#kevin reader insert

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny!!! can i submit a request for kevin magnussen? something like a mafia!au where he’s big and scary except for when he’s with reader?💞

kevin magnussen

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!kevin, size difference/kink, doggy style, protective!kevin, reader doesn't know he's mafia, creepy men, mentions of blood and violence, body worship

thank you lovely anon for this idea! i know i usually get bakery submissions, but i do accept other ideas you might have! so this was a pleasant surprise in my inbox!

coming to copenhagen wasn't on your bucket list of dreams. while it was for some, you only took the job because the hours were better. and after a nasty break up only a few months prior, it felt like a good idea to be in another part of the globe. while you missed family, there was something about the unknown that made you pack your belongings (and cat) and head to denmark.

you knew living abroad would have its risks. they were put to rest when you met a tattooed gentleman with the kindest eyes. his name was kevin, kevin magnussen

kevin was an interesting man. you had met him after a blind date fell through and he was at a nearby table by himself. he was waiting for 'friends', but didn't mind spending some time with you. before his 'friends' arrived he ordered you some dessert for after your meal.

he also slipped you a business card and said, "if you need anything in this city, let me know." then smiled at you. the address on the card led to a mechanics shop and kevin told you he owned and "worked" here, but you never saw too many cars come through.

but any questions were met with smiles and promises. you felt a little safer in the city when you were kevin. you one time asked him, "it seems like everyone looks at you when we walk together. or maybe i'm just imagining things."

even though you became accustomed to the public transport of the city. kevin was more than happy to pick you up or drop you off even places like the grocery store. you didn't want to think about all the times he bought you groceries. one time he made you grab another pack of salmon and not to look at the cost. he told you that you can freeze it for a few months. your throat tightened when you saw the price at the check out. but kevin simply paid without a second glance.

maybe you were used to people in your country being paid pennies. you chalked everything up to better wages in denmark.

  “you don't have to pay for things, kevin! really, this job i do pays well enough.” you held onto the front of his zip-up jacket as he carried your groceries back to your apartment. you still didn't know what he saw in you. but, if you couldn't give him the money back, then you'd simply have to keep him smiling. not that it was hard, even your worst jokes made him laugh and wrap his arms around you.

kevin seemed weird, but you found it endearing. when he was all smiles with you, in front of the family he was serious. he could be cold, methodic, dangerous. the light that he brought into your world were the same as the shadows he put into the underbelly of the city. people looked when you went down the street, because it wasn't very often to see him out on the streets. especially with someone so…. cute. 

but, there was something that lingered inside of the danish man you met. kevin saw it with his own two eyes when he entered the bar to meet with you one night. he saw a man at your table trying to chat you up. even with your back turned to kevin, he knew you were uncomfortable. nobody liked unwanted sexual advances.

but you weren't budging giving this man an inch, instead waving him off and eventually he took the cue to leave. but not before he touched you at the small of your back which made you lean away from him in disgust.

kevin saw your mouth move and then take a sip of your drink. at least kevin knew that you could stand up for yourself a little bit. at least enough to get this creep to go away.

eventually he did and when he walked away, kevin followed. no one was touching his girl. you were your own woman of course, you did as you pleased with kevin's support. but, most of the city should've know by now. you were under magnussen protection.

you were too occupied with your drink when the man left for you to notice that kevin had saw the entire thing. and instead of meeting you at your table, he followed the man in the washroom.

kevin wasn't the mechanic he told you he was. the tattoos weren't just from the lifestyle of fixing cars. they all meant something, his past, present and future. his family. his life. the head of an important family in the country. he rolled up his sleeves and the man who was flirting with you noticed him.

"almost done, man." he said as he turned off the tap and shook his hands to dry them. kevin crossed the small bathroom and instantly his fist was in the other man's face. causing him to sprawl out on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

kevin got on one knee down to the other man's level. he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "don't, don't, don't yell." he pulled the bloodied man a little closer, his nose obviously broken, "you're going to leave this place. and you're not going to come back. you do not touch a woman without her permission."

"but i-"

"shh, shh, shh. i saw what you clipped to the back of her pants. a tracker? gps? going to follow her home? kidnap her? sell her? answer me." his voice was firm.

the man looked shaken and bleeding, he was trembling like a leaf at the end of fall. kevin was dangerously close, but didn't want to get blood all over himself. he didn't want you to worry.

"keep yourself out of here. if you don't. not even your dental records will be able to identify you. and if you want a date so badly, stop being a fucking creep." then dropped the man and got up.

the man nodded before he propped himself up against the bottom of the sink. he wiped his bleeding nose and before he could get a word in, kevin was gone.

"min elskede!" kevin's words could be heard and made you look over. you perked up a little bit as your boyfriend sat across from you. you were all smiles now in his presence.

"what happened to your hand?" you asked as you carefully took his hand in yours. you examined the red across his knuckle.

kevin rubbed the top of your head with his other hand, "oh, nothing. i wasn't looking at got it right at the corner of a door. you can kiss it if you want?"

you giggled a little then brought his knuckle to your lips, "what would you do without me, kevin?"

"oh, i don't know. i'd be lost." he smiled back at you.

-

back at your apartment, you were trying to get your socks off. they had little flowers printed on them and were a lovely pair. but it was hard with kevin's lips on your skin.

you squirmed a little and broke the kiss, "please, honey. let me get my clothes off." then burst into giggles when his lips got onto your neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and laughed.

"i can't help it, you're so beautiful." he admitted before he managed to pry himself away from you to let you get undressed. as he undid his button up shirt, he watched you struggle to get out of your jeans and chuckled softly to himself. beautiful little thing you were.

"oh shush." you said as you slipped off your panties, feeling kevin's eyes on you, "i'm alright looking. nothing to write home about."

he took you and pulled him to your chest. he kept those strong arms around you, as if he didn't punch a guy in the face earlier that evening. but, that was simply a part of his life. he had a punch that could kill, but with you. he was so sweet.

eventually you wiggled out of his grasp and got yourself in a further state of undress. soon you naked body was exposed to him and you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

you said as you looked at him, "i'm not a piece of meat, honey."

he reached for you and pulled your naked body next to his. he kissed at your face with such love and said, "of course you're not. you're too important to be meat." then trailed kisses across your body.

you laughed, "oh, c'mon!" you squirmed a little bit and arched your back. your nails rubbed against his scalp. his hips shifted a little bit and his cock rubbed against your thigh.

he knew that if anyone in the family saw him in that moment, they'd think he was a totally different man. the mean boss of the family was reduced to getting head scratches while he worshiped your breasts with his lips.

he said sweet things against you, watching your squirm when his tongue touched your left nipple. he watched your reaction for a moment before he closed his eyes and started to really suck on it. leaving wet trails behind.

his large hands kneaded your breasts and he felt his back arch against you. you felt hot all over and you moaned a little louder. two lovers naked in bed together.

you ran your hands up and down his shoulders, you knew both arms were heavily tattooed. you moaned against his lips before he pulled away and moved away from you. he got you onto your elbows and knees with your ass in the air.

he groped your ass cheek a little bit as he stroked his cock a little bit before he got closer to you once more and rubbed his hard cock up against your slick pussy. he listened to your sweet noises which only excited him more when he slipped his cock in. the angle let him get quite deep inside of you.

"kev!" your back arched a little, "oh. wow! every time." you hit your fist against the bed for a moment. your back arched a little more and you held onto the covers under you.

kevin licked his lips as he kept both hands on you. he loved the feeling of your cunt around his cock. it was his little slice of heaven. all the money from being in the family was something, but to have your sweetness around him made everything feel so much better.

