Request: Something along the lines of Reader moving and their pet getting loose so they have to either chase it down or search for it and a nice monster neighbor helping?
Lost pet
Werewolf x fem!reader || meet cute, fluff, sfw
Your stupid cute evil cats ran out.
You knew leaving them to explore the house as you finished unpacking was a bad idea, but they were screaming so loudly you were worried your new neighbors would complain, so you let them out of the room. And when you ran to your car to grab another box, they ran out of the house.
If moving into a new house wasnât stressful enough, now your cats escaped, and you were crying. You were screaming their names âFanart and Fanficâ, ugly crying as you frantically looked around your house, praying they didnât cross the street. You were panicking, panicking big time because they didnât know the surrounding areas. What if something happened to them? What if they hurt themselves? What if someone hurt them?
It was no more than ten minutes later, when your voice was wavering, but you were about to scream their names again when a very, very tall wolf-man walked around your neighborâs house.
âHey, are you okay?â He asked, frown so big his eyebrows almost touched his very long lashes.
In another circumstances you could have realized how fucking hot he was, and how pretty. He was practically your werewolf fantasy in the flesh, but once again, your cats were evil fluff balls who had to ruin this moment for you.
Between ugly crying, the only thing you could say was: âMy⊠My catsâŠâ
âYou lost your cat?â He asked, trying to decipher whatever you were trying to say.
âYes,â you nodded frantically. âTwo. Two of them,â you clarified. âI- I canât- I canât find them. I only opened the door for a second, and they ran out, and itâs a new neighborhood, andâŠâ You were rambling as you cried, and you couldnât stop yourself from panicking.
âOkay, come here,â he signaled for you to approach him. âLetâs take a deep breath.â You tried and failed. âDeep breath,â he repeated in an authoritative voice that erupted goosebumps all over your skin.
This time you obeyed, unable to resist the pull of his voice. The first breath was erratic, but he took your hand and held it against his chest, breathing slowly and urging you to mirror him.
âThatâs much better. Good job, sunshine. I think you might be my new neighbor.â He was your neighbor? Did you just met your neighbor while ugly crying in your pajamas? Fuck your luck. âI wish we meet in better circumstances, but let me help you look for the-â He said.
But then you heard a tiny meow, and you turned around in your heels so fast you felt your brain tripping a bit. âDid you hear that?â You asked him, he nodded. âI- I think they are there,â you told him pointing a rose bush that was almost as big as your house, right across the tiny clearing behind your house.
âIâll get them,â he offered.
âBut-â You didnât have time to stop him before he was power walking towards the bush and crawling inside of it. You heard his curses and the way your cats hissed, but you couldnât see him properly. âAre you alright?â You asked, doubtful about every stupid idea you had that led you to this second.
You saw his ass before you saw him, his tail waggling frantically. He was crawling backwards, holding something against his chest precariously. You could hear Fanart mewling-screaming as Fanfic hissed. He got back on his feet without having to use his hands, making you gape as another round of sobbing broke from your mouth.
He turned around, his shirt ripped in some parts and a couple scratches on his arms. âAre those your pets?â He asked in the most absurd tone possible, almost as if he were one of those television game hosts.
He held your cats in front of him, both of them squirming trying to get away. But his paws were big enough to grab them by the middle completely. You were sure he was getting scratched, but he didnât even flinch as he approached your teary-eyed self and offered you the two fluffy balls.
You sniffled again, hugging them against your chest as you kissed their little heads over and over until you earned yourself a couple of hisses. He chuckled across from you, his big body creating shade under the boiling sun as you stepped inside your house and chastised your cats from escaping.
You were in the middle of telling them off when you heard him softly laughing outside. You remembered that there was a big werewolf on your porch and he was most likely waiting for you to say thank you. You were so focused on your tiny evil fluff balls that you didnât even say thank you. Good goddess, you didnât have any manners, did you?
You rushed outside after closing the door this time, your cats mewling very loudly as you shushed them and stood in front of a very amused werewolf.
