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barbielanno · 20 days

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Shut up and kiss me

warning : smut

summary: you are oscar's girlfriends' lily's friend and she sets you up with lando norris

“Where are you?”, I text to my bestfriend Lily as I’ve been waiting for her in a cafe for about 20 minutes now. “I’m sorry y/n, I can’t make it. I’m busy but I sent someone to pick you up. Please be nice to him. I told him about you and you’ll recognise him when he comes ;). I hope you are wearing a good pair of innies”. WHAT THE HELL! What does she mean? Who did she send? “Hello Miss. y/n”. LANDO??? SHE SENT LANDO NORRIS TO PICK ME UPPPPPP???? “I’m Lando Norris, Oscar’s teammate. Lily requested me to pick you up, Osc is quite sick and she is keeping him company.” Fuck… the words aren’t coming off my mouth. I’M froze. “Hi Lan, I have seen you on tv. You are more pretty in person. I’m so sorry, I would’ve booked a cab if she texted me earlier. Sorry to waste your time”. “First of all, thank you for calling me pretty as I’m too mesmerised by your beauty. And secondly, I offered Lily to pick you up. I’ve seen your photos with her and thought you were very cute.” DID LANDO NORRIS JUST TOLD ME I’M CUTEEE? ANY LACK OF SELF ESTEEM FROM THESE DAY ONWARDS WOULD BE AN INSULT TO LANDO. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DOOOOO? I CANNOT TELL THIS MAN THAT I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH HIM SINCE 2019. “What are you thinking pretty, are you uncomfortable with me?” “NO, no Lan, I um I uh um I just am starstruck at the moment.” “Haha, so shall we?” He tilts his head hinting me we should go to his car.

“Yes, let’s go” and I follow him. “you have a very pretty car”, I say and he opens the door for me. Ugh!!! Such a gentleman. “now I’ll have a pretty company to drive this pretty car” he replies SUCH A FLIRTTTTTTT. We sat In his car and he drives. Suddenly I get a text from lily. Oscar is having health issues so we are in the hospital. They do not allow visitors at this time so spend time with your crush ;). I sigh looking at text and Lando asks me if everything is alright. I tell him what lily texted and that we cannot go to them right now so he should drop me at the hotel. Lando: “well, it’s your first time here in London and spending the evening at the hotel is not the most rational thinking. Let me show you the places if you are not uncomfortable.” “Uh no, I’m totally fine but you must be busy considering you have a race next week.” I say. “Trust me y/n, I can make time for you”. Oh my god. He has his way with words. My heart is melting and if I spend even a minute more with him, I’m gonna fall in love with him. He takes me to watch sunset but fuckkkkk uk’s weather. It started raining as we parked the car and went 10 mins up walking. Now idk what to do. I’m drenched and I’m wearing a white shirt. He looks at me with his intense eyes and gives me his jacket to cover me up. “Uh thank you” I say. “It isn’t for you, it’s for me. I dont wan’t anyone looking at you when you are looking this hot”. What did he just sayyyyy? We rushed back to his car.

“ Look y/n, I really wanted to show you the sunset and ask you out for the coffee and since that didn’t work out because of this damn weather and look at you at the moment. You look so sexy with this wet hair and the white shirt. I’m known to be a good driver but at the moment you are driving me crazy. Please let me take you back to my apartment please?” My heart races as I hear him say those words. I’ve been thinking about him a lot specially when I’m alone at my room but now since it is happening in real life, my brain cannot process this all. We go back to his apartment and it’s amazing. I open the jacket he provided me earlier and give him back. I need to change my outfit.

I want to ask where the bathroom is but he has been staring at me since I opened the jacket. “Lando, I um ” . “Don’t look at me with those big brown eyes, I dont know what I’ll do next” he says. Fuck he is so hot, it’s turning me on and his curls are wet and I can’t stop thinking about what’s underneath that shirt of him. “SHOW me”. I say

He looks at me confused and says “what?”. “Show me what you’ll do next”. before I could see his reaction to my words, he pulled me by my waist and kissed me. That kiss, like a fairytale crescendo, outshone every sensation I've ever known. I melted right there. I wanted the time to stop and I didn’t wanna let that man go. He pulled back and looked into my eyes “so you have wanted this no y/n? You were just playing hard to get. Your body wants me as much as I want you sweetheart”. I was too turned on to reply what he had to say. “Shut up Lan” I said as I pulled him by his collar. Fuck why isn’t he coming close. “Y/n, my baby, I have a good neck exercise. You’re too weak for that”. This man is a tease and I need him right now. “Lan, I’m gonna walk away from here and sleep with the first man I see if you dont kiss me right now”. His eyes darkened as he heard those words coming from my mouth. He grabbed me by my neck and pulled me closer. “Cocky? Huh I know no one can make you wet if it’s not me, tell me you are mine and I’ll touch you”. I know I have to give myself to him because he will not touch me if I don’t say what I’m told. “Lan, I’m yours, all yours. Now, pl..” I couldn’t even complete what I was about to say an he kissed me. Harder this time, much intense and much sexier than earlier. He bit my lower lip and used his tongue. He is a pro. He slowly goes down to my neck and place soft kisses and I’m already wet. I try to unbutton his shirt but I can’t because my hands are cold and they are shivering. He understands what I need and rip his shirt off. Oh god he is so hot underneath that shirt. I look at his body with lusty eyes as I kiss his chest and proceed to move down while holding eye contact with him. He doesn’t let me go down and pulls me up and kissed me. He unbutton my shirt and undo my bra. He kisses every square inch of my body and squeeze my boobs. “Wow!! They are handful, I love them” he says. “Baby, can I go down on you” he asks me as if I was about to stop him. Who in the world could resist Lando Norris? I bit my lower lip and say “please”. He kisses my inner thighs, teases me and licks me. Wow he sure is best at everything he does. He press my lower abdomen as he continues eating me out. I moan in pleasure. “Uhh umm Lan”

“Baby” I roll my eyes. “keep making those sounds for me love”

“I’m about to .. uh”

He knows I’m about to finish so he pulls himself away. Such a tease 😈 . I know what he wants.

“Baby I need you inside of me, NOW.” I say and didn’t even notice him taking off his pants already. “See what you’ve done to me”. He looks at my eyes and demands me to see him. “Can you take all of it?” He winks. “ try me” I say. I know he loves playing so I go along with it. He puts his little (BIG) lando inside of me and I scream in pain or should I say pleasure. “Baby you feel so good” he thrusts faster. “Harder Lannie” he knows the rhythm. He knows when to go slow and hard and when fast. “Mhmmm” he moans near my ears and I know he is enjoying it as much as I am. “Baby, I’m about to come” he says. And goes faster. We both finished at the same time and that was amazing. He takes it off of me and places a kiss on my forehead. “We need to clean the mess we have made baby.” And lays beside me. “I’m too tired for that Lan. Let’s clean it later” I say. “Y/n, will you be my girlfriend? I don’t want this to end. I want you everyday.”

Oh my god this man is a GENTLEMAN.

“Yes my love”. And we cuddle and sleep.

#lando norris #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mclaren f1 #lando x reader #lando imagine #ln4

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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Ghost!Robin Part 4

Here's your next part of the Ghost!Robin fic for WIP Wednesday. I'm gonna start putting fic designation in the title field rather than WIP Wednesday because I think it makes it easier to read.

Also, everyone came out in numbers for last week's segment! Damn! Thank you and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this little fic of mine. We'll probably get one more week of this before I go back to Bring Me Home, but it'll depend what I feel like. I want to rework some of what I have written next.

First, Previous

1.1k words + a 464 word Omake (cut scene)

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Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

“So are you in school to become an engineer or something?” asked Dick who’d gotten Damian calmed down and sitting. The boy had gotten his knife back and was spinning it in his hands. Bruce seemed to be fondly exacerbated by the scene. Robin had pulled out a ghostly weapon and was trying to copy Damian’s movements, though he wasn’t quite as adept.

Danny shook his head to Dick’s question. “Nah. Hard to get into engineering school when you fail high school.” Danny narrowed his eyes as Damian’s mouth opened, but Dick whispered in his ear again and the boy didn’t say anything.

“I ended up dropping out of high school and getting a GED,” said Tim. “It can work just as well.”

Robin was nodding along and pointing at himself, too. Had he died before he could complete his schooling, too?

“I’m sure. It’s just not a priority for me right now. I don’t need one for my job and I can’t become an astronaut because of my accident when I was fourteen.”

Dick was nodding, but Tim looked confused and asked, “Fourteen? I thought you had your accident when you were older?”

“Why would you think that?” Had he or Jazz made any reference to when his accident was? “No, it happened when I was fourteen. A few weeks before I started my freshman year of high school.

Before Tim could ask anything else, Steph called out from the other side of the room. “Did you say you wanted to be an astronaut? Totally awesome. What made you pick that?”

“I honestly don’t know why everyone doesn’t want to be astronauts! Space is so cool. We can learn so much about the universe by studying it in closer detail. And with how many aliens are now living at least part time on Earth, it only makes sense to explore and see what else might be out there.”

Bruce nodded at him. “I am sorry you aren’t able to become one.”

Danny just waved a hand in the air. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. And my current job is fine. Might not be what I would’ve chosen, but I’ve made it work for me.” Deciding he should change the subject before someone had the brilliant idea to ask more about his accident or job, he asked, “So what is for dinner, anyway? You’ve all talked about how amazing the food is, but what are we having?”

Someone tried to speak up, but Jason held up a hand. “I’m the one who helped Alfie cook. Demon-brat is vegetarian so we have a vegetarian curry. If you like meat, there’s a prime rib roast. Then a half dozen different sides—vegetables, rice, potatoes. Huge salad with all the fixings and a dozen different dressings to choose from. And dessert after.”

“Damn, that sounds amazing. I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in ages, so I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Has your Grandpa been keeping you that busy?” asked Jazz.

“That, but also getting things in order to take this evening off. There’s just been a lot. I’m spending the night at yours, by the way.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Danny knew he could rely on Jazz.

“Ooh, do you have any good stories about Jazz as a kid?” asked Jason.

Laughing, Danny said, “So many! But I don’t think we’ll be able to get to those tonight. I’ve a feeling you’ll be interested in other things by that point.” At his words, Robin grinned and pointed at himself. Danny gave him a slight nod to confirm that yes, they’d be talking about him.

Before Jason could ask for clarification, Alfred came in to announce dinner was ready.

Robin cheered and flew over to sit on Alfred’s shoulders, hand extended, to lead the way to the dinning room. Danny couldn’t hold back the chuckle and Jazz shot him a look which he ignored.

“There better be a place setting for you, Alfie!” called Jason as they followed.

“You made your opinion quite clear, Master Jason. And as I wish to meet your young lady and her brother as well, I have set myself a plate at the main table.”

Tim leaned over to whisper to Danny. “Alfred considers his role as butler very important. He rarely eats with the rest of us unless we join him in the kitchen.”

Danny nodded to show he understood, but had no idea how to actually reply to that. It seemed needlessly complicated.

Once they made it to the dining room, Danny grinned as Robin did a flip off of Alfred’s shoulders and landed sitting down on one of the place settings facing the associated chair. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing as Jason sat down at that same place. Jazz took a seat next to him and Danny sat to her other side. Dick ended up sitting next to him.

The scents of all the food wafting off the table made his mouth water and he closed his eyes just to breathe it in. “This smells amazing. Thanks Alfred. And Jason.”

Even Robin had moved to look over every dish, reaching out a hand to try and take something and sighing when he just phased through it.

Even Jazz looked a bit overwhelmed at the quantity of food. “This is so much effort. You didn’t have to do all this just for Danny and me.”

Bruce smiled at her. “It is so rare for all of us to be together for dinner so we make a spectacle of it any time it happens. And this is the first time Jason has ever brought anyone with him which makes it an even bigger event.”

Danny nudged her. “So, Jazz, what’s it like living with someone who can cook?”

Jason laughed. “Jazz isn’t allowed in the kitchen. You know, I caught her grabbing my chef’s knife before going into the fridge the other day!”

Danny furrowed his brow. “Of course she did. It’s a fridge.”

“Wait, is that a family trait? Why do you grab a knife to open the fridge? There’s gotta be a good story behind that.”

Before Danny could make the obvious statement regarding attacking food, Jazz elbowed him. “We’ll tell you later. It has to do with our parents and that’s a large topic and not one we should get into now.”

Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

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Omake

Ignoring all of it, Danny shook his head and answered Dick. “Nah. Hard to get into college when you fail high school and are legally dead.”

Multiple people, including Jason, exclaimed at that statement and he looked to Jazz.

“Did Jazz not tell you about that? Our parents swear they saw my ghost and had me declared legally dead. I was missing at the time so the coroner agreed. Sighting the ghost of a missing person is all you need to confirm death in Amity.”

Under her breath, Jazz added, “You were only missing because they had you.”

Danny elbowed her and quietly chirped a Safe now.

