into the ground trying to get out of there.

satoru is insanely offended you’re trying to escape from his grasp again, so instead he’s pulling your body flush against his just under the shower. he stretches an arm back towards the valves and you’re pressing your face into his chest to stop the water from getting into your eyes. it’s getting much warmer faster than you thought, and you’re melting in his hold once more.

he’s nudging your head away from the stream, so he can press his lips to yours. your hand trails up to the back of his head, and your fingers softly scratch his undercut. you’re coyly darting your tongue out to brush against his lip, and he parts them for you to go on. gojo is trying his hardest not to smile as you concentrate on working your tongue against his. those large hands of his are palming the fat of your ass as he pushes his own tongue into your mouth and you whine. he pays no mind to it though, continuing his actions until he’s sure you’re getting stupidly restless under his hold.

“do you trust me?”

you shake your head no. frantically.

“too bad. you’re gonna need a lot of faith in me for this.”

and he was right, you do need a lot of faith in him. because your hands are tightly holding the slim metal pipe of the shower as he raises your hips up.

this is way too risky. you could get really injured; or die! you’re not too keen on having ‘death by failed shower sex’ or your headstone, and the thought alone is enough for you to tell him to put you down.

but once his mind is made up, it’s made up. he just shushes you and tells you to close your eyes, imagine the body of the shower is his sheets! you were gripping onto those pretty hard last time, weren’t you? it’s all in your mind. you should tell him to fuck off right then and there, but his cockhead is already bullying its way into your cunt with an ease that should be illegal.

you’re putting the damn shower to shame compared to how wet you are. gojo is hissing at the warmth enveloping his cock when he finally bottoms out. honestly, he could stay like this forever, just nestled in the heat of your dizzying cunt. but he knows your arms will give out soon enough; so fuck you as best as he can for the time you can keep your body up, like a little reward.

the flow of water hitting your lower back is nothing in comparison to the way he’s pounding into your cunt. he’s holding you low and angling up, and his fat tip is painfully poking that one spongy spot that has your vision spotting. you’re almost glad you’re facing away from him because you look like a fucking mess; open mouth and cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure of it all. your noises are reverberating against the walls and you would usually be ashamed, but there’s nothing on your mind other than holding yourself up and the fat cock that’s currently stretching you out.

satoru is more than impressed, you’re lasting much longer than he thought. he’s resting his forearm against your belly so he can release his other hand and stretch up to pinch at your nipples. you’re sobbing at this point, and he’s feigning concern, asking if you’re okay. the only thing you can respond with is a broken noise. he’s content with how much that brain of yours is focused on him, so he taps your side with two fingers before speaking.

“gonna put you down real quick, okay?”

and you’re so quick to cry out a no, begging him not to stop.”

“relax, princess. just wanna switch positions. your arms hurt, don’t they?”

you don’t register the strain in your arms until after your feet hit the ground. you groan, massaging the fat of your upper arms until you’re getting hit in the face with the shower stream. you’re quickly shifting away, wiping at your eyes like a little kid.

“fuck you.”

“i’m trying.” he snorts, as he places his hands behind your knees. you place your arms on his shoulders and jump, and he mutters a there you go under his breath. you’re slightly higher than he is, but your faces are still so close. he’s fucking stunning, hooded eyes trained on your tits that he’s eye level with as he pushes up into you for the nth time today. your eyes are fluttering shut as his lips close around your nipple, and his hips start to move.

it’s hot, he’s hot, the water is hot and your entire body is on fire with bliss as he pistons in and out of you. his mouth is alternating between each of your sensitive buds, and you’re sighing in contentment at the delicious pace he’s set. he’s still finding a way to push against that sensitive spot over and over, and your orgasm is starting to brew in the pits of your belly.

gojo isn’t too far off himself, but he’s holding out, drinking up every little noise and twitch that you give him. he’s obsessed, mind solely focused on you, you, and you. you’ve been on his mind far long before he got to you that night, he’s going to enjoy every moment he has. whether it be bothering you out in public or milking your cunt on his cock, just like he’s about to do.

your fingers find his hair and pull back sharply as you smash your lips against his. your orgasm is quickly bubbling up and you’re moaning hard into his mouth when it comes. you’re barely able to kiss back, vision going white and voice cracking as you cum for the second time. your whole body is shaking, and just the feeling of you creaming around his cock is sending him over the edge, cum pouring into you in thick spurts.

you both just stay there for a bit, panting and catching your breaths until he puts you down. you grimace as his release leaks down your thigh, and he tuts in disappointment. what a waste.

it’s a comfortable silent walk out of there, different from how much you had to argue for him to give you back your underwear. which you didn’t get back by the way, you can see the edge of the pair sticking out of his pocket as he slings had bag over his broad shoulder. one of his clean shirts is hung around your neck, catching the water that’s dripping from your hair to prevent it from soaking your clothes, although you’re not too worried since the sun has mostly set and the number of students here have dwindled significantly.

you’re spacing out as the two of you walk, sticking your finger in one of the belt loops of his pants. you’re still looking forward when satoru smiles down at you, sliding his arm around your waist.

and you said you hated him. what a joke.

[niyafics]

: •̩̩͙ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 ⋆｡°  •̩̩͙ ໋:🦁

chap1 : sweet talk frat!rich!paige bueckers x reader AU

˳ ⋅ ⊹ wc: 5k (*cries*)

˚ ⋅ ⊹ cw: alcohol (barley), swearing, LOWKEY EMO/LONER READER(i love opposites srry), estranged relationship with parents, golden retriever x black cat dynamic, an au things r diff obviously, the frat is made up lolol and not an established relationship either , lotsa building. angst(?), daddy issues(?). only proofread by me lolllll

˳ ⋅ ⊹ abt: after a long night of serving snobs you try to get a drink and a cute, hyper, frat girl home from college bails you out. now she won’t leave you alone.

˚ ⋅ ⊹(a/n): ty if u waited to read this, n srry if it sucks as always lolol. feel free to still use this idea btw!

ANOTHER exhausting night catering to posh assholes, and their colleagues. Some were easier to service. They screwed their face when you walked up, like you’d been interrupting a conversation, before bluntly repeating their orders, barley slow enough for you to hurriedly jot down.

They don’t thank you when you bring the food, they seldom look at you, like eye contact or a smile costs, and leave a fat tip that was probably change in their pocket.

Other times, it’s almost exactly the same. But, in place of the silence that showed they’re ‘better’, men the age of your parents, slipped a disgusting comment about your figure or an aggressively sexual invitation.

This long in the food industry, you were used to it. A forced laugh usually wards them off, and yet, it makes the evening drag. The 10 hours feels like 20. Your social battery is completely fried by the time you make it to your studio. Usually.

Certain nights, the tips stack so good, you have to reward yourself. This night in particular, you made the rest of your rent, and had fifty dollars extra to spend. Why not get a drink? It had been so long since you had alcohol warming your insides and cheeks. Since you had someone decent looking flirt with you face to face.

Your feet are throbbing after your shift, the money in your pocket keeps you motivated to get at least buzzed.

The bar you choose seems new, at least that’s what it’s listed as, nearby your place. Still cheap, but with a pathetic effort at millennial decorating. You wouldn’t see any of the richies you had to deal with at your job here, sucking their teeth at your chipped nail polish and beaten Vans. Throwing your apron in the backseat, you spray perfume to fight the smell of kitchen on you, and shake your hair free of its tie.

A chimes goes off, as you step inside, the place is almost empty. A middle aged couple play pool in a dim corner, and a few other groups or people spread out, leaving plenty room. Outdated music plays that clashes with the theme, so you get a feeling the decoration is just an effort to keep up with the times. You plop down in a stool at the bar with a grunt, sighing in relief, looking at the menu above, even though you were going to order the last drink you remember.

The bartender is a cute ginger, with freckles dotted on her face and down her arms. She glances over a few times with an apologetic smile, while an inebriated old man talks her ear off. You lift your hand to let her know to take her time, fiddling with a jar of toothpicks in front of you.

The bell echos at the front from behind you, and a rush of obnoxious conversation follows.

It was a warm summer night, and the suburban kids of the wealthy were home from school, but they usually drove through, to the overpriced clubs that suited them. You huffed an annoyed breath, taking a glance behind you. Everyone else’s head swiveled with yours. The children of the wound up business men you’d spent hours tolerating.

“This place stinks, like, actually..” One girl whispered. Two guys beside her laugh like hyenas.

“Yeah, good pick, Bueckers..” Another seethed sarcastically in disgust, with a string of chuckles following.

“Not too bad..” A tall blonde with her hair in a neat low bun pushed through and interjected. That must’ve been Bueckers. She turns to the group and gestures towards the pool table the couple had been playing at. You stared her down in her khaki shorts and pressed, short sleeve polo. Her friends dressed in similar preppy fashion. “Pool table’s cool.”

The couple of boys in outfits similar to hers groaned, moving towards it. The older couple was long gone, seemingly taking the group as a cue to leave. You were taking it as the same, still, you lingered. Your fingers dug into the leather of the back of the chair, looking at the lanky, yet toned, woman established as leader. A shorter girl, with brown hair, in an almost blinding white tennis skirt and jacket set, trailed behind, hooking her arm with Bueckers, as they walked over.

You identified her as the one that commented on the smell, she was right, but you still didn’t like her. A feeling bit at you that you pushed off as irritation, swiveling back around with a closed mouth scowl. The fiery haired bartenders’ kind green eyes met you, raising a brow.

“See someone you know?” She asked while drying a shot glass and setting it back on the rack behind the bar.

“No, thank god,” You joked, another whip of air pushing from your lips, relieving tension. “I’ll take a vodka and sprite, please.” She tilts her head knowingly, and begins to concoct it, while you reach into your pocket to pull out a twenty. Her hair whips back around with the drink and you’ve forgotten about the group. As she sets it down, a frown comes on her face at the sight of the bill. You’re raising your brow now.

“I forgot to tell you, card only, sorry…” The bartender bites her lip nervously, pointing to a sign behind her to back her up. Your shoulders slump, already knowing what your bank account looks like. A pang of disappointment stings your chest but you swallow it, and reach for your card anyways. You don’t know why. You already know it’ll decline. The sprite and vodka bubbles infront of you tauntingly.

“Put it on my tab.” A warm voice speaks up, and you feel a figure take the seat beside you, her long legs not fitting under the bar. They bump your thigh ever so slightly, as she swivels in boredom, facing you. Bueckers from earlier had came up to buy the first round. She shoots you a rosy lipped smirk, her blue eyes searching to meet yours for approval. You look down, putting the money back in your pocket instead, not feeding in. Her bottom lip purses out, brows stitching together so slightly, she probably thought you didn’t see it out the corner of your eye.

She slips a luxury brand wallet out her shorts, still looking at you when her slim fingers drag the thick black AmEx card across the granite bar, thick and shiny. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. Bueckers, (Paige Bueckers, as the AmEx said) was trying to show off. Her icy orbs don’t leave you. You sip from the stirring straw as the bartender takes the card away. “Thank you.” You finally say after she leaves.

“No problem, doll face,” Her confident smirk is back as she scans over your work clothes. You’re not insecure, you fear that she’s sizing you up. That she can see the coffee stain at the bottom of your department store t-shirt, and feels oh-so sorry for you. You take a secretly angry sip. “What are you doing here all alone?”

You roll your eyes so hard they might fall out, finally lifting to meet her stare with a reserved expression. It doesn’t deter Paige, it makes her chuckle instead, and for a second you can hear a hint of nervousness.

“Okay, stupid question, sorry..” Her head turns back to the bar with a blush spreading into her round cheeks. For a second, you smile too, feeling something you can’t place, for a stranger making a corny move at you. Probably from the cocktail. You shake your head trying to pull yourself out of it.

“It’s fine, I’m just getting a drink after work..” You answer, although you usually wouldn’t. Something about the way she drank you in, her eyes pleading for approval with her metal rectangle of riches. It wasn’t hungry or cold, it was more like ‘please like me’. You exchange names, even though you already knew hers.

The server is back over, looking at Paige expectantly for her order. She gets a round of beers, turning back to you.

“Well, if you’re not too tired, you should come play me in pool,” Paige plucks up her card, and each Corona set infront of her. Two in each hand, between her fingers, then carefully swiveling around and standing. “I’ll buy you another.” She winks.

You hold her gaze and your breath until she walks away. Tipsy from the sips due to low tolerance, you slump back into the seat.

You had gone back to the pool table, even though her friends made your stomach twist. Their judgmental looks phased into the background as you and Paige played, the 3 watching, talking amongst one another. She had a talent of making it seem like you were alone.

Paige ordered another drink for you as promised, but you both barely drank again after your first, focused on the generic pool table. On the interesting stranger in-front of you.

Paige had politely demonstrated. Guiding your arms with her own, both lurched over the table, her hunched over you. She has to explain something an extra time, when her hips bump into you, and you space out. Once you get the hang of it, you’re ahead by two, determined to get the 8ball first.

Paige threw her head back once she misses a hole again for the same ball. You can’t help but explode in giggles, covering half your face with your palm. Catching you anyway, she grins at you, a twinkle in her eye as she squints.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, gorgeous.”

Her group watches you both banter, the short brunette coiling her face at you in the same way she did when the sticky stench of the bar hit her nose. You shoot an apologetic smile, awkwardly, even though you hadn’t done anything to her.

Paige ends up winning, with your head start, that you start to suspect was on purpose. Halfway expecting her to try to take you home, something heavy sets over you near the end of the night, asking if you wanted to leave with her. She was beautiful, seemed kind, and generous. Why not?

To your disappointment, and mostly curiosity, she gives the back of your hand a firm kiss instead, swapping numbers, wishing you a good night. You find yourselves turning to steal one more glance, walking to your cars, hers sleek and black with an engine the yelled as she veered away with her companions.

It started off with a simple ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’. You had full intentions of brushing her off after the bar. The two of you had shared a moment, that’s all, nothing would come from someone like that and someone like you.

Paige was persistent. She woke up around 2 when you’re enjoying your last hour of freedom before work, with offers to interrupt her precious rest and take you, pick you up, bring you lunch.

“I have to come in early.”

“I have to stay late.”

“I don’t have a lunch.”

You shot her down, only because you knew she wouldn’t be moved. Secretly, you didn’t want her to know where you worked. The mystery, and push of you was better than the reality, you figured. That you were taking an involuntary gap year from your dream school, you were paying out of pocket for. Refusing to take on too much debt, you saved to return. Friends suggested asking your parents, they weren’t offering, so why ask?

Paige was restless to meet again, you could tell from her invitations sprinkled in every conversation, the past few days. Never could you figure she’d show up to your job though.

You’d been thrilled to leave your shift. It wasn’t bad, it was slow, which is somewhat worse. The dark sports car from a few days ago would have been the farthest thing from your mind, if you didn’t see one so similar to it. Parked right next to your old Honda, in the nearly empty lot.

Your steps slowed and you stared, dumbfounded. The windows were tinted an illegal amount. It’s low rumbling is flicked off and exactly who you figure pops out from inside.

“My dad loves this restaurant.” Paige smiles, like you’re casually meeting here. You nod knowingly.

“Why do you know where I work?” A groan escapes you, trying to speak sternly, your small grin betraying you. The blondes smile stays put, tucking a few of loose curls behind her ear. She waits for you to step closer, to the open car door she’s leaning on with her elbows.

“Yeah, well, my friend said he’d seen you, when he was out to eat not too long ago,” She throws a shrug like the next part is the normal thing that anyone does. “You go to work at 3…they close at 11…I just kind of….” As she spoke it out loud, the pink from a few nights ago returned to her face, heavier now.

“That’s super creepy, you know?” You tease her. If she was anyone else. Heat spreads in your cheeks, shifting the weight on your feet, to distract from it. Still, her ego isn’t bruised.

“You don’t think that,” Said with a chuckle, like she knows it for certain. You’re about to shoot a rebuttal about how she’s basically a stalker. She doesn’t stop speaking. “On your next day off. Let me take you out.” Not said in the form of a question.

“Hm…” You hum, putting your finger to your chin. “I am off tomorrow, but I’m sure you knew that too.” Teasing her again.

“Maybe I do.” She throws her shoulder up with a sly expression. You raise a brow at her that she ignores. “We could go play tennis at the club, or I know a few restaurants. Way stricter dress codes than here, though…Do you have tennis skirts? How about heels? You don’t seem like you’d wear either of those. That’s fine, we can go shopping before we go..” Paige is rambling. Your arms slump in disbelief at how fast she’s talking, having a conversation with herself, almost.

“Or even better, we could make a whole day of the shopping. Then we go to dinner. Forget it, let’s just wait and I’ll get us floor seats to th-“

“Okay, wait!” You stop her before she makes up her mind to fly you out of the state. “This is super overwhelming. I will only go on one condition.”