âThank you. Thank you, truly.â You repeated a few times, earning yourself a tiny smile. But he didnât say anything and your brain started spinning, so you did what you always did: âI will⊠I will make you pie. Or muffins. Or maybe a quiche. Or flan,â you rambled. He looked about to coo in your direction, his eyes soft and his hands resting in his pockets. âAnd Iâm rambling⊠What do you like? Shit, maybe you donât like baked goods. Shit. What can I offer you in thanks? Iâll do anything.â
âAnything?â He repeated with a loud chuckle, his ears twitching. You realized a tad too late what you said.
âWha- NO! Not that! Good goddess, not that. I meant food. I can make food. Iâm good at baking.â Good Goddess, could you be more awkward? He smiled, a smile so wolfish you could totally see the resemblance with his furry ancestors.
âI can think of other ways of repaying me,â the innuendo in his tone was clear this time, and you had to fight the urge to gape at him, biting down on your tongue so hard you could almost taste blood.
âYou- You can?â You asked back, your face flaming red and your whole body on high alert with the possibilities.
And then he surprised you by saying: âYou can have dinner with me.â
But you were nothing but dumb, so instead of catching what he meant, you questioned back: âLike⊠prepare you dinner?â You could do that. You could totally prepare him dinner, maybe your chicken with almond sauce...
He laughed again, stopping your train-wreck of thoughts. âLike going to dinner. As in a date. Iâm asking you on a date,â he clarified again just to make sure you didnât misinterpret him again, and you could feel your face about to be set on fire because of your embarrassment.
A date? A date with a big werewolf who was big as a tree, hot as fire and so kind he went into a bush to rescue your cats? You would be stupid to say no. âYes!â You almost screamed, much to his amusement. âI mean⊠Yes,â you repeated in a lower tone, face flaming again. âI- Iâd like that,â you added, smiling in his direction.
âIâll pick you up at seven, sunshine.â The pet name made you shiver as he waved at you and walked to his house, leaving you there, smiling so big your cheeks hurt.
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It was well established that Eddie Munson hated mainstream music. He was a metalhead through and through and no one could convince him to listen to something ridiculous like Bunny Bundy by Stevie who wore little frilly skirts and danced on high heels.
Sure, Eddie was kinda an old-fashioned guy, a traditional alpha with a heart for feminine omegas. But he always drew the line at popstars who warbled about puppy love and candy kittens.
Unfortunately for Eddie, his childhood friend Gareth was a Bestie (Stevie's fandom name) and finally managed to convince Eddie to attend one of the omega's meets and greets.
Eddie stared at the cotton candy pink light stick that had a heart-shaped globe in his hand. It was even glittering and could change colors.
Jesus. The whole theme was teeth rotting sweet. Everywhere Eddie went, he would see Stevie in his signature pink frilly skirt and Mary Janes.
So he shouldn't feel surprised the moment he grabbed Stevie's hand, the omega gasped quietly as a spark of electricity zipped through them both and Eddie could see those hazel eyes flash gold.
Stevie was the one who snapped out of it first and dragged Eddie all the way inside to what seemed like a dressing room.
"We have ten minutes," was all Stevie could muster before Eddie crowded him to the nearby available surface and kissed him senseless.
By the time Eddie left the venue, he had a new contact in his phone, a menagerie of hickeys on his neck, and a polaroid of Stevie (Steve Harrington) in his pocket. All pink and soft and glistening wet, gift wrapped in silk and laces just for him.
Two months after his dating rumor, Stevie released a new MV.
There was a man lying on red satin, bare tattooed chest beneath his leather jacket and pants, combat boots and chains, wild mane and hooded eyes, gazing up at an angelic-looking Stevie who was straddling him and holding a lipstick to paint his lips in blood red.
Before they could kiss, however, Stevie turned his face away with a smirk and sank his tiny omega fangs into the side of his victim's pale neck, making the poor man his puppet as the sultry beat played in the background.
The scene had gone viral overnight and Prey had climbed on top of every streaming platform. Not only was the music good, but Stevie's new concept was also a pleasant surprise.
Still that sweet, demure omega, but Stevie showed everyone that he wasn't as pure and innocent anymore. It was his new era.
The internet exploded. They talked about how Stevie broke out of the old concept he had been framed in. About the meaning of the song and MV. About the faceless man on the single's cover, kneeling on the floor in only a pair of leather pants, lean muscles and intricate black inks for the world to see, a chain necklace that hung a crimson plectrum, plump lips smeared with red, messy long curls and a sharp jawline.