Bruce was no longer smiling and was looking at Danny with narrowed eyes. “Your parents had you declared dead.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. I’ve an amazing doctor if I get into trouble. My grandfather is watching out for me. I’m financially stable. My partners are able to rent an apartment large enough for all three of us. I have other places to stay when I’m traveling. Honestly, it doesn’t impact my life all that much. Just means I’m not gonna go to college. And only reason I wanted to go to college was to be an astronaut, but my health makes that impossible.”

“Hn…” Bruce hummed.

And Danny had no idea what that meant, but Robin was now laughing, and Dick was exchanging grins with Tim, and Steph and Cass were whispering together. Damian was glaring at him even harder, blade hilt gripped in his hand. These people were strange.

Danny looked over at Jazz who shrugged. Jason was glaring at Bruce and said, “Don’t you dare.”

“Look, it’s really not a big deal. I know it’s kinda a messed up situation, but ghosts are generally treated really well in Amity. As well as any living human, at least. So long as you avoid the Guys in White and my parents that is. So outside of interactions with them, nothing has changed.”

“If you are ever in need of a place to stay or a meal or anything, you’ll have a room here,” offered Bruce.

Robin landed on Danny’s shoulders and was sending out happy-celebrate feelings. Steph handed Cass a few bills. Tim and Dick mimed giving each other fist bumps. Jason put his head in his hands and groaned. Duke was grinning at them all.

Damian half stood and said, “Father—!”

But Dick was at his side and pulling him back down to the couch with an arm around his shoulders, hand over his mouth, and whispering into his ear before he could do more than say the one word.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” Trying to think of anyway to change the subject, he asked, “So what’s for dinner, anyway?”

And for the Tag List! (Which absolutely exploded this week. Holy shit.)

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@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @emeraldcorpral

The celebration post for 100 followers will be going out in another day or two! I've just had a really busy few weeks and didn't do as much writing as I was hoping for. But I hope to finish writing today and then I'll just take a few hours to edit.

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hanniluvi · 4 months

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( 🚋 ) NOT OUR LAST GOODBYE — KOGA YUDAI FIC

[ DAY THIRTEEN ] of the advent calendar !

( 🚋 ) SYNOPSIS . . . after a heated argument with K, little did you expect that the last time you’d see him would be at his departure, after leaving you in silence for days.

( — ) PAIRING . . . best-friend!k x gn!reader FT. EJ &TEAM

( 🚋 ) GENRE . . . angst lolz, misunderstandings, friends 2 …?

( — ) WARNINGS . . . INSPIRED BY THE MOVIE “20TH CENTURY GIRL” (sorry guys), k and reader kinda frustrating ..

( 🚋 ) NOTE . . . Hi!! Super late Sorry!! but originally this wasn’t even gonna be angst if i be honest … but train station … 20th century girl … so yes!!! also pretend the pics above give christmassy vibes LMAO it js seemed right to keep it like this and yes i can hear u quivering miles away Ms Sonata 😊

Once again, and unsurprisingly, K had missed yet another hangout. You really tried waiting and being considerate, but not even him in sight. Seated alone in the cafe with two drinks you bought with your own money, frustration grew. The plans had been made two weeks prior, and despite K's assurances, he was nowhere to be found.

Unable to bear it any longer, you navigated to your contact list and pressed on his icon, hoping for an explanation. Anxiously biting your nails, you waited through two beeps until he answered with a casual, "Hello?" Your scoff was loud enough for him to hear, a response to his nonchalant greeting after ditching another hangout without any warning.

"Again?"

"Huh?" Did he genuinely believe he had the right to question you after what just happened?

"Are you serious right now? You just missed another hangout, K." His mumbled apology reached your ears, sounding like he was cursing himself for even forgetting. "Damn it—I'm so sorry, YN. Can I make it up to you tomorrow?"

"You've got to be kidding me." You couldn’t help the anger slowly rising in you. “I’m here, waiting in the cold for you just to not show up again?” The hot air escaped your mouth as you scoffed. “You know, you shouldn’t suggest ideas for a winter hangout if you’re just going to not appear.”

"It—it just slipped my mind! I'm sorry," K explained, but you weren't buying it. You've let him slide too many times.

“It just ‘slipped out of your mind’? We planned his hangout 2 weeks prior—you even promised to show up today! Do you think I’m really going to buy that bullshit?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that but—”

“You say this all the time. What the hell have you been doing?”

“Listen—I just…” You could hear him trail off, as if restraining himself from saying more. What could he be hiding that's so important? “I’ve been busy.”

“And so have I? But I've always spared time to hang out with you and show up to everything you schedule. And suddenly you can't show up to something we both agreed on? K, you're slowly becoming distant with me.”

“It's not like I'm trying to!” He lowered his tone, recognizing his anger taking hold. “I just couldn’t do it today. It’s just—it’s not something I can tell you that easily.”

“I'm your best friend, what the hell do you mean?”

“I—I can't say. Not right now.”

“You really have to be an idiot if you think I'm gonna believe that. This friendship can’t work if you’re like this.” You pushed your hair back in frustration. "I get it, you're busy. But this is a pattern, K. A pattern I can't keep ignoring," you stated firmly.

"I know, YN. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you," K continued apologizing.

"I've heard enough apologies, K. You're not the only one with a busy life," you replied, frustration evident in your voice.

"Please, just give me another chance."

But the more he apologized, the more irritated you became. "I need some space, K. Figure out what's going on with you. We'll talk later."

“But YN—”

“Just leave me alone, will you?” You angrily said, clearly sick of his pleading. “You clearly have no problem doing so, it seems like, anyways.” Without another word, you hung up, leaving K with the dial tone and a realization that he screwed up real bad.

And you’ve made it your goal to make him feel how you felt every time he ditches you.

DAY ONE. K attempted to act as if everything was okay, anticipating that you'd eventually give in and talk to him as you always did. Little did he know, you were determined to make him feel the weight of his actions—even if it felt harsh.

“Hey YN,” he greeted, met with your silent response.

“You need help?” you simply shook your head.

“Wanna go together?” He tried once more, but you walked away without a word.

Undoubtedly, a sense of guilt crept in, but the memory of that night kept replaying in your mind, fueling the anger you harbored toward him. K seemed to notice the shift, creating awkward moments and growing distant—much like that regrettable day.

You didn't care; in your eyes, it was deserved.

DAY THREE. You're enduring the silence longer than you initially thought. Ignoring him, refusing to even cross paths, felt strange considering how inseparable you used to be. School had become a bit dull without him, but you were determined to hold out for a week…right?

“Are you seriously not going to talk to him?” EJ asked, straw twirling between his fingers. “You're really creeping me out.” He says, as if you aren’t supposed to be the one creeped out by him instead for drinking an Iced Americano during the first days of winter.

“What do you mean?” you blew onto your cup, closing the lid back to take a sip of your coffee.

“You never hold grudges like this—what's up with you?”

“Okay...but he messed up.”

“Did you hear him out?” EJ maintained eye contact, sipping his drink. “Not blaming you or anything, just wondering.”

“Well…no.”

“YN…”

“Well—if he wanted to, he would’ve reached out by now!” you tried defending yourself, but he was already sighing.

“You’re both too stubborn, aren’t you guys?” EJ shook his head, smiling a little. “Give him another chance—oh look, he’s right there,” he pointed, making you whip your head around, only to turn back to EJ when your eyes accidentally met.

“I have to go,” you hurriedly grabbed your bag, saying a quick goodbye. “Thanks, EJ!”

“YN, your drink—” But you were already running off, footsteps following closely behind. You wanted him to reach out, yet here you were, fleeing and feeling like a loser. But facing him seemed unbearable in your current state of embarrassment.

“YN,” a familiar voice called out, a hand on your arm, pulling you toward him. His warmth had such a contrast from the chilling weather today. You turned around, finding K with a serious expression. “Can we please talk?”

You wanted to be petty. For some reason, having K reach out first, you weren't going to make it easy for him. “I don't think there's anything we need to talk about.”

“Can you stop being like that and just talk to me?”

“Like what? Just some lame excuse about why you're missing time with me?”

“It's not useless—” K scoffed, running his free hand through his hair, locking eyes with you. “Do you really think I'm just here to tell you the same stuff I've been saying all the time?”

“So you've been lying?”

“That's not what I'm trying to say—”

“I've heard enough.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held on, disappointment evident in his eyes. “YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?”

You took a deep breath. “Me? How about you, huh? Have you ever listened to me? Do you think you have the right to say that to me with all this shit you’re doing to me?”

“YN—”

“Here’s your answer then. Because I've spent so much time waiting for you to explain, and you only choose to do it now.” You give him a stern look. “I’m tired of hearing your bullshit—your constant, useless reassurances when you clearly don’t keep your word!”

“I'm tired of waiting for you.”

“YN! Please–”

You turned on your heel, determined to walk away and put an end to the conversation. As you took your first steps, a part of you hoped he would chase after you, while another part was tired of hoping for something that seemed uncertain.

K stood there, conflicted. He debated in his mind whether to let you go or chase after you once again. He longed to. He longed to reveal everything to you. Yet, was it the right moment? Were you even in the proper state of mind to even grasp onto his words? Letting out a substantial sigh, K pivoted, reluctant as he was, and proceeded to walk away from you, leaving you both to walk on two different pathways.

DAY FIVE. K hasn't been showing up to class for the past two days. You felt guilty – you didn't know why, but you had this nagging feeling that it was somehow your fault. EJ quickly picked up on your changed demeanor, his face reflecting concern. As you walked home together, he blurted out, "Did you say goodbye to him?"

You turned to him, confusion etched on your face. You had no idea what EJ was getting at, and he wasn't sure if you even understood the gravity of his words. "Say goodbye to who?"

"To K...?" he hesitated, confirming his suspicions when your expression shifted to one of shock; you were completely unaware. EJ wished he could vanish on the spot.

"EJ, that's not funny." You looked at him, not seeing his joking face he’d usually have. “You’re joking…right?”

"Well, I'm being serious. I'm not the type to joke about that."

“Why did I have to say goodbye?”

“He’s leaving today, YN. Did he not tell you?”

“Can we please talk?” You didn’t hear him out.

“YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?” He wanted to tell you something important. It was your fault.

“YN! Please–” It was your fault. All yours. No one to blame this time.

“You mean like…right now?” You looked at EJ, hoping you still had time to make things right with K. With glossy eyes, you could see his hurt expression, knowing what you had put yourself through. “Yeah. About to leave at the train station nearby.”

“I have to go.”

“YN! Be careful; you might get hurt–” You didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were going to get scrapes on your legs, you didn’t care if EJ was yelling your name—nothing could hurt more than losing a best friend that you didn’t leave off on good terms.

You ran as fast as you could, disregarding the chill in the air and the sting in your lungs. The train station came into view, and there he was—K, standing with a suitcase, staring into the distance. Your heart raced as you approached him, a mix of relief and fear coursing through your veins.

"K!" you called out, breathless.

He turned to you, surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "YN? What are you doing here?"

"I... I heard you were leaving," you panted, trying to catch your breath. "I had to see you before you go."

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I messed up, YN. I messed up big time, and I'm sorry."

"Let's talk about it," you urged, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I thought it was too late for a conversation," your heart shattered upon hearing those words. "But it was my fault anyway. I should've been truthful with you."

"Quit blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault—it was mine. I should've been more empathetic." Tears threatened to spill over as you maintained intense eye contact with him, your insides twisting with emotion.

“I didn’t mean to avoid you,” K began, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I know I messed up too,” you admitted. “I should have listened instead of shutting you out. I should’ve not said those things to you either.”

He nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. “We both made mistakes, didn't we? But, let’s not worry too much about it—we’ll get over it like we always do. I’m leaving for a while, but I don’t want us to end like this. I care about you—damn, I even like you, YN," he said, causing you to gasp a little. "I’m sorry if this is too sudden—I just don’t know if I’d be able to tell you this any other day."

As you stood there, absorbing his unexpected confession, the reality of the situation sank in. "K, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you questioned, a mix of emotions clouding your mind.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I was scared, afraid it would ruin our friendship. But now, facing the distance, I couldn't hold it back any longer."

“K—” The train's arrival interrupted your conversation, and K looked at you with hopeful eyes. "I'll be back, YN. Let's talk when I return, okay?" he pleaded.

You nodded, and he pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, it felt like everything might be okay. “You should go,” K whispered, releasing you from the embrace.

“Take care, okay?” you said, holding back tears.

“You too, YN. I hope we can figure things out when I come back,” he said, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his eyes.

"You promise to come back?"

"You know me. Who am I to fail to keep my promises—well, besides about the hangouts," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood. You smiled, finding comfort in his smile. "Then can you promise me on this one, and try not to break it?"

"I promise," he extended his pinky finger, waiting for you to interlock with him. Once you did, the warmth of his hand—similar from last time—transferred to yours, making it such a bittersweet moment. He brought his hand closer, kissing the side of your hand. "Hope that wasn't too sudden."