Paige clings to your every word, finally quiet, her face flushed slightly with embarrassment for over talking.

“It has to be something normal. Something even I can afford.” Paige makes a face at you, like what she named off were tame settings for getting to know someone. You rub your tired face, and walk over to your car, the door creaks when you open it.

“Okay, okay!” She rushes over to you, closing it back, “Something normal. I’ll pick you up, and we can do that.” You tilt your head up at her, both of you soaking each other in for a moment.

“Unless, you’re only capable of lovebombing..” You narrow your eyes at her with a smirk. Paige bursts out laughing.

“It’s not lovebombing, if it doesn’t stop, though.” grinning so hard all her teeth are showing, you don’t realize you are too.

“Right.”

You find yourself dreading Paige seeing your unkept apartment building. At around the time she usually is just waking up, she’s parked outside. Paige doesn’t see you walking up, being too busy with texting you she’s outside for the third time in five minutes.

She has no witty line prepared when you slide into the passenger seat, finally not in your work clothes, or makeup hours old. Her mouth is just gaped open like an idiot, she shuts it, when you give her a weird look.

You smelled like a bakery, in shorts and a crop top to accommodate the weather, with no clue where you were going, only that it’s across town, presumably near where she grew up.

“You look really pretty,” the corner of her lip curls up. It feels awkward, you’re still flustered hearing it. Picking at your nails nervously, while your eyes wandered up her to meet her own pair. She was in denim shorts this time, with a plain T-shirt, white and blue Jordan’s. It looked different from how she dressed at the bar with her friends, you felt less underdressed than you thought you would. “Finally get to see you outside of work.” Paige head turns to you every so often, one hand on the wheel, her elbow leaning against the armrest.

“Thank you, you look good too..” You bite your lip, gazing out the window, as she breaks at a red light. Good was just putting it lightly. Two pieces of her hair braided in the front, the rest straightened past her shoulders. Mascara coated her long lashes, and silver jewelry accented her whole body.

It was real silver and diamonds, you guessed, from the way it glimmered against the light. You stare down her arm taking up most of the rest between you. It reaches down, grabbing your hand, locking fingers automatically. Her thumb rubs the back of your palm.

It’s a park that she pulls into the lot of. A ice cream truck is a few spaces down, with families and small children waiting in line. Paige holds her finger up to you, signaling you to wait there. You don’t question it, unbuckling your seatbelt, agreeing to stay put.

You watch her jog up to the back of the line through the rear view, in front of you the vast greenery, sprinkled with jungle gyms, walking trails, and benches. The park near your apartment had grass high up to your knees, this grass looked like it was trimmed daily.

You’re suddenly anxious to get out the car. Paige comes back, this time holding a coned ice cream and some in a Styrofoam cup with a spoon. She opens your door for you, then hands you the cone.

“Thanks.” You lick a side that was melting, and Paige sticks a spoonful in her mouth beaming, with a nod.

Both of you decide to sit down, and enjoy your frozen dairy in silence for a few minutes. Then you smile and speak.

“Not a fan of cones?” You ask her, taking a long lick. She watches your mouth for a second then gently comes back to reality.

“Too messy.” Paige replies, shaking her head like she’s trying to push a thought away.

“Of course, too messy.” A smile is etched into your face the whole time, barley faltering. Paige gets a feeling you’re teasing her.

“Yeah,” She turns towards you, leaning her elbow on the back of the bench. Another scoop is shoved into her mouth before she dramatically adds. “I only get cones when my butler is here to wipe my mouth, duh.” You shove her shoulder gently, both of you erupting into tiny chuckles.

Small talk drives you crazy, but as you do it with Paige, it warms you up. You even find yourself asking questions. She talks about playing basketball as a kid, all the way to high school. Paige mentions how her dad is essentially a business mogul for a marketing company, and expects her to follow suit. She had been doing well so far, amazing grades, joining the same fraternity, like he wanted her to. Omicron Tau Sigma.

Her apprenticeship at the company her father ran with his fraternity brothers started a week ago, and she didn’t seem worried. As she put it, their less than welcoming children that she was forced to acquaint with and host, was work enough. You figured those were the friends at the bar.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re cool, and I have my moments where I’m worse.”

“Oh I’m sure..” You mumble between laps.

“Watch it.”

Before you know it, it’s your turn. You skip out on a lot of details, telling her a bit of your childhood, that you’re taking a gap year, and aren’t close to your parents. You didn’t have a pre planned multimillion dollar future, that didn’t have to be said.

“I don’t get you.” It’s so sudden, you don’t know how to respond., and you were used to being caught off guard.

“What’s there to get?” Paige nods, like she figured something out. You stare blankly until she further explains.

“You hate people. Or maybe you just seem that way. Either way, you’re closed off,” more vanilla into her mouth, as you’re starting to bite into the waffle cone. “You live alone, no mention of friends—“

“You’re very observant.” You nod thoughtfully.

“You’re very impossible.” Paige mumbles, finishing off her cup, and tossing it in the trash beside the seat.

“I just like being alone, what’s so special about it?” You look off at someone playing with their dog. “It’s the safest place to be. Depending on yourself, the only person who is reliable.” You cringe. It sounded edgy, yet, it was the truth, and you learned it the hard way.

Paige gives her full attention. Her hand crosses on-top of yours. For the first time, she looks sad for you.

“Safe doesn’t mean lonely. And all people aren’t the same.” A quick curl of her lip, lifts and falls from her face. You think about giving her a tough time. Shutting her down. Pushing those thoughts away, you quietly think about what she said, instead. She starts to talk again.

“You can, like…come over. Only if you want…. My place is right on the water.” Paige avoids your eyes, bracing your answer, a coolness to her voice that she seemingly flipped at will.

“Perfect place to throw my remains.” You roll your eyes at her, she wraps a arm around you suddenly, pulling you in.

“Good point.” She huffs, sarcastically, with a stupid grin, resting her chin on the top of your head. You jab her playfully.

You knew exactly the neighborhood she was talking about. With all the mini mansions, and huge pillars near the front doors, turned away from a private lakeshore. You passed it a few times. Your heart thumped thinking about being inside one. One where surely someone from her family would be.

Her rounded puppy eyes, and the look of willingness to follow you everywhere, had you agreeing before you truly scaled out the situation.

The driveway is so long you figured it burns gas just to drive up it. Big to match the massive house sitting beside it. Even her house stood out amongst others, there wasn’t anything traditional or welcoming about it. It was modern and cold, like a display home you didn’t want to mess up.

Paige snaps you out of your daze with the opening of your side. She takes your hand and guides you to the solid white doors. There’s a pin-pad above the silver knob that her fingers type so fast, you’re not sure exactly which number she’s pressing.

You’re staring wide eyed all around, anxiety making your heart drum in your ears. She hasn’t noticed the clamminess in your palm yet, thoughts of pulling it away before you faced whoever was inside stormed your mind. Walking in as friends already raises questions, you could only imagine the drilling questions reserved for Paiges’ partners.

Before you can make up your mind, she’s practically dragging you inside. Paige tosses her socks and shoes, you follow after her. The dark wood is warm under your feet. Heated floors. The interior design is just as minimalist as the outside. A few family portraits, and pictures of Paige at all ages, are blown up larger than you thought they could be, nestled on walls.

One wall, of the living room you get pulled through, to get outside, holds shelves of memorabilia. Framed jackets, paddles, shirts, brooches, several pictures of people in the same colors, trophies all consistent with a theme of gold and navy blue. A golden lion, with luscious mane, in the middle of every piece. You want to slow down and look, maybe even ask questions. You decide to ask when the time is right, considering how annoyed she’d been with explaining it earlier on the bench.

The glass slides open with a whoosh of air. Of course the backyard has been tended to, with lush grass, and intricate stone arrangements around the base of trees. Vibrant flowers are planted in rows around the balcony, between two trees, near the wooden stairs leading to the pier, there’s a hammock, chairs sprawled out nearby.

Walking briskly down the steps, Paige clasps your fingers with her own, guiding you down. She sits with a soft exhale making small waves with her feet in the water. You’re still mesmerized at seeing a lake so clear. You’d never leave this pier if you were her, you tell Paige. She responds with a dry, closed mouth laugh.

“You can have it. And everything that comes with it..” She looks down into the water, or her reflection, you can’t tell. Your eyes don’t leave her, when you sit down on the worn wood. Half your foot is in, and it’s warm, so you drop the other. Her thigh is flush with yours.

“Not having fun in the castle, princess?” You kick the water lightly, sucking in the fresh air deeply. She rests her head on your shoulder, suddenly, making you perk.

“Not really.”

A snarky remark is at the tip of your tongue, so you bite it. How could having everything handed to you, make you sulk in private? You thought, looking at a few fish swimming just below your toes.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“No you don’t.” You reply quickly, thinking about something else instead just in case.

“Yeah, I do,” Her head lifts up to look at you. There’s a slight hurt behind it.

“Shut up,” You sigh, gently pulling the weight of her head back onto you. “It must be…hard to keep up with.” That’s the only way you can put it, to try and soothe her.

“No, it’s not,” She admits, the sun beating down on the both of you through the leaves of trees overhead. “It’s not like working 40 hours a week, and still barely making it, I know.” Your arm wraps around her.

“Your dad graduated from my dream school,” It blurts out of you like vomit. It was drumming in your mind when you saw a diploma with the signature seal to it, framed alongside the other accomplishments. The words don’t stop. “I’m struggling because, yes the pay sucks, and because I’m saving to go back.” You’re almost gritting your teeth at the confessions. Paige pulls away and you let her.

“Damn. Dream school?….Really?” A silence sets over, you not replying. Paige gets up, standing beside you, wet feet dragging water next to you. She holds her hand out, you look up at her for a moment, her hair reflecting to look gold and white. You finally take it, her pulling you to your feet, and slowly up the steps this time around.

Once you reach the grassy yard, Paige stops dead in her tracks, like a deer, barley breathing out. Your feet start to dry in the blades of grass, by the time Paige speaks. Well, whispers.

“Shit, they’re here..” She’s mumbles under her breath. You’re about to ask who but the hearty laugh of a group of older men comes from the living room. “I forgot that was tonight..” Paige pulls the both of you to the side of the house, by the drive way, your legs barely keep up without a jog. Her fingers tap the pin to a room that’s used for coats, shoes, bags, all amounting to the cost of a small house. Theres three steps up to a black door that Paige opens so slowly, it looks like it pains her. You squeeze her wrist, stopping her.

“What?” She whispers.

“Who are we running from?” You whisper back.

Paige doesn’t respond, letting you hear the chatter of now voices young and old. Then she raises a brow at you, her only answer, twisting back towards the entrance.

“Because of me?” Your voice cracks as you ask. Paige turns around sharply, taking your face in her hands, brows furrowed in seriousness, foreheads nearly pressed together.

“Never. Because. Of you.” Her hushed, stern, tone makes a feeling you don’t recognize in your stomach, flip the desert inside it. “Okay?” This part is soft, and so is her expression. You nod slowly, as if in a trance, not wanting her mouth to move away from yours.

Having to fight back the urge to clash lips, Paige quietly steers you into the kitchen, the door closing behind you with a click.

Her slim shoulders drop, like you’re finally safe, bare sets of damp feet padding to the refrigerator. It’s roomy, and untouched, with the same dark flooring from the living room, where deep voices still laugh and discuss amongst each other loudly. The marble island sits in the middle, between the stove and fridge. A TV is installed outside of the door she digs two seltzers out of.

She gestures for you to follow her. You’re frozen still. Eyes bulging out your skull, social anxiety causing a tremble through you, at the sight of the small group crowding in. It was the other three, one guy shorter, with a mullet, the other taller, skinner than Paige, and of course, the brunette. An evil smirk stretches across her lip fillers, letting you know nothing good will come from this interaction.

It wasn’t them you’d been worried about though, it was the man towering behind Paige, his arms crossed, features scrunched in a frown, similar to Paige’s own. Mr. Bueckers, it has to be.

The way she jumps, when she swivels away from you, makes you think she’s going to drop the cans, instead, she squeezes them until they dent on the sides.

“So nice of you to join us, Paige. With company too?” He lets out a low, unimpressed, whistle.

🦁chapter 2

[bullet-prooflove]

Daywalker: John Shen x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @miraclesabound @cannonindeez @fadeinsol @nommingonfood @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

Dick Pics - You and John discuss your dating life in the ambulance bay during a rare shift break.

Brunch - John refuses to give up when you miss brunch with him.

Silly Little Boys (NSFW) - John's not like the other men you've been with.

In The Summer - You discover John's secret.

Tiger, Tiger - John reveals the truth between his engagement and his history.

Jack - John's mother opens up old wounds by giving John a copy of your DCFS file.

Bare (NSFW) - John and you commit to each other in a special way.

The Shirt - Jack realises that you're wearing a boyfriend shirt.

Tradition - Mrs Shen makes a decision regarding the wedding.

Thanksgiving in The Pitt is batshit fucking crazy.

Bust ups, burns, accidently amputated appendages, the list goes on. The waiting room heaves to capacity, the ambulance bay is an endless stream of drop offs. Each doctor is turning over five patients an hour, getting them situated in the halls because food poisoning is the leading cause of illness during this holiday and the majority of them need drips due to dangerous levels of dehydration.

Throughout the chaos John catches glimpses of your presence, a flash of that neat bun, the sound of your voice carrying across the room, your signature on some of his intake paperwork. They’re the only signs of your existence during the nightmare shift.

It’s 4am when he finally gets a break, he takes a leak before heading out to the ambulance bay in his scrubs, sucking in a deep breath of cool, refreshing as soon as he steps onto the concrete.

You’re already waiting for him at your usual spot by the wall, there’s a brown paper bag alongside you with two plastic cups of cold brew coffee. Your rig is parked just to the right, the sounds of you partner’s snoring from the back echoing through the lot.

“I gotta warn you now.” You say as he approaches. “No hugs, I stink of vomit and other indescribable substances.”

“You think I care about that?” John asks placing his hands on his hips and tipping his head towards the E.D. “It’s like Saint Patrick’s Day all over again in there, I’m completely desensitised at this point.”

You roll your eyes to the heavens, stepping towards him. “Well played, you know I’m a goner for that slutty little hip thing you do.”

His arms wrap around you, drawing you into the shelter of his form. You fit against him perfectly, like two pieces of a shattered vase being reacquainted. His lips brush over your temple and he can feel the tension ebb out of your body as he cradles you close.

You’ve been away over the last few days in Seattle at the Paramedic Professional Development Conference. This is the first time he’s laid eyes on you since you’d gotten back into town because the day shift had gotten overwhelmed and he’d had to come in early.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles into your hair. “None of the other paramedics are nearly as much fun.”

Your chest vibrates with laugher against his and he can’t help but smile at the sensation as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“You mean none of the others bring you coffee and turkey subs at four in the morning.” You point out and he shrugs his shoulders in response.

“They aren’t as cute either.”

“Yea, I know.” You say, taking his hand and leading him towards the wall. The two of you take a seat before unwrapping your sandwiches. “Trust me Chicago Fire has given the public some very unrealistic expectations in that department. You won’t believe how many people have been disappointed by the lack of hot firemen pulling up tonight.”

“Same here with Grey’s Anatomy. Although Abbot did get called McSteamy and Grumpy Daddy tonight so that was very entertaining.” He takes a bite from the sub and moans. “Christ have I told you how much I adore you recently?”

“Not nearly enough.” You tease, nudging his shoulder. “You’ll have to worship me when we get off shift, remind me why I keep coming around.”

“The videos I sent when you were away weren’t enough?” He counters, balling up the packaging between his hands and tossing it into the brown paper bag. “Me fucking the panties you left on my pillow?”

Your cheeks flush as you bite your lower lip and it’s just the sweetest damn thing.

“Did you give anymore thought to the other thing we were talking about?” He asks you, picking up his cold brew and sipping through the straw. “The Field Training Officer position?”

“Hm.” You respond noncommittedly. “Had a conversation with Anderson before I left Seattle about the program. It would mean changing my shift for a few months so I could fit the course in during the evening time and I’m not sure how much I’d like being a day walker.”

A day walker, it’s what the night shift people call those that make the transition back to regular office hours. It can be a jarring adjustment after you’ve spent so long in the darkness.

John doesn’t think that’s the real issue though. He suspects you’re concerned about how your life is going to change compared to that of the people around you.  Abbot, Faye, him, all work the nightshift and altering the routine will throw you out of sync with the support network you’ve build up over the years. You fear becoming isolated again, that they won’t be able to find time for you.