"you're so pretty." he said softly, "you are the most gorgeous thing i had ever laid eyes on. i think about you all day, how much i love you and care for you." he pressed his chest agaisnt your back, then kissed at the back of your shoulders as he rutted against you.

he could feel the pound of his heart as he continued to move against you. his breathing was heavy against your skin as you buried your face into the soft pillows. the pillows he bought for you because you talked so much about how they were just so soft. and you hated to admit that since sleeping with them, your sleeps have improved.

he watched you move a little bit and whine into the covers. you sounded so pretty as he rutted against you. he kissed your shoulders once more.

"please, kev. honey!" you whined.

"you're so beautiful, my love."

his movements continued and the heat in the room grew, especially between the two of you. you could feel the sweat of his chest on your back as he wrapped his arms around you. he kept you close to him as he picked up the pace.

he pushed your further into the bed and worked at your hips. his cock slipped in and out of you perfectly. you were a dream around his cock. the creaking of the bed under you as the two of you made love under the low light of your bedroom.

it was comfortable, it wasn't painful in every way. and it was so good to feel your lover so closely. you panted heavily into the pillows and clutched it tightly. your noises were muffled as he moved. he pressed further into you and knew he wasn't going to last long.

a man capable of such violence was so docile around you. he wanted you so badly. he needed you more than he needed almost anything. his heart sang for you, and when he was away he tried to get home to you as soon as possible.

the dangerous life was common for him, but he didn't want to scare you off. if you knew the truth, would you hate him? would you run away or to the police? would you leave kevin?

he loved you so much, the idea of losing you made him almost scared. he pressed into you as much as he could and fucked you with heavy thrusts. he heard you pant heavily into the covers as he felt the pleasure in his brain.

you whined more as you felt orgasm hit you like a train. you said to your lover, "please, kevin. i love you."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good. because i love you too." then gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with one final movement of his hips. he came with a groan before he slowed to a stop. he rested his face against your shoulder and just let himself feel you for a moment.

"i love you so much." you groaned.

kevin slipped out of you and laid out beside you. you laid next to him and let him wrap himself up around you. like a protective blanket. he pressed soft kisses against you and melted against your heated skin.

he said with his voice close to your ear, "i promise to protect you forever." then kissed the shell of your ear, "all of my days and all of my nights."

you giggled and turned in his arms, "sounds like you're trying to propose to me." your cheeks warmed at the thought.

he smiled down at you, "maybe, but i'll need a ring first." maybe he'll slowly let you into his world. to be closer to him than ever. he wanted you for a lifetime, to love you was an honour as he kept you in his arms while you both calmed down from your climaxes, "it's a secret for now." he said, "have to give you a little surprise."

you buried your face in his chest and giggled, "oh my god, kevin!" you squirmed a little bit on the bed, "you don't need to propose! really! i'm fine being your girlfriend." the idea of marriage made your cheeks hot!

he held your back and smiled into your hair, "even if it is just a ring, you deserve something nice. and if it is pretty enough then no idiot men at the bar will try to make you uncomfortable." he thought about the tracker he took off of you. being married to you was the end goal, but to protect you was a constant in his mind.

he kissed you, tomorrow he'll go ring shopping before his meetings. it'll be a hard choice to pick the perfect ring, but only the best for you. <3

[reevesdriver]

Mr. Dutton: Part 2 (NSFW)

Anon request: "John Dutton X reader have been dating for a while now and they’re sneaking around the house like teenagers, but they get caught by Beth. They could be caught making out in his office late and she barges in."

Word count: 996 (Bit short I know)

Reader: Female reader

Character(s): John Dutton

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Secret Relationship / Shower Sex / Dads Best Friend /

Support Me: Kofi

Part 1

Ever since that heated night where you took your best friends dad for the ride of his life John was unable to keep his hands off you. A few subtle glances here and some touching there drove the both of you mad. A few weeks had passed since that night and you hadn't had the chance to spend time with one another since the house was almost always full.

After a long morning of tending to the horses and doing housework around the Dutton ranch you opted for a hot shower to wash all the dirt and grime off of you. The house was empty, aside from John who was sat in his office on the phone to someone. Deciding not to disturb him whilst he was on a call you turned the shower on and waited for it to get warm before stripping your clothes and jumping in under the spray of water.

You looked down at the grime and first that was being rinsed down the plughole when you heard the bathroom door opening. "John?" You ask to the figure on the other side of the glass.

The sound of heavy fabric hitting the floor made your cheeks flush red and soon your question was answered when John pulled open the door to the shower and stepped inside, immediately embracing you. "You could've told me you were havin' a shower darlin', I would've joined you sooner."

"You were on the phone, didn't want to disturb you."

He hummed. "I'd rather be with you than dealing with bullshit." He says before kissing you softly. "Been a while since we've had anytime to ourselves."

His hands wander from around your body down to your waist and then over the curve of your ass where he grabs handfuls of the flesh pulling you against his body roughly. You feel his hardened cock prodding your soft belly, running a hand from his back you traced his sides before taking a hold of his cock in your palm.

"Quit teasing' me." John hissed as you gently squeezed his length. You laugh and in an instant he has your legs wrapped around him and your back pinned to the wall of the shower. His cock is sheathed inside of you and your arms instinctively wrap around the back of his neck as he manages to life you up and down on his length.

He may not look it but John was a strong man. Years working on the ranch had worked in his favour and you knew that you didn't have to worry about him dropping you as he fucked you harder. "C'mon baby." He says between pants and kisses. You clench around his cock as you cum and John follows soon after, his seed dripping out of you when he pulls his cock from your throbbing pussy.

The pair of you share more kisses in-between getting each other washed under the spray of water before eventually John drags you out of the bathroom to get dried and dressed. You slip into some comfy clothes and dump your dirtied ones into the laundry basket ready to be washed later on.

Later that day, when the house was clean and you'd finished putting your laundry away you found yourself walking to Johns office. With a gentle knock at the door you heard his gruff voice call from the other side telling you to enter, John sat at his desk with a cup of coffee in his hand. His cowboy hat had been taken off and placed beside a stack of papers that slowly piled up on his desk.

"Hey darlin'" He said with a smile as he sat back in his chair and watched as you closed the door and crossed the room. Picking his black hat up you dropped it on your head and sat perched on the edge of his desk in front of him. His hands immediately wrapped around your frame and you pulled him to your chest. "You're lookin' mighty stressed again John, anything I can do to help?" You say with a smirk.

"I'm sure there's a few things you could do for me." He laughs and you hum in content. Lifting his head from your chest John moves to capture your lips with his, he stands and pulls you off the desk and to your feet so he can hold you against his body easier. The height difference between the two of you barely affects the kiss since you stand on your tip-toes to reach him.

Your breathing deepens and as you press yourself to him the pair of you fail to hear the thudding of boots as Johns only daughter, and your best friend, storms her way to the office with a determined look on her face. “Daddy I can’t even tell you how mad I am.” She says entering the office. You jolt away from one another and turn to face the youngest Dutton who isn’t at all fazed with what was in front of her.

You stare at her, like a dear caught in the headlights and Beth laughs. "Don't look so worried, I already knew you two had a thing going on. You might wanna be quiet next time you're fucking."

Heat rises to your cheeks in embarrassment and you quickly return Johns hat to the spot on the desk that you took it from. Moving from your lover you hastily leave the room and head back to your own and shut the door behind you. Throwing yourself on your bed you stare at the wooden beams spreading across the ceiling when there's a knock at your door.

As you sit up the door opens and Beth takes a step into the room. "Beth, I-I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner." You stammer out an apology and she smiles.

"You've nothin' to apologise for, not seen my daddy so happy in a long while. Just don't break his heart."