He smiled at your blushing face, releasing your hand. He had noticed how little layers you were wearing—did you really run like this just to see him? Taking the scarf of his neck, he wrapped it around yours, looking at you lovingly. "I'll do something sweeter next time. See you later, yeah?" You nodded, and he finally carried his bags to the train.

As K stepped onto the train, you stood there, gazing into his tear-filled eyes. How badly he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Waving, you declared, "I like you too, K!"

His heart warmed slightly. "I can't hear you," he teased, as he would've done by your side. Smiling, you shouted, "I like you so much!"

The doors closed, and you glimpsed K crying. Witnessing his tears always tugged at your heartstrings, and your own tears flowed uncontrollably. The train started moving, and as K disappeared from view, you stood there with tears streaming down your face. The reality of his departure hit you hard. "Come back soon," you whispered to the wind, as if it could carry your message to him.

Your heart felt heavy, and you couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of loss. As you wiped away your tears, you realized how much K meant to you and how the abrupt end to your argument had turned into a farewell.

Walking away from the train station, you carried the weight of mixed emotions. The confession, the unspoken feelings, and the promise of a future conversation lingered in the air. Most importantly, the emptiness lingered, but the promise of a reunion kept you going. Determined to make things right when he returned, you whispered to yourself,

“I’ll wait for you, K.”

ADVENT CALENDAR MLIST — @en-dream @i-yeseo @yizhoutv @yuma-is-mine @wtfhyuck @sansfransisco

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patheticlittlemen · 6 months

Note

i loved ur testosterone post! its v nice to see more trans reader posts :] can i request one with sebastian, alex, and haley?

HOW SDV BACHELORS REACT TO TESTOSTERONE CHANGES PT 2

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Super busy with work and class but here ya go :3 (Once again, mostly based off my experiences on testosterone and a bit NSFW)

ALEX

General- A little jealous of some changes but excited to help you experience what it's like being a man.

Body hair

The cold of winter is finally gone, and it’s time to plant new seeds for the spring. Now that it’s warmed up a bit, you decide to wear shorts instead of your usual jeans. When you walk into the kitchen you see Alex.

“Hey, babe!” He calls out. He walks over to you, picks you up, and places you on the counter. He kisses you and runs his hands along your thighs. Brows furrowing, and he pauses and looks down.

“Whoa! Have you always had this much leg hair?” He leans down, running a hand down your shins.

“It’s new. I’ve been wearing pants a lot, I guess you just never saw.” You say, and Alex places a gentle kiss on your thigh.

“It suits you.”

Facial hair

“Hey, testosterone makes you grow facial hair, right?” Alex asks one night.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty well-known side effect of it. Why?” You ask. Alex hesitates before answering.

“I just…if you grow a better beard than me, I’m gonna be so jealous.” He admits. You smile and grab his hand, squeezing it.

“I can’t make any promises, hun.”

“Fine, I can handle you being the more handsome one in this relationship as long as I’m still the strongest.”

Voice

Laughs every time your voice cracks then profusely apologizes. He loves your raspy morning voice and every time you speak in the morning he blushes.

Bottom growth

Impressed by it. Says, “damn, you grew that all yourself?” And then after you roll your eyes from the comment, he gives you mind-blowing head.

Libido

Horny motherfucker. Like Shane, loves to try anything with you and will give you whatever you want whenever you want.

Bonus: Muscle growth

“Alex, look! I’ve been working out lately…” You flex and Alex’s eyes go wide.

“Holy shit!” He walks over and squeezes your bicep. “Damn, you’re gonna be more jacked than me.”

“Don’t worry, hun. I’m basically on steroids right now, so I gain muscle more easily. I’m basically cheating.” You reassure him.

SEBASTIAN

General- Super supportive and helpful with everything. Does research to make sure you're going through your transition in a healthy way.

Body hair

He likes the hair on your arms and hands. Gushes about how masculine it makes you look.

Facial hair

You wake up to sunlight streaming in through your window. Sebastian’s arms are wrapped tightly around you and his face is buried in your neck.

“Good morning, love.” You murmur and Sebastian pulls back, smiling at you.

“Morning.” He leans in to kiss you, then nuzzles his cheek against yours. He quickly pulls back, a strange expression on his face. He brings his hand up to your face, brushing against your jawline.

“Scratchy. I guess I’ll have to get used to that, huh?” Sebastian grins. “It’ll look great on you.”

Voice

Makes you hum to him while he falls asleep. He gets so excited when your voice drops and tries hard not to laugh when your voice cracks.

Bottom growth

A little confused by it at first, but he wants to learn how to please you. Loves dirty talking about it (i.e. “you’re so hard for me,” “such a pretty cock”).

Libido

Surprisingly keeps up well with you. Of course, he’s not always in the mood, but he loves pleasuring you. He’s very excited to try new things (especially if you want to be dominant).

Bonus: Hunger

You walk into your cabin after a long day of working on the farm. Sebastian is standing in the kitchen, wearing a “kiss the cook” apron. He turns around as you walk in and smiles.

“Hello, darling.” He walks over and kisses you.

“What are you making?” You ask, looking at what’s on the stove.

“Oh! I’ve done some research on what foods are good for you while on testosterone and made some dinner. It’s got vegetables, a lot of protein, and some carbs. There’s some electrolyte water in the fridge for you, too. I know you’ve been super hungry lately, so I’m hoping this will fill you up!” Sebastian smiles.

“You did that for me? I love you so much.”

“Just making sure my husband is happy and healthy.”

HALEY

General- Happy to see you becoming the person you truly are.

Body hair

You’re sitting on the couch, legs across Haley’s lap. She’s absentmindedly stroking them when she pauses.

“Have you ever thought of waxing your legs?”

“No.” You wince at the thought. “That would hurt! Also, I’ve worked hard to grow this much hair.”

“Just curious. You do have very hairy legs, though. Very manly”

Facial hair

“And then, one of my chickens fell into the pond! So that’s what I had going for me this morning.” You chuckle and look over to Haley, who smiles. Her brows furrow for a second and she leans in, staring intensely at your chin.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You ask, and Haley reaches out and touches your chin, then happily squeals.

“You’re growing a beard!” She says happily.

“I mean, it’s just peach fuzz right now, but-” Haley cuts you off with a kiss.

Voice

Obsessed with your voice. Asks you random questions just to hear you speak and makes you talk to her as she’s falling asleep.

Bottom growth

Before testosterone, she was always good with her mouth and despite her lack of experience with bottom growth, she’s amazing with yours. Can always find the right spots and loves to hear you whimper when she hits them.

Libido

Not always able to keep up with you, but if she ever catches you jerking off she’ll offer a hand (or a mouth). She’s always glad to help you out and is willing to try new things for you.

Bonus: Senses changing

You’re working on a cake with Haley. Every now and then you two like to bake together, as a little date.

“Babe, is something wrong? I’m not fighting you to keep your fingers out of the icing like usual.” Haley teases.

“You’re right. I dunno, I guess I just don’t have as much of a sweet tooth now.” You say.

“More for me then!” Haley sticks her finger in the icing and licks it.

tag list: @simpamonroll

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #alex sdv x reader #alex stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #haley sdv x reader #haley stardew valley x reader #transmasc reader

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keiththecat · 11 months

Text

Trading Hurts

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You're a lifelong hunter, and you help out the Winchester brothers, saving Sam's life and risking your own. Your fast feelings for Sam scare you and you run away. What will happen when you run into the brothers again?

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, hurt/comfort, medical procedures, cursing

Author's Note: Hello friends! Second ever fic here. Had to show some love for the other Winchester brother too! As always, Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

AO3 link here

“Sam! Look out!” Dean yells as he sinks his silver blade into the heart of the werewolf he’s been wrestling.

Sam is standing over a werewolf he just killed. He turns around to see why Dean yelled, feeling claws tear the flesh on his left side as he turns. His right hand goes to the wound, his knife falls from his left hand, and he makes eye contact with the wolf as it roars. The roar quickly turns into a look of confusion and hurt before the wolf collapses in front of Sam. Behind the wolf, you are left standing in front of Sam, smirk on your face and blood-covered knife in hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Looked like you could use some help.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m Sam.” Sam says, still holding his side. Damn, she’s gorgeous, he thinks to himself.

“Not a probl-“ you’re cut off by a werewolf suddenly behind you, grabbing you by the neck and throwing you into a nearby tree. Everything goes black.

The next thing you know, your eyes snap open in the back of a car. Your head is propped up by something warm and you feel like you can’t breathe. Your body is in so much pain, it feels like you’re on fire. You start to panic, willing your body to move to find a way out.

“Hey, no, you’re okay,” Sam’s face comes into view above you. You realize your head is propped up on his lap and he’s trying to hold your arms down so you don’t flail around. “I need you to look at me and take a second, Y/N.”

You try to calm down. You look into his hazel eyes and your mind tries to catch up. Well, you think, if this is how I go, at least I get to look into a touch of Heaven first.

You try to remember how you got here. “Right,” you start, voice raspy, “werewolves. Winchesters.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow, “You know who we are?”

You nod and then wince when it causes a jolt of pain like lightning through you.

“Sorry, right, not important right now,” his voice continues, “you’re injured pretty badly. We’re on our way to the hospital to get-”

“No!” You cut him off. “Please, no hospitals.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam takes your hand in his, then makes eye contact with his brother who’s driving. “No hospital.” He looks back at you, “Can we at least take you to our bunker to-“

“Sammy,” Dean warns. “We don’t even know her, you want to take her to the bunker?”

“What other option do we have, Dean? Cas is busy and not answering. She’s injured because she saved me!”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here.” You interject awkwardly. “You can just drop me at my motel room, I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse alone before.”

“No, we’re taking you to our bunker and doing what we can to fix you up. It’s the least we can do.” Sam leaves no room for argument. Dean grumbles under his breath in the front seat but keeps driving.

You try to mentally take stock of your injuries. Hm, you think, definitely a few broken or at least bruised ribs. Probably a concussion. I feel wet and sticky so I’m sure I’m bleeding somewhere but must not be too bad since I’m still alive. For now, at least, I guess.

Sam continues holding your hand and mindlessly running his fingers through your hair until the car eventually stops and is shut off. Dean gets out of the car first, “I’ll get stuff set up in the infirmary.”

Sam eases himself out from under your head, then turns back toward you. “Can I, um-“ he reaches his arms toward you.

“Carry me? I can probably walk.” You start to sit up, but you’re hit with a tidal wave of nausea and fall back to the seat. You take as deep a breath as you can manage, pushing the nausea away as best you can, “Okay, maybe not. Would you mind?”

“No, no, not at all,” he insists. Suddenly you’re in his arms, he’s walking, and you’re wondering what kind of muscles he has hidden under all that plaid. He laughs under his breath a little, cheeks and ears turning red. You realize you must have wondered out loud. “Sorry,” you say, turning to hide your face against his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Probably the best compliment I’ve had in a while.”

He makes his way to what you assume is the infirmary. Dean is setting out supplies for bandages, stitches, and wound cleaning next to an old cot. Sam gently places you down on the cot. “Are you okay with me checking out your wounds and cleaning you up some?”

You respond in the affirmative. Dean is standing a few feet away, leaning against another cot, staring at you. “So how long have you been a hunter? What’s your deal?”

“Dean,” Sam says, and fixes him with a look. “Can’t this wait?”

“It’s fine, Sam,” you touch his arm. You lean forward, reach over, grab shears and hand them to Sam. “Start with my back, it hurts the worst.”

Sam looks at you for a moment, then gets to work cutting your shirt open from behind. He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “How’s the damage back there, Sam?” You ask.

“Well, you’re definitely gonna hurt for a while. I’ll have to stitch a few wounds back here, and you’re already bruising.” He prods his way down your back on each side, “Feels like a few broken ribs, too.”

You realize you’ve had your eyes closed, relaxing to his voice even as he delivers the news. “I figured. Just do what you can please.”

Sam starts cleaning and stitching what he can. You explain that you’ve been a hunter since birth, your mother dying in childbirth and your now deceased father raising you in the hunting life until he died when you were barely a teen. Then you tell them how Bobby Singer has treated you like his own.

“How come we’ve never ran into you before then? We’re at Bobby’s all the time.” Dean asks, still seeming skeptical.

“I haven’t been back there in years. Even when I was there, I stayed for a few hours max. I keep busy,” you explain, “I didn’t grow up in one place, so it always felt weird to stay stagnant. Felt dangerous.”

“Like things could catch up to you if you stopped moving,” Sam says quietly from behind you, his large but gentle hands continuing to sew a large gash down your back from the tree. You nod as best you can without making the pain worse.

“Alright,” Dean says, “you can stay as long as you want. At least stay until you’re healed. The place is warded, you’ll be safe here. You got this, Sammy?”

“Yeah, we’ll be good.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go clean the blood out of Baby and hit the hay.” Dean leaves, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

“Baby? I assume that’s his car?” You ask.