A few days later, Stevie posted on his instagram a photo of himself being held from behind by the man who had appeared in his MV. Some even noticed the golden bands on the couple's ring fingers.
author's note: i got this idea while i was coming back from my own vacation and i thought it could be really cute.
warnings/tags: meet-cute, angst, fluff | mentions of spn canon violence, death, pain, grief, car accidents |Â language.
title from: love by olivia rodrigo.
âïž pics arenât mine, credits to their owners.
đ« please do not copy, repost or translate my work without my permission.
No matter how Sam tried to distract himself, his thoughts always made their way back to the words Dean had spat out at him the previous night.
âYou're a selfish bastard. Do you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks.â
He knew his older brother didnât actually mean that. He knew Dean was just as tired as he was of the same old fight: keep working the cases their dad sent or help him find the demon that most likely killed their mother.
And itâs not like Sam didnât want to help save other peopleâs lives; he understood the importance of the family business â he had learned it from a very young age â, but Dean was taking the âbeing a good sonâ thing really far. The faith and adoration he held for their father was blinding him and prevented him from understanding Samâs view of the situation.
How could they work a case in Indiana, two thousand miles away from John, while their father was apparently closing on the thing that killed Mary and Jess?
It didnât seem fair to Sam, especially when the wound from losing Jess was nowhere near healed. Her beautiful face and delicate voice still met him in his dreams in warm conversations about the most trivial topics, just like those they used to have on sleepless nights curled up on the bed. The difference was that now each time he woke up, the scar was torn wide open, raw, once again.
Could that really be deemed selfish?
Besides, that night six months ago, he hadnât only lost Jess. He was also stripped from the only shot he had at a normal life. He had managed to leave the supernatural world behind, get into a great school to pursue a law degree, be around people his age and make friends, have a steady relationship with the most amazing girl, and suddenly⊠it was all⊠gone.
Sam cleared his throat and took a deep breath, his stance unwavering. He had to go to California and help his father kill this demon. Not just out of revenge â sure, anger, rage and shame were harboured in his chest, but because he wanted, needed, some kind of closure. He wanted to look this creature in the eyes while he exorcised it, put a bullet through its skull, or drove a blade where its heart shouldâve been and make it pay.Â
Perhaps, once it was all over, he would visit Jessâ parents. He wasnât exactly sure about what he would say â either the hard, inconceivable truth or a deliberate, adorned lie â, but he felt he had to say at least something. He owed it to the memory of Jess and the permanent mark she had left on him.
Selfish bastard?Â
Yeah, right. Dean could shove those words where the sun didnât shine.Â
A mechanical screech snapped Sam out of his thoughts and his eyes took in the sight of the bus heâd caught to Sacramento. It wasnât absolutely packed but there were far more people than he had expected on a random Wednesday that early in the morning. The sun was just starting to climb up in the horizon, painting the scene in warm yellow and orange tones.Â
He took a look around and saw a guy around his age with a book on his hands but one side of his face was fully pressed against the headrest, his mouth wide open and the reading long forgotten. He also noticed a man in a black suit leafing through a newspaper and a woman trying to lull her baby to sleep, whispering soft tunes and sweet words in an attempt to stop the kidâs whimpers.
Then, he felt a sudden bump on his shoulder. He tilted his head to the left and was met with the top of somebodyâs head, from the girl sitting next to him.
Until that moment, she had been sleeping with her body propped against the window, but she must have shifted and, without realizing, ended up with her head laying on Samâs shoulder.
He was about to wake her up; he even got to the point where he lifted his arm to gently poke her with his index finger, but stopped on his tracks when he took notice of the girlâs features.Â
She was really pretty â not in the manufactured way that actresses and singers seemed to be, but like a butterfly on a flower: quiet but not invisible, gentle, dashing. The early sunrays casted a glow on her skin that made her look angelic, out of this world. However, it wasnât her beauty that called his attention. Well, at least not the only thing.
He also noted the mild puffiness and the darkish circles under her eyes. She looked like she couldnât afford to lose that sleep. She looked as if that moment right there was the first in a couple of days that sheâd been able to rest. She had that peaceful expression that only a much needed nap could provide.Â
He sighed, not in defeat but in understanding.