“Cici.” He says softly, his fingers threading through yours. “My feelings won’t change because you’re working the day shift, we can still do breakfast or dinner, find the sweet spot when we’re not working weekends. Our relationship will adapt, the same way it will with Abbot and Faye, nobody’s going to abandon you because you’re trying something new.”

“It’s just… it’s a big change.” You say quietly, poking at the ice in your drink with the straw.

“Change can be good even if it is a little scary.” He reassures you, his thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. “I know you’re going to rock this and I promise I will be here to support you. Quizzing you, feeding you, helping you to ‘destress’.”

The edges of your mouth tip up into a smile before you tilt your head towards hm.

“You really think I can do it?” You ask him and John’s palm comes to cradle your face, his thumb ghosting over that tiny scar just at the edge of your right eye.

“Cici.” He says firmly. “I think you can do anything you god damn want to.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[luveline]

Hello! If you are in the mood for it, I’d love to read some more hurt/comfort w zombie au Steve! Is it bad I love when reader gets hurt? Maybe she almost gets bitten and can’t run away for some reason, or if you have another idea that is better (my brain isn’t working rn) thank you! Have a lovely day, be kind to yourself!

zombie au | fem, 1.3k

“Ready?” 

Steve kneels, offering his palms braced ready for your foot. “Ready.” 

You take a running start and press your foot into his palms, gasping breathlessly at the sudden weightlessness of his strength underneath you, pushing you up as your hands scrabble for purchase at the top of the wall. Steve does his best to help you all the way over, on his tiptoes no doubt as he pushes the bottoms of your shoes and forces you onto the second story. 

Your hands ache. The floor is cluttered with chunks of plaster that bite your skin as you struggle onto your knees. 

“Anything stand out?” Steve asks from below. 

There’s a vinyl player cracked and on its side by the wall, a shelf of albums in faded disarray beside it. You climb onto your feet, careful of the warped floorboards and the darkest mould of water damage to the right side of the room. “Uh, there’s a lot of stuff up here.” 

The bed is sinking into itself, once pink sheets turning an unfortunate orange from sun and weather alike, the wardrobe spilled and sprayed in all directions. Any clothes worth wearing will be in the dresser on the dry side of the room, or through the door and in another bedroom. “I think there might be pajamas and underwear and stuff in the dresser. I don’t know how I’m gonna get you up, though.” 

“I’ll look for something. Be careful, okay?” 

You turn to the edge, peering down at Steve with a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Shout if you need me.” 

“Sure.” He smiles back. “Seriously, be careful.” 

“There’s not much in here.” 

“That hasn’t stopped you getting yourself hurt before.” 

“Is that snark I’m detecting?”

“Baby, when I get up there,” he threatens without heat. 

You blow him a slightly uncharacteristic kiss and wave your fingers at him. 

You and Steve work in a quiet tandem clearing the house for things you can use. You have a rather large list of things you’re going to need soon; underwear for both of you, socks, some pants that will actually fit Steve, soap, a bedroll or anything that could work as one, batteries for the radio, a torch, etc. The list goes on. 

The underwear situation is dire. You’ve started wearing boxers in lieu of any better option. Steve says he likes the look of them —you can’t believe him sometimes. You have hair on your thighs and the boxers aren’t a cute look, the last time he tried to kiss your stomach you both realised you had a streak of dirt on your ribs you’d failed to scrub away in the stream. You never, ever feel clean, but it doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t find you pretty. Same way you find him handsome in his holey jeans or with enough grease in his hair to fry your cuts of rabbit. 

The dresser proves hopeful. The top drawer has underwear that at first glance seem too small, but when stretched have enough give to work out fine. You won’t find boxers in here for Steve and you aren’t sure he’ll like the hipster cut of the panties you pocket. “Steve?” 

“Yeah?” he calls. 

“I’m gonna go see if there’s more bedrooms.” 

“No, hey!” He comes running into the living room below you, looking severe. “Hey, wait for me first, you don’t know what’s up there?” 

That’s why you’re going to be cautious. “Steve, I have the knife, and we would’ve heard by now if there was a geek up here,” you say, heading back for the door, “they’re pretty loud when they–”

You’re flat on your back before you’ve even really opened the door. 

As urgent as things may be, the second you realise it’s a geek on top of you, you can’t stop yourself from thinking you deserve it for being so smug. And then you start screaming. 

It’s a gnashing, gnarly mess of black gore and greened skin, the stink of it turning your stomach, it’s weight heavy and hard on your chest. Fuck, it hurts more than it scares you, all snapping, faltering teeth. Trapped. You squirm and shriek, your panic turning to rage as you slam your hand into the things throat and push it upwards, away from you, but it’s so fucking big —why is so huge? You shriek again as its teeth snap at your hand, but you’re not completely useless, not fully, pulling the knife from your shallow pocket and flicking it open one-handed like you’ve practiced. With a cry, you slam it as deep as it’ll go into the geeks neck. Miss, you pull it out and slam again, looking for the stem. You must stab the thing ten times before it stops grunting and goes still, your lips crammed tightly shut as blood gushes down its back and the ridges of your arm. 

You realise Steve’s screaming your name in the quiet. 

“Answer me!” He shouts. “Are you okay? Answer me!” 

You pant. “Fine! Fine, it didn’t bite me!” Heat pools behind your eyes anyways, the memory of its teeth grazing your hand startling. You push at the body, needing to analyse your hand, quickly, there’s still time to cut the whole thing off— 

You’re trapped. 

“Steve, I can’t get it off me,” you say, squeezed and panicking, “I can’t move, I– I can’t–”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay, I’m coming up! I’ll be right there, I’m gonna be right there!” 

It takes him ten minutes. You devolve into a frenzy of panic and defeat, trapped by such a monstrous thing. It must be four hundred pounds of gored decay. You can feel it wetting your clothes. 

Steve eventually clambers up onto the bedroom’s weak floor with a groan and a frantic, “Babe!” 

“I’m fine!” 

He drags himself across the floor, throws himself at the geek to push it off of you, and it’s so heavy full of water or mould or whatever it is that’s inside these devils that you have to push as hard as you can beside him before the geek sags onto its side and releases you. You’re crying great shuddery tears as you flop into Steve’s embrace, his chest moving like a hummingbirds under your cheek. 

“Sorry!” you say, clutching him tightly. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” he says back, between gasps that sound painful. Still, he attempts gentleness. “It’s okay, you’re okay, it didn’t get you? Are you sure? Let me look, honey, I need to see.” 

You twist away to let his gaze run over your neck and face. “My hands,” you offer. 

“I can’t tell. I– you’re covered in fucking blood.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It’s–” If it bit you, you’re dead already. Steve clutches you so hard that you’re worried your head is going to pop off of its stem. “Why can’t you just be careful?” he asks quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why can’t you–” He cuts himself off, his nose digging into your ear. “It didn’t get you?” 

“No. No, I don’t think so.” 

Steve pushes you away from him far too quickly for your liking, but you forgive him when you realise he’s checking your hand against the light coming in from down below you. If you were bitten you’re sure you’d feel it by now, and if there were teeth marks in your hands, he’d see them already. 

“What the fuck is that thing?” Steve asks in a mutter, pressing your bloodied hands to his chest. 

You bite your lips. “I,” you say softly, terrified and tired and thankful your new underwear is still clean on the dresser, “don’t have a fucking clue.” 

[featseungmin]

breathe || ksm

kim seungmin x reader

A little league game is the perfect opportunity to introduce your boyfriend to your family. Word Count: 3,212 Genre: fluff Notes: hints of tall!reader, American!reader, reader gets hit by a baseball Thank you to @eerieedits for the beautiful banner once again, and to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-ing 💙💙

“Breathe.” You bump your shoulder into Seungmin’s lightly, your voice soft as you try to make him more comfortable. 

He’s been low-key freaking out since you invited him to the game. And you get it. Really, you do. A last-minute little league game isn’t the most conventional place to meet your girlfriend’s family. Most people do dinner. A casual outing. Maybe a nice cookout.

Not a last-minute invite to a 12-year-old’s home opener when you just happen to be in the area on a mini-vacation.

Seungmin laughs and squeezes your hand, making a show of taking a deep breath. “I’m not nervous,” he declares, and you’d believe him if you didn’t know him so well.

“Sure.” You lean into him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You have no reason to be. They’re gonna love you.”

It’s April, and it’s freezing, and you didn’t really pack the clothes to sit for two hours on metal bleachers. But you moved to Korea before your cousin started playing baseball, and you haven’t yet been able to watch him play. And Seungmin, bless him, had been so eager to agree when you’d told him about the game.

You stand in the gravel parking lot, waiting for your aunt and uncle to come find you. You can tell Seungmin’s nervous just based on how he’s standing. He’s got your hand shoved into the pocket of his hoodie in an attempt to be casual, but the way he’s bouncing up and down on his toes is a dead giveaway. It’s cute. He’s cute. 

When your aunt finally does find you, she greets Seungmin like he’s already family, hugging him right alongside you. You barely even have time to get his name out; she just pulls him right in. He practically squeaks in surprise, but otherwise, he doesn’t say anything, just returns the hug warmly. 

It’s sweet, how doe-eyed he is as your aunt leads you to where they’re sitting. “This isn’t what I was expecting,” he whispers, leaning in close. 

And truthfully, you don’t blame him. The field is small compared to the youth fields in Seoul, with only three sets of bleachers and a small, rickety concession stand. You aren’t even sure there’s a locker room, just the batting cages where the players for the upcoming game are congregated.

Your cousin sees you first, and even though you haven’t seen him in years, he’s the same kid you remember. Same dirty blond hair, lanky frame, crooked, doofy smile. He’s just taller. He launches himself at you, and you have to quickly separate yourself from Seungmin to avoid getting you both knocked over. 

“You’re here!” Braydon buries his face into your stomach, his deep blue hat pushing back off his head and falling into the dirt.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

After a second, he pulls away and eyes Seungmin, who stands just off to the side. “Who’s the dude?” he asks flatly.

You can’t help but laugh. He’s so serious as he’s staring Seungmin down, even though he’s more than two feet shorter. It’s not even threatening–you don’t think he’s trying to be–more like he’s trying to size up this new person, get a read on him. But he’s 12 and doesn’t know much about people, so it comes out more like he’s giving your partner the stink eye.

Seungmin snorts, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Pretty big words for someone so short.”

“This is my partner, Seungmin.” You introduce him hurriedly, hooking your arm around his bicep. You aren’t really sure what else to say. You’ve never gotten to the point where you’ve wanted to introduce a partner to your family, let alone any from after you’d moved away. “He likes baseball, too.”

Your uncle offers a hand first. “Boomer.” He says it almost gruffly, as if the name isn’t entirely an inside joke. 

Seungmin looks at you, confused, and you whisper a soft, “Don’t ask.” before he leans forward and shakes your uncle’s hand. He shakes your aunt’s hand, too, when she introduces herself, even though she’s already hugged him. 

Braydon picks up his hat, eyes still narrowed at Seungmin. “What position?” He asks it like it’s an interrogation. And really, you suppose it is. For a 12-year-old, this might be the most important question your boyfriend could ever answer.

“Pitcher. You?”

“First base.”

“Nice. That’s a tough position.”

Your cousin nods. You get the sense that a test has been passed.

A man in his mid-30s shouts, and suddenly, all the boys milling about around you spring into action, jogging into the dugout. After a few moments, they all end up out on the field with their gloves and a bucketful of baseballs. Your uncle gestures toward the metal bleachers on this side of the fence.

“Mom and dad coming?” you ask as you slide onto the cold bench. You hope it sounds casual, though based on the way Seungmin squeezes your leg when he sits, you aren’t sure you’re successful.

Your aunt shakes her head. “Your dad had to work.”

You aren’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

Thankfully, you don’t have much time to consider it. The PA system crackles to life, a familiar guitar melody floating out over the field. You laugh just as Seungmin’s head whips to look at you, confusion evident on his face. You have no idea why his song is playing, but you have a feeling your cousin is behind it.

“They all add two songs to the team playlist,” your aunt supplies helpfully from behind you. She continues, voice dropping to a whisper. “He’s been obsessed with the idea of a famous person in the family since you told us.”

“Kid’s got good taste,” Seungmin says, but there’s a slight pink to his cheeks and a shy smile on his lips.

It’s not even the bottom of the first by the time Seungmin starts to fidget. He’s never been able to sit still–his members make fun of him for it all the time–but this is the quickest you’ve seen him start to get antsy. At first, he drums on his knees along with the beat of the walk-up songs. He shifts his weight. First, forward, with his forearms on his knees. Then, back, holding onto the back of the metal bleachers to help him keep his balance. The old, weathered seats creak and groan every time he moves. He taps his toes against the footrest at particularly tense parts, moves his whole body to track the ball when it’s hit.

You slide closer, a little weary of blocking the view for your aunt and uncle behind you, but you curl in on yourself slightly and press closer into Seungmin’s side. He shifts slightly to accommodate you, the warmth of him more than enough to keep the chill of the wind at bay. You rest your arm across his thigh, hand brushing the inside of his knee, and almost immediately, he stops fidgeting, choosing instead to play with your fingers.

You know that, deep down, he’s nervous, even though your aunt and uncle have been unbelievably normal about meeting him, more than you’d expected, all things considered. But at the same time, he’s sort of always like this, a constant stream of energy bubbling just below the surface, begging to be released in some way. You’ve long grown used to the pacing, the tapping, the stretching. 

It’s sweet, how quickly he’s pacified by simply having your hand in his. Like a puppy with a favorite toy, he’s content to sit there, tracing your fingers, pressing his palm against yours, comparing the size of your hand to his own. After years of being together, he’s mapped your hands probably thousands of times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew the planes of both of yours better than he knew his own. Even now, his focus is rapt on the pitcher, but his fingers trace your knuckles like a worry stone.

He’s still through the top of the fifth inning, even though the game is mostly uneventful. Your cousin’s team isn’t great–more Bad News Bears than the Cubs, if you’re being honest. But they manage to keep the other team to two runs. 

“He’s pretty good,” Seungmin says after your cousin snags a ball out of the air. He cheers when Braydon rears back and rockets the ball toward home in an attempt to get the runner out. The catcher fumbles it, and the other team scores, but beside you, your partner beams. “Wicked throw!”

“He did some extra practice in the off-season,” your uncle explains. “He asked Santa for pitching lessons.”

You laugh. “They seem like they paid off.”

The inning switches over without much fanfare. It’s slow going, watching your cousin’s team stumble their way to success. The first batter–halfway through the lineup–walks without swinging once. The second one up manages to single, and he’s barely able to make it to first before the ball. Before the next batter makes it to the plate, the other team’s coach calls a time out and swaps their pitcher with their second baseman. 

The incoming pitcher warms up, and beside you, Seungmin starts to get restless again. He curls an arm around your own and pats your hand in time with the beat of the song playing over the loudspeaker. It’s some 80s song that you’re only vaguely familiar with. He lets out a soft ‘oof’ as the other pitcher launches a fastball right over the plate as he warms up. The smack of the ball against the leather of the catcher’s mitt echoes over the music.

“Kid’s good.” 

You hum in agreement. “He looks like a mini-you.”

“Oh?”

“Look at him. He’s like 80 percent leg.”

The laugh that bubbles out of him is melodic, if not a little crazed. The kid on the mound isn’t very tall, but he’s lithe and leggy and more or less what you’d imagine a pre-teen Seungmin would have looked like. 

“Braydon hates hitting off Cade,” your aunt says. “His dad teaches the pitching camp he went to.”

You turn to respond, leaning against Seungmin’s shoulder so that you can look at her properly. “He’s really good. Is his dad-”

The sharp ding! of ball meeting bat barely registers. You hear someone–a man, maybe the first base coach?–yell “Heads!” and beside you, Seungmin barely gets out a panicked “oh!” before the ball is over the fence. You feel it before you see it, a sharp thump against the bend of your knee. It stings, even through your jeans, the way leather on skin at a high velocity tends to do. 

You laugh.

Your aunt and uncle do, too. 

Because it’s ridiculous. You travel all the way around the world, come to one baseball game, and of course, you get hit by the first foul that flies over the fence. Ridiculous. 

Beside you, Seungmin looks at you like you got hit in the face instead of the fatty part of your leg. “You should pay more attention to the game,” he scolds, as if this wasn’t the first time in five innings that you looked away from the field. But his eyes are soft, and he reaches across you to gently prod at your knee. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine. Barely even hurts.”

“Do you want me to go see if they have ice?”

You shake your head. “Nah. It’s not that bad.”

“That was a heavy pitch.” His voice is low, soft. You know he’s worried. Even though his first instinct is always to scold, and to pick, and to grouse, he’s a worrier.

“Would it make you feel better to go get me ice?”

“I just don’t want it to swell. I can’t drive the rental car.”