Sam laughs lightly, “yeah.”

Silence passes between you two, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Sam finishes with your back, and then you feel him gently place something over your back, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment. You’re hit with a wave of his smell, and you realize he placed his plaid shirt on you. He comes around in front of you, now in a short sleeve black V neck that lets you see exactly how ripped he is. Holy muscles, you think, so that’s how he carried me so easily.

“I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. You seem to be okay mentally so far, but let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

You laugh a little, looking away shyly to break your stare, “yeah, sounds good to me. Thanks, Sam.”

“No, thank you for saving me.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need stitched up too? He scratched you before I got him, didn’t he?” You reach for his side, mentally smacking yourself for forgetting.

“No, no, I’m okay. Not deep enough to need stitches, I don’t think.” He brushes you off, glancing down at his side where the shirt is torn, long but thin scratches peeking out underneath.

“If you say so. But seriously, thank you. You definitely saved me back there.” You say, slowly getting yourself up. He reaches out to place a hand under your elbow, helping to steady you once you’re on your feet. Your hand falls to his bicep, and you bring your other hand to rest on his chest. “Damn, you’re built like a tree. Is that a Winchester thing?”

Sam bursts into laughter, his adorable dimples bracketing the most gorgeous smile you think you’ve ever seen. His cheeks and ears are turning red again. “Aw, is Samuel blushing?” You tease.

This was the start of your crush. Except you couldn’t even call it a crush, you were instantly head over heels in love with the taller Winchester. It hit you like a hurricane. So sweet, attentive, selfless, and that’s not even mentioning his smoking hot body. Silky chestnut hair, deep hazel eyes full of emotion. But instead of giving in to the temptation and telling him how you feel, you left just two days later. You couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by him, or of being so close to him but so distant at the same time. So you asked Dean to drive you while Sam was out on a run, not wanting to have to say goodbye to him. Dean took you back to your motel and your belongings, leaving you with nothing more than a “call if you need anything” and his number. You’ve kept in contact with Dean, mostly sending memes and jokes to each other, and doing your best to not ask about his brother. Turns out Dean has a knack for dad jokes, sending you at least one a day, more if he thought you were having a bad day. You’d consider him your best friend, even though he’s really the only person you talk to anymore besides Bobby on occasion. Dean has come a long way from his skepticism when you burst into their lives, considering you like the sister he never had.

Now, four months later, you have run into the brothers again. You’re in a small town in Missouri hunting some vampires, when you spot the Winchesters walking into a diner.

“Hey, tall and taller, got room at your table for one more?” You call out.

The brothers turn around, confused. Dean’s eyes lock onto you first, and he opens his arms for a hug. “Hey, loser, what are you doing here?” He asks.

You jog a few steps, falling into his arms for a few seconds. “Hunting some suckers. Guessing you’re here for the same?”

“Actually yeah, wanna save little Sammy’s ass again like last time?” Dean jokes, his eyes lit up in mirth.

Sam shakes his head, lips pressed together, rolling his eyes. “That was one time, it won’t happen again. And since when are you guys close? You disappeared months ago, Y/N. We haven’t heard from you.”

“Yeah, sorry, I, uh, got called away for something,” you lie, hoping Sam won’t notice and Dean won’t call you out. “Dean and I have kept in touch though.” You playfully hit Dean on the shoulder.

Sam tries not to feel hurt that you have talked to his brother all this time but not him. And you’ve clearly talked enough to get close, Dean doesn’t hug just anyone.

“Well, come on,” Dean says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “I’m starved.”

You all make your way inside, sitting at a booth. The boys sit on opposite sides, and you debate who to sit next to for a moment too long, then you slide in next to Dean. Sam notices your hesitation, but buries his face in the menu.

You all order and eat your meal, sharing stories about all the hunts you’ve had in the last few months.

“No wonder we’ve had it easier recently, Dean. You didn’t tell me Y/N was taking care of so much,” Sam says.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” Dean says, mouth full of pie. “Asshats got ganked, people got saved.”

“Yeah but we could have helped out more.”

“I was fine, Sam. I like keeping busy, remember?” You say, then turn to Dean, “Speaking of, do you know yet where we’re looking here?”

Sam speaks up before Dean can, “actually yeah. We’ve narrowed it down to two warehouses on the outskirts. We’re planning to go check them out after we get a room.”

“Perfect,” you state, looking at Sam. “You boys wanna ride together from the motel since we’re all going to the same place?”

“Sounds good,” Dean says.

You all get up and leave, piling into your cars and going down the street to a motel. The boys get a double room to share like always, you get a neighboring single. You go into your respective rooms to gear up for the hunt.

“What the hell, dude?” Sam says as soon as the door is closed behind Dean.

“What?”

“Y/N is who you’ve been texting all the time? Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asks, clearly hurt.

Dean looks at Sam for a moment before understanding crosses his face. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, huh? Here, you want her number?” He pulls out his phone to pull up her contact and passes it to Sam.

“No, that’s- well, yes, but-“ Sam stumbles over his words.

“Look, it’s not like that with us, Sammy. We’re friends. That’s it.”

“Oh.” Sam lets that sink in and runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah. So relax, she’s all yours. At least, she hasn’t mentioned being with anyone. I’d doubt she had time for it with the constant hunts she’s had. She’s worse than either of us have ever been with needing to keep moving.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sam says, saving her number in his phone and giving Dean’s back to him.

“Well?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“Text her. Say it’s in case we get split up or something. Make up an excuse. Give her your number or I will.” Dean insists.

“Okay, okay, get off my back about it then, yeah?” Sam says. Dean throws his hands up in surrender, turning away to rummage through his duffel.

[Sam 5:55PM : Hey, it’s Sam. Dean gave me your number. Wanted you to have mine just in case]

A full minute passes, and Sam wonders if she will even respond. Then his phone dings with a notification.

[Y/N 5:56PM : Got it. Good thinking. You boys ready?]

[Sam 5:56PM : Yup, meet you at the Impala?]

[Y/N 5:57PM : Sure thing, Sammy Boy ;)]

Well, Sam thinks, I guess the winky face is a good sign? Maybe she does like me?

“You ready, Dean?” Sam asks, heading for the door.

“Let’s do this,” Dean says, grabbing Baby’s keys.

Half an hour later, you’re all sitting in the Impala outside the second warehouse. The first was empty except for rats and dust, no signs of bloodsuckers ever having been there.

“Safe to assume this is it then, huh?” You ask, leaning forward between the boys and looking out the windshield.

“Yeah. We all ready?” Sam asks.

You and Dean respond “yeah.” You all get out of the car, grabbing your machetes and forming a plan. There are three entrances to the building, you will all split up and take one. You’ll meet in the middle, and then go to the upper floors together. You nod at each of the brothers, and you all go your separate ways to enter.

The front door creaks open, and you slowly make your way inside. The day’s last light is filtering in through the windows. You have a flashlight in your back pocket but you’re trying to draw as little attention as possible. You make your way down the hallway, which opens into a large center room. As you come through the doorway, you hear grunts and sounds of fighting from the hallway to your right. That’s the door Sam came in, you think and your heart drops into your stomach when the noises stop but Sam doesn’t emerge. You start toward that hallway, and you’re met with five vamps carrying Sam’s unconscious body. They notice you, drop him, and advance on you before you can move any further.

“Dean!” You yell, starting to fight them off. You can’t keep track of where they all are, you just know that they are surrounding you and landing more hits than you are. Your back, arms, sides, and stomach are all taking hits and you struggle to get the upper hand. You manage to block a few hits and decapitate two of the vamps in quick succession, as you hear Dean’s footsteps thundering closer. That’s when you notice a large vampire standing over Sam.

You fight even harder now, desperate to help the brothers and save Sam. You manage to shove one against a metal pole before cutting its head off in one swing. You kick one in the abdomen, surprising it and knocking it over. You drop to your knees, straddling the vampire’s chest, and swing your machete down on its neck. An arm from the other vamp you’re fighting snakes around your neck, choking you and pulling up into the air. With your body weightless and hanging in the air, you swing an elbow into its sternum and a heel into its knee. It lets go long enough for you to drop, turning as you go to swing out and cut its head off.

With these five dead, you can turn to help the Winchesters. As you run over, the vamp throws Dean a few feet, with Dean landing on his back and sliding across the floor. Jesus, you think, he looks even taller than Sam. You run and launch yourself at the vamp, knocking it back a few steps but not knocking it down. Glancing around the vamp, you can see Sam starting to come back around to consciousness. The vamp manages to grab you by your throat, lifting you into the air. You try slashing into its arm with your machete, but the grip it has on your throat doesn’t let up and you’re starting to see spots.

“Dean,” you manage to rasp out, your machete falling from your hand as you grow weaker,” get Sam and get out of here.”

Suddenly the vamp’s hand goes slack, its head rolling down and onto the floor. You fall to the floor, gasping and coughing for air, your hand on your neck. Sam is standing over the dead vamp, machete in hand.

“You okay, Y/N?” Dean comes up behind you.

You nod, still coughing.

“Sam?” Dean asks.

“I’ll be fine, it was just a good hit on the head.” He kneels in front of you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nod again, “Guess we’re even now, huh, Sammy Boy?”

The boys help you up and out to the car. You all ride back to the motel in silence. Dean is first out of the car and heading toward the rooms, leaving you and Sam behind in the Impala.

“You’ve got some blood on the back of your head,” you say.

Sam’s hand goes to the back of his head, coming back red. “Oh. Huh.”

Another moment passes, then you get out of the car and head to your door. As you’re unlocking it, you realize Sam is standing behind you. You glance over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Would you mind helping me clean it? The blood on my head, I mean. I’m sure you’ll be more gentle than Dean would.”

“Sure, Sam. Come on in.” You open the door and head in. He follows and closes and locks the door behind him, checking the salt lines.

“Have a seat wherever, I’ll grab some supplies,” you say, heading into the bathroom for some warm water and a washcloth.

When you re-enter the bedroom, Sam is sitting on the edge of your bed, looking out of place. You crawl onto the bed behind him on your knees and start cleaning the blood from his hair as gently as you can.

“So, um,” Sam starts, “why did you stay in touch with Dean?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. I just texted him one day and we hit it off. He’s pretty funny.”

Sam’s hums in response. You furrow your brow, “should I not have?"

"No, it's fine, I mean-," Sam stutters, "I just- um, maybe we can keep in touch this time?"

You’re taken aback, and you’re glad you're still behind Sam because you’re opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a moment. “Uh, yeah, Sam. I’d like that.”

“Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“Of course, Sam.”

“Did I do something to upset you last time? At the bunker?” When you don’t immediately answer, he continues, “Because I thought we were getting along and hitting it off and then I came back one morning and you were just gone.”

“No, Sam,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder and moving around so you’re in front of him. “You did nothing wrong. I got called away for something.”

“Okay,” he say, but he looks like he doesn’t believe you. Really, he looks like a kicked puppy and you can’t stand it. Fuck it, you think, I can’t have him thinking he did something wrong and looking at me like this. “Okay, I wasn’t called away. I, um,” you sigh. “Ilikeyouanditscaresme,” you rush out, avoiding eye contact.

A moment passes where nothing is said. You’re still looking away and you bring your thumb to your mouth to chew on the nail. He brings one hand up to pull your hand away from your face, and his other hand rests on your cheek. “Look at me, Y/N.”

You follow his command, meeting those hazel eyes, your heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest. “I like you too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

You put your hand on top of his on your cheek. “Really?”

He nods, smiling and giving you a glimpse at those adorable dimples. He brings his other hand to your cheek, his large hands now framing your face, and he’s looking into your eyes for permission. You nod, and then his lips are on yours. You feel like your brain has short-circuited, and it takes a moment for your lips to move to match his. His tongue licks your lower lip, again asking for permission, and you gladly open up to let him inside. Wow, you think, this is earthshattering.

You both pull away, keeping your foreheads together.

“You’ll have to teach me how to do this,” you say.

He opens his eyes, confused.

“This ‘feelings’ thing,” you explain, “I’ve never really done this before.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll always have your back.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #female reader #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester #mention of castiel #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fic #sam x y/n #pov you #keiththecat

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caker-baker · 2 years

Text

Say Yes

They saw it before the hero answered.

No. A simple word that could shatter the villain entirely if they weren’t quick enough to intercept.

“I see.” They said, rising from their kneeled position and snapping the box shut, the light from the shining ring dying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but we can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The villain asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It isn’t like that!” The hero reached for the villain, but was left stranded when their counterpart stepped back. “It isn’t like that, Villain. I love you, I do.”

“Not enough to say yes.” They shot back, being sure to keep the distance.

It was just, wasn’t it? Of course it couldn’t happen, of course they would say no. A hero and a villain—it would never work.

“I’ll have my things out by tomorrow. We clearly don’t have the same goals anymore.”

“No, no!” The hero began to chase after the villain. “I don’t want your things out, I don’t want you gone!”