What harm would it cause to let her sleep on his shoulder? None, really.Â
As if to back up his decision, the corners of her mouth occasionally twitched upwards, indicating she was having a good dream. He didnât want to be the jerk that yanked her out of it just because she was a stranger.
So, he extended his arm, this time to grab the book inside his duffel bag and settled comfortably in his seat, careful not to disturb her, and flipped through the pages until he got to where heâd let off.
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
You opened your eyes slowly, your brain fogged with sleep, and your limbs tingled from the uncomfortable position. You looked to your left and saw the sunlight spilling through the window, but it wasnât right above you just yet, so you figured it must have been 9 or 10 am. You blinked, mentally going over your name, what date it was and where you were, and thenâŠ
Wait, wasnât I sleeping with my head against the window?
You turned your gaze a bit to the right and realization hit you like a truck.
âOh my god!â you exclaimed as you jolted and pulled your head sharply off the strangerâs shoulder.
âItâs all right, donât worry,â he hurried to say, his voice soft and gentle, and a smile flickered across his face, the dimples on his cheeks quickly appearing and disappearing. He closed the book he was reading after signalling the page with the bookmark.
âThis is so embarrassing.â You said, heat rushing to your cheeks, and you laughed under your breath, muffling your words by covering your face with the palms of your hands.
âHey,â he shifted slightly towards you and shook his head, âno big deal. Really.â You took a peek at him to see if he was serious and he let out a chuckle. A genuine one. âYou were out cold and looked so peaceful. Honestly, it felt like a crime to wake you up.â He shrugged, lips curving into a quiet, toothless smile.
You lowered your hands, exhaling deeply.
âWow, thatâs the kindest thing anyoneâs done for me in days,â you blurted out, mostly to yourself, but he caught it.
âWhat do you mean?â
You hesitated, fingers tugging at the hem of your denim jacket, debating whether you should explain your current situation to this random guy. Then, you remembered youâd spent God knows how long sleeping on his shoulder. Apparently, your body unconsciously took him for a safe place. So you figured you kinda owed it to him.Â
âI live in New York, but my family is in San Francisco,â you paused, clearing your throat. âMy mom had a car accident three days ago and was admitted to the hospital.â The words came out heavier than you meant to, your eyes getting glassier. âWhen I asked my boss for some time off to visit her, the shithead said I could go but that the days would be docked from my pay.â
You let out a small, humourless laugh and the guy shook his head.Â
âThen came the question of the flights. The time options werenât the best and they cost one arm, both legs and possibly a kidney, so I had to resort to bus tickets,â you tilted your head to the side to emphasize your following point, âwhich led me to be stuck on busses for two days straight, sleeping whenever I can because I canât afford a place to spend the night, so⊠yeah.â
âIâm really sorry to hear all that.â His expression softened, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in sympathy. âDo you have any news about your mom?â
âYeah, my older brotherâs been keeping me posted. She took a pretty hard hit to the head and was unconscious until yesterday, but now sheâs awake and stable. The doctors are keeping her under observation and running tests to check for any sequels.â
He gave you an acknowledging nod as he weighed the right words, but nothing came out. He just flashed you a lopsided smile. After a beat, he extended his hand.
âIâm Sam, by the way.â
âOh, how formal,â you took his hand, laughing softly, and becoming too aware of the spark that ran through your arm. You told him your name and said it was nice meeting him, despite the circumstances.
He returned the feeling and you took the chance to ask about him, about how he ended up on this bus. He didnât give you any specific details but he did say he was going to Sacramento to âhelp his dad with a work thingâ and that his older brother wasnât really happy with his decision.
If you were being honest, curiosity was getting the best of you â you didnât consider yourself a nosey person, but a little voice inside of you told you he needed someone to talk to.
However, you decided not to press further, and instead, you pointed at the book on his lap.
âSo, what are you reading?â
The change in subject instantly lit him up. Samâs eyes brightened and his dimples deepened as he held the cover towards you while he told you who the author was and briefly summarized the plot.
You couldnât stop your heart from skipping a beat at how handsome he was.