“Okay, puppy.” You squeeze his hand. “Some ice would be great.”

Your uncle points off to the left, toward home plate. “They have it at the concession stand. It’s just a Ziploc baggie, but-”

“Ice is ice.” Seungmin kisses your temple quickly before sliding off the bleachers. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s not even 10 steps away when your aunt yanks you backwards so that you’re leaning against her legs. “He seems sweet.” She whispers it like it’s gossip, like you’re in high school and talking about a boy.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” You grin.

It’s an understatement. Of course it is. But before you can elaborate, the crack of a bat draws your attention. It’s a solid bunt, and you cheer for the kid whose name you don’t know as he runs hard to first. The ball bounces into the alley between the center and right fielder and rolls its way toward the fence, leaving the other team to scramble backwards to retrieve it and get it in. Kid–whose name you can’t pick out from the cheering–jams his foot into the bag and rounds toward second just as the kid that had been on second hits home. The point ignites something in the dugout; you can see your cousin’s team jumping and screaming through the chainlink. 

Things calm down. The next batter comes up. There’s a kid on second and another on third. 

“So he’s good? We like him?” Your aunt questions, her hands back on your shoulders. “You’ve never let us meet anyone.”

“Yeah.” It’s soft, but you can’t really bring yourself to say it any louder. 

It’s been nearly two years, but even still, your relationship with Seungmin is still just that. Soft. Tender. Strong at the edges and goey in the middle like some of the best desserts. You could wax poetic, say how he makes you better, how you like to think that you’ve grown separately stronger by working together. 

That he’s somehow simultaneously made you realize why all of your–admittedly few–past relationships didn’t work out and ruined the entire male population for you forever.

That it doesn’t matter where you go, whether it’s on vacation or following him across the world from tour stop to tour stop–as long as he’s there, you can find a home anywhere.

You could tell her all of that. And maybe, someday, you will. Instead, though, you just nod. “He’s good. I think I’ll keep him. For a little while, at least.”

“He likes you,” Boomer says, eyes still on the field. His face is shadowed by the baseball cap he’s wearing, dark blue to match Braydon’s own, pulled low. 

“Yeah?” 

You don’t really need to hear him say it. You know Seungmin likes you. You know he loves you. But it’s nice to hear someone else recognize it. It’s nice to hear that it’s obvious, even to someone who doesn’t know your dynamic and doesn’t know him.

He nods, clears his throat, groans when the kid at bat swings on an above-the-shoulder pitch. “Hopefully you guys can find time to come around more.” 

“We miss you.” Your aunt squeezes your shoulders before getting distracted by the pitcher walking the hitter. “Good try, Harrison! Way to watch the ball!” she yells. 

And when her hands don’t immediately come back to rest on your shoulders, you lean forward.

It’s good timing, because Seungmin climbs back up into the bleachers. They clank and jump under his weight as he clambors over the two rows of seats. He settles on your other side now, the side you got hit on, and gently presses the bag of ice he’s retrieved against your knee. You take it from him, fingers curling around his own. 

“Your cousin was very worried about you,” he says, just as Braydon walks up to the plate.

“Yeah?” you question, your grip on his hand tightening. 

Bases are loaded. 

You don’t envy your cousin right now.

“He came running out of the dugout asking if you were the one that got hit.” Seungmin winces as Braydon whiffs on a high pitch. “I told him we’d have to amputate your leg.”

“You didn’t.”

He hums. “He said you’re lucky you didn’t get hit in the head. It would’ve knocked out what little brain you have left.”

“Did he really?” 

Honestly, you’d believe it. Your aunt and uncle raised him to be a sarcastic little shit in their image. Unfortunately, you don’t know if he really said it, or if Seungmin’s just being a menace.

Braydon swings on another high ball, and behind you, your uncle shouts. “Come on, B! Head on the ball.”

“We were chatting, too, while he was warming up,” Seungmin continues. “He’s nervous about the bases being loaded.”

You watch as the pitcher tosses one into the dirt at Braydon’s feet. Your aunt cheers behind you.

“Yeah? What’d you tell him?”

The pitcher prepares. You watch Braydon toe the dirt, adjust his grip on the bat, take a deep breath. The pitch comes hard and fast, a real heater right down the center. You squeeze Seungmin’s hand just as the bat cracks.

The ball travels in slow motion, a perfect arc through the air. The infielders don’t even try, it’s over their heads and behind them in an instant. The centerfielder starts to run in an attempt to back up his partner in right field. They run hard, tracking the ball back, back, back…

They hit the fence. The ball bounces into the grass on the other side.

You and Seungmin spring to your feet. The bag of ice plops to the pavement below. The roar that erupts, from the stands and from the dugout, is deafening. Seungmin’s arms wrap around you as you cheer together, jumping up and down in sync on the rickety bleachers. 

Braydon takes his time jogging around the bases. As he passes where you’re sitting, along the first base line, he sticks his index finger up in the air, twirling it in a circle like the cocky little shit that he is. A massive grin has taken over the entirety of his face. 

By the time Braydon makes it back to home plate, his entire team has poured out of the dugout. He stomps the plate and immediately is engulfed in a sea of helmet pats and team hugs. They’re all still screaming.

“Shit,” your uncle says once the cheering has died down. “Now I owe him $100.”

The game continues. Outs come quickly, and the inning ends without much more excitement. 

When the inter-inning music starts up, you’re met with another one of Braydon’s song choices. The staccato synth of “Chk Chk Boom” rings out across the field as the other team tosses around the ball. You and Seungmin laugh, and you shoot finger guns at him on-beat.

“What the fuck did you tell him in the dugout?” you ask, leaning close. 

You have no idea where the bag of ice has gotten to, but Seungmin’s hand still rests against your knee, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the lump that’s slowly forming there. 

He shrugs, as if it’s nothing. “I just told him to breathe.”

[chrisevansonly]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭2 | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

✯social media au

✯lando norris x female reader

✯a glimpse into life as new parents

✯here is a little requested pt2 to promoted! sorry i’ve been a bit slow recently, i’m just working through some stuff, i’m working through requests as well, and they are open if anyone is curious!

ynnorris

liked by landonorris, mclaren, danielricciardo and 1M others

surprise surprise, everyone meet sasha marie norris. lando and I are very excited to introduce her to you all, I am very tired but it was totally worth it. mommy and daddy love you so much♥️

tagged landonorris

see 456,000 comments

username congratulations!!

username oh sasha is such a cute name 🥹

mclaren congratulations to you both, we can’t wait to see little sasha at the track🧡

liked by landonorris and ynnorris

danielricciardo oh man im crying, full on sob fest rn

>landonorris welcome to my past 48 hours mate😭

charles_leclerc congrats you two! can’t wait to meet her!

>ynnorris ♥️

username please they’re going to be the best parents😭

landonorris i love you both so much, thank you for bringing her into the world, you’re a rockstar baby❤️

>ynnorris I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, i love you lan♥️

landonorris

liked by ynnorris, martingarrixx, carlossainz55 and 2M others

i’ve been incredibly lucky to experience watching my wife grow our little girl for 9 months before bringing her into our lives. i don’t know anyone else stronger than her and someone who loves with her entire soul. y/n i love you so much, thank you for giving us the gift of a daughter, I’ll continue to love and support you and sasha for as long as i’m here❤️

tagged ynnorris

see 545,000 comments

username UGLY SOBBING

username so i’ll just like drink bleach?

username😭😭

ynnorris lando baby i love you so so much❤️

>ynnorris i’m sobbing right now and it’s your fault

>landonorris im sorry darling, be there soon❤️

carlossainz55 when he has a way with words 😭

liked by landonorris

username i just know he’ll be the best dad ever

ynnorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

ynnorris

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lilyhme and 998,000 others

uncle charles is watching sasha for a few hours which means lando and I get to have a little date🩷

tagged landonorris

see 104,000 comments

username i need charles and sasha content rn

username “uncle charles” 😭😭

charles_leclerc willing to babysit anytime, sasha is so cute❤️

>ynnorris you’re the best🩷

>landonorris just remember she will not root for ferrari

>charles_leclerc we’ll see about that mate

username y/n is literally gorgeous🫣

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, ynnorris, landonorris and 2M others

uncle charles on duty, there’s a whole lot of snuggling and sleeping happening over here, we have a little ferrari fan in the making 😉

tagged ynnorris, landonorris

see 234,000 comments

username charles is in his uncle era

username why is this the cutest thing ever😭

landonorris babysitting duties revoked

>ynnorris i’m sorry what was that?

>charles_leclerc yeah lando what was that?

>landonorris 😑😑

ynnorris oh char these photos are so stinking cute!!! thank you for watching her🥺🩷

>charles_leclerc i’ll send you all the photos i took, i’d be happy to watch her anytime❤️

username why does the world want me in pain 24/7?

ynnorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

psst

*dumps fanart of Eddie surrounded by all the Bucks from your various fics*

IM FINISHEDD YAAY hooh 🎉🎉

ft. a really smol Eddie since he wouldn’t fit if I made him any bigger

this was just to show appreciation for all the works you’ve made for them they’ve brought me such joy!! Kudos if you can recognize from which fics they’re from but I tried to make them as recognizable as possible. There were so many versions of Buck I wanted to include!! (Ahem vampire!buck ahem zombieapocalypse!buck but mm)

Who knows? Maybe I’ll make a Buck version surrounded by your Eddies?   But that is for another time 😔 

wait is it even high quality

WHAT. WHAT. WHAT!?!?

OH MY GODDDD????

THIS IS SO STINKING BEYOND CUTE I'M. I'M. W H A T.

*shoves this in everyone's faces* LOOK AT THIIIIIIIIIIS!

Aha well clockwise from top left we got Incubus!Buck, Werewolf!Buck, Ghost!Buck, Persephone!Buck, Dark!Buck, Witch!Buck, and Stripper!Buck. WEREWOLF BUCK IS SO CUTE I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT!!!!

Thank you thank you thank you dear, this absolutely made my day!!!

[somniumfaults]

so i have buch of omegaveush headcnaon iwould moslty hedacnon jin as alpha soem eomga to be be bue funny so cuase jin as oemga suttf plese not him with thoma idont like my top 3 boys are haku towa and leo and i like all the boys exuceo form thoma out m top 3 boys haku ican see anyu towa and leo dneilfy oemgas

thanks for the request! I ended up writing some headcanons for omega Leo, omega Towa, and omega Haku <3

warning: NSFT under the cut!

Omega Leo

Leo as an omega is territorial. His room is his place and he doesn’t want just anyone sullying his space with their stink. He doesn’t even let Sho into it unless absolutely necessary.

During his heats, he shuts himself up in his room and gets angry if anyone even tries to get near him. He’s bristly and on edge of almost everyone who would dare get near him, even if they’re trying to bring him food and water. He doesn’t trust easily.

Even though you’re his partner, he’s still begrudging about letting you come into his room and help him. He doesn’t mind your scent—as huffy as he is, he does like you and his brain recognizes your scent as comforting—but it doesn’t mean he’s comfortable letting himself be this vulnerable around you, especially during the early stages of your relationship. 

Early stages being relative, because you weren’t even allowed into the room at first and had to work your way up to actually being able to physically help relieve him.

If you’re an alpha, forget about it. You had to wait ages before he even felt comfortable letting you anywhere near his room, much less into it. You could leave food and water by the door, and if you really wanted to help, leave him a shirt or something. But he was not letting you even think about the opportunity of getting to touch him during his heat. There was no way someone like you would be able to hold yourself back from an omega who looked and smelled as good as him. It’s only after a looooong time that he finally feels comfortable enough to let you help him through his heats.

The same is more or less true for your ruts, although he’s a little bit more willing when it comes to those. At least then he isn’t the one horny out of their mind and fucked up because of it, even if his body does react in order to accommodate the neediness of an alpha during rut. If you’re the needy mess, he can be in control and take over the pace if necessary. He can be the one wringing whines and moans out of you, and he’s not above tying you down if you’re being too unruly and he has to. That’s the only way he even agrees to help you through it the first time. It was a hesitant agreement to begin with, and he had needed a failsafe in case your self-control slipped. He may have been a bottom, but he was the dominant in the situation.

If you’re an omega, his willingness to allow you into his room cracks much earlier. You’re far less susceptible to the scent of another omega in heat, so he doesn’t have to be so wary of you being like one of those brutes. It definitely helps that your scent is soothing to him, and while it doesn’t necessarily take the edge off in the way having sex with an alpha would, it makes getting through the whole process a lot more bearable. And after a certain point, he sure wouldn’t be against accepting your help and having a little bit of fun together in the meantime! He likes seeing your reactions; you’re so cute and he’ll wring the both of you dry. Bonus points depending on how quickly and easily he can get you to cry :)

Omega Towa

omega Towa does not give two damns about anything. Haru practically has to beg him to stay home whenever he has a heat, but it’s always a coin toss as to whether or not Towa actually listens for that day. Normally, I’d imagine he probably does… if only because he’s more focused on getting his needs taken care of, but sometimes he just feels like he needs some fresh air, and it wouldn’t be too odd to find him wandering around campus, especially if he wants to track you down. He’s in the middle of his heat, and he wants to spend it with you, regardless of if you’re an alpha, beta, or omega! Although… things might get a little rough, especially if you’re a beta… Towa has a crazy high sex drive even when he’s not in heat, so when he’s in heat? Forget about it. You’re not leaving his side for the next week. Scratch that, the next two weeks, because god knows you won’t be able to walk for at least a week after.

It might actually cause some problems for you (well, the both of you, but he certainly cares much less than you do) in tha Towa has absolutely zero problem with PDA and will pin you down wherever you are to have a taste of you. There’s been more than one occasion that you’ve been glad the tree he cares for is well out of the way, because he’s take you apart at the foot of that very tree more than one before, and the only reason it didn’t happen more was because you manage to convince him to take things back to a room. A closet, at the very least.

Omega Haku

omega Haku would be pretty open about his condition if he were to go into heat, and typically you would get a WickHive message saying he wouldn’t be able to meet up with you for a while until it was over. He didn’t like to impede your schedule much, especially considering how busy he knows you are as well as the fact that you already miss quite a bit of classes as it was due to missions and such. He wouldn’t say no if you were to come visit him in the dorms and offer yourself up to him though… Even just coming over to help bring him food, water, and fabric with your scent on it to help make things more comfortable and add to his nest was appreciated, but offering to physically help him through the week was something that would leave him feeling soft, over the moon, and more importantly, ready to have fun.

He would ask you if you were really sure about your decision, but once it was clear that you were certain and not going to back down from taking care of him, he wouldn’t challenge your decision and instead let you into his room in order to help him through his heat. Haku as an omega isn’t a docile, helpless little thing like people stereotypically imagine an omega to be, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t also above being spoiled. He wouldn’t give up all control if you wanted to take the lead between the two of you—even if he wasn’t doing anything, you can tell he’s ready to take back control of the situation at any moment if he so desired—but as keen as he normally would be to be the one exploring your body and making you feel loved, he’d be more than content to lay back and let you take care of him for once.

If he were to go into heat when around you on campus, he’d first try to get himself back to his rooms before things can get worse, but there have been a time or two where his symptoms escalated a little too quickly for him to properly avoid being in public like he’d prefer… When that happened, you found yourself pulled into an empty classroom or closet and pinned to the wall as he kissed you with fervor and worked his hand up your shirt. You’d be embarrassed about it of course, but Haku is good with his hands even when his brain is foggy from arousal; he’d be quick to distract you from thinking about anything other than his hands on your body and the press of his cock against your thigh as he murmurs an apology and promise that it’s just until he can get his symptoms to wane a little bit. He just has to make sure you’re quiet enough in the meantime <3

[belli5]

Africa — King Kenny

Pairing: king Kenny x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, cutie animals (or dangerous), nun. Based on this request. Also I changed it up a bit, because beta squad doesn’t really have any dangerous animals in videos, they’re just scared of everything.

Summary: in which, beta squad were 50 hours in Africa and you went along with them, going to safari and helping them learn about animals.

A/n: Sorry for my beta girlie who had to wait so long for this. I had written little bit of smut at the end, but then I felt it wasn’t needed in this story so I deleted it.

Masterlist

The beta squad were going to Africa for 3 days or 50 hours. They are gonna do some challenges or just things kids do there as in school or play football and they are gonna go to safari aswell, they suggested you to come with them so of course you agreed.

When we landed in Kenya, we were greeted by some great people and they also had pretty flower bouquet for each one of us.

A taller guy than you gave you the bouquet, “oh thank you so much.” You smiled at him, and he went to give someone else the other bouquet he had.

When we were finally leaving the airport with the people who greeted us here, you all got into a car sitting down between Kenny and Aj.