“We don’t always get what we want, Hero, if today was any indication.” They shrugged away each time the hero reached out to them.

“Believe me, I do want this, I want you for the rest of my life–”

The villain whipped around, hurt written across their features. “Then say yes!” They laughed. “If I have to beg…goodbye, Hero.”

“I’m not allowed!”

The villain stopped. “Not allowed?”

“To be married. To be in any sort of relationship, actually. I’ve been in breach of contract for the last few years.” The hero wiped away their tears quickly. “The most wonderful years of my life and I couldn’t tell anybody.”

Breach of contract?

The villain wished they could have been confused, but everything made sense, so much sense. All the closed off behaviors in public spaces, the way they shut down if they thought they heard a camera shutter, never visiting friends, even the way they compulsively closed the blinds.

They were going to lose their job as a hero if any sign of a relationship was seen.

“Hero.” they spoke softly, not knowing exactly how to feel.

Anger? Mild betrayal? Apologetic?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to feel like a secret. And if we were married,” They smiled at that, only to lose the feature just as quickly, replaced by mourning. “If we were married, nobody could know. I couldn’t have any big wedding with you, couldn’t invite my friends, family, couldn’t wear that gorgeous ring, and couldn’t legally record it. They have everything on me, all my personal documents, that would include a marriage license.”

This time, the hero succeeded in grabbing the villain’s hands. “I can’t marry you because I will lose everything.”

That mild betrayal roared to life, even as the villain gently caressed the hero’s face. “But me. You would lose everything but me.”

“And if I asked you to give up being a villain, to settle into civilian life, would you?”

They both stayed in their embraced position, still and silent, thinking.

“You’re right.” The villain conceded after a moment. “I’m sorry. Damn a marriage license to hell, Hero, damn a big wedding, damn the ring. Yes, I want to marry you and let the world know that you are my partner as I am yours.”

“Please say but.”

“But none of it really matters, so long as I have you with me.”

The hero let themselves melt into the villain’s arms.

“Alternatively,” they began, voice muffled. “Hypothetically, I mean. Say there were no contract, say any hero business suddenly turned free range, say a hero such as myself wasn’t connected to any organization.”

The villain started to laugh, only to realize that this hero in their arms was serious.

“Are you suggesting villainy? Please say yes.”

“Yes.” They drew themselves up again, staring their love in the eyes. “Yes to everything. Give me that ring. I want the biggest wedding of the century.”

If you like this post, consider buying me a Kofi?

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #villain x hero #heroes and villains #snippet #villainess #writing #heroes #ok boring tags done #so the thing here is and I will go into detail #lost my train of thought hold on #nope it’s gone I’m sorry there was a deeper meaning but it’s gone #bye bye I guess #live ur life freely stupid thought that ran away #Jesus I’ll remember it four posts from now and aggressively type an essay in the tags so it evens out #how’s everyone doing #miss y’all<3 #thank you for the suggestions on what to do with the baked goods #they were put in good hands #made some more cookies today actually #peanut butter and chocolate chip #hey how would y’all feel if I started doing small snippets which rewrote some classic Disney Princess tales #like small short stories of a different perspective of the princesses #a stretch from my normal work so please do (if you’re still reading) let me know how you feel #love you!

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bangtanhoneys · 9 months

Text

Well, the secret's out - Grace

When ARMY got the notification that Grace was going live, the app saw the biggest jump in traffic it had seen in awhile. The news was spread on Twitter, message apps, Tumblr and even TikTok. The reason for the massive buzz was this was the first time Grace would be live after the news of her and Seokjin’s relationship had become public knowledge via BigHit’s confirmation. So many many many fans were wondering if she was going to admit to anything.

“Hello everyone,” Grace grinned as she adjusted the camera. “I’m in the studio right now as you can see. And yes, I promise I’ve been working on my solo stuff. There’s plenty of news coming soon but I just wanted to come and say hello since it’s been a while.”

The trusty mug of tea was ever present and a couple of snacks. Unbeknownst to ARMY, she had been secretly preparing for her tour as well as a special BTS tribute show that no one knew about apart from the artists that had been selected. Even the artists attending didn’t know she was coming. So many exciting things were coming for everyone to enjoy.

“Noona, how are you doing? You look a bit tired,” Grace read one of the comments. “Thanks very much. I promise I am sleeping but I’m just very busy lately. So many exciting things coming for you guys but you have to wait a bit. My time is coming.”

That sent off a spiral of suggestions with the boy's solo careers thrown in the comments as ARMY begged their Noona for a hint. “Ah sorry everyone, you won’t get any spoilers from me. That’s Namjoons job. But I promise I won’t keep you waiting too long.”

She rested her feet against the desk and pulled the screen a bit closer so she could read the comments. With a bowl of fruit in her lap with a hand holding onto the handle of the mug, she looked the perfect picture of unbothered. Completely unaware of what ARMY was asking for or very aware of what they were asking for, but letting them go for it either way.

“News? What news?” she asked, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “Is there news?”

Noona! Stop teasing! We all know now!

Seokjin! Come and collect your girl. She’s teasing us.

Ah she’s learning too much from Yoongi.

A small grin tugged at the corner of her lips but it soon disappeared, replaced by a ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. But it soon went away the moment a name appeared in the comments, causing ARMY and social media to explode.

‘Jagiya, give them what they want. They want all the gossip.’

Jin.

God damn it.

“Shouldn’t you be training?” she asked, ignoring the comment for a moment to play around in her bowl of fruit as if she was trying to find something.

‘I have a spare half an hour to come and torment you.’

“Thanks very much,” she sighed and grabbed a handful of grapes. “Okay fine. Gossip. Yes, the truth is out. Seokjin and I have been in a relationship since 2018. We didn’t know quite how to tell you all, the boys found out a lot earlier obviously, but someone leaked the information that I had gone to Seokjin’s ceremony which is for families only. So we had to come out and give the game up.”

She’s said it in such a matter-of-fact way. Like we should have known from the beginning.

Noona! You can’t just drop that on us like that.

How did the boys know quicker than us? How did they find out?

‘That’s for another night when we’re all drunk and you can handle the R-rated version.’

“Seokjin! You can’t say things like that! You’ll give the wrong idea!”

‘Wrong idea? I think you’ll find I’m quite correct.’

“ARMY, don’t listen to him. Training has gone to his brain,” Grace sighed as she finished off her bowl of fruit and placed it on the desk along with her mug. He was being such a menace and he could do it within the safe confines of his base without any repercussion from her or the management team.

Jinnie we need more!

What happened? What’s going on?

OH MY GOD! R-RATED VERSION!

‘Hyung, you can’t just come in and say things like that. Noona has a reputation to protect. She’s Korea’s noona.’ Jimin.

“Listen, both of you go away. It was me and ARMY’s time. I’m here to listen to their issues and worries, not gossip about my life,” Grace groaned into her hands which then sent another spiral of comments.

But noona, this is important for our health! We need to know more!

When was the first date?

First kiss?

‘First date was at the dorm and first kiss was at the dorm.’

AHHHHH!!!

“Well I don’t need to reveal anything, Seokjin is going to do that for us,” Grace laughed as she threw herself back into her chair as she threw up her arms. “Half an hour better come quickly.”

There was nothing more from Seokjin after that or Jimin, having decided it was better to retreat, so Grace was left alone with ARMY…finally.

“Finally. Anyway, I just wanted to say we were hesitant to reveal anything because we know what the media and everything else is like when it comes to KPop couples so it was trying to find the right time. Of course, anytime we have planned something then something else has happened like COVID, Butter then the military. But of course, we never planned to leave you guys out of it. If anything we wanted you to be included as soon as possible but we all have our insecurities and worries,” Grace explained with a small smile. “But nothing has changed. We’re still Seokjin and Grace, still members of BTS. Still here. Nothing will change.”

What are you planning, noona?

“Many, many things. But now isn’t my time. The boys have so much planned and I can’t wait to see it all. So I want you all to support them first and give everything they do a lot of love like you always do. My time is coming, you just have to be a little patient. But I will see you all, in person, very soon.”

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fic

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faebirdie · 2 years

Text

If Only

Pairing: Jennifer Walters/fem!Reader

Category: slight angst with a happy, fluffy ending

Words: 2,336

Warnings: talk of both reader and Jen’s insecurities, sort of boss/employee relations

Requested: No. I’m so sorry to those of you who do have requests in my inbox. I’ve had so little inspiration to write lately until this randomly hit me.

Summary: Jennifer’s assistant is doing everything she can to keep her very inappropriate crush on her boss under wraps. But she just can’t keep her mouth shut when Jen shows how much the constant attention she’s receiving as She-Hulk rather than Jen is getting to her. Set after episode 5.

A/N’s: The most unrealistic part of this show about superhumans is that supposedly no one wants Jennifer as herself rather than as She-Hulk.

Masterlist and Request Rules

Jennifer Walters is a good boss. A great one even. The best boss you’ve ever had, as a matter of fact. Which really should be a good thing. And it would be if she wasn’t also the sweetest, cutest, and just all around most infatuating woman you had ever had the pleasure of knowing. But she was.

Which has left you with a bit of a dilemma. Because you can’t date your boss. Hell, you shouldn’t even be thinking about her like this at all. You shouldn’t be thinking about how adorable she is in the morning when she first gets into the office and can barely keep her eyes open until she drinks the coffee you always bring her. You shouldn’t be wondering about what else goes through her head while she’s reading over the case briefs you’ve printed for her. And you definitely shouldn’t be daydreaming about how nice it would be to hold her hands, the same hands you can’t pull your eyes away from now as she packs up her briefcase for the night. It’s a wildly inappropriate thing for you to imagine with any coworker much less your actual employer! And most definitely grounds for her to fire you if she were ever to find out.

But you just can’t help yourself. Especially not now, while she’s standing in her true ‘just Jennifer’ form rather than towering over you as ‘She-Hulk’. Moments like these were becoming more commonplace. Moments spent alone, just the two of you in her office after most of the building had already gone home. Jen spent most of her time with you as her green alter ego, whether that be in court or during any other regular business hours in which she was representing the firm rather than herself. She didn’t complain to you about it, but you could tell sometimes that the constant pressure to be someone larger than life could get to her in certain moments. And while you try not to think too much about it, the fact that she feels comfortable enough around you to trust you with her more vulnerable side, it makes your heart flutter and your palms sweat.

“-need to formally file that appeal by the end of the week or we’ll be screwed. Can you be in a few minutes early tomorrow so we can get that started before we need to be in court?” Jennifer’s honey sweet voice breaks through your thoughts just a moment too late.

You do your best to hide the way you’ve been zoned out with a measured nod and a quick hum in agreement even though you aren’t entirely sure what appeal she had been talking about. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

“Ugh. Thank you so much. I hate to ask. You’re already working way longer hours than most of the other assistants in the office. I promise you that we’ll be all settled into things here soon and then we’ll be able to work less overtime. I feel terrible about having to get in the way of whatever you’d rather be doing outside of this damn office,” You force yourself to focus on restacking the mess of paperwork sitting on the desk next to you rather than allow yourself to get sucked into the way Jen’s eyes focus on you as she talks.

Though maybe you hyperfocus too hard because you definitely aren’t thinking about the words that come out of your mouth next, “It’s ok. Honestly, my friends are all either busy with their own jobs or relationships and I haven’t been very into the dating scene lately. No one’s really caught my attention as of late. Well-” you barely catch yourself before taking what was already becoming far too personal of a conversation and moving it into dangerous territory. What are you doing? You can’t be saying any of this! Think! Think! Fix this before she gets uncomfortable. What was almost ‘Well other than you.’ becomes, “Well, other than this girl I know through a friend of mine. But, I don't think I’m her type,” The half truth you tell is probably still pushing it a bit, but at least you hadn’t admitted your schoolgirl crush on Jennifer to Jennifer.

You force yourself to look up from the now perfectly symmetrical stack of papers you’ve been fiddling with to where Jen stands directly on the opposite side of the large desk from you. Instead of finding a judgmental glare pointed at you as you’d feared, you see that she’s no longer looking at you. Jen’s head is turned slightly, staring over your shoulder towards the large windows that make up the back wall. Her warm, hazel eyes are unfocused, clouded over with something you struggle to place.

A moment passes in silence between the two of you before her eyes meet yours once more and she speaks, “I can understand that,” her tone is soft, almost whispered as she continues with a brief chuckle, “I haven’t had much luck in that field as of late either. I don’t think online dating is meant for someone who the world already knows so much about. There’s so many…expectations. Then again, they’re all about She-Hulk. Not Jen.”

Something in the way she says her own name, with a touch of contempt almost, gives the final clue for you to recognize what you had been seeing in her eyes just moments ago. Insecurity. Self doubt. Loathing even. They were all feelings you know well. But ones you can’t handle seeing come from the striking woman standing across from you.