"I won't."

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

KEVIN LEVIN doesn’t let you use the AUX because “driver always picks the music.” He doesn’t let you get away with giving him just a kiss on the cheek. He doesn’t like it when you talk to other guys even if it’s just to make conversation. And he calls you “pumpkin” when he’s being condescending. “There you are, pumpkin.” he says as he slides in next to you, his heavy arm draping over your shoulders. You look small compared to him, swallowed up by his hefty jacket as he eyes up the guy shooting his shot with you. “Who’s your little friend?” he taunts coolly. One curt introduction and a reserved conversation later, he decides he’s made his mark, and implying he’ll let you get back to it. To be sweet, regardless of your bubbling resentment towards him right now, you give him a chaste kiss on the cheek goodbye. “Uh-uh.” he chides instantly, a big hand clutching your jaw and swerving your head right back over, stealing a kiss from your lips. It’s meant to be uncomfortable for onlookers, your suitor peering away annoyedly as your fist bangs against your boyfriend’s chest scoldingly. You manage to jerk out of his grip, but he remains fairly confident, a smirk apparent on his lips as you shove him away. He snickers, and tells your new friend that it was “nice meeting him.” You roll your eyes at his ability to be a prick. On the way home, you want to drown out your irritation with music, but Kevin pulls over to make you ride his lap. “What’re you bein’ all fussy for? Was just introducing myself.” he insists.

[dinogoofymutated]

And the winner of the last Poll is... Haunted Mansion!

I'm sad to see Hocus Pocus go, but it will have a chance at redemption! Besides that, it's time to pick a character!

Winning poll: Haunted Mansion

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched… What could it be?

[mistwalkers-menagerie]

“Trevathan?”

“Yes, Caesar?”

“What is “tooth” in latin?”

“Dens, Caesar.”

Proximus frowns. “Dense? Same as "stupid"?”

Trevathan knew if he chuckled now, the Caesar would misinterpret it, even if it was in genuine delight and not ridicule.

“No, Caesar, it's uh... different spelling.”

“Hmpf.”

Proximus strokes his injured finger as you sit at his feet, Sylva in the process of removing your muzzle to give you a drink of water. Then the Caesar smirks, one fang showing.

“Dens is a fine name for her, yes?”

So this thingy wanted to come out. Proximus comes across you after you fled your colony due to "philosophical differences" concerning apes. After a rocky start, you got what you left for. Well, more than you bargained for. You got a mouth on you Proximus pretends he doesn't care for, but you're pretty much the only person who keeps him on his toes. You're just confused because you have Stockholm Syndrome or some shit.

If you like unhealthy power dynamics and Doofus Maximus' cocky ass, this might interest you. Will contain dark themes, topics and descriptions. I'm a pantser so I wing most of my fics, I feel like Dead Dove isn't warranted as of yet, but it very well might be so you've been warned

[supercap2319]

Percy 1: "You don't have a crush on our dads, right, Y/N?"

Percy2: "Yeah, because that would be weird, dude."

Y/N: "Of course I don't. That would be wrong. Besides, why would I be crushing on your fathers?" *Turns to see the different versions of Poseidon coming out of the sea in tight speedos* "Because they're not hot or sexy at all. Dripping wet, all muscular in very tight speedos looking all daddish."

[heartfullofleeches]

Clown Reader and the monster yan scientist introduced to their show to teach it about the world -

You enter the dimly lit patted cell with your hands against the wall as the metal door slams shut behind you. The stale air is pungent - acidic. Your nails chip at wearing paint as they scrape along the crevices in the walls as you stumble through the dark, tripping over your own signed merch and what you will yourself to believe are plastic dolls. The sole source of light in the room emits from a television in its far right corner. Matted hair and skeletal fingers obscure the familiar vibrant set on display - your own, chipper voice reverberating throughout the hollow prison.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes, wrap your arms around your chest, and give a biiiig squeeze. That's me, hugging you! - until next time. See you soon!"

The hands peel away from the tv with a wet sliick! as the arms attached fall around its shadowed frame. A tiny doll rests nestled in the crook of its elbow as the shadow rasps and coos in delight - lengthy, slime drenched ashen tongue patting the toy's rosy cheek. The teeth embedded into the muscle flattened againat the doll's face as it drags across - retracting into the grey flesh and leaving the plush exterior unscathed. You step back; beady, sunken eyes darting in your direction as your foot lands on the voicebox stitched into the stomach of one of your dolls.

"Cuddle me!"

The shadow drops to all four, cradling the arm with your doll to its chest. You soon realize it's number of limbs was double by three as five hands find perch on parts of your body. A growl rumbles in its throat and through your teeth, but as its jaws draw towards your neck it stops to sniff your skin. The creature looks between you and the doll in its hand, chittering softly as its eyes switch between the mini you and the real thing. You crack a smile, blinking tears from your eyes.

"H-hey, big guy! My friends out there tell me you're a fan, and from the looks of you, you might be the biggest! What's your name?"

The creatures hisses return with vengeance at the mention of others, but break into gentle purrs at the acknowledgment of being your greatest fan. It lets you go, searching around and plucking something off the breast pocket of one of those dolls you saw earlier. It licks the rectangle clean of the viscous fluid staining its frontside. It shoves the nametag in your face, tapping its claws against the plastic.

"Kevin? Your name is Kevin?"

The creature coos again, nodding its head before dipping in to sweep its tongue cross your cheek. Your smile becomes a little more genuine as you wipe your face on your sleeve. You extend your arms as it drops the doll and holds out theirs. "It's nice to meet you, Kevin."

Crackposts because yes:

Clown Reader, pointing at the scientists hiding behind thick glass: Kevin, can you tell me who this is?

Kevin, growling: Sinclair....

Clown Reader: Right! [Points at themselves] Who am I?

Kevin: Spouse.

Clown Reader: It's Y/n, actually

Kevin: Mine.

Clown Reader: Y/n

Kevin: Love.

-

Clown Reader: Ok, gang! Hope you're all ready to meet the new member to our crew.

Clown Reader, walks back stage and pulls a paper mask over Kevin's head: Alright, Kev! This is your first show. If you be good, we can do all tons of stuff together. Remember our number one rule?

Kevin: No biting. No scratching. No eating. Smile and wave

Clown Reader: Wonderful! Well, we can't keep them waiting any longer

[Clown Reader leads Kevin outside who immediately side eyes a literal puppet, pointing at its sockets before pointing down at it. The puppet silently sinks below the table.]

[cichard-rastle]

Late Nights

Kevin Ryan X Reader (Castle)

Summary: Little spoof where you end up working late at the precinct and Ryan comes to convince you to come home.

Word Count: 663

---

It was a late night at the precinct. Practically everyone had gone home already. Except you.

You just can’t get this case out of your mind. With half the precinct dark, you sit at your desk, staring at the board you crafted over the time of your investigation. It’s covered in pictures, notes, everything you’ve learned so far. And it feels like you’re on the brink of something, some kind of breakthrough. 

It’s giving you a headache.

She was a young woman, in her late twenties, just like you. You’d interviewed her husband, and if you’re honest with yourself, his reaction shook you more than you’d like to admit. He was devastated. Broken. And you promised you’d find who did it. Which is why you’re still here, pouring over every detail. There has to be something you’re missing.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps echoing through the silent office. You nearly jump out of your skin when someone’s hand curls around your waist, but you recognize their warmth immediately.

“Hey Kev,” you greet tiredly.. 

“You know, when you said you were going to head home soon,” he hums, drawing you back so you lean into his chest, “I figured you meant an hour or two - not midnight.”

You sigh, “I know, but I feel like I need to figure this out first.”