“Here,” Kenny from beside you said, “you can have these.” Giving you his bouquet of flowers. You thought it was so cute.

“Aww, thank you so much.” You thanked him and leaned into him.

“Yeah, guys can you stop being so corny infront of us and the camera?” Aj called you both out. You saw the camera towards you both and shook your head.

“Shut up, Aj.” You said.

First you all arrived at your first location, where you would just eat, the people also welcomed you very nicely, they had the Uk and Kenya’s flag.

It was so cute, they singed a song for us while we just vibed, honestly overall it was so nice dancing with them. Also they cheered for everything, more welcoming than the Uk.

“Kenny won his last fight.” Sharky said, and everyone started cheering, yelling ‘yeahhh’

“Guys, guys,” Niko interrupted “I’ve got two socks on.” Everyone started cheering again and yelling ‘yeah’ you laughed at it.

“You guys,” Aj said “Niko’s breath stinks.” Everyone started cheering again, even Niko.

Niko wanted to revenge, “Aj’s three foot tall.” Everyone cheered once again. And Aj just got inside laughing.

After eating the amazing food, we had to go to our second location, which was Ematsayi primary school, where again amazing kids we had to teach today, were waiting for us.

The beta squad teached them the “say good, good, good” song, we obviously all love.

“Aj as a teacher,” Chunkz began “is mental.”

“I’m the best teacher.” Aj stated. “And the best student.”

“You might aswell start.” Niko pointed at Aj, “This is your teacher ‘mr. Triangle’ everyone say hello mr. Triangle” Niko introduced Aj to the kids.

All the kids repeated Niko “Hello mr. Triangle” all the guys and you started laughing while Aj thanked them.

“What’s his name?” Niko asked, now he was doing it on purpose, but it still was funny.

“Mr. Triangle.” All the kids said.

It was now the last day in Africa, the third day and we were in Nairobi where the guys were going to a safari for the last challenge. The people greeted us with flowers again.

For the last challenge the guys had to do an animal bingo, basically each of them had to pick three animals they think will be in the safari and whoever saw the three animals first, wins.

First animal we saw was chimpanzee, which was picked by Sharky so he had two more to go. “Come on, tell us something about chimpanzees y/n.” Sharky asked you.

“I dunno, chimpanzees have the ability to learn human’s language, such as sign language.” You told them, not sure what to say, but they expected something from you, as you work with animals. “But chimpanzees are only found in Africa so I don’t know much.”

“That’s actually really interesting.”

“That’s why I picked chimpanzees.” Sharky says, probably referring to the fact that they’re only in Africa.

We saw other animals small animals no one picked, we saw a tortoise and he almost, just almost made it to grass, Niko even said it was just as slow as Chunkz on football pitch.

“Y/n, what’s the difference between tortoise and turtle?” Kenny asked, honestly there was not much of a difference.

“Hmm.. there’s not much, except turtles usually spend their time in water while tortoises spend their time on land.” You said, “Also tortoises have more rounded and domed shells where turtles have thinner, more water dynamic shells.”

“Great. So it looks like we’re gonna know more information about animals today,” Aj talked to the camera, “as we have Y/n and she works with animals, so she knows more than us.”

You smiled at Aj talking. Next we saw elephant signs, but unfortunately there was no elephants as the driver or the owner told us, so there was no point for Niko.

Aj saw a Hippo in water, which he was surprised to and happy, he even applauded and gave you few high fives.

You wanted to tell them something about hippos so you spoke, ��Guys did you know that Hippos thrive underwater? They can hold their breath for an average of five minutes.”

“And that’s just average?” Niko asked, to what you nodded.

“Mhm. That’s long enough to take walks along lakebed and riverbed floors.” You added.

“No wonder their nickname is ‘river horse’!” Chunkz joked. Also Aj was in the lead right now, so he only needs to see a tiger and he has won.

We next saw ostrich, which was on Sharkys list, now Kenny on the other hand was definitely not winning this challenge, because he has not seen a single animal he named, he named most animals you can’t see here.

The driver said that giraffes are coming up, so Chunkz of course got happy because giraffe is on his list, “ohh,” he yelled-sang, “he said giraffes, I see the giraffes.” Chunkz said looking at everyone, honestly it was cute how excited he was.

“I see giraffes with long necks.” Chunkz continued to sing.

“Look.” You pointed “it’s Niko’s siblings.”

“And that’s the fact for giraffes?” Niko laughed, and you nodded “yeah, horror.”

“Are we going to see a seal today?” Kenny asked the driver.

“If we go to South Africa.” The driver told him, Kenny laughing at his answer.

“Aye Kenny you’re not winning this.” You said wrapping your arm around his shoulder jokingly.

The journey continued, we saw more animals, they continued to ask you questions about some animals, but none of them were on the guy’s bingo cards, we drives past cheetah, but Chunkz didn’t saw it so there was no point for him.

It was already now getting dark, it was already 7pm and as we were getting ready to leave we saw a giraffe on road, it was actually so close, and it was even taller closer.

“I wanna touch it.” Kenny said.

“Kenny!” You called out, “it is not permitted touching the giraffe sadly.”

“Why not?” They asked.

“Just for safety reasons.” You smiled, not wanting to cause trouble for the giraffe or anyone else. The giraffe was really close so you could take a picture of it.

It was completely dark now, and y’all saw none of the animals, but mosquitoes. “Ai all we’ve got now is mosquitoes,” Niko said “just going in my eyes.”

“Ai who hit me wallahi..” Aj complained and it was most likely Chunkz who was hitting the mosquitoes away.

“Wasn’t me.” Chunkz quickly defended himself.

“It’s probably because of that damn bright light you have..” you complained, “if it would’ve been turned off, they wouldn’t attack us so much..” you rolled your eyes.

“Well we can’t film in dark’.” Kenny says , at your sudden attitude, probably because you were getting mad of the mosquitoes sucking your blood.

Niko talked to the camera like he always does, like he’s crazy, while everyone else just tried to not fall as the car we were in was going side to side from the awful road.

Kenny was squishing Aj as Aj was laying almost on Sharky and Chunkz, you got up and went next to Niko, because you’d rather talk to the camera than be squished.

Aj had won the challenge even tho as Sharky and Chunkz also had 2 animals, but Aj was the first one to reach two points.

It was finally the time to go back home, honestly you were excited to go home, but on the other hand you didn’t wanna leave Kenya.

But landing in Uk back, you and Kenny both went home straight because all you wanted to do was go home and get under the sheets with Kenny.

[sunflowersandforgetmenots]

So glad to see you popping up on my dash!! I’ve got a req from the soulmates post!

#15 No harm done - soulmates are not able to hurt each other physically

This with Sevika? What if there’s a big fight and it’s down to the two of you and maybe you’re already pretty badly injured so she comes stalking over to finish the job and take you out but then she CANT 😫😭💕 OR!! Silco has you hostage and wants her to interrogate you? She’d wind up for a smack or something and just be stopped mid air. Either way, I’d love to see her face journey upon realizing who you are to her bc I imagine she’d be the type that’s convinced she’ll never find/doesn’t have a soulmate and now she has to accept that she is capable and deserving of love >:}

Also in the specific scenarios I can’t remember the number and I’m on mobile but the constant danger one would be so cute with Soma! Or really any of the ladies tbh they’re always into some shit lol I just always want more Soma in my life 💘

I'll write the Soma one later if I get the inspo in my brain for it! But here it is! Sevika for 15! It's a little angsty but also my first time writing for her!!!!

Summary: Telling Silco no is a bad idea, especially when he sends Sevika, his right hand, after you. Though... maybe it's not so bad if she can't actually hurt you?

Pairing: Sevika x Reader

Genre: Soulmate, Not Smut

Potential TW: Violence, some stalking, mentions of killing read

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The fear that struck your heart was not a new one, especially down here in Zaun. Fear was rampant in this place, no one was free from it. The lowest feared as prey, rabbits to be tracked and shot down by hunters. The highest weren’t exempt from it either, though the fear they felt was one born of greed. Of coins and power slipping through their fingers. 

It wasn’t like you intended to get on Silco’s bad side. You weren’t someone of power to be feared by others, you weren’t even really a threat to him. But you told him no. 

No, you wouldn’t serve his men. No, you wouldn’t distribute shimmer through Zaun. No, you wouldn’t back down. You liked Vander. You liked that he cared for his people without trying to beat others down. So what that he worked with Piltover? If it kept people safe, if it kept the upper side’s nose out of your business, so what. He was a father, a guardian. Silco was a monster. 

And you had told his right hand that, right to her face. Her rather handsome face, once found in Vander’s men, now stinking up the door to your establishment. It twists up in anger, in rage.

“What?” She had said, a simple, low voiced threat that had part of you thrumming with a disgusting streak of desire. 

“I said, no, Sevika. I’m not a pusher of some fucked up drug. I’m a fucking florist struggling to get through life down here. I can’t risk that.”

“Silco doesn’t take no for an answer, (Y/N).” She said. “Just because you’re ‘not the type’ doesn’t make you exempt from his requests.”

“He’s not a king. He’s not my boss.” You had responded, slamming the door shut in her face. She stayed there for a few moments, and you had feared for a few long moments that she was going to take that mechanical arm and punch through the door, taking your throat with it. 

Instead, she quietly left, taking her men laughing with her. 

You had thought that that was that. Silco and his men left you alone for a time, and instead, your flowers flourished. It was frustrating. There was an improvement with the shimmer, a double edged sword that you were sure would come crashing down on Zaun any moment. 

Then, Sevika started appearing standing on the other side of the street of your shop. Staring, waiting. Never making a move, never moving closer. It scared you, enough to make you change your routine, but like clockwork, she would adjust within a day. A predator, waiting for her chance to clamp her teeth around the throat of her prey.

So you decided to run. Pack your things and run. You could beg on the streets of Piltover. Hell, maybe you could even leave. Crossing Silco was one thing, but Sevika being the one to take you out? She was going to make it hurt. She was going to make sure that you weren’t found ever again. And you can’t risk it. 

Which is how you found yourself in this situation, sitting in some abandoned closet in some abandoned home, clutching a knife close to your chest as you hear Sevika rip through your belongings. 

You weren’t going to make it out of this alive, that knowledge settling deep in your bones. But you can give it a fighting chance, maybe she might make it quick, knowing you weren’t going to be a coward and die weakly. That’s the one thing you can do in Zaun: die strong.

Even so, a part of you mourned. You never figured out who they were, your soulmate, the one you were destined to love, waiting these long years in the darkness of Piltover. Waited for so long, only to be snuffed out by a mere puppet of a monsterous man who ruled your home. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife as your killer approaches the closet. 

“Come out, (Y/N).” She says, voice low in that threatening way that made your stomach turn. “You know that you can’t fight me. Not with whatever little weapon you have. Silco just wants to talk.” 

“We both know that the talk is going to end up with me dead.” You say. You wish that you could respond with the confidence you had when you got yourself into this mess, all pride and strength. Instead, you just put your foot on the door, offering resistance for whenever she decided to rip it off the hinges. 

“Maybe if you stopped trying both of our patiences,” Sevika growls, punching the door for a threatening emphasis. “you wouldn’t be worried about that. You can either die now, or die if he gives the order.”

“I’m not gonna wait for that, and you know it.” 

She sighs, a deep, tired sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

And the door comes right off its hinges, though your booted foot did nothing to give you time. The wood slings across to the other side of the room, and you start slashing wildly, missing each time before she knocks the dinky knife out of your hand with one flick. A scream escapes your lips, hoping beyond hope someone would take pity on your in your last moments, even if that someone was Sevika. You’re lifted up by your shirt collar and dragged out of the closet, kicking and sobbing for someone to save you. 

Your feet dangle, and without thinking, you wrap your hands around her organic wrist for some kind of subconsious reassurance. The feeling of her skin against your fingers shocks you. She’s human, just like you. but she’s fixing to kill you. She’s killed before. She’s watched the life drain out of so many people and you were no exception. 

Your touch does nothing to her, seemingly. No flinch, no hesitation. Instead, she pulls back her mechanical fist and pulls it back. You close your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks as you brace for the end. 

But the end doesn’t come. And it doesn’t come for a few minutes actually. So you crack open an eye, looking at her with relief. She must have changed her mind. The look on Sevika’s face however, was one of horror. Her fist was still raised, and you see the muscle of her shoulder straining. Then, you’re gently lowered to the ground, her hand still loosely curled into the fabric of your shirt.

“Ch… Change of mind?” You ask, still terrified out of your wits end. 

“I can’t.” 

“Can’t what? Kill me?”

“Hurt you.” She says. The words seem to slip out of her mouth, like she wanted to stop them before they were spoken. “I can’t hurt you, (Y/N).” 

It takes a moment. At first, you think she’s simply taking pity on you, or maybe she respects you too much after your attempts to prevent your own death. Then it sinks in. Sevika tried to hurt you, but physically, she couldn’t. Which meant…

“I’m your soulmate. We’re… We’re soulmates.” 

Speaking it out loud only seems to upset her further. She shifts, turning her face away and letting her right hand drop from your person. Though she doesn’t move, she doesn’t speak. She just looks… uncomfortable. 

As you stand there, basking in the strange feeling that your soulmate just tried to kill you, that your soulmate was Sevika, you come to realize something about Sevika. You thought her a killer, someone ready to switch sides at any given moment but… now, as she stands there awkward as a teenager, you remember that she might have had expectations about this too. Hopes about soulmates, dreams about them. Was she disappointed? Was she ashamed? 

“What are you going to do?” Is all you’re able to ask, all you can manage to get out. 

She regards you out of the corner of her eye before she runs a hand over her face. “... Let you go. But you need to get out of Zaun. Never come back here.” She says. 

“What? But you’re my… you want me to leave after we just found out???” 

“Obviously!” She snaps. “Silco wants you dead, I can’t afford to fail, but…” She moves as though she’s going to pace, but then stops, like she can’t bring herself to move from you. There’s a pause before she rests a hand on your shoulder. “I never thought I would have one… would have you. You’re a weakness, that insecurity was a weakness. That desire was. It still is. So you’re going to leave Zaun, hell, maybe the whole city. I can’t have you haunting my steps.”

“So I’m a bother to you??” You ask, incredulous at the fact that she’s trying to get you to leave. Angry at the fact that you finally have what you’ve always wanted and now she’s pushing you away despite the fact that maybe now she can protect you.

“You’re a weakness. And a pain in my ass.” Sevika says. “I’m not… I’m not doing this. Just leave.” 

And before you can say anything, she pulls you into a kiss, hard, fast, and passionate. Better than any you’ve had before. And you mourn this bittersweet moment, because you know deep down that she’s right. 

Her loyalty is to Zaun, and if anything comes before that…

She’d have helped kill Vander for nothing, because she would do the same things he did to make sure you were safe.

[juniperhillpatient]

I wrote this fic for @hello-nichya-here because of our Wizards of Waverly Place re-watch. It's set directly after the episode "Alex in the Middle." Kelbo catches on that there's more to Alex's plans then a simple prank & does his best to help his niece & nephew along (in his own chaotic way). Enjoy!

“So, how’d the prank go with your brother?”

“Huh?” Alex asked, distracted. “What prank?”

In Alex’s defense, it was hard to focus on the conversation when there was horde of zombies chasing them. Uncle Kelbo had taken her to Fear Land, which was a wizard world haunted attraction with real ghosts, goblins, ghouls and zombies. They had just escaped the room with the shrieking banshee, who was very annoying and whiney and also loud. Now they were running across a field while an army of the undead moaned and followed them with outstretched arms, hungry for their flesh.

Alex slowed down and tilted her head as she realized something. “Hey, they’re all just walking. We don’t have to run.”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun if we run,” Kelbo said, doubling over and panting.

Alex groaned, clutching a stitch in her side. “You and I have very different ideas of fun, apparently.”

They hurried past the exit gate where an attendance with short dark hair and a rather vacant expression was waiting. She spoke in a tired, bored monotone voice. “Thank you for coming to Fear Land. Please remember that you signed a waver and Fear Land cannot be held legally responsible for any bodily or mental harm that you might have befallen while in the attraction.”

“I don’t remember signing a waiver,” Alex said, as she followed Kelbo over to a food stand. There were a lot of stands selling fried food and soda and a few rides including a Ferris wheel that levitated in the air with no support beams. Wizards as well as some vampires, werewolves, centaurs, elves and other wizard world folks were wandering around, chatting.

“Yeah,” Kelbo said. “That’s ‘cause I signed for you. Technically, you have to be eighteen to get into Fear Land, and they make you sign the contract in your blood on a charmed piece of paper that can tell your age by your blood. So, I may have helped you fib a little. Don’t tell your parents.”

Alex grinned. “You are so cool.”