You’ve only been working for Jen for a few short months, but the long hours spent together have allowed you to become incredibly familiar with her. You know her coffee order by heart, could pick her handwriting out of a lineup, and had even met much of her family after dropping some critical documents off at her house when she’d forgotten them at the office. You've seen her sharp mind at work a hundred times but still don’t find yourself getting bored while watching her practice her opening or closing arguments. Her nervous rambling makes you smile and the way her natural curls frizz up after a long day of mussing with them causes your heart to flutter. And that idea that Jen doesn’t see all of this beauty in herself the way you do is heart wrenching. You just can’t stand for it.

“Look, Jennifer, this is probably completely out of bounds for me to say and I know I should just keep my mouth shut but I can’t. So I’m sorry, but you deserve the world. You are smarter than pretty much anyone I have ever known but somehow manage to never make those around you feel dumb or less than. And you work harder than every lawyer on this floor combined. Not for the accolades or the attention but because you genuinely, truly care about making a difference. You’re a good person with a huge heart,” you should stop there. You should really, really stop there but you just can’t. Now that the feelings you’ve been holding back for weeks have started to come out, you just can’t stop the rest. So you continue to express every compliment you’ve thought of about Jen since meeting her, each becoming more definite in tone as you go on, “And my god, Jen! You are so damn cute and funny and sweet while still managing to be hot and intimidating in the best possible way. I’ve been going mad sitting in this office with you every day and not being able to tell you how much I care about you and how I just want you happy no matter what form you are in. I hear you and Nikki talk about these shitty dates you’re going on and it kills me! Because these people you’re seeing are completely ignorant to just how amazing you are and how lucky they are just to sit across from you. And I know I’m ranting but I just can’t sit here and not say anything while you feel anything less than wonderful about yourself. I just want you to see yourself the way I do. To love yourself the way I do.”

You’re breathing hard when you finally finish your outburst. The pump, pump, pump of your heart against your ribcage is nearly painful but only intensifies as what all you’ve just said truly sets in. I’m so fired.

“Y/N I…I-” You can’t even look at Jennifer as she stutters over just a few words, seemingly unable to find any real response to what you’ve just told her.

Oh, god. What have I done? “I’m so sorry. That was completely inappropriate. I’m just gonna go,” You grab your work bag off of the chair next to you and scramble out of the room without looking back.

Please be at work a few minutes early today so that we can talk. - Jen

Jen’s text is the first thing you see after waking up from a fitful night of broken up sleep. The words stare back at you as you run through options of how to move forward in your head. You could call in sick. You could go in early and just pretend as if nothing has happened and ask her about the appeal that needs filing so as to avoid the subject of last night. You could change names and move out of the country so that you never have to risk running into Jennifer ever again.

No. You have to be a big girl about this. You’re an adult and adults own up to their actions and handle the consequences. I wish I was a child again.

So instead of burrowing back under your comforter like you want to, you get up and put the bare minimum into getting ready for the day and at least try to look professional. The subway ride to the office feels like it goes by faster than ever before, giving you little opportunity to ready yourself for walking into Jennifer’s office. It takes you a full minute to sike yourself up before you can finally force yourself to knock on her door.

“Come in,” Even on a morning like this, her voice still sounds like music to your ears. But it doesn’t make pushing open the door and stepping through it any easier.

The roomy office is full of early morning sunlight and just slightly cold. Jennifer is still in her human form when you walk through the door, which surprises you. She normally comes in in her Hulk form and stays that way until the very end of the day. Though you guess that switching between the two forms is a little easier now with her new adaptable suits. Don’t think about how good they look on her.

“Hi,” Jen is the first to speak as you near her desk but you still can’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“Hi,” Your reply is barely audible and filled with shame.

“Will you sit down? Please?”

You comply and make yourself as small as you can in the comfy chair in front of her desk. Your hand taps nervously on your knee as you force yourself to finally look at the woman in front of you. Her expression surprises you. It’s not one of scorn as you’d expected. Instead it’s soft. Nervous even. Her deep hazel eyes hold yours as the two of you look at each other for a moment.

“I talked to Pug this morning when I got in. We discussed having you work for him, instead of me,” Your heart breaks at the statement. Pug’s a nice guy, but he’s not Jen. You drop your head and feel your face heat up as you process what’s just been said. Jen doesn’t want to work with you anymore. Of course she doesn’t. What you said last night had been wildly unprofessional and more likely than not had made her uncomfortable. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to be around you anymore.

“I-I understand. But Jen, I just want to say that I’m so, so sorry. What I said was incredibly inappropriate and I-”

“No!” Jennifer cuts off your apology, “Well, technically yes. It was inappropriate I guess. But, I’m not mad. I’m thrilled actually! I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since your first week on the job. I was just never gonna act on anything because I’m your boss and I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

The force with which you snap your head up to look at her is almost painful. Jen’s cheeks are flushed a soft pink, but you can see a look of hopefulness hiding behind the nerves.

“You’ve been thinking about me? Like the same way I have about you?” This has to be a dream. If you weren’t so focused on her, you might just pinch yourself.

Jennifer’s smile grows at your question. She nods as she answers, “Yes. That’s why I’m transferring you over to work for Pug. Because I really, really want to take you out on a date. But I want it to be above board,” You would laugh at how incredibly on brand that is for Jen if you weren’t so close to crying happy tears.

Her eyes search yours for a response. Before she can find one though, you are leaping out of your chair and racing your way around to her side of the desk to throw your arms around her small frame. You bury your face in her shoulder, unbothered by the way her curls tickle your nose and cheeks. A half sob, half laugh leaves you as you whisper, “I can’t believe it took us this long to figure this out.”

Jen’s arms circle back around you as she laughs at your remark, “I'm just glad we figured it out at all. This is what I’ve been dreaming of.”

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pandenewie · 10 months

Text

20 - Mama I’m in love with a criminal

Prev | Masterlist | Next

It’s funny how quickly rumours and gossip spread in a place like Be Lift High. And with high school relationships typically lasting 3 to 5 business days, it’s no surprise each week when there’s a hot new couple that’s got everyone's attention. Y/n’s not sure why they thought dating Jungwon would be any different.

“Omg, did you see they’re wearing his jacket?”

“They’ve worn it every day this week!”

“I would’ve never put them together, to be honest.”

“What do you mean? It’s like opposites attract.”

Y/n’s no stranger to stares and whispers in the halls, especially when the topic is what they’re wearing. Although this time is less about what they’re wearing and more about who it belongs to.

“Damn, I know Jungwon’s popular and all but I didn’t think people were this interested in his love life.” Hikaru scoffs, tightening her grip on Y/n’s arm as the two walk down the hallway. She would be lying if she said the stares weren’t mildly uncomfortable. “I don’t even know how people found out.” Y/n mumbles. “I blame Riki.” Hikaru scoffs, any excuse to start an argument.

“What did I do?” A voice asks, causing the two friends to turn towards the sound. Expecting to see Niki’s annoying face, they’re surprised to see an unfamiliar blonde instead.

“They weren’t talking about you, idiot.” The girl next to him, who Y/n immediately recognises to be Wonyoung, rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I just heard the name Ricky and assumed it was me.” He laughs. “That’s not even your real name.” Wonyoung mumbles before turning to smile at Y/n.

“Anyway, rumours going around say you and Jungwon are official?” She asks hopefully. Y/n feels their cheeks heat up slightly at all the attention. “I mean… yeah?” They reply sheepishly, causing Wonyoung to squeal in excitement. “That’s so cute! It took him long enough.” She exclaims, shaking the blonde (who is apparently Ricky) a few times for added effect.

“I didn’t know you guys were friends with Jungwon.” Hikaru says, curiously. “Of course we are… we’re on the council together.” Ricky clarifies, with an enthusiastic nod from Wonyoung to back him up. “That makes sense! I honestly couldn’t tell you who’s on the council this year.” Hikaru says, not caring if she upsets their feelings.

“I get that. I’ve been pretty slack as vice president since I was away for most of this semester. And Ricky hasn’t done the best as a fill-in.” She snides, elbowing the boy in the side. “Hey! I told you to pick Youngeun instead of me!” “She’s already the treasurer! You can’t expect her to do everything.” “But Jungwon can?” “You know Jungwon’s different.”

As the two start to bicker back and forth, it suddenly becomes very apparent why Jungwon is the only council member getting things done. President or not, he’s certainly the one who takes his role more seriously.

A sudden weight on Y/n’s shoulder causes them to turn their attention away from the Wonyoung vs Ricky argument and towards the sudden presence on their other side. Y/n’s eyes meet with Jungwon’s as he sends them a dimpled smile, using the arm around their shoulder to gently pull them into a side hug.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, ending the argument with just a few simple words. Everyone turns their attention towards Jungwon, now aware of his presence. “Oh, hi Jungwon.” Wonyoung waves, pulling her arms away from their position around Ricky’s neck (she wasn’t going to actually choke him, she swears.) “Sup Prez.” Ricky coughs slightly, raising his eyebrows towards Jungwon.

“We were just asking Y/n about your relationship since you’re keeping all the juicy details to yourself.” Wonyoung teases, causing Jungwon to laugh slightly. “Well not to burst your bubble, but I doubt you’ll get anything out of Y/n.” He says, squeezing their shoulders slightly as if to emphasise the point.

“Now Hikaru, do you mind if I steal Y/n for a bit? I promise you’ll get them back by lunch.” Jungwon asks, causing Hikaru to scoff. “Oh please take them for as long as you need. No returns.” She says, removing her arm from Y/n’s and pushing them towards Jungwon. “My heart.” Y/n fake cries. “Go hang out with your boyfriend, I’m gonna find Hiyyih and Eunchae.” Hikaru winks, waving goodbye. Wonyoung and Ricky decide to leave as well, mumbling something about continuing their argument away from the president.

“Are those two always so…” “Yeah.” Jungwon sighs, already knowing what Y/n was going to say. “They’re kinda like Hikaru and Niki. Pretend to hate each other and yet for some reason, they’re always hanging out.” He continues, causing Y/n to laugh slightly. “We’ve still got a bit of time before class starts. Let’s go somewhere where people are less nosy.” Jungwon says, causing Y/n to just nod and follow along. They’re not used to Jungwon being so confident and assertive, especially around them, where he’s usually awkward and shy. This new side of him is certainly one they could get used to.

The pair soon find themselves in the library, their go-to spot now that the toilets are being renovated. Once safely inside and out of view of teachers, Jungwon leans against one of the bookshelves, careful not to knock anything over. Y/n quickly slips off Jungwon’s jacket, revealing their outfit for the day.

“You’re kidding.” Jungwon laughs, attempting to hide his pinkening cheeks behind his hands. Y/n giggles slightly at his reaction, moving to stand between his legs before carefully removing his hands from his face. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my outfit?” They ask, trying to stop the smile from spreading across their face at Jungwon’s nervous expression. “I don’t think it counts as a shirt if you can see through it.” He mumbles, releasing one hand from Y/n’s grip to gently pull on the sheer top. “I have a singlet on.” Y/n defends. Jungwon rolls his eyes at this, knowing Y/n’s just arguing for the sake of it.

“It’s cute.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s waist and pulling them further into his chest. “You’re cute.” Y/n retaliates, a sense of pride washing through their body at the sight of Jungwon’s cheeks visibly burning up. Y/n bites their lip to stop their smile from growing further as Jungwon buries his head in the crook of their neck. “What happened to the confident Jungwon with Wonyoung and Ricky, huh?” Y/n asks, gently running their fingers through his hair. “You make me nervous.” Jungwon mumbles. “That’s a shame.” Y/n sighs. “President Jungwon’s pretty hot.”

Y/n’s words cause Jungwon to let out a groan as he attempts to hide even further into their neck. “You’re gonna kill me.” He mumbles against the skin, making sure to sneak a quick kiss that he hopes isn’t noticeable. It is. But Y/n doesn’t bother to point it out, since Jungwon is practically melting at this point.

Y/n’s eyes flicker to the clock that hangs on the far wall of the library, signalling that class will start in a few minutes. “I don’t wanna go to class.” They sigh, tightening their arms around Jungwon’s neck. “Skipping is bad.” Jungwon murmurs, despite making no move to get to class either. “You know we could just stay here…” Y/n trails off, pressing a kiss against the crown of Jungwon’s head. The sudden affection causes him to pop out of his hiding place, eyeing Y/n suspiciously.

“Tempting…” He says, his eyes falling to Y/n’s lips. “But we can’t.” He continues, standing up straight and pulling almost completely away from Y/n - expect his hands, which stay resting gently against their waist. The distance doesn’t last long, however, as Y/n quickly pulls Jungwon back into their personal bubble. “You’re no fun.” Y/n pouts, reaching up to run their fingers through his hair.

“Not sure what your idea of fun is.” Jungwon sighs, closing his eyes slightly at the relaxing touch of Y/n’s fingers. A surprise tug at his strands causes Jungwon to yelp, opening his eyes to look down at Y/n. They’re a lot closer than they were a second ago and Jungwon lets out another sigh at the realisation that his first escape attempt came up unsuccessful. “This is fun, isn’t it?” Y/n asks, leaning forward to press a quick peck against Jungwon’s lips. So quick, that he barely even registered the contact until it was too late.