“And you think staring at this board for another hour will do that?” He props his chin on your shoulder, eyes scanning your evidence. 

“Works for Beckett,” you grumble.

“Yah, well, Beckett doesn’t have a husband waiting at home for her,” Ryan murmurs, squeezing your waist. “A very impatient husband who wants to cuddle with his wife.”

“Kevin-”

His lips press against your neck, tender and warm, and you falter.

“Come home.”

You bite your lip. He’s using that tone, voice low and soft and just pleading enough to make your determination waver. You’ve always been weak to Ryan, even before you started dating and eventually got married. A simple look and he could convince you to do about anything. And he knows it.

Ryan continues to trace lingering kisses over your neck and shoulder, his lips curving into a smile when he feels you shiver. Your hands come up to grip his arms, as if to give yourself leverage to stay strong, but he only takes it as a sign to pull you closer. You huff, but the sound turns into a sigh when his hands flex over your hips, thumbs pressing deep into your lower back.

“Kevin-“ you try again.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t make me beg.”

“Feels like you already are,” you reply weakly, eyes fluttering shut.

He hums again, hands sliding up, thumbs tracing along your spine. You groan as he works out the soreness in your muscles, tension dripping away with each swipe of his fingers. He knows your body better than you do, working it until you're just a soft mess in his hands.

“Can you blame me?” Ryan noses along the crook of your jaw, pressing a kiss right under your ear. “Is it so wrong for me to want my wife to take care of herself?”

“When all you really want is to have me in bed, yes,” you admonish, shaking your head with a smile.

“Hey, my intentions were innocent. I can’t sleep unless you’re in my arms,” he insists, “Must be instincts or something.”

That makes you laugh. The man really is cheesy, but you can’t deny that you love it.

“So, dear wife, will you please come home with me? I promise I’ll help you crack this in the morning.”

You tilt your head back to give him a look, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Ryan chuckles and brushes his lips against yours in a light kiss, “I know you will.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally nod, letting the last bit of resistance slip away. 

“Okay, let’s go home, my very impatient husband.”

---

disclaimer: none of my fics claim to be realistic or accurate when referring to police work/medical knowledge/work relationships

[witchofthesouls]

I think I found the embodiment of Cat!Megatron high off his aft on expired catnip but don't know who's the victim for this spectacle. Definitely not the victorious ceiling fan.

I do hear the horrified scream of 'MAXIPAD!' from the pincushion to this alien warlord turned cat.

https://www.tumblr.com/gougerre/747489749123645440?source=share

There are two victims here.

Megatron's dignity because he crashed into the wall and Optimus/Cinnamon/Cinnabuns was laughing so hard that Prime fell off the couch and still wheezing for air.

And Kevin's safety because he has a talent of taking perfectly timed photos and videos, and Megatron will never forgive him.

[junkdrawerfics]

the flustered detective

Kevin Ryan X Reader

Listen, I know this isn't Twilight, and I know this is like, a super random character that probably has such a small following, but I love him sooooo much, and had to write for him. So sue me, I'll probably write more for him.

Summary: You make Detective Ryan very nervous and everyone knows it. Even you. So yah, that's it, just a cute little fic about flustered Ryan.

Word Count: 1001

---

“Just go talk to her, man.”

Ryan jumps, jolted from his thoughts as his partner slaps him on the back. He casts Esposito a scowl, straightening his ruffled vest.

“I can’t just…talk to her,” he sighs out, defeat burning behind his tone, “I can barely get a word out when she’s around me!”

“I know,” Esposito snickers, “it’s pretty pathetic, actually.”

The glare leveled at him is deadly. Esposito holds his hands up defensively, inching away with a smirk still glued to his face.

“Sorry. Just saying. You need to man up and grow a-“

“What does Ryan need to do?” 

The sound of high heels clicking along the precinct floor makes both men go stock still. Beckett rounds the corner of her desk, fine brow raised as she lets her gaze drift between the two detectives. Castle pops up behind her, smiling ear to ear, which is never a good thing.

“I believe Espo here was trying to give our friend, Ryan, a little advice on his women troubles,” he hums, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry, Ryan, I’m sure we can-“

“No, no no,” Ryan jumps to his feet before Castle can come up with another wild concoction of a plan. “I do not need advice from you-“ He points a finger at Javier and then spins to Castle. “And I definitely don’t need help from you, mister three divorces.” 

“It was two actually…” the writer mutters, looking at his shoes like a kicked puppy. 

Ryan gives him a pointed look, as if what he said sounds any better, “My point exactly. Listen, guys, I’m fine! I am perfectly capable of talking to (Y/n) myself.”

“Talking to me about what?”

The group freezes. Except Kate, who watches over the rim of her coffee cup, eyes dancing with amusement as Ryan goes beet red. You glance between the four, eyes wide with confusion as the men pass each other “looks”. They’re always so secretive, like they’re kids trying to carry out an awful plan. It’s more endearing than it is insulting, though. Esposito makes a show of shoving Ryan’s shoulder, making him face you before he saunters off to the break room.

“What’s going on, Ryan?” You ask as Beckett drags Castle off by the ear, against his dramatic protests.

“Oh, uh, with, with us? Nothing, we just um,” he coughs, blush spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. How cute. You fight back a smile, settling with a look of amusement that only seems to fluster him more. “We were just talking about a case! Yah a case. And I was going to…ask for your help?”

“Really?” You hum, head tilting ever so slightly. Ryan’s jaw clenches and he nods, lips pressed together tightly. You almost want to tease him a little more, see how far the blush goes, but you’re afraid his poor heart might give out. “Okay. I can help with your case! As long as Kate’s onboard.”

“Yah, yah, she, um, she’s totally onboard.” Ryan cringes at the lie. Hopefully Beckett won’t mind. 

“Great!” You smile, sticking out your hand. “I look forward to working with you, Detective Ryan.”

He nods again, rushing to take your outstretched hand. You giggle as he fumbles. Heat creeps up Ryan’s neck, and man, he wishes he could just say something smooth like Javier, or witty like Castle, but all he can do is laugh awkwardly, heart racing a mile a minute. Just because he’s holding your hand.

He’s a grown man, he chastises himself, a detective for the NYPD. He can break down doors and take on criminals, hell, even face torture, but the feeling of your hand in his? That’s what makes him crumble.

The man looks to be seconds from passing out, you realize, chest aching with something fond. You give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, and those gorgeous blue eyes snap up to yours, wide and uncertain in a way you’ve never seen. It makes your chest ache even worse and your smile turns uncharacteristically soft for just a moment. “Easy tiger. You're doing great.”

That seems to help. Ryan forces his muscles to relax, taking a deep breath and nodding slowly. You give his hand one final squeeze. Your hands are so small compared to his, and not covered in calluses or scars, a thought he tries not to linger on as you slip away back to your desk. Just in time for his team to make a reappearance.

“Sooo?” Javier leans in front of him, eyebrows wagging, “What did you say, mister ‘I can talk to her myself’?”

“I um.” Ryan passes a hand over his neck, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation in his palm. Or maybe trying to lock it in his memory. “I may have…invited her onto the case?”

His partner's face falls. Esposito shakes his head, muttering disappointment under his breath, “Are you serious, man?”

“Yah, are you serious?” Kate presses, faking a frown. It’s impossible to be mad after watching that…ordeal play out. But she’s not one to miss an opportunity to mess with them. Just a little payback.

“It just-“ Ryan slumps back into his desk, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. “-happened. I didn’t know what else to say, okay? I just- I have the words in my head, and then she’s in front of me, and it’s like-“ He purses his lips, blowing out a sigh of frustration.