A few minutes later, they were sitting at a picnic table, chowing down on fried unicorn horns. Alex was enjoying the evening. She could acknowledge that Uncle Kelbo was not the greatest magic teacher. She needed her dad to help slow her down and make her think, as much as she hated to admit it. Also, obviously, knowing that Dad won the wizard competition changed everything. He was the superior wizard after all, and thus exactly who she needed as a teacher. She still loved spending time with Uncle Kelbo in the wizard world. He treated her like an adult, not a kid, and let her be herself.

“So, what’s next?” Kelbo asked.

“Hm?” Alex said, swallowing a bite of her fried unicorn horn. “I didn’t know we were doing anything else tonight. Ooh, while we’re faking my age, will you take me to that cool wizard dance club, Zero Gravity? I heard everything floats in there!”

“No,” Kelbo said. Then he considered. “Well, maybe. Dancing with no gravity does sound pretty awesome.” Then his expression hardened. “No! Stop trying to distract me with awesome sounding clubs. Listen, I meant what’s next with the prank on your brother. You sent him all those love notes. Now what? Are you going to stink bomb his locker and put a note saying it’s from the secret admirer? Convince him it’s from some really hot girl he likes and then humiliate him by doing a spell to make him talk in a really deep voice like a cave man? Ooh! Or you could give him a really high voice like a little girl!”

Alex laughed. “Oh, that? Well, Justin kinda found out the notes were from me. You should’ve seen his face when he confronted me about it. He got so red, and his nose did that cute thing where it scrunches up and his eyes got all big.” She giggled, remembering, and spoke in an imitation of Justin. “Alex, I know it was you putting those notes in my locker! It wasn’t funny. I hid in a trash can!”

“Riiight,” Kelbo said. For some reason, he looked skeptical. “So, you just, put flirty notes in your brother’s locker everyday for a week and then it never really led to anything, and he just got kinda mad and now it’s forgotten?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Alex said with a smile and a shrug. “So, anyway, about Zero Gravity, I hear-”

“I mean, I always noticed you guys were close,” Kelbo interrupted.

Alex snorted. “Ew? Close? Me and Justin. Please. He’s close with his science teacher.”

“Alex,” Kelbo said with an exasperated sigh. “Who do you talk to basically every night before you go to bed?”

“Well, obviously Justin, but-”

“Who can make you laugh even if you’re having a terrible day.”

“Sometimes Max, but usually not intentionally,” Alex said. Kelbo gave her a pointed look, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, Justin can usually cheer me up if I’m upset, but-”

“And who do you go to anytime you’re in real trouble, the kind you don’t know how to get out of?”

“I mean, Justin, but-”

“Not even your parents!” Kelbo said. “Kid, you’re in denial.”

“In denial of what?” Alex asked. “Fine, I’ll admit it, Justin is a pretty great big brother. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look, kid, I got you another present,” Kelbo said. He waved his wand, and a wrapped box appeared on the picnic table.

“Ooh, for me?” Alex asked. She clapped her hands. “Yay!” She hurried to open the box, and then frowned. Inside was a plastic mood ring. It was just like many she had purchased for cheap at the mall before. They tended to turn her fingers green. Alex tried to hide her disappointment. Unfortunately, she had never been very good at masking her feelings. “Oh, wow,” she said. “A mood ring…. Neat.”

Kelbo chuckled. “This is a special mood ring, okay? Give it to Justin. It’s a great uh,” he cleared his throat dramatically. The reason behind the fanfare was a mystery to Alex. “Prank.” He cleared his throat again. Then he winked.

Alex narrowed her eyes. “Why’d you say it like that? And why’d you wink?”

“I’m not winking,” Kelbo said, winking again.

“Okay then…” Alex said, giving him a discerning look. He was grinning, and not giving much away with his expression. After a moment, she got bored of trying to figure him out and gave up. “Well, whatever. I always like pranking Justin, so I’m in.”

“It definitely does not involve the Banana Song by Harry Belafonte,” Kelbo said.

Alex laughed. “Okayyy. Sure, Uncle Kelbo. Whatever you say.”

* * “I’m glad you had fun with Uncle Kelbo,” Justin said. He glared. “Be nice if he took me to some of these places.”

“Yeah, or me!” Max said.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Max, the last time Uncle Kelbo took you to a wizard world amusement park you had nightmares for a week. And not even because of anything scary.”

“I didn’t like the looks of that fairy princess, okay?” Max said. “Too pink.” He shuddered. “And her breath smelled like perfume. It was creepy.”

“And Justin, are you seriously telling me you would be willing to lie about your age on a blood contract?” Alex continued. “Uncle Kelbo took me because he knew I could handle it.”

“You lied about your age on a blood contract?” Justin asked, his eyes bugging.

“See?” Alex said. “This is why you don’t get invited to these things.”

“Kids, it’s getting time to get ready for bed,” Theresa said, walking out from behind the counter in the kitchen where she had been cleaning some dishes. “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t overhear anything about any blood contracts because honestly, I’m tired and I don’t have the patience for any weird wizard drama right now.”

Alex made a face. She had kind of forgotten Mom was back there, honestly. “Probably for the best.”

“Alright, the restaurant is all shut down,” Jerry said, entering the apartment. “What are you kids still doing up? Alex, I take it everything went well with your uncle?”

“Yep,” Alex said brightly. She could sense Justin itching to blurt out about the blood contract, and hurried to say something that would distract him. “Uncle Kelbo was talking about taking Justin with us to Fear Land next.”

“You went to Fear Land?” Jerry asked. “I remember he and I going there when we were teenagers. Back then it was eighteen and up. Guess it’s changed. We had to find some older wizards to help us fake sign these waivers in blood because we weren’t old enough.” He chuckled. “Man, those were some fun times. We used to get into so many crazy situations. There was this one time with a succubus that-” he stopped, seeing Theresa’s face, and cleared his throat. “That was very bad.” Then he frowned. “Wait a minute. Alex, please tell me that my brother did not sneak you into a haunted attraction illegally by faking a blood contract?”

“Okay,” Alex said. “Uncle Kelbo definitely did not do any of that stuff you just said.”

Jerry sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We are going to have a serious conversation about what you get up to with your uncle. For now, get ready for bed.”

A while later, Alex couldn’t sleep. She was lying in bed in her pajamas, tossing and turning. She wasn’t too freaked out by the Fear Land attractions. Sure, the guy carrying his own severed head was a little icky. But it was the conversation with Kelbo that was bugging her. She hadn’t found an opportunity to give Justin the ring yet, and she wasn’t totally sure she even wanted to. Kelbo was just acting so weird about the whole thing, like there was a joke Alex wasn’t in on. She liked to be the one scheming and pulling pranks, not having pranks pulled on her.

After a while, Alex snuck downstairs to get a glass of water. Also, to see if Justin was still up. She had heard him in he hallway walking around not too long ago, and she never heard him come back upstairs. She had the mood ring from Kelbo in her pocket just in case she decided to give it to him after all.

Alex hesitated on the stairs. Justin was sitting on the sofa under a throw blanket, watching a DVR recording of the channel five news. Alex recognized the news anchor’s perky expression and thick brunette hair, and her stupid fake breasts right away. It was the one Justin was obsessed with. He had cutouts of her in his room. Alex had once stolen one to use for her fake ID when she tried to sneak into Night of the Halloween Sorority Party Disaster Two.

Justin made a soft sound that made something deep in Alex’s core shift. His hand was moving under the blanket. Oh, gross. Alex figured out a beat too late what was happening. She was frozen though, staring. She knew she should hurry back upstairs, but then she would get caught. She was just standing there, halfway down the stairs, unable to tear her eyes away from the back of Justin’s head. The annoying news anchor was going on about the weather. Justin serious got off to THAT? Alex was affronted with the ridiculousness of that. She could be way hotter than some girl talking about the weather without even trying. Not that she wanted Justin to get off to her instead. It was just the principal of the thing.

Alex stayed there watching for a long time. She kept wanting to bolt upstairs, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She told herself it was because the stairs would creak, and Justin would hear her. After a while, Justin sighed and slumped further into the pillows. Alex decided that now it would be safe to get her glass of water. She just had to pretend she was only just now coming down the stairs. She took several loud steps.

Justin sat bolt upright and spun around. “ALEX! What are you doing?”

“Getting a glass of water,” Alex said, walking to the kitchen. “What are you doing?” She looked at the TV, pretending to just now notice it as she got a glass of water. “Jerking off to the news anchor?” “What?” Justin said. His face was bright red. “No.”

Alex laughed. She couldn’t help herself. The way Justin was holding the throw blanket up to his chin like some kind of scandalized maiden was just too good. “Calm down, I’m just teasing,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. Maybe that Fear Land place got to me more than I’d like to admit.”

“Well, I was getting ready to go up, but I could watch an episode of some dumb sit com with you, if you want,” Justin said.

“Sure,” Alex said, plopping down on the sofa beside him. She yawned and leaned back. “Give me some of that blanket.”

“Get your own.”

“No, the closet where Mom keeps the throw blankets is all the way upstairs,” Alex whined. “C’mon, share.”

“You’re so annoying,” Justin said, but he allowed her to pull some of the blanket over herself as she got comfy.

A few minutes later, Justin’s arm was on the back of the sofa, behind Alex’s head. They both had their feet up, sharing the coffee table as a footrest, and the throw blanket was pulled over them both. Some show about a comically dysfunctional family played over a laugh track was on TV. Alex found herself drifting off. Something about being in Justin’s presence and the sound of the TV helped her relax.

Alex had just faded away into comfy oblivion when Justin shifted and woke her up. She had drifted to sleep with her head resting against his shoulder. She yawned, to sleepy to sit up. “Mm, guess I should go up to bed.”

When Justin spoke, his voice was soft, and tired, but also there was something different about it than earlier. Something almost hesitant, or maybe hopeful. “This is ok.”

Alex sat up, laughing. “You want to explain to Mom and Dad why we fell asleep cuddling on the sofa?”

Justin frowned. “What? It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. We both just couldn’t sleep. I don’t think they’d be too mad.”

Obviously, he was right. But something about the idea of waking up here made Alex nervous. She imagined she would see that look in her eyes that Mom sometimes got, like she was a little worried for some reason, or the rare quietness from Dad that sometimes happened, like when Alex jokingly tried to sit in Justin’s lap last family movie night and Dad said he wanted to sit by Alex and shut down any further jokes like that for the evening.

“Hey, I have a present for you,” Alex said. She dug in her pocket and got out the ring. “It’s from Uncle Kelbo. He wanted me to give it to you. I almost forgot.”

By now, the sit com was over and channel five was back on. Justin must’ve changed it while Alex was asleep. The news anchor he liked so much was talking about possible rain. Justin yawned and stretched. Alex definitely did not find the way his face scrunched up after a sleepy yawn adorable. That was just something dumb she wrote in one of those stupid prank letters to make fun of him.

“A present from Kelbo?” Justin asked. “Nice, those are always great.”

“Here, hold out your hand,” Alex said. Justin did so, and she slid the ring over his pointer finger.

Immediately, Justin’s mouth opened, and a sound emitted from it that was not at all like his voice. It was a very familiar sound though. Alex stared in utter amusement. Where was that music coming from? This was TOO good.

‘Day-o, day-o Daylight come, and we want go home Day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day-o Daylight come, and we want go home Work all night on a drink of rum Daylight come, and we want go home…’

Justin got up and began to do a dance to go along with the music. This was exactly like that famous scene in the movie Beetlejuice, except that Justin was alone in his dancing. Alex was left sitting on the sofa, losing it laughing. This was the best prank Kelbo had ever come up with and that was including the time he helped Alex and Max make Justin’s action figures all come to life and make fun of him. “Alex, I don’t know what’s happening!” Justin yelled. He was still dancing. Then, he was back to singing, except not in his own voice, but with the vocals and backup music of Harry Belafonte.

‘Stack banana 'til the morning come (Daylight come and we want go home) Come Mister tally man, tally me banana (Daylight come and we want go home) Come Mister tally man, tally me banana (Daylight come and we want go home) Lift six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch (Daylight come and we want go home) Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch Daylight come, and we want go home!’

There was never any chance of the family sleeping through all this racket. Within minutes, Jerry and Theresa were on the stairs, both rubbing their eyes and looking exhausted. Max was right behind them. He appeared to be enamored.

“Aw, sick,” Max said. “Justin, you never told me you could sing and dance like that. You gotta teach me for the talent show!”

Alex was wheezing with laughter. Justin was staring at her with desperate horror in his eyes, and she decided to at last take pity on him. “Oh my god. “Okay, okay,” she said, still chuckling. “Take the ring off.”

Justin ripped the ring off his finger, and immediately had free reign of his body. He did a whole-body shudder. Alex was doubled over, tears streaming down her face from laughing. She couldn’t breathe. This was just too good. Justin looked furious and embarrassed and that meant she had enjoyed a successful evening.

“Young lady, we are going to have a serious talk about pranking your brother in the morning,” Jerry said, glaring. “It’s the middle of the night. You have school tomorrow! You know what? You are grounded. No going to the mall with Harper tomorrow.”

“But Daddy, I didn’t know what the ring would do,” Alex whined. “Uncle Kelbo gave it to me and told me to give it to Justin.”

“Okay, fine,” Jerry snapped. “No hanging out with my brother until I have a serious talk with him.”

“But, Dad-” Alex started.

“NO BUTS,” Jerry said.

Theresa frowned. “Jerry, it was just an innocent kid’s prank. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

“He took her to an eighteen plus amusement park,” Jerry said. “Now he’s helping her prank her brother like she needs any help in that department? He’s encouraging her to misuse magic, and I’m done with it.”

Alex was furious. She slammed the door to her bedroom and sat on her bed fuming for several minutes. This was so unfair. Maybe her dad won the wizard competition but that didn’t mean he understood magic so much better than Kelbo. Jerry and Justin both were always going on and on about the rules and following them to a T. At least Kelbo knew how to have fun.

A thought occurred to Alex, not for the first time, and she did her best to push it away. If she won the competition, she’d be just like Kelbo. Always using magic for her own gain whenever she wanted. But Justin was a lot more like their dad, who actually won. What if she didn’t always get to keep her powers?

This thought was always there, in the back of Alex’s mind, tainting her every interaction with Justin with the tension and jealousy of that insecurity. It didn’t so much get to her with Max, because he was so behind in the competition. On the outside, Alex never let these concerns show. She would rather die than let Justin know she was worried he would win and leave her in the dust. But it did get to her sometimes.

Anyway, right now Alex’s concern was about being cut off from her uncle. She grabbed her wand and dialed. “Beep, boop, beep, boop, beep.”

A minute later, Kelbo picked up. “Hey, Alex. I just got off the phone with your dad. It looks like you and I aren’t going to be able to hang out for a while. But listen, your dad will come around. We just need to give him some space and – oh, who am I kidding? I’ll sneak you out whenever you want.”

Alex laughed in relief. “Good to know. I was worried I would be totally cut off from you.”

“Never, kid,” Uncle Kelbo said.

“Hey, I did the prank on Justin,” Alex said. “Why did you act all mysterious anyway? All it did was make him sing that Banana Boat and dance. It was hilarious.”

“Listen, you gotta get Justin to wear that ring to school tomorrow,” Kelbo said. “I’m trying to prove a point here, and I need you to figure out what triggers the ring if we’re ever going to get there.”

“Huh?” Alex said. “Why are you acting all mysterious again?”

“Just get him to wear the ring to school.”

“Well, he’s never gonna do that,” Alex said. “He probably just threw it away.”

“No, no, no, that thing was so expensive,” Kelbo groaned. “I was saving it for a really good opportunity. Look, who will Justin listen to no matter what?”

Alex felt a sneaky idea form in her mind, and she grinned. “You know what? You just gave me a great idea.”

“It’s what I do best,” Kelbo said. “Now, call me tomorrow with an update.”

* *

“I’m sorry you can’t go, Alex, but it’s your own fault,” Harper said. “If you would just stop pulling pranks on Justin, maybe you wouldn’t be grounded so often.”

“Ugh, you are not being a very supportive best friend right now, Harper,” Alex grumbled. She was standing behind the counter at the substation, and Harper was sitting on a stool facing her.

“Look, I’ll try to get you that cute sweater you liked so much,” Harper said. “How’s that?”

Alex perked up and smiled. “Like maybe you’re a much better friend than I thought.”

The bell dinged as the door to the substation opened. Justin entered, whistling as he walked. Alex hadn’t seen him much at school. They passed each other in the hall, but that was it. So, she had no idea if her plan had worked.