The bell rings for the start of class, but neither Y/n nor Jungwon move an inch. "You're gonna be late~" Y/n teases in a sing-song voice, giving Jungwon another quick peck. "So are you~" Jungwon mimics, repeating the same action.

It's a standoff at this point, who can get the other to give in first? Y/n knows the likelihood of them winning this is high - considering the fact that Jungwon will do just about anything they tell him to.

They're about to lean forward to press another kiss against his lips when a sudden gasp causes them to freeze.

"Y/n, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in class!"

Both students turn to see the school librarian looking at them disappointed. Y/n chooses to ignore the blatant favouritism and reluctantly pulls away from Jungwon. "Sorry ma'am, I was about to go." They reply, slipping Jungwon's jacket back over their shoulders. "Well hurry along, you're probably holding poor Jungwon up. He has so much work to do, that boy."

Y/n rolls their eyes at the double standards before turning their attention back to Jungwon. "I'll text you later." They say, subtly squeezing his hand before allowing the librarian to walk them out.

Jungwon sighs before the realisation hits that he should be in class, too. His eyes widen as he quickly slings his bag over his shoulder, pulling out his phone to double-check that he’s not too red before rushing out of the library.

TAG LIST (closed): @kang-yeosangs-initials @kpopstanmeg @b1ndignity @soobiverse @dudufodd @mikadorbs @pagesofmiracles @tya0 @ilovewonyo @bringer-ofchaos @huening-ly @ifearjwn @callmeblondie @run2min @straykids-riley (can't tag) @rikimylove @chaechae-23 @lacimolela @n1ght-maring (can't tag) @luvvsjungwonn @yenqa @tzuyusluv @viyqe @vocaloshin @deadgirlwalking3 @flamiricky @hanniesss @grayscorner @wonqr @neozon3nha @beomgyusonlywife @ahnneyong @lani-heart @jayujus @str4wb3rizz @yunwonie @jeonncafe @danielleismyname @spilled-coffee-cup @jaylans-stuff @oceanmsxoxo @j-wyoung

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jxsterr · 5 months

Note

bro your account is literally perfect. one of the best zelink ones i’ve ever seen and i think your interpretation of them is perfect!! what’s your opinion on t4t zelink?

YOURE SO SWEET WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭😭 thank you omg that’s the sweetest ask ive ever gotten

as for opinions?? my opinion is yes. why wouldn’t they. it’s the most delicious hc out there and it does wonders at weeding out the weird fans

i haven’t honestly thought about it much because i enjoy it in passing but i’m definitely for ftm link with his funky new zonai post transition scars bc that’s SICK and he deserves at least one scar that isn’t the worst thing ever. zelda?? honest to god with all of the trauma she’s been through and all of the disconnect within herself i’d say like a nonbinary she/her if ygm?? an occasional she/they if she feels like it?? like the pronouns are just the equivalent of cosplaying a girl bc zelda’s been jumbled up so violently from everything that’s happened to her—from everything pre calamity with her father and her powers, her lack of self identity because she wasn’t allowed to present herself how she pleased when everything rested on her shoulders, trying to find herself Post calamity and figure out what she’s meant to do or even Be now that her one true purpose had been completed, and then the whole thing of being turned into a DRAGON and back—you cannot tell me she isn’t like scrambled egg on the inside.

link feels like the kinda guy to be like “idk i had tits and now i don’t” shrug whereas zelda has this 5 paged essay on everything that lead up to her identity LMFAO

because she’s so interesting to me right. i feel like she’d just kinda leave herself alone bc she’s been through enough without anything else on top, but i feel if she was to get anything done it’d just be top surgery so she could feel more In Control of her appearance?? and that’d be it?? bc dresses with boobs would have her a little :/ because they’re Okay she supposes but the dress Could look nicer without them, so link would sit there and help her bandage them down to see how she’d feel about it (also because he has an ungodly supply of bandages) and then watching something Click inside of her and who better to do such a task than purah???

(link stresses about it for the next 3-5 business days)

cuz i’m still big on zelda wearing a lot more neutral clothing purely bc we saw that her preferred way of dressing was her travel clothes right, and she’s always seemed more of a trousers gal than anything, so i can’t get into the idea of her purely wearing dresses post calam and totk like some people have bc every dress she’s worn. right. has had an air of Ambiguity around it. i think especially her prayer dress and zonai dress but i think that’s because of the total absence of straps or sleeves to them, so i feel like she’d wear dresses like that just for comfort but for any others?? boobs gotta go im sorry it’s just how it is

i’m also a huge fan of link being the more like. Seasoned of the two about transitioning and whatnot because obviously he would’ve had a lot more room to explore this sort of thing (esp with how little she could do w rhoam lord have mercy). so every question she’d have she’d go running to him for once instead of the books and Then him

“pardon me if i’m being intrusive, but was the surgery.. painful?”

“nah. not too bad. purah numbed me”

“you let.. purah..????”

she’d be stood in front of a mirror in their house and squinting at her own reflection, asking, “something feels wrong. i can’t tell what it is, but something feels misplaced on me.” and link peers over to have a look and he’s absolutely mystified because she’s literally gorgeous there isn’t a damn thing wrong with her—and then she starts focusing on her chest, looking at it from the side, squishing it down with scrutinising eyes to see if they’d look better flat and ah. it makes sense now. so, as i said earlier, he helps her bind, makes sure it isn’t too tight and always keeps an eye on how long she’s been wearing it (she is horribly forgetful after all), lets her comb through his ridiculously extensive wardrobe to see what pieces fit where and how to figure out how she wants her clothes to fit, then taking her down to sayge to retailor some old clothes he doesn’t mind her having once they figure it out, helping her figure out the terms and pronouns she’s comfortable with, just the most useful and best supporter you could ever ask for in the beginning of your transition.

I REALISE IVE RAMBLED OOPS but hey maybe when i get through the ridiculous backlog of fics i have i’ll do a little oneshot about this cuz it’s CUTE and so full of zelink potential

tldr. zelda’s this fuckin. she/they ass nb with a complex relationship with gender and her presentation and then link is just. a Guy. in the least straight way possible. he’s simple

i appreciate u sm for making me think about this more……: my little blorbos…

#jez asks #you wouldve thought me being nonbinary myself #that i wouldve thought more about this huh #zelink #legend of zelda #loz link #loz zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda and link #princess zelda #link #zelda tears of the kingdom #zelda x link #t4t zelink #headcanon

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gleefulpoppet · 4 months

Note

For the prompt game: 6 - 8 - 27. Coffee shop - exes - “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

For this ask/prompt game [X]

Kurt sits at a small table near the window of the bustling coffee shop, engrossed in a book, enjoying the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a rare lunch break from his unbelievably stressful job. Unbeknownst to him, a stranger walked in and took a seat at the counter having an incredibly difficult time keeping his eyes to himself; his thoughts running wild: Damn, if that man isn’t the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen! Be still my heart! Is he reading about Gene Kelly?

As Kurt turned a page, he looked up, met the man’s gaze, and smiled when the other man looked flustered and blushed, biting his lip shyly but didn’t look away. Kurt could swear he was saying, “Hi. How’s your morning?” with his eyes alone, and when he nodded at Kurt with that head of perfect curls, Kurt took it as confirmation that was precisely what he was asking. So he said, “Hi. I’m doing well. Come here often?” with his own, adding an infinitesimal wink, and felt a blush race against his cheeks.

The bell chimed, and they both looked toward the door. Kurt’s heart dreadfully skipped a beat when he spotted his ex-sort of-boyfriend, Fisher, entering the coffee shop. Of course! Of course, he’d show up now! Panic set in as he realized Fisher hadn’t seen him yet. Desperate to avoid an encounter, Kurt frantically looked around, searching for an escape route. Damn! Fisher was headed for him. He looked back at Blaine, who scrunched his eyes in concern, clearly picking up on Kurt’s distress. “He’s a jerk! You wanna help me here?” Kurt said with his eyes and a slight shake of his head, having absolutely no idea what he meant by that or how he thought a stranger could help.

“Kurt,” Fisher sneered much too loudly, towering over him. “Shocking. You’re not working?”

“You smell like desperation,” Kurt says as calmly as he can, turning a page in his book he hasn’t read.

“What the hell is your problem? What? We can’t even be civil in a coffee shop?”

Kurt’s head snaps up. “Civil?”

“Hello, love,” The stranger says, kissing Kurt on the top of his head and squeezing his hand. As he moves a chair closer, he says, “They were out of your favorite, so I ordered our backup.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says wide-eyed. He should be surprised by the whole interaction, but mostly, he’s wondering how his entire body can tingle from a stranger kissing his head and brushing his fingertips over his hand.

The stranger looks over at the man who is seething at him. “Hey! I’m Blaine. And you are?” He offers his hand.

“Fisher.” He shakes it, gripping Blaine’s hand, not in a friendly way.

“Ah! Fisher. That explains a lot.” Blaine laughs and shakes his head. “Quite a grip you have there. Trying to prove something?” He asks as he finally sits down, his shoulder touching Kurt’s and intertwining their hands.

Fisher huffs. “Since when have you two been together?”

“Can’t figure how that is any of your business. Unless…” Blaine turns to Kurt. “Is it any of his business?”

“Absolutely not, honey.”

“Thought not.” He kisses Kurt’s cheek and then looks up. “Can we help you? You’re blocking the precious sunshine.”

Fisher studies them, scrutinizing their hands.

“I’m not going to tell you again to leave me alone,” Kurt says.

“Kurt! I said I was sorry. I don’t understand why you’re being such an ass about all this.”

“Sorry?” Kurt laughs in disbelief. “Like that changes anything about the way you treat me.” He huffs an exhausted sigh and instinctually turns toward Blaine, getting lost in the warm, golden-brown hues that seem to hold a universe of emotions, creating an irresistible magnetic pull. Kurt is sure it would take a lifetime—maybe more—to explore the profound depth of Blaine’s soul staring back at him. He realizes he’s leaning forward, and his eyes dart to Blaine’s lips and then back up again. “Blaine…”

Blaine’s hand, not holding Kurt’s, reaches up to cradle his jaw, brushes his thumb over his cheek a few times, and nods, telling Kurt with his eyes, I feel it, too. “Want to go somewhere else where there isn’t a dark cloud hanging over us, and you can tell me all about your book?”

“Yeah.” Kurt nods and then gasps, surprised when Blaine leans over and gives him a peck on the lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.” He leans in and kisses Blaine again, grins spreading across their faces. Without a word, they’re standing, still holding hands.

“Disgusting saps,” Fisher growls and turns on his heel to order his coffee.

“That,” he tilts his head toward Fisher as they walk out, “was a very bad idea. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend!”

Blaine chuckles as he opens the door for Kurt. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Before you have to ask, he was one of those blind date situations. Perfect gentleman. Wined and dined me for a few weeks. And then… Well, his true colors showed up all too soon, and he didn’t take it well that I wanted nothing to do with him.”

“Ugh. I dislike him more by the second.”

“Good. That’s good. It should be a nice oozing loathing soon.”

Blaine laughs and squeezes Kurt’s hand.

“Thank you,” Kurt says. “You know, for all that back there.”

“Mmm...” Blaine simply hums and then looks at him with a mischievous grin, bumping into his shoulder. “Where are we going?”

“I have no idea. I thought maybe you knew.”

“Not a clue,” Blaine teases. “I only know I’m not ready to let go of your hand.”

“Well, that’s good because I’m pretty sure I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

Blaine beams and notices how the sunshine feels as warm as his heart.

#thank you so much for the prompt ask!#should I put these on ao3?#I feel like stuff gets lost on Tumblr #gleefulpoppet writes #i wrote some of these in notepad on the plane so they are a hot mess #working on cleaning them up to post them #loved writing this 'trope'#sometimes it's fun to write the classics #also enjoy all the mixed tenses—no rules here lol

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bobgasm · 5 months

Text

kingpin ⦾ four

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x ofc!emery young word count: 2971 warnings: grumpy suppliers, secrets, a fateful meeting

summary: in which they finally meet

author’s note: this is the part where i threw out my original outline 🫠

three | kingpin | five

Bob ran his hand through his hair as Lenny, one of the Feathers’ main alcohol suppliers, ranted in his ear. He was in half a mind to end the call and send him an email explaining the issue, but he knew that would anger him further.

“Lenny, I understand the situation we’ve put you in and I’m sorry,” Bob apologised. “Our accounting software apparently ran an update at the time of the transfer of our bill file, but I’m working with Decker to get your bill paid ASAP.”

He lied through his teeth like it was second nature, and to him, it definitely was. He barely needed to think before he spoke, the words coming out before he even had time to make sense of them. Luckily, he’d already figured out how to make a manual payment, so he was in the process of loading all missed bills into the system to be paid.