“It’s like everything gets scrambled and nothing fits together anymore,” Castle murmurs (casting a knowing glance towards Beckett, who returns it with a warning glare).

“Exactly. I just…I like her so much, you know?”

“Nope.”

Ryan just about socks Esposito in the face, glowering up at him, “Very helpful, Javi.”

“I understand, Ryan,” Kate offers.

“You do?” He perks up hopefully.

“Yah. I remember I had a hard time talking to this one guy I really liked…you know, back in middle school.”

Ryan groans, “I have no sanctuary.”

---

When I tell you I would die for this man-

[aeharbour]

🪧Masterlist

🪧Parts: one I

🪧Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Alternate Universes

🪧Pairing(s): Hyunjae x Reader, Q x Reader

🪧Summary: Seoul is in lockdown after a horrific outbreak. Separated from her family and fiancé, a young woman joins forces with three strangers to reach her family. A desperate fight for escape unfolds as they race against time and the growing chaos to survive.

🪧Word Count: 2,450

🪧Warning : Mention of zombies, and subtle references to the 2020 pandemic

net: @deoboyznet

You leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator, your head throbbing in time with each ascending floor. The bright lights shine over your pale face, making you push the cap on your head further down. Last night's after-work hangout had been a whirlwind of chattering workers, loud music, and endless soju bombs. Now, the remnants of too much alcohol twister your stomach into knots. You closed your eyes, hoping the ride would end soon, but the soft ding of each floor felt like a hammer against your skull.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it—no doubt a message from your fiancé, who finally had some time to use his phone privileges. You felt guilty for ignoring Jaehyun when you had so little time to speak to him each day, but there was no way you could bear to look at the glowing screen.

The door opened, and you were about to sigh relief before a tall man stepped inside with a large duffle.

Level 6, which means you had 7 more floors to go.

You shyly recognize that the male beside you is handsome, his broad shoulders and defined jawline accentuated by his fitted t-shirt. He gave you a polite nod of acknowledgment, which you returned with a slight smile before averting your gaze.

As the elevator approached your floor, you took a deep breath, hoping your headache would ease once you were in the quiet of your apartment. The doors opened with a final ding, and you stepped out. To your surprise, the man followed, heading in the same direction.

You walked silently down the hallway together, the soft carpet muffling your footsteps. When you reached your door, you hesitated momentarily, fumbling for your keys. He stopped at the apartment directly across from yours, and you watched from the corner of your eye as the door opened and he slipped inside.

You mused that he must be a friend of Changmin's, unlocking your door. You knew your neighbour in passing, another attractive tall male who coincidentally works in the building across from your office. Jaehyun was more familiar with your neighbour than you were; the two of them once got into a small fight over something as trivial as parking space, but that deterred you from ever building a friendly relationship with Changmin.

You step inside and slide into your slippers, hanging your coat and bag on the rack. Thinking back to all your decisions yesterday, staying over at Naeun's house when you had nothing clean to wear was probably the worst. The throbbing in your head persisted as you moved towards your ensuite bathroom, hoping a quick shower might alleviate the dull ache and eliminate the smoke smell stuck on your hair.

Glancing out the window as you shuffle out of your clothes, you notice a small traffic jam has formed due to a car crash on the main road next to your apartment block. You grimace. Great. Just what you need – another obstacle before getting some much-needed rest. Sighing as you step into the bathroom, you turn on the hot water in the shower, hoping the steam will help clear your head. As the small room fills with warmth, your phone buzzes again persistently on the counter.

This time, the guilt wins the battle. Ignoring the dull ache behind your eyes, you stretch out a soapy arm and grab the phone, the screen momentarily obscured by a sheen of water. A glance at the caller ID reveals it's not Jaehyun but your mother. A flicker of surprise shoots through you – your mom rarely calls you so early on the weekends.

"Eomma," you answer, your voice echoing slightly in the shower. The sound of your own voice, hoarse and scratchy, makes you wince.

"There you are! I've been trying to reach you all afternoon," your mom's voice comes through, laced with a hint of panic that sends a jolt through you. "Have you seen the news?"

Panic claws at your throat, mirroring the tightening sensation in your stomach. News? With a growing dread, you picture flashing headlines about military disputes or other political turmoils.

"No, I haven't," you manage, the steam making your voice even more raspy. "What's going on?"

The sound of your mother taking a deep breath reaches you through the receiver. It's a shaky breath, unlike the usual sigh of exasperation she reserves for your life.

"There's been an outbreak," she says, her voice tight. "An airborne virus. They're calling it 'Zen II'. The government just announced a city-wide lockdown will be initiated tomorrow. You must get into your car and drive to Incheon immediately."

The phone feels slick in your wet hand. Lockdown? A new virus? You thought you'd never have to deal with all of that again, how could the government let it get this far without a word leaking to the press. A million questions bombard your mind, but the hot water stinging your skin reminds you of your immediate situation.

"Okay, Mom. I'll start packing and try to make it home before midnight," you say, forcing your voice to stay calm. "But what about Jaehyun? Are they saying something about the military?"

"There'll be more information on the news. Jaehyun will probably get leave as well, don't worry. I will talk to his mother and call you back. Try to shower quickly, would you."

The line goes dead before you can ask anything further.

You stare at the phone, a cold dread settling in your stomach. Guilt crashes over you like a wave – the after-effects of last night's work gathering suddenly feel trivial compared to the news your mother just delivered. You should have gone home and been preparing for this, not nursing a hangover in the shower. You force yourself to focus. Packing. That's what you need to do. Food, water, essentials – the same drill you went through years ago feels chillingly familiar.

With a sigh that echoes off the wet tiles, you step out of the shower, the chill of the apartment contrasting sharply with the hot water. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you grab your phone and scramble for a dry spot.

It would be nice to check the news for yourself. As you open the news app, an old notification pops up – a message from Jaehyun. Your heart leaps momentarily before sinking again. You were supposed to meet tomorrow for family visitation, there's no way that's still on.

01:43 Hey love, I just got off duty. Did you make it home okay?

In your drunken stupor, you hadn't even let him know you would be staying over at Naeun's. You bite your lip, the weight of your actions pressing down on you. Ignoring Jaehyun's text for now, you toss your towel aside and rush to your closet.

Clothes are thrown onto the bed in a flurry - jeans, t-shirts, a warm hoodie. You rummage through drawers, shoving socks and underwear into your only suitcase.

Suddenly, a loud BANG echoes from outside your window. Your heart jumps into your throat. Adrenaline surges through you, so you race to the window and fling open the blinds. Your breath hitches. The traffic jam you noticed earlier has become a scene of chaos. Cars are abandoned, doors flung open. In the distance, you could hear a loud ambulance siren echo through your double-paned glass window.

Your stomach lurches. It's real. Zen II. The news reports you missed must have been filled with all the details. But there's no time to dwell on that now. You grab your phone, and Jaehyun's message flashes on the screen, mocking you. With trembling fingers, you type a quick reply.

14:27 I'm sure you have heard about the lockdown by now. I'm on my way to my parent's house. Stay safe. I love you.

You hit send without proofreading, shoving the phone back into your bag. A second, another bang erupts from downstairs, closer this time. It's probably coming from the car park below your apartment building.

Panic thrums through your veins. You grab your suitcase bag and sprint towards the door and the brightly lit elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator descended, each floor seeming to take an eternity. The tension in the air is so unfamiliar to the ride upstairs that it feels like it was yesterday and not an hour ago. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the anxious gasps escaping your lips.