This morning, there was a very special news report from the channel five anchor about how mood rings were SUPER popular right now and all the cute guys were wearing them. It only broadcast to one household in New York, but Justin didn’t have to know that. Thanks to the ‘manipulate screens’ spell from last week’s wizard lesson, Alex was able to make it look like the news lady was saying whatever she wanted her to say. This was a good trick, and Alex was going to have to remember it for future use.

“Oh, there’s Justin,” Harper said. She looked down at her dress, which was covered in plastic assortments of fruits. “How do I look?”

“Um….” Alex said, unsure how to respond to that.

“Hey Alex, hey, Harper,” Justin said as he approached.

Harper immediately screamed and dove under a nearby table. Since this was a normal reaction for her, Justin just shrugged, and walked behind the counter, getting himself a soda. He was still whistling a jaunty tune.

“Hey, Justin,” Alex said. “How was school?”

“Good,” Justin said. “I passed my algebra exam with flying colors, and-” he stopped and gave Alex a suspicious look. “You don’t care how my day at school was, do you?”

Alex scoffed. “What? I so care. I always ask you how your day was.”

“Especially when you have some scheme cooking,” Justin said, narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Alex said. “Um, out of curiosity, did you wear that mood ring?”

“Yeah, I did,” Justin said. “The news lady on channel five said – hey!” He glared. “You tricked me!”

“Well, it obviously didn’t do any good,” Alex said with a disappointed sigh. “I guess nothing happened.”

“No, it didn’t,” Justin said. “And you are so annoying for trying to prank me again! You know, Alex, sometimes it’s like your life revolves around tormenting me.”

Alex grinned. “And isn’t that just such a compliment?”

Justin glared. “You are the worst. I swear- DAY-OU!”

The music was back. Alex burst into laughter. Luckily for her, no one else except Harper was in the substation. Harper got out from under the table, looking very confused. Alex supposed that she should be trying to figure out a way to explain this to Harper. Right now, though, she was unable to do anything but crack up. With any luck, Justin would get nervous and do the explaining for her. The bell dinged and the substation door opened. A man entered. His eyes went wide, and he stared at Justin, who was now dancing to the music.

‘Daylight come and we want go home Day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day-o Daylight come, and we want go home!’

The potential customer backed away outside and let the door shut again. Alex saw him take off running down the street. Harper was pointing at Justin with a shaky hand. Her jaw was hanging open and she looked terrified. Alex was aware that she was possibly in trouble. However, all she could do was laugh because the sight of Justin singing and dancing was just too good.

Justin ripped the ring off his finger. “ALEX I’m going to KILL-” Justin stopped mid-sentence. He looked at Harper and forced himself to be composed. Oh, good. He was going to weasel out of this so Alex didn’t have to. God, Alex loved him. “I am going to KILL at the talent show,” Justin said. He forced a huge grin. “Isn’t that such a cool talent that I’ve developed all by myself with no magic, Harper?”

“Uh,” Harper said. “Yep.” She was back to her usual awkward, blushing self around Justin, looking shy and giggly. “Wow. You really learned how to make music come out of your mouth for the talent competition? You’re so talented.”

“Yep,” Justin said. “That’s right. Okay, now, I have to practice some more. So, goodbye.”

“But, the substation just opened for dinner. It’s only four o’clock.”

“Wow! How the time flies!” Justin said, ushering Harper out the door. “Great talking to you. See ya tomorrow.”

Alex was back to giggling. Justin turned around and glared at her, and she tried to look serious. “Justin, I’m really sorry.” She couldn’t maintain her composure and started laughing again. “But that was too good. Maybe you really should audition for the talent competition!”

A while later, Alex was lying on the sofa flipping through a teen magazine. She had just done a quiz on whether she was compatible with her crush for fun. She didn’t have a crush right now, because Riley was going out with Gigi, and she was grossed out by that. So, she answered all the questions inserting Justin as the hypothetical other person in each scenario. The answer she got was that she and her crush were sure to have a rocky and possibly doomed but very fun and exciting romance and that it was definitely worth giving it a shot even if there would be heartache and speedbumps along the way. Huh. Interesting. Alex supposed that did describe her and Justin’s dynamic pretty well. Minus the romance, obviously.

Alex jumped in alarm when she was joined by someone else in the room without warning. Uncle Kelbo had just flashed into the room with magic. He was coughing and waving smoke away as he got reacclimated from teleporting through space and town.

Alex sat up and tossed her magazine to the side. “Uncle Kelbo, what are you doing here?”

“I just got done talking to your dad,” Kelbo said. “Your mom calmed him down and we’re allowed to hang out again as long as I stop helping you prank your brother.”

“Great,” Alex said, beaming. She had known her dad would come around eventually, but it was relief that it happened so fast. Then she hesitated. “Wait, you’re not really going to stop helping me prank Justin, right?”

“Of course not,” Kelbo said, waving a dismissive hand. “Now, listen. I want to know everything about what happened today.”

Alex grinned. “Justin serenaded me and Harper with the Banana Boat song after school. It was great.”

“Yeah,” Kelbo said. “Now I think it’s time you knew what the ring really does. It casts a spell on the wearer so that whoever has it on sings the Banana Boat song whenever they experience strong romantic feelings.”

Alex stared at Kelbo. “Wait….”

“Yeah, take that in,” Kelbo said. “It’s a lot, I know. But now that I know it’s reciprocated, I can help you-”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Alex interrupted.

“Oh, okay, good,” Kelbo said, blinking in surprise. “I thought this was going to take way more convincing.”

“Wait, only the first time makes sense,” Alex said. “Justin was watching that channel five news anchor lady he like so much on TV.”

“Not her,” Kelbo groaned, smacking his forehead. “Alex, he was obviously experiencing feelings for-”

“HARPER?” Alex interrupted, aghast. She wasn’t sure why the idea upset her so much. After all, Harper had been into Justin forever. Shouldn’t Alex be happy for her as her best friend? “I can’t believe Justin has a crush on Harper,” she said. “Well, I guess now it’s up to me to get them together.”

* *

“Are you sure I can trust you about this?” Justin asked.

“For the last time, I’m telling you the truth,” Alex said. “I even let you do a truth spell on me to prove it.”

“That’s true,” Justin said. “But it’s just so strange. I never knew I had feelings for Harper.”

“Well, maybe you were burying them deep down,” Alex said.

“I guess,” Justin said, though he still looked uncertain. “And you really think the yogurt shop is a good place for us to go on a date? I’m leaving if she wears her yogurt themed outfit. Last time she followed me around in that thing for a day, I couldn’t get the smell of sour yogurt out of my nostrils for a week.”

Alex made a face. “Fair point. I’ll call her and make sure she doesn’t wear that.”

They were in the sub-car, after school. Alex was helping Justin get ready for the big date with Harper. No one else was in the sub-car. There were a few customers at tables in the substation. Luckily, Alex had put the serving wench charm on Max, so he was doing a great job. She would’ve felt a little bad, but he was making a killing in tips, so she figured he’d be alright.

“Alright,” Alex said, sitting at the table. “So, like we agreed, let’s practice.”

“I don’t know about this, Alex,” Justin said. “I mean, practicing for a date with Harper? She’s probably going to throw out some random fun facts about things she discovered while secretly watching me sleep or something.”

“Stop,” Alex said, getting serious. “Justin, I know she’s kind of weird, but she’s my best friend and if you hurt her I’ll have to hurt you. Look, I want you and Harper both to be happy. So please, just take this seriously.”

“Alright, alright,” Justin said. He sat down at the table and folded his hands in front of him. “Hi, Harper. Welcome to our date.”

Alex snorted. “Welcome to our date? What is this, a talk show? Just act natural. Why aren’t you wearing the ring?”

“Act natural?” Jutin repeated. “I don’t know how to act natural around Harper. I’m used to her screaming and running away when she sees me. Anyway, I’m pretty sure singing the Banana Boat song on our date isn’t considered natural.”

“Okay, true,” Alex said, laughing. “But it would be pretty funny.”

“Now I’m the one who needs to take this seriously?” Justin asked, snorting.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said. She cleared her throat and spoke in an imitation of Harper. “Hi, Justin.” She giggled and twirled her hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” Justin said. “I mean, uh, why don’t I come sit by you?”

A moment later, Justin was on the bench beside Alex in the sub-car. He put an arm around her, and sat very close, with his face near hers. “You look really pretty.”

Alex felt butterflies in her belly dance, and her cheeks were suddenly very warm. “Okay,” she said with a soft laugh. “Since when are you Mr. Charisma?”

“I can be romantic when I want to be,” Justin said. “You just never see that side of me.”

“I wonder why not,” Alex said, shooting him a mischievous smirk.

“I think it’s obvious why not,” Justin said, laughing.

Suddenly, they were joined by Kelbo and a lot of smoke. He waved his hand in front of his face, coughing up a storm. Alex and Justin both did the same.

“Uncle Kelbo, what are you doing here?” Justin asked.

“Okay, fine,” Kelbo said. “I did a spell so I could spy on you two after I found out Alex was trying to set you up with Harper.”

“What?” Alex said. “Why?”

“Because!” Kelbo said. “You’re both clearly never going to figure this out without my help. Look, Justin, just put on the ring right now.”

Justin frowned and dug in his jeans pocket. He put on the ring. Alex felt her jaw drop. No way. The gears in her brain whirred as she tried to process what exactly was happening and what it meant. It’s not like she hadn’t had inklings before. But she could never articulate it. Even now, she was afraid to put it into words in her own brain, what it meant that the ring was activated right now.

‘Day-o, day-o Daylight come, and we want go home Day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day, is a day-o Daylight come, and we want go home Work all night on a drink of rum Daylight come, and we want go home…’

Justin ripped the ring off his finger and threw it on the ground. His expression was intense, and horrified. Alex found herself tense. Every muscle in her body was like a live wire. She was afraid to breathe. Justin was still seated on the bench, very close to her.

“I can’t believe it,” Justin said.

“I know,” Alex said, surprised at how steady her voice came out. She had always been good at acting like she was okay even when she wasn’t. She met Justin’s eyes, her heart pounding. “I can’t either.”

“I have feelings for Uncle Kelbo?” Justin said.

Alex and Uncle Kelbo both groaned. Alex smacked Justin on the shoulder. “You do not have feelings for Uncle Kelbo, you big dummy!”

Justin laughed, looking a bit breathless and very relieved. “Okay, your reaction right now proves that you’re not exactly upset about – um – what this means.”

“And, with that, I’m gonna leave you two with these,” Kelbo said. He set two tickets on the table. “These will get you into Zero Gravity, the wizard world club. I heard there’s a romantic ballad tonight and a floating dance for all the couples out there. Anyway, I’m gonna go. And if either of you ever tell your parents I was involved with helping you figure this out, I’ll turn you both into worms.”

With that, Kelbo was gone in a puff of smoke. Alex was alone with Justin in the sub-car. She was surprised to hear Justin mutter a spell as he coughed away the smoke. He was usually so careful with magic and refused to do anything without Dad’s permission. Suddenly though, every window in the sub-car was blocked by black curtains.

“You just did a spell,” Alex said, staring at Justin with wide eyes. “A spell outside the lair. Without supervision.”

“I was actually, uh, thinking maybe we could use a minute without supervision,” Justin said. He looked very nervous. “Are you – are we okay? Seriously.”

“You know, Justin, I’ve never been very good with talking about these things,” Alex said. “So, let me answer that with action.”

Then she was kissing him. Alex had thought about this, in her deepest, darkest, most private fantasies. She had pictured what it would be like, but never admitted to herself what she was doing. She always waved it off as a random, errant dirty thought that meant nothing. Now Justin’s lips were pressed against hers, and his hands were tangled in her hair, and it was better than she could’ve ever imagined. This was worth every conflict and moment of heartache and possible disaster that was surely awaiting them if they pursued it. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind about that.

When they parted for air, Justin’s hand was on her cheek. He looked breathless and anxious and excited. “Okay, good answer.”

“We’re gonna have to thank Uncle Kelbo later for helping me prank you,” Alex said, grinning. “This turned out to be a really good prank.”

[danceswithsporks]

Awake- Part 5

Crosshair x F!Innkeeper reader

*Not Canon to Season 3*

Parts 1 2 3 4

Chapter Summary: You and Crosshair get closer.

Authors Notes: ooooh this chapter came to me quickly!! I think I’m finally starting to get into the groove with writing for Crosshair!!

I’ll be posting the outfit inspos for her sundress and nightgown within the next few days so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in that!

Sleep, it was so nice to finally sleep. Crosshair couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly. Dreams still didn’t come to him, but neither did the nightmares. It didn’t even feel like a long sleep for him. It was one of the sleeps where one blinks and suddenly it’s hours later and they’re awake. Fully rested and ready to tackle the day. Except it wasn’t daytime when he finally woke up, it was nighttime. Had he truly slept long enough for it to be nighttime once more? 

“So he finally wakes up.” Your voice drifted across the room as you stepped in from your private living room. “How’d you sleep?” You clicked on your light in a soft setting before stepping around the bed, you sat on the edge and watched him. 

“You been watchin' me?” Crosshair sat up with a huff, his body feeling almost well-rested. 

You laughed softly while shaking your head. “Nah, just came in to see if you were still alive. Wanted to make sure I didn’t need to buy a new bed.” You leaned down and popped off your shoes. 

Crosshair watched you curiously as you removed your shoes. “Worried I’d stink up your bed?” 

“No, I was worried about that earlier before you showered. Now I’m just worried you’ll be too comfortable to go back to your room.” You picked up your shoes and carried them over to your closet. Moving the door to the side you revealed a shelf full of shoes. The ones in your hand slid perfectly into their designated spot before you turned and walked back to the edge of the bed. “Come on, dinners ready.” 

“It’s a nice bed, but too girly for me.” Crosshair stood from the bed and stretched his arms above his head. 

“First time I’ve heard anyone complain.” Once more you were greeted with the sight of his toned chest. Even in the soft lighting of your room, he looked nice. Shrugging, you walked over to the door and curled your finger at him in a beckoning motion. You smirked at him playfully before disappearing through the door. 

Now what did that mean? Crosshair didn’t hesitate to follow you out of the room. He expected that the two of you would eat dinner out in the main area of the inn but instead, you stopped at the table in your small kitchen. Two plates of some kind of fish-based dish sat on the table with two glasses of white wine. “Ya do this for all your guests? Or just the unstable ones?” 

At least he was cracking jokes now. “Just the cute unstable ones.” You took a seat at the table and looked at the seat across from you, waiting for him to join you. “It’s just a baked whitefish. It has lemon, butter, and some seasonings with crushed fried onions on top. Nothing too fancy. Come on, join me.” Patting the table playfully, you smiled at him. 

There it was again, that damn smile of yourself that did something to him. Which made zero sense to him seeing as he’d seen it countless times in his dreams. Now it was suddenly making his heart feel fluttery. What the hell was that about?  Crosshair pulled out his seat and sat down carefully. Even though he wasn’t hungry, he had to admit that the food smelled good. He stared at the plate of food as the sound of your fork filled the air. 

“Don’t make me have to feed you again. I’ll make starship sounds this time.” You took a bite of your fish and hummed, so good. 

The way you hummed was… adorable. He released a deep chuckle at your comment. “As fun as that was, I can feed myself.” Crosshair stabbed at his food and moved to take a bite. His stomach twisted and his mouth dried. He didn’t want to eat. A sound caught his attention, making him look up. 

You grabbed your plate and glass of wine and moved around the table to sit next to him. “You say that. But I think you need a little help.” Reaching across the table, you grabbed his plate and swapped it for yours. 

“What are you doing?” He watched with curiosity as you took the fork from his hand and handed him your fork. 

“Making this awkward for the both of us.” You picked up a piece of his fish and grabbed his hand holding your fork. You moved his hand down to your plate and helped him fill your fork. “Feed me.”

Crosshair stared at you in shock. “What?” 

You let out an annoyed sigh and pulled the fork towards you. “Feed me and I’ll feed you. That way we’re both being awkward about this.” 

“You can’t be serious.” You couldn’t be, right? 

“As serious as a heart attack, Crosshair. Now. Let’s eat before this gets cold. Cold cooked fish isn’t exactly delicious.”  You waved the fork full of food in front of his face. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and allowed you to feed him once more.

It was once again delicious. It melted in his mouth while the flavors danced across his tongue. Maker, you could cook like no other person he’d ever met. He followed your action and pushed your fork forward. You parted your plump lips carefully and he slid the fork in. You hummed once more and his heart did that skipping thing again. Maybe he should get that looked at. He took in the way you were staring at him and it took him a moment to realize why. You were waiting for him to say something about the meal. “It’s good. Thanks.” 

Well, it wasn’t some on-the-roof proclamation of how much he liked it, but it would do. “Glad ya like it.” You picked up some more of his fish and placed it near his lips. “Tell me if you get full. Don’t want to make you sick.” He opened his mouth for more, making you smile as you slid the fork in. He repeated the action to you and the two of you slowly began to go back and forth. 