“If you aren’t paid by 5pm then please let me know and I’ll personally transfer you the balance that Feathers owes you,” Bob continued. “That’s the best I can do for you right now.”

Lenny grunted in acknowledgement. “If this happens again, you’ll be losing our business.”

“We both know you can’t afford to lose our business,” Bob replied firmly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Let me get back to work.”

Lenny hung up, disgruntled by Bob’s words, and Bob exhaled heavily. Part of him wanted to leave Lenny’s bill unpaid purely so he had a reason to knock some sense into him, but he knew Morgan would be ropeable if Feathers or Dice had no alcohol delivery next week.

He created a new bill in the system and checked it against the invoice he’d found, entering the amount owed before selecting the due date as today. He did that for the next thirty odd invoices he had before logging into the business bank accounts and approving the payments. It’d take a couple of hours for them to be approved by the bank, but he wasn’t worried.

What he was worried about was that Halo had been organising interviews all week, which had interfered with him learning how to pay the damned bills. He was pissed at Decker for leaving them high and dry. Decker had to have known he was planning on retiring, so why hadn’t he said anything? Now Bob felt like he was scrambling and he hated being made a fool of.

It didn’t help that his father was breathing down his back about updates, because he had also been tasked with tracking the almost seventy year old down. Richard still didn’t want to bring Coyote in, even though his tracking skills and connections were phenomenal. Bob was stretched thin trying to keep everything in order, but he knew it was only a matter of time before word got out about Decker. He was hoping it was sooner rather than later.

Bob sat up a little straighter when there was a knock at his office door. “Come in,” he told them, gathering all the papers on his desk into one near pile.

He looked up to see Halo open the door with a coffee for him. “Thought you might need this,” she said with a smile, walking towards him and placing the mug on his desk.

Halo, also known as Callie Bassett, was Bob’s assistant. She’d been hired a few years ago to help keep everything in order, helping make sure all the businesses that the Floyd’s owned ran smoothly. She worked closely with both of the Floyd siblings, who managed their own respective areas. Morgan ran Feathers, a strip club, and Dice, which was a casino in Downtown LA. Bob handled the construction company, which was in the midst of building a hotel on a plot of land they’d acquired recently.

“I do, thank you,” he replied gratefully. “Have any more applications come through?”

“One late last night that looks promising,” she replied. “I haven’t had a chance to call her yet because I’ve been trying to pacify disgruntled suppliers.”

Bob ran a hand over his face. “I’ve just sent the final payments through. They should all be paid by the end of the day.”

Halo nodded. “I’ll pass the information along,” she told him. “I don’t want to add more to your plate, but I’m afraid that wages are due tomorrow.”

“Fucking hell,” Bob cursed. “I appreciate it, Halo. See if you can get in contact with the person who applied last night. I need someone doing this, like, yesterday.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

She left without another word, his office door clicking shut behind her. Bob had no fucking idea how to sort the wages out. He knew it was likely a similar process, but he had timesheets to collate and figure out what everyone’s hourly rate was. It was going to be a long night, he knew that for sure.

Calls kept coming in throughout the day from suppliers who hadn’t been paid, but Halo had it handled. Unless they were truly belligerent, Bob was left to try and figure out the payroll system. It operated similarly to the system used for invoicing and bills, but had all the employees’ information already loaded. He copied the previous fortnight’s template for each employee, paired it up with their timesheet for hours worked, and then processed them to be paid tomorrow.

Halo interrupted him once to deliver lunch which he was grateful for. Bob practically inhaled the sandwich while fielding calls from Coyote about the ongoing investigation with Garcia. Mickey Garcia was a local cop who was on their payroll, but while the police ran their investigation about his suspected dealings with the Floyd’s, all of his salary was paid in cash. Coyote was trying to find out what the holdup was with the transfer so he could hand it over to Garcia later, which only stressed Bob out further.

He had no idea how Decker handled everything. He’d made his job look easy enough that any man off the street could do it. As Bob was finding out, that wasn’t the case at all. He felt like he was at his wits’ end, so he paid Coyote from his own account so he could make the withdrawal for Garcia. He’d figure out the proper way to go about paying their more illegitimate contractors later. For now, this was the only solution he had.

Halo stopped in once more before she left, telling Bob that she’d managed to get in touch with Emery, the person who’d applied for the job late last night, and organised an interview with them in the morning. It was set for ten, in case he was staying later than anticipated. Bob appreciated the thought and wished her a goodnight, getting up to make himself a coffee and finding Coyote sitting at the table in the kitchenette.

“You pay Garcia alright?” Bob asked.

“He’s happy,” Coyote replied, leaning back in his chair as he stared at the younger man he called his boss. “Where’s Decker?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Bob replied. “Anyone else here?”

Coyote shook his head. “Only me,” he replied. “Halo just left.”

“My office,” Bob told him, coffee long forgotten about. Leading the way back to his office and closing the door behind them. “Richard doesn’t want anyone to know this, but Decker’s gone. Retired early Monday morning.”

“That’s what the phone call was about?” Coyote wondered aloud. Bob nodded briefly. “Why doesn’t he want anyone to know?”

“Until we can talk to him and find out why his retirement wasn’t discussed, or a replacement brought in, it leaves us vulnerable. Richard expects me to hire a replacement, keep things ticking over smoothly, and track down Decker. None of which is easy,” Bob explained. “I’m only telling you because I’m spread thin. I need you to track him down discreetly. Offer your contacts up to 50 large if you trust it’ll buy their silence. I need him found.”

“Do you have any leads?” Coyote asked.

“I haven’t had much free time to even start,” Bob confessed. “You’re my right hand. I should’ve brought you in on this earlier.”

“I’m in now,” Coyote told him. “I’ll stop by his place and see if I can find anything. Chances are he cleaned it, but I’ll reach out to Maverick and Ice, see if they can check the airports and docks for any footage or comb through passenger manifests.”

Bob nodded, bringing Decker’s disappearance to Maverick and Ice would help exponentially. They had buddies located at every possible exit out of the country, so if anyone could find Decker, it was them.

“Good, keep me updated. Don’t tell them who he is or why we need to find him,” Bob reminded him. “Say it’s come straight from Richard Floyd. His name still strikes fear in those men, so they won’t go to him with any information.”

“I’m on it, boss,” Coyote told him.

Bob knew he could trust him, it was Maverick he was worried about. He had a tendency to go out on his own and try to solve problems by himself, but tended to make things worse. Ice always managed to smooth things over, but if the shit hit the fan with this, Maverick would breathe his last breath.

“Keep Mav on a tight leash,” he added. “We need Decker alive.”

Coyote nodded once in confirmation. “What about the rest of it? Any luck finding a replacement?”

Bob hummed. “Too old, they know better. They’d rat us out the second they got a whiff of anything remotely illegal,” he said. “Halo organised another interview tomorrow, so we’ll see how that goes. Need ‘em young enough to mold them into the kind of accountant we need, desperate enough that this is the best offer they’ll get.”

“Smart,” Coyote agreed. “Hook ‘em in until they’d be buried with us if they even thought about taking a deal.”

Bob smirked at the praise. “Find me Decker. I’m going home.”

Bob was back in the office bright and early. He still had a bunch of wages to finalise before sending them off to be approved, but he’d needed sleep. The longer he stared at the screen of his computer, the more jumbled everything became. He was confusing himself and growing frustrated, so he’d called it a night. Grateful that Coyote was handling one of his problems so he could focus on other areas.

Halo arrived shortly after eight with a breakfast sandwich she dropped off for him and a piping hot latte, exactly how he liked it. He polished off the breakfast sandwich before finishing up the last few employees wages in the payroll system. When he finished, he sipped his coffee and exported the wage file to the bank accounts responsible for their businesses. Double checking each employee was paid from the right account before clicking approve and rubbing his hands over his face.

He didn’t know how some people enjoyed this kind of work. It was tedious and repetitive and he was sick to death of staring at his computer. Standing up from his desk, he stretched his arms above his head before bending forward and trying to touch his toes.

A knock at his door saw him straightening up and clearing his throat as he ran his hand down the front of his shirt. “Come in,” he said, fixing his tie as the door opened.

“Hi, Mr Floyd, I’m Emery Young. I’m here for an interview?” The woman asked.

Bob took a second to look at her. She was young, sure, and not just by name. She had bright honey-coloured eyes and her thick hair framed her face in loose waves. She was dressed the part, with a cream blouse and black slacks that hugged her hips and thighs, and Bob knew her ass likely looked just as amazing in them.

“Of course, Ms. Young,” Bob greeted. “Please take a seat.”

Emery closed the door before sitting down in one of the chairs Bob had gestured to, and he got comfortable in his own chair. Halo had printed off a copy of Emery’s résumé and Bob reached for it. He wished he’d had the chance to have a look through it before she’d arrived, but he’d clearly lost track of time.

“Thank you for coming in,” he told her, briefly glancing up to see her fold her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m usually a little more organised than this.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him with a tight smile.

“It says here you’re currently employed as a housekeeper?” Bob asked, eyes scanning her résumé with skeptical curiosity. When he looked back up at her she nodded in acknowledgement.

“I am,” she said. “I’ve been trying to find an accounting job for almost a year in my hometown, but there’s not a lot on offer. I have to pay the bills somehow, you know?”

Bob chuckled lightly. “I do,” he agreed. “Do you know much about the construction industry?”

“No,” Emery replied truthfully. “From my understanding, you need an accountant, not a builder.”

“You’re right.” Bob chuckled again. “Are you local?”

“I currently live a couple hours away, but I’m in the process of moving out here,” she told him. “More job opportunities in bigger cities.”

Bob had to agree. “Tell me a bit more about yourself,” he prompted, letting the papers rest on his desk while he leant back in his chair.

Emery cleared her throat and sat up a little bit straighter, opting to place one hand on top of the back of her other instead of wringing her fingers together. “I put myself through college by working two jobs. I know I’m young and don’t have a lot of practice as some of the other candidates who’ve applied probably do, but I’m hardworking, driven and reliable.”

“I manage the construction business, but my family also owns a few others around town. The role wouldn’t be solely for Floyd Construction, but also for Feathers and Dice,” Bob informed her. “Some of the work would be time consuming. Do you have any other commitments that could possibly affect the odd late night?”

“As opposed to cleaning toilets, which is soul crushing?” Emery joked. It surprised Bob, but he found himself laughing anyway. “I have excellent time management skills and can easily prioritise whichever jobs to complete first. As for other commitments, no, though I’d argue that I’m pretty efficient with my work. I don’t like staying late.”

Bob hummed as he mulled her answer over. So far, her answers stood out to him more than the other candidates. She was willing to make the move to a new place for work, which meant he likely had her nibbling at the baited hook dangling in front of her. He needed something to make her bite, letting him know that she was truly hooked.

“Are you familiar with the Wiler accounting system at all?” Bob asked, which was the system he’d been battling with all week to try and pay bills and employees.

“I am.” Emery responded with a firm nod.

“What about their payroll system?”

Emery cocked her head to the side. “Do you not have a payroll officer?”

“Our previous accountant handled any and all monetary transactions,” Bob replied honestly.

“Can I ask why they left?” She asked, curiosity laced in her tone. There was something in her eyes and the way she’d set her jaw that piqued Bob’s interest, though he wasn’t sure what it was. None of the other applicants had taken on the kind of tone or posture that she had.

Bob steeled his gaze, locking his eyes with hers. “He retired,” he told her truthfully. “It came as a shock to us all.”

Bob thought Emery seemed pleased with the answer as she nodded her head. “So, I’m right in assuming you need someone to start as soon as possible, then?”

“You are,” he replied. “If you were successful, when could you start?”

“Two weeks,” she answered. “I’d have to hand my notice in, and find a place to live.”

Bob stored the information away. “Do you have any further questions for me?”

“I do,” Emery replied. “What are the benefits you can offer me?”

“Other than a better paying job than cleaning toilets?” Bob replied, watching the corner of her mouth twitch as she tried to suppress a smile. “Off the top of my head, healthcare, dental, and a new car.”

“The advertisement said there was the ability to partially work from home,” she said. “Would a computer be supplied and a stipulated cost toward my electric and wifi bill be covered?”

“It would be reviewed once the trial period is over and an amendment to the original contract has been signed.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr Floyd,” Emery said, rising to her feet. She offered a hand to Bob and he rose slowly to shake it, unsure exactly of the outcome of the interview. Was she happy with what they could offer, or was she politely declining? Either way, he would think about it over the weekend, so far, she was a shoo-in.

“And you, Ms Young,” he replied.

He enjoyed watching her turn around and showcase exactly how good he knew those slacks would make her ass look. The door clicked shut behind her and he blew out a breath, deciding to give her a minute to leave before he spoke with Halo.

When he was sure she was gone, he opened the door to his office and leant against the doorframe. “Can you write up a letter of offer for Ms Young before Monday morning?”

“I’ll have it for you by nine,” she replied.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fic #mob!au #mob!bob fooyd

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morvantmortuary · 7 months

Text

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

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