The doors finally slid open, revealing the dimly lit car park. You scanned the rows of parked cars, searching for your familiar blue sedan. There. In the spot somewhere across from the elevator. Relief flooded your system momentarily before a wave of nausea washed over you. Your car wasn't facing forward the way you left it yesterday. It was backed in, haphazardly at that, one bumper dented and scraping against the concrete wall.

Anger flared, hot and sharp, momentarily eclipsing the anxiety gnawing at your gut. Who did this? Some careless driver amid the chaos? It didn't matter. Whoever it was had just thrown a wrench into your escape plan.

You quickly approached your car, the silence broken only by the sound of your suitcase's wheels bumping against the concrete floor. Reaching the dented bumper, you peered through the driver's side window. The airbags had deployed, but the keys, thankfully, were still in the ignition.

But a flicker of movement in the back seat caught your eye. You froze, breath catching in your throat. A low, guttural moan rose from within the vehicle.

Panic rocketed through you, momentarily eclipsing the nausea. A figure, its silhouette vaguely humanoid but grotesquely contorted, lunged from the backseat of your car. Claws, long and dripping with something viscous, scraped uselessly against the glass, missing you by a hair's breadth. You lurch backwards, the suitcase wheels screeching as they scrape across the concrete. Your foot gets caught on an uneven edge, sending you sprawling onto the grimy floor.

Pain flared in your ankle, but it was quickly overshadowed by a new terror. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as you scrambled to your feet, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

Your eyes darted around the dimly lit car park, searching for an escape route.

Just then, headlights cut through the gloom, bearing down on you with terrifying speed. With a screech of tyres, the car slammed to a halt mere inches from where you stood, the force of it momentarily knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Squinting through the sudden brightness, you recognized the car – it was Changmin's jeep, one you usually see on your way to university. The passenger's door swung open, and the man you recognized from the elevator wordlessly grabbed your suitcase and pushed you into the car's back seat.

"Wait, what are-" you ask before he tries to shut the door in your face.

"Just get in," he barked, his voice gruff, "We don't have much time."

Before you could question his urgency, you noticed the man sitting beside you. This man, younger and with a mop of unruly hair, held out a hand to help you settle in with your suitcase. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your ankle, you grabbed his hand and slid into the middle seat. The taller male quickly pulled your suitcase in after you, slamming the door shut and getting into his own seat just as another guttural moan echoed from behind your car.

Through the rearview mirror, you caught a glimpse of the horrifying figure clawing uselessly at the empty space where you once stood. A wave of nausea hit you again, but you forced it down. Now wasn't the time to be sick.

"Sorry for Younghoon, we're all just a little rattled," the man beside you explained, his voice surprisingly calm. "We were by the exit when we heard you scream, thank god we arrived in time. My name's Chanhee, by the way."

"Hi," you breathe out, frazzled and introduce yourself.

The engine roared to life, tyres screeching against the concrete as Changmin peeled out of the car park. The familiar street outside your apartment building now had an unsettling air – abandoned cars haphazardly blocking lanes, overturned trash cans, and the occasional flicker of flames in the distance painted a picture of a city in descent.

"Where are we going?" you asked, clutching your suitcase tightly.

Changmin glanced at you briefly through the rearview mirror, his jaw clenched tight. "The nearest express bus station. It's a gamble, but it's our best chance to get out of the city before the lockdown clamps down hard."

"Shouldn't we stop by a convenience store? Just in case?" Chanhee chimed in from the passenger seat.

"There is no time, Seoul is the only city that is currently afflicted" Changmin replied, "The lockdown will seal the city soon, and who knows what will happen then. We need to get outside the city limits. Do you have somewhere to stay?"

You realize the last question was directed towards you, "Yes. Yes, my parents are waiting for me in Incheon."

You watched Changmin take in your words as silence settled for a moment.

"What about your boyfriend?"

"My fiance," you reply, "He's stationed in Yangju."

"That's not too far, but I doubt they are letting the soldiers go anywhere with a zombie outbreak."

The word "zombie" echoed in your mind. It felt strange, almost unreal. Throughout your life, it had been confined to the pages of comic books and the flickering screens of horror movies. It sounded absurd.

"Those things," you collect your thoughts, "They were human?"

You watch Changmin through the rearview mirror as his eyebrows furrow and unfurrow at your question.

"That's what they're saying."

The express bus station loomed closer, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But even as relief flickered in your heart, you knew the real challenge was just beginning. Reaching the station was one thing; securing passage on a bus out of the city was entirely another.

"Do you think they'll be letting people on the buses?" you asked, voicing the worry gnawing at your gut. Images of desperate crowds and overflowing buses flashed through your mind.

Chanhee shook his head, his youthful optimism tempered by the grim reality around them. "Maybe. Maybe not. But it's our best bet. We just have to get there and hope for the best."

His words offered little comfort, but they were all you had. Gripping your aching ankle tighter, a silent prayer escaped your lips as Changmin slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

You had arrived.

[amor-ad-nauseam]

Silly one shot with my oc and tfw cause I have writers block

Notes; takes place during season 9, angel!oc

————————————————————————

Sam jolts awake to the sound of a loud crash coming from somewhere in the bunker. Adrenaline surges through his every synapse so quickly he doesn’t even remember grabbing his gun or racing out of the door.

What he didn’t expect to find when he reached his target was the group of 4 idiots standing before him. Castiel, Dean, Lailah, and Kevin each wore an expression of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “What the hell…” he trailed off, his eyes slowly moving through the room.

Lailah and Kevin were crouched on the floor covered head to toe in flour. They were attempting to scoop what looked like it was supposed to be dough (but was all too sticky) back into a now dented metal bowl. “Oh…hey, Saammm,” Lailah said, drawing out his name in a guilty manner.

“We didn’t wake you, did we?” Castiel asked. He and Dean were stood over by the stove. Dean, one hand on an oven knob ready to preheat and the other holding a bowl which conjoined he and Castiel. Cas’ other hand was stopped in its tracks, whisking a pot of butter.

“It looks like a damn bakery threw up on you guys,” Sam stated in confusion as he tucks his gun into the waistband of his pajama pants.

“…We wanted cinnamon rolls,” Kevin said in a small voice.

“Yeah,” Dean conceded. “And you’ve been on your health-nut-rabbit-food crap all week.”

“Sooo, you guys all decided to have a secret midnight baking party without me?”

The room echos with murmurs of “yeah.” And “pretty much.” Sam frowns.

Dean passes Cas the bowl with cinnamon sugar, Kevin and Lailah unpause their attempted scooping and Cas stirs. Sam watches as the four stooges begin to gradually settle back into their previous occupations and while his adrenaline rush was gone, his grogginess and confusion seemed as though they were here to stay.

“Lai, you don’t even eat…?” He said, half a statement, half a question.

“And yet I was invited to the secret baking party.” She shrugs, looking over her shoulder at him.

Sam sighs, rolling up his sleeves, he goes to help Kevin and Lailah clean the sticky doughy mess from the floor.

“If you can’t beat em, join em.” Sam mutters to himself.

[juniperwoodwell]

Send in your requests! No limitations, let your imaginations run wild! I really want to write for Keanu and his characters.

Here's my ✨Masterlist✨ where all the characters I will write for are. Including keanuverse.

(Gif Credit is Pinterest-)

[hanasnx]

she’s a good girl.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: daddy kink use of the word “dad” | no foreplay | sexual content | fem reader.

“Can you pass me that ratchet, sweets?” KEVIN LEVIN asks, pointing vaguely in the direction of his tool box which is haphazardly disarrayed in a mess on the floor. You set your drink down—the one he bought you as penance so you’d stay out of his way while he worked—and creep over, carefully toeing over his propped up legs. If he pulled out from under the car now he’d see up your skirt.