It wasn’t until you heard the fork tap against the plate that you realized thirty minutes had gone by and he’d eaten nearly all the fish. Both of your wine glasses had gone untouched during the entire time. You cleared your throat and placed the fork down before picking up your glass and taking a sip from it. “I think I’ve had my fill.” Your fish was over halfway gone, but you’d had lunch with Chai unlike him. “Thank you for feeding me.” 

Crosshair shifted as you leaned back with your glass. It seemed you were done feeding him. Which was good because he was honestly starting to feel full. “Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Oh, he hadn’t meant for that to come out so snarky. To his surprise. You reached over and took his free hand in yours. It was so soft. 

“Crosshair, you always have a choice. Please, if I ever overstep a boundary let me know. I’ll never truly force you to do something you don’t want to do.” You truly hoped he didn’t think you would. All you’d been trying to do was help him out of his funk.  “I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression.” You swirled the white wine in your glass carefully while looking away from him. Perhaps you’d overstepped?

You didn’t look as nice with that frown on your lips. He reached up and took your hand from his shoulder and moved it down to the table. Holding it gently, he shook his head. “Ya didn’t force me, Doll. Ya …” he thought about the right words for a moment. “Ya nudged me. So thanks, I guess.”

You looked at him through your lashes and chuckled softly. “I’m good at that.” His rough hand holding yours was surprisingly nice. You expected him to let go after speaking but he didn’t, in fact, it felt like he was slowly pulling you closer. Your heart beat faster than you thought possible at the idea that he wanted you close. None of this had been done in hopes of growing closer to him. You just didn’t want him in your inn depressed and alone. Right?

Right?

Sure, he was handsome with a lovely set of muscles and a jawline so sharp you could cut paper with it. Sure, his voice was nice and reminded you of… something. A dream maybe? But he was a customer and you had that rule in place for a reason. You’d been hurt too many times by customers who came and went when they pleased. Who played with your heart while they were around just to fly off to some other planet and repeat the same things to some other woman? 

But Crosshair wasn’t leaving, was he? Hunter and Echo had said they planned to settle down here on Pabu. Wrecker and Omega were clearly settling in as well. Perhaps that meant so would Crosshair? The idea made you flush at the possible implications. It would change things, wouldn’t it? Instead of him being a customer who came and went when he pleased, he’d be a neighbor, a fellow islander. That could make a potential relationship easier. 

Crosshair cleared his throat drawing your attention and you realized you’d been zoning out while staring at him. How embarrassing. It felt like your entire face was red now. Here you two were having a simple conversation and you were already planning how you’d make a relationship work. How pathetic could you get? Were you seriously that desperate to have your heart broken again? 

“Hmm? “ You shook the thoughts about him away. It took you a moment to remember what he’d said. “Oh, yeah. You're welcome.”  Placing the wine glass down, you reached up and brushed some hair behind your ear. “I can’t promise an amazing meal each time but… well if you’d ever like to eat together again we can.” 

He reluctantly released your hand and nodded. More time with you? It sounded nice. Plus it seemed with you eating with him he was more likely to finish a meal. But was that something he deserved? To be allowed the ability to eat with you and see that smile whenever he wanted? How could he be allowed that honor after everything he’d done? Would you rescind the offer once you learned who he truly was? “Y-yeah. Sounds good.” 

He stood from the table and so did you, you reached for the plate in front of him while he reached for the one in front of you. The two of you nearly hit heads making you stutter in surprise. Now that you were this close to him it was easier to make out his features. You hadn’t realized how brown his eyes were. It was like looking into a mug of hot chocolate with swirls of whipped cream in it. Not exactly pure brown but not tan either. Yes, you knew they were warm but you’d never seen them this close before. Now that you had, you felt even warmer. Then there were the bags under his eyes. Not as prominent as they had been thanks to the sleep he’d gotten earlier, but still there. Then of course there was his tattoo. You weren’t positive about what it was but you believed it was called a crosshair. At least that was what one of the bounty hunters you’d momentarily been with had called it. 

Crosshair stared at you for a moment, surprised that the two of you had almost hit each other. Your lips were parted in surprise while your eyes were wide. Eyes that reminded him of his dreams. Eyes that were filled with hope and happiness. Crosshair swallowed as he stepped around the table closer to you. He watched as you licked your lips nervously before allowing him to get closer. “It was good, by the way. Really good.” He whispered to you before raising his hand to touch your cheek. “You’re good at cooking.” 

“Thanks.” Your voice was soft. You watched his hand carefully as a shuddering breath left you. Yes, touch me. You thought as his hand hovered over your cheek. He hesitated for a moment making you wonder if he was nervous. You stepped forward and placed your cheek against his hand. He sighed softly, making your heart race again. “If there’s anything you desire, let me know.”

There was only one thing he desired in this moment and it was simply your lips against his. He leaned forward to do just that when a thump from upstairs sounded off in the room. It seemed to be enough to shake the trance you two had been in as you pulled away from him suddenly. 

You cleared your throat while pulling away. You couldn’t get involved with another customer. Not again. “I’ll clean this up. You should get some more rest.” Turning away from him was hard with the shocked way he was looking at you. No, Doll. Not another one. You kept telling yourself the lie. That you wouldn’t cave to him and let your desires get the best of you. But in the end, you’d probably give into that carnal desire to be touched. 

Oh. “Okay.” He nodded before stepping away from the table. “Thanks, again.” He motioned to the bedroom. “For everything.” 

“Of course.” You picked up the plates and turned towards the kitchen. Hesitating, you looked over your shoulder at him one last time. “You ever want to talk, I’m a good listener.” 

The smile you gave him was pure and made his heart warm. “Yeah, I’ll remember that.” You were just as sweet and kind as you were in his dreams. Without any other hesitation, he turned and left your private apartment. 

-*-

Crosshair sat in his room in deep thought. You’d cleaned his room for him, wiped things down, changed the bedding, and aired out the room. Hell, you’d even placed a vase of flowers on the table. It felt brand new to him. But it lacked your smell. The pillows didn’t hold your perfume the way yours did. The bed wasn’t as soft as yours. In short, it was boring. 

He laid back on the bed with a huff and stared at the ceiling. How would he sleep now with that smile of yours racing through his thoughts or the way? The silence of the night filled his room while a cool breeze drifted its way around his body from the open window. The scent of flowers filled the air, making him hum. Flowers. You liked flowers. It was clear from your room and the fact that your room smelled heavily of them. 

A long sigh left crosshair as he made his way over to the shower. He needed to clear his head and not think of you so much. He clicked the water on hot and didn’t he so state to step in. The cold water shocked his body to the point that you quickly left his mind. “Finally.” He whispered as the water started to heat up. Finally, you were out of his mind. 

“Crosshair.” 

The voice caught him off guard. He hadn’t heard it in weeks. Well, he had, but not like this. 

“Crosshair. Come to me.” Your voice danced in his ears like a siren's song. 

“No. You’re not real.” He whimpered softly while the hot water began to warm his skin. 

“That isn’t a bad thing? Is it?”  You wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your hands on his chest. 

The phantom feeling drifted across his body. This was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the first time you appeared. “It is. I can’t…I can’t have you.���

“Yes, you can. Cross. You can have me all you want.” Your hands drifted down his body and wrapped around his hardening cock. “Let me help you, Crosshair. Let me take care of this.” 

“Please.” He shuddered as his hand wrapped around yours and slowly stroked his length. “Mesh’la, please. This is torture.” 

“Then give in.”

He couldn’t fight it anymore. With a few smooth strokes of his fist, he began to think about your beauty. Your lips and how succulent they looked. How your hips swayed when you walked and how softly you spoke to him. The way you cared so deeply it hurt for he knew that the moment you found out about his past you’d leave. “D-Doll.” He whispered your name into the steam filling the room. Stroke after stroke drew him to his first release in months. 

“That’s my good boy.”  You moved around in front of him and kissed him sweetly. 

Then you were gone and he was once again alone. His mess on the floor of the shower and his hand were the only reminders that you’d been there. 

-*-

Crosshair allowed the early morning air to envelope his body while he walked towards the waiting patio. You were once more standing there allowing the cool air to wrap around your body. Your ruffled nightgown blew in the breeze and slid across the back of your legs. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist before kissing the crook of your neck. “It’s early, Doll.” 

You’d been enjoying that lovely morning air when you’d felt arms wrap around your body. You were in such a haze that you didn’t register what was happening until you felt lips on your skin and then he spoke. “C-Crosshair?” What in the stars was he doing?

“Hmm?” He nuzzled against your skin, enjoying the scent of you. 

“What are you doing?” Your bodies began to sway back and forth as he moved you to the side. It felt nice and while you enjoyed the feeling of him so close it was not normal for him.

Crosshair hummed in thought for a moment before speaking. His arms holding you tighter. “Just enjoying the feel of you.” He felt you wiggle in his arms and after a moment he let you go. 

You turned and faced him with surprise on your face. “Are you okay?” Stepping forward, you placed a hand against his forehead to see if he was sick. It would explain the odd behavior. His arms were back around your waist and he pulled you close once more. “C-Crosshair!” 

“Kiss me, Doll.” It sounded almost like he was begging. “Like earlier.” 

Earlier? What was he talking about? “Crosshair? Do you know who I am?” 

“My Doll. My beautiful Doll.” He ran his nose against the tip of yours. 

Well… yes you were Doll. He was right about that. It was the hazy look in his eyes that made you wonder if he was ok. “Do you know where we are?”

He chuckled and nodded. “In our home.” 

Well, that made it clear what was happening. “Crosshair? I think you’re sleepwalking.” You placed a hand on his chest. At least he wasn’t sleepwalking while naked like one of your previous guests. He needed to wake up.  He chuckled once more and it went so deep you felt it in your chest. “I’m going to wake you up, Crosshair.”  You tried to wiggle from his arms but found his grip around you too strong. Maker, he was strong. If this was any other moment you’d savor the feeling. But right now, how he was acting wasn’t him.

You tapped his chest a few times to try and gently wake him up but nothing seemed to work. You knew from the event with the naked customer that waking him up too suddenly would result in him possibly attacking you. Chewing your lip, you tried to think of what to do. Staring at his lips you wondered if something else would work. Standing on the tips of your toes, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips against his. 

Crosshair sighed against your lips and held you close. For minutes it felt like everything he’d dreamed about with you. It was all so real and wonderful. You tasted like your morning caf that was just a little too sweet and you smelled like flowers. Your body was warm against the cool morning air and that sweet little hum you made was just perfect. So perfect and wonderful and real.

Too real.

It was like it all hit him suddenly. With a gasp, he gripped your upper arms tightly and stared at you. “W-what happened?” Why were you kissing? Not that it wasn’t nice, but you barely knew each other. Hell, he’d only just started talking to you. 

You cleared your throat a few times trying to get him to release your arms. His grip was just a little too tight. “You were sleepwalking.” 

He stared at you in utter surprise. He didn’t know he did that. As he took a moment to try and remember what he was dreaming about, he released your arms slowly. It all came back to him like being hit with a freighter. He’d held you, snuggled your neck, and kissed you. He’d said things to you too. Things he only said in the safety of his dreams. This was the first time he’d even dreamed about you since arriving. Now he was sleepwalking when he did it? Fuck, what else was he capable of doing while sleepwalking? “S-Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You stepped back from him. “Umm, I should get things ready for breakfast.” Yup, time to make your getaway. 

“Right.” He stepped to the side and watched you walk towards the kitchen. “Thanks for waking me up.” 

You stopped and looked back at him. “Anytime.” Turning back to the kitchen you walked over to the sink and began to fill the kettle for tea. You heard him head back up the stairs to his room. Raising your hand to your lips, you ran your fingers across the delicate skin while thinking about the kiss. “Anytime.”

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[megacharicific]

been thinking of a fic idea i don't have time to write so i'm posting the premise and it's free for the taking if anyone is interested

~

The rain droplets glance off his cowl, further soaking the stones on the ground. The wet, worn rocks on the paved path gleam under the moon’s light. It’s high and bright in the sky, well past a reasonable hour to bother most people. But he knows this household keeps to a nocturnal schedule. He reaches their door and knocks. Leaves rustle as a mouse startles at the noise and flees the bush he is next to. He doesn’t hear the footsteps of someone coming to answer him. How long should he wait? Does he knock again, or invite himself in? They are friends enough that the inhabitants wouldn’t mind. The door swings inwards before he makes a decision. Astarion lounges against the door frame, awash in warm, homely lamplight.

For a moment, he only twirls a coin between his fingers, over his knuckles, sliding it along the back of his hand; fidgeting.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Mattis.”

“Is Wyll home?”

Astarion huffs. “Don’t go hiding your favorites, darling.”

Mattis wrinkles his nose. “Well, have you signed a contract with a devil before?”

“No, I didn’t have to. My sire kindly did that for me.”

Congrats, Mattis, you messed that up bad. He wants to bite his tongue so hard he can take back what he said.

“Sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Ha!”Astarion exclaims. “Oh, that’s cute. You really have been spending too long with Wyll if you’ve learned to apologize. I’m not so easily offended, don’t worry.”

Astarion pushed himself to stand straight, and Mattis slips into the house, giving him a stink-eye.

“Don’t call me cute.”

Behind him, Astarion shuts the door, and a laugh bursts from him.

“Sorry,” he says when he’s done. “Wyll’s looking after his father. Probably overnight. Human bodies are such a mess when they’re old, you know. Gives me something to be grateful for. What’s going wrong in your life?”

Mattis takes his hood off, combs a hand through his hair to get the rain out. He’s too agitated not to keep pacing circles in the room. He slams a hand in a table, feels brief satisfaction as his nails dig in the wood.

“Mol signed another contract,” he confesses, finally. “And I- I don’t know how to get her out of this one.”

[occasionaloneshots]

Okay so when I'm working on a long fic and I don't have time to get into it but i get an idea (like at work or things of that nature) I have a bad habit of adding it in the most confusing way but the least amount of words I can to a section of my outline titled "Notes app shit" and it helps me remember but is actually insane and makes zero sense to it's actual context to anyone else.

Anyway, here's the top hits that helped me make my outline for the Monty Foster Mom who was a dog fic (it has a title but idk if I wanna keep it, and I'm annoying and want to have it done so I just have to edit as I post it, it will come out eventually) If you don’t know my blog, it's referring to this post (Also trigger warning for abuse and gore mentions)

Monty candle panic (vague mentions that TCK fucks with wax play I fucking guess?)

Magic collar fuck shit

“Baby come on, I know I sold your soul to make you semi-immortal but look at how charming I am. Why would you want me to have to spend 7 lives without you?” Immediately loses a life

“From Mama’s toy to Momma’s boy. What a sad husband you’d make”

“I am so irrevocably in love with you, my sun rises for you. You could beat me to my last life and in my weakest state I’d still curl up in your arms just to feel your love” “you were literally trying to fuck that ghost last month” “okay and? This isn’t about that”

I don’t want your boy, please come get him. He’s reeking up my store with all his internalized hatred

“You’re exhausting. You’re all teenage petulance until she comes around then suddenly you’re all ‘Mommy let me read you your birth chart and can you play with my hair’ like a toddler showing her a painting. No wonder you don’t have friends your age.”

Monty breaks a cup, literally prepares to die

“You’re laughing? I tell you that both of your mothers beat me to death and you’re laughing?” “Well, did you deserve it?” “Only the first time, I ate that shit the second time”

Not close, not enemies, some secret third thing (Lots of respect but no love) 

they’re family, they’re lovers, they’re enemies, they’re everything and nothing all at once “I’m not the step-dad, I’m the dad who stepped up” “You’re neither actually” 

Siblings who hate each other but would jump in front of a bus for each other. One time his ass brought her a glass of ice and told her to wait for it when she asked for water.

“There’s a bird boy in my house and idk where the cannibalism line is there”

I can forgive her for what she did to me, but with how fucked up he is? If that witch was still here I’d use her entrails as a jump rope 

Drags Monty bird to the store, he has a thing for sunflower seeds which she finds very cute

 Seneca scented mother fucker stinking her place up with his smell and his vibes, god damn (This one was personal due to a man at work's whole damn aura smelling like a seneca)

Yeah I have an ex who did some major supernatural fuck shit to me too

TCK saves her from a creepy customer by pretending to be her man, he instantly becomes the creepy customer

Shout out cat king magic, less of a shout out to those bloody teeth marks in her shoulder

Anyway, to the few people who said they wanted it, it'll be here eventually. IDK starting it is really hard when the idea stemmed from a scene from chapters 2, 3, 6, and 8 I'm working very sporadically rn