From there, the conversation unfolded easily. You talked about the book you were reading, and then moved on your favorite movies, musicians, and even your favorite food. At some point, he even did an impression of Dean, his older brother, teasing him about his taste in music. You laughed so hard that you had to cover your mouth with your hand to prevent yourself from snorting.Â
Two hours slipped by minutes, and suddenly, the driver announced the next stop â yours. You had to gather your things quickly and hop on, thank God, the final bus.
You stood up and Sam brought his long legs closer to his to let you slide to the other side.
âSo⊠this is me.â
Sam nodded, his smile softening, and his eyes lingered on you for a second too long, as if he wasnât ready to let that moment go. Honestly, you werenât so sure you were ready either.
âI hope your mom gets better soon.â He said, almost shyly.Â
âThank you, Sam.â You returned the smile and crouched down to place a soft peck on his cheek. âFor everything.â
It was cute how warmth spread across both your faces â yours because of your foreign boldness and Samâs because youâd caught him off guard.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked towards the bus door. The outside air hit you, colder than you had expected, and you looked back on the bus one last time. Sam was still watching you, a soft smile on his face, so you waved at him and he returned the gesture with a nod.
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
Later that day, after spending the whole afternoon with your mom while your brother was at work, you went to your brotherâs apartment to have a quick but much needed shower and catch at least two hours of sleep. Now, however, the heaviness that had been pressing on your chest since you got the first call from the doctors seemed a lot lighter now: they told you your mom would be discharged tomorrow morning.
You dropped your bag on the floor and began pulling out toiletries and other stuff you needed, and then while you were emptying the pockets of your jacket, filled with remnants of your journey: bus tickets, receipts and candy packaging, your fingers brushed against a small folded piece of paper you didnât recognize.Â
Your heart thudded as you opened it carefully.
It was a note.
âHey, would you mind sending me a quick text when you get to your mom so I know you arrived safely? Hereâs my number: 1-866-907-3235.â
Beneath it, in slightly slanted handwriting, there was a second line:
âIt was really nice meeting you, and I hope we cross paths again soon. Looking forward to you falling asleep on my shoulder some time again. - Sam.â
âïœĄïŸâïžïœĄâïœĄ ïŸâŸ ïŸïœĄâ
end note: i'm blushing and my heart is blooming in my chest. i wish i could grab sammy's cheeks and give him a forehead kissđ„°.
thank you for taking the time to read it and if you liked it, please leave a reblog, like and/or a comment. iâd love to read your feeedback and interact with you â€ïž
btw, my requests are always open here, so feel free to drop any idea or ask. or even if you just wanna say hi, iâd be absolutely happy to read your message!
also, here's my masterlist in case you want to read more of the nonsense i writeđ.
Summary: you decide to hide Aaron's ties. He goes to work without one. Chaos ensues.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
âWould you look at that?â Emily gaped. Penelope stared, âOh my hotchness,â
By the threshold, their Section Chief, Aaron Hotchner, was talking to one of their support agents. However, what caught their eye was his outfit. His suit jacket foregone, shirt sleeves rolled up, and those toned rippling muscles but the cherry on top?
No tie.
âOkay, one question and one answer,â he addressed the team that gathered at the bullpen. Morgan immediately countered. âWe only need one anyway,â
âWhereâs your tie?â Penelope asked away. Their curiosity bursting through the seams the moment he comes through without one, âItâs not that we donât like the new look itâs justâŠâ
âYou donât go to work without one,â Reid finished.
His team impatiently waited for an answer as he smirked then softly laughed at what just transpired this morning.
âMy girlfriend decided to hide them,â he honestly answered, as the girls squealed, âI attempted to coax itsâ location out of her, but she didnât yield despite my best efforts so Iâve no tie today it seems,â
Was that an innuendo? Or did he simply try to talk to you to get his ties back?
His message went through the ladies as their cheeks burned at the thought of your morning shenanigans. On the other hand, the innuendo made Rossi and Morgan smile but went straight through Reidâs head.