“Sure thing, Dad.” you respond without thinking anything of it, bending over to reach into the toolkit. A loud bang makes you jump out of your skin, a full body prickle travels up your spine as he loudly curses. He kicks out, his foot connecting with the box to send it sliding, careening the garage door with a clatter. You watch it with wide, curious eyes. Before you get a chance to chase it, Kevin rolls out from under the car with a scowl on his severe expression and clutching his hand.

“What’d you just—“ he begins in an angry seethe, pained from whatever accident was inflicted on his greased hand. However, that glare in his face melts, taken aback by the view as you sheepishly stand over him like a deer-in-headlights. A light pink dusts the crest of his cheeks as he closes his mouth promptly, swallowing hard at the sight of your backside on display for him. Suddenly, he doesn’t care so much about the throb in his hand, and he certainly forgets your odd nickname, the outline of your cunt in your little panties at the forefront of his mind.

Another thing this car is good for—besides constantly breaking down without his gentle and loving maintenance—is how a pretty body looks on the hood. It takes no time at all before he’s thrown you on it, cooping you up there like a pin-up girl while he hastily unbuckles his pants. The mere sound of it dampens you, and you watch with bated breath and eager interest.

“You ready for me, baby? Didn’t wash my hands.” He glances at you, manhandling you into a closer position while the head of his cock nudges at the wet fabric over your pussy.

“Mm-hm, Dad, I am.” you reply without hesitation, clinging onto his arm as he keeps you up on the hood, your legs folded up on either side of you.

In the middle of those filthy fingers deftly pulling your panties to the side, his gaze meets yours deliberately with a couple spacey blinks. He shrugs it off. “You call me the weirdest shit.” Yanking the elastic aside, he strokes at your folds with his tip, and you whimper at the glimpse of pleasure. Getting fucked on his car is usually pretty rough, but nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how he pins you down and fucks your brains out, big hands shoved under your backside to bring you into his harsh pace. All the while he’s breathlessly coaxing you in your ear, “What’d you call me again? Say that shit again… Wanna hear it… Gets you so fucking wet, you’re a fuckin’ freak, you know that?”

[dinogoofymutated]

Morph/GN!Reader It's a little late, and super short and not that in-depth, but I'll be honest, I've been on the struggle bus lol. I feel that Practical magic might have to hold on until after october, as I really want to post the secret surprise guest fic on halloween day and I'm worried I wont have enough time if not. Don't worry though! It should still be posted eventually.

You’ve always considered the rumors about your family’s witchy and magical past to be fictional, absolute nonsense. Well, you did, until you found yourself accidentally bound to someone who’s more or less your familiar. Neither of you particularly wants this, so you focus on whatever magical skills you managed to inherit on breaking the bond- but is that really what you want?

TWs: Incredibly inaccurate witchcraft and magic, misunderstandings, I'll add more if I think of any.

    “And you’re sure this will work?” You sigh at the sound of the voice, Morph sitting on your counter and kicking their feet back and forth as they watch you draw a chalk symbol on the floor. The lines are crooked and the symbol a little wonky, but it looks close enough to the one you saw on Google- you think.

    “Nope.”

    It’s been almost a week since the universe decided that you needed a new problem on your hands. One day you’re joking about the supposed magical past of your family line, then the next day you’re waking up at midnight to heavy vertigo, bright lights, and something- someone in your house. Not only had you jinxed yourself, you had put yourself through some kind of horror movie by walking through the dark house and faceplanting directly into a pale, lanky creature that you were sure you'd seen on some horror forum in the 2010s. Only, they weren’t just some creature. They were your creature. Your familiar, apparently. Like, witchy familiar- like black cats or owls or other creatures of the night- only you got stuck with a Changling, one who wasn't exactly thrilled about the situation, having enjoyed hundreds of years of freedom since being bound to another magic-user.

    “Really starting to doubt that you're an actual witch, you know.” They hum, hopping down from the counter and stretching their arms. You let out a long groan, running your hands through your hair before you plop down on one side of the circle.

    “That’s because I’m not!” You say, exasperated. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing- and if anything I would expect the Fae-born changling to know more about this!” Morph only shrugs, which only aggravates you further.

    “Don’t hate the player, rookie, hate the game.”

    “Would you please sit down already?” 

    The instructions you follow make you feel stupid. You had everything that the “spell” or whatever it was required, but it was just so… cheesy. Every step you follow feels stereotypical and fake. You’re a hundred percent sure that it probably wasn't exactly common for witches and whatnot to sever the magical bond between themselves and their familiars,  but this wasn't really an average situation. You don’t want to use magic, or be a witch! And Morph doesn’t want to be stuck to you either! You can already see the hopeful glimmer in their eyes as the chalk circle begins to glow,  the writing on the sheet of paper you were using to guide you quickly following suit. The air begins to feel staticky, charged with magical energy. There’s a buzzy feeling underneath your skin, and the tension in the air begins to grow as the tea candles on the counter go out suddenly. There’s a moment of anticipation, and then a flash of blinding light. You close your eyes at the bright shine, feeling the buzzy feeling die down. There’s a silence in the air, and when you finally open your eyes… Morph is still there, tapping their fingers against the wood floor. They look a little disappointed, before giving you a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. 

    “Soooo, should we order takeout tonight?”

    “God damnit.”

    You go grocery shopping instead. While you're in the store, Morph is really helpful. You’ve only known them a day or two, but they are certainly living up to their title. You don’t really have to ask for help very much, sometimes they just do things you need, and other times you do ask them to do something (stupid tall shelves) and it’s almost like compassion for them to fulfill your requests. You don’t like that. Morph is still smiling, but you don’t think they like it either.

    Morph is… strange. Not in a regular way- and the constant changing and taking on new forms isn't exactly news to you, besides the fact you had been so sure changelings usually take on a single shape, but then again you didn’t exactly do a ton of research on that kind of mythology. You’re starting to think you should have, but that's aside from the point. Morph is actually really nice, and funny, and always manages to find a way to make you laugh. There are moments when it just feels so authentic and others that feel… hollow, almost. 

    As nice as it was to have company, the quest for a spell to sever the bond between you continued. Morph helps you find spellbooks at the library you had never known existed, stayed up late with you to find herbs and fungus that only grew at night, helped you make breakfast and drank wine with you on the weekends before laughing with you until morning. Months go by of this, and despite every failed spell or ritual, the air between you only settles, both of you relaxing into a new comfortable energy. They’re less stiff than they used to be, you noticed. they’re less afraid to make mistakes, and more likely to join you for company. 

    Eventually, Morph tells you about their sinister first master- if you can call the bastard that. It’s a serious moment, one you’re not likely to forget, but afterward, you find a new kind of appreciation for how comfortable they were in your home, and with you.

    From then on, things between you… change a bit. Something shifts. Morph is a lot more touchy with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders, draping themselves across you on the couch. Their jokes come off more genuine and less stiff- less of a defense than they were before. There’s newfound mutual trust, one that you start to enjoy.

    …But they still had to go home, right?

    You feel like every step closer you get to having the perfect spell mastered, something goes wrong. All these little nitpicky things that you had overlooked time and time again begin to wear on you, and with your growing fondness for Morph, it wears you down a little. You want them to say, but you don’t want to keep them here. Not against their wishes. Additionally, your new spellbooks and supplies-  hell, even the crystals you owned before any of this magic stuff surfaced had gone missing. You go to try another attempt, and time and time again, after not being able to find the key components you knew you had, you gave up and waited for another day. And then when you would find what you needed, something else would be missing instead. You have never felt so forgetful then you did while searching the house and having to get Morph to help you- because it really had to be you misplacing things, right?