âOkay, back to work, guys,â
âIâm liking his new girlfriend,â JJ said, as they walked away from the bullpen, âThose dimples are showing,â
Written for day 6. delayed flight of @steddieholidaydrabbles. (I will get back on track, I swear, the SAD is just a bit overwhelming.) | Rating: T | Words: 725 | Tags: modern au, no upside down, regular person steve, rock star eddie, meet-cute, roomies stobin
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âSteve! What is this?!â
Steve blinked awake to Robin showing her phone into his face as she sat literally on top of him, pinning his shins under her weight. She was showing him a blurry picture with text. He batted it away and reached for his glasses.
âWhat the hell, Robin? I just fell asleep.â
The bed under him pounced as Robin threw herself down next to him. He finally got his glasses on and looked at the phone again while Robin kicked her feet nervously.
On the screen of Robinâs phone was a picture of him and that hot stranger heâd met at the airport yesterday when his flight had been delayed. He could still remember the way his lips had felt on his own as theyâd kissed in that airport sleeping pod, not the best of places to kiss a handsome stranger, but the chemistry between them had been instant and consuming. And theyâd done far more than kiss, making him thankful it was a soundproof sleeping pod, if not one that was out of sight enough. He skimmed the text accompanying the photos, his groggy mind not quite wanting to focus on the words, except the name.
He looked up at Robin. âWhoâs Eddie Munson?â
She threw up her hands and buried her face in her hands. âYou tell me, you clearly know him better than I do or would ever care to. Just read.â
He did.
Words like âmystery manâ and âhandsome strangerâ were all that were used for him, as he had apparently escaped recognition so far even in this age of social media, but for him⊠âEddie Munson.â âCorroded Coffin front man.â âScandalous.â
Robin was staring at him as he looked up.
âWhat?â
âThat is you, donât try deny it. You were at Boston Logan yesterday.â
He had been, catching a flight back to LAX after visiting Dustin at MIT. But his flight had been delayed and heâd ended up talking to a handsome tattooed stranger, a wide smile, and an even more talented tongue. Big hair and doe eyes looking up at him wetly as cheeks hollowed...
He was suddenly completely awake and scrambling for his own phone, yanking it off its charger in his haste.
Flicking through his contacts he landed on the new one labeled âEddieâ with a photo of a dark haired man sticking his tongue out and making devil horns above his head with his fingers. It was now him showing his phone to Robinâs face.
She batted him away, just like heâd done to her. âYes, thatâs Eddie Munson. Congratulations on your conquest.â
Steve felt a little gooey as he looked down at his phone and the picture of the man making a goofy face, the same man who featured in the photos on that photo on Robinâs phone, exciting the sleep pod hand in hand with Steve, whose hair clearly looked messy in a way that said someone had been running their hands through it. You could almost see the hearts floating between them. Theyâd both had flights to catch, leaving each other wanting.
âFuck,â Steve said, breathless. It had been good, a chance encounter that had felt like it could become more, because they had exchanged numbers after kissing for far longer than anyone having just a hookup would have. But now photoâs of them were on the internet, would likely soon be all over because Eddie was famous. Why hadnât he said? Why and how had Steve not known? âI didnât know he had such a talented mouth.â
Robin shoved him. âDonât wanna know!â
Steve was about to retort something quite bitchy, because part of him was quite annoyed that Robin had been hiding the existence of the dish that was Eddie Munson from him, as irrational as he knew that was. He didnât mean to objectify Eddie, but damn. He was just Steveâs type, all big doe eyes, big hair and a no-nonsense attitude, but with a softness that rounded the edges.
And he was calling Steve. On the phone in his hand.
He stared at Robin, paralyzed for a moment, but then swiping to answer and bringing the phone to his ear.
âSo, I may have forgotten to tell you somethingâŠâ Eddie drawled into his ear in what was the start of something unexpected, but definitely very welcome.
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Summary: Lan Zhanâs local library is closed for renovations, so he takes his son to the Yiling Branch. They happen to arrive in time for Story Hour, and Lan Zhan meets (and falls for) the head childrenâs librarian.
Kay's comments: Always fun to see Lan Zhan falling hard and fast in love with Wei Wuxian and here's the added bonus of them technically being co-workers.
Excerpt: A few children skirt around Lan Zhan and skip over to the laughing man.
âMr. Wei! Mr. Wei! When is storytime starting?â a little girl asks, almost stepping behind the desk to reach the man. Lan Zhan suspects she