    What was stranger was that Morph didn’t really care. They would laugh about it and shrug their arms and lightly make fun of you, but never made you feel too bad about it. You had felt so guilty every single time, knowing that you were keeping them here due to your own thoughtlessness- and the fact that you enjoyed them being here only made the guilt worsen. 

    Eventually, the time finally came when this foolproof spell you had been working on for so long was ready. 

    The room is lit by candles, the chalk on the floor almost glowing against the dark wood. There’s a small fire in the center of the circle, various crystals and things placed around in strategic patterns, and the air is buzzing with magic. You’ve recited these words so many times at this point you had it memorized, so focused on wrapping the twine rope to bind yourself and Morph’s wrists together you hardly see the way their face shifts, looking paler than ever. 

    “Are you sure this is going to work this time?” Morph asks, an unsteady tone to their voice. 

    “Well, we’ll know if the fire-” You don’t even have to finish your reply, as soon as the twine has been fully wound, only a string hanging down in the middle, the fire shifts in color, a wave of magic sweeping the room and every other candle and flame following suit. You look around in surprise, with this being the first time you’ve ever had that kind of reaction. It feels… good. The magic beneath your skin, the power and control you have over the elusive spell at your fingertips. And yet, you still can’t bring yourself to smile. 

    The fire beneath your wrists stretches, the flame flickering up to lick at the twine that hangs between you. This kind of flame won't burn the skin, only the rope, you remind yourself as you anxiously watch the fire grow. You can’t hear anything over your heart pounding in your ears, the twine burning slowly before it begins to pick up in speed. A wind begins to pick up in the room, candles flickering as the magic seems to become sucked into the binding as it burns. You’re too focused to really pay attention to Morph’s growing discomfort, but time is ticking, and you look up at them expectantly when they must speak their half of the spell, taking their power back for themself and rescinding your use of it.

    “Morph?” They don’t respond to their name, eyebrows furrowed as the flame burns more and more of the rope. You finally notice how nervous they look, heaving breaths and shaking shoulders. It’s all moving so fast, and they’re running out of time. The flame completely overtakes the twine when Morph suddenly shifts the size of their wrist, yanking it out of the binding. All of the air is sucked out of the room, the magic following suit as every flame returns to its normal color, and you can’t help but let out a screech as your wrist begins to burn. 

    “Shit! Sorry! Sorry! I’m so sorry.” Morph is rambling.  You’re desperately trying to get the rope off as they race off to the side, grabbing the bucket of emergency water you kept just in case something went wrong. You call their name in frustration, tears dotting your eyes as they grab your hands and plunge it into the water, quenching the fire.

    “Please, just don’t be mad!” They beg, but it’s a little late for that. Your growing anger is only amplified by the unbearable pain from the burn on your wrist.

    “Of course I’m mad!” You shout. “How can I not be?!” Tears are finally beginning to roll down your cheek, from the pain or the anger, you didn’t know. Morph is becoming frantic, running back over to the side to grab the first-aid kit before sitting down with it. You can’t bring yourself to take your wrist out of the cool water. They can’t seem to decide the best way to help you, either, hands reaching out to wipe your tears but retracting before they can touch your face.

    “I can’t- I’m sorry, I couldn’t-”

    “Why didn’t you just tell me?!” The words come out like a shout, and Morph flinches, looking ashamed. 

    “Do you have any Idea how hard this was for me?” You sob. “-To tap into whatever magic bullshit this all is, do all of these rituals and spells and have each one of them fail? Having to prepare myself for you to leave me over and over again?!” There’s a second of silence, Morph looking at you wide-eyed.

    “What?” Morph breathes, in absolute shock, still hovering by your side. You scoff at the question, taking your wrist out of the water to weakly punch at their chest.

    “You’re such an oblivious asshole!” Your arms are around them before they have a second to react, burning your face into their shoulder. Morph is frozen, stiff under you like they still haven't fully processed what was happening. You continue to cry into them, sobs and hiccups slowing while they begin to relax, wrapping their arms around you and burying their face into your hair.

    “Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to stay?” The words are whispered and broken, but Morph only holds you tighter.

    “I… I thought you wanted me to go.” Morph mumbles. You shake your head, only curling into them further. They hold you back just as tight, and you know that the relief you’re feeling is mutual. 

    You sit together for a long, teary-eyed moment, breathing each other in.

    “So…” Morph breaks the silence. “Takeout?” You laugh, and it’s possibly the greatest sound they've ever heard.

    “Hell yeah.”

[violetsixx1981]

Kevin, We Need to Talk. Part 8

Sorry this took so long

Your dad and Kevin's mom help you tell the school

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

When the time came for you to tell the school, your dad and Kevin’s mom came with you.

“We will do everything we can to make sure Y/N has all the accommodations she needs,” said Principal Hastings. “We very much appreciate it,” said Eva. “She will, of course, be excused from gym, I’m sure we can find something for her to do to make up the credit. How far along is she at the current moment,” asked the principal. “She’ll be 20 weeks on Tuesday,” your father responded. “Alright, I’ll put that in her file, and I will let her teachers know. Thank you for coming to speak to me, Mrs. Khatchadourian and Mr. Y/L/N. Kevin, Y/N, and their unborn baby will be in good hands here,” Principal Hastings said as he walked them out of his office.

You felt a mix of relief and apprehension as you stepped into the hallway. The support from the school was reassuring, but the reality of your situation was ever-present.

Eva and your dad exchanged a few more words with the principal before turning back to you and Kevin. “I think that went well,” Eva said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” you nodded, though the weight of the months ahead still loomed large in your mind. “Thanks for being here, both of you.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” your dad said. “We’re in this together.”

Kevin squeezed your hand. “Ready to get back to class?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

As you walked down the hallway, a few classmates cast curious glances your way, but you held your head high. Kevin stayed close, his presence a comforting anchor. When you reached your classroom, you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Mr. Thompson looked up from his desk and smiled. “Welcome back, Y/N. We’re just discussing the themes in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.'’”

You took your seat, feeling a sense of normalcy as you opened your notebook. Kevin sat beside you, and the class resumed its discussion. You tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting to the future.

After class, Kevin walked you to your next period. “You did great,” he said. “One step at a time, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling a bit more confident.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. When the final bell rang, you met Kevin outside.

That evening, after finishing your homework, you lay in bed, placing a hand on your growing belly. “We’re going to be okay,” you whispered, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of schoolwork and preparations. You and Kevin attended your doctor’s appointments, and the baby’s development was on track.

One afternoon, as you and Kevin were studying at your house, your dad came in with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, sitting down. “We need to start getting the nursery ready.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“Absolutely. We need to be prepared. Kevin, do you have any ideas?”

Kevin smiled. “I think we should go with a neutral theme. We won’t know the baby’s gender until the gender reveal party/baby shower.”

Your dad nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. Let’s make a list of what we’ll need.”

The three of you spent the next hour brainstorming and making plans. As you wrote down items like a crib, changing table, and baby clothes, you felt a growing sense of anticipation.

Over the next few weekends, you and Kevin, with help from your dad and Eva, began transforming the spare room into a cozy nursery. Painting the walls, a soft, calming color, assembling furniture, and organizing baby supplies became a family effort.

With each passing day, you felt more prepared and less anxious. The support from your family and Kevin made all the difference, and you started to believe that everything would work out.

One evening, you and Kevin sat in the newly finished nursery, it was decorated in shades of yellow and had giraffes and elephants on the walls. “We’re really doing this,” you said, looking around the room.

“Yeah, we are,” Kevin agreed, taking your hand. “And we’re going to be great parents.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. The journey ahead was daunting, but you knew you could face it with Kevin by your side and the unwavering support of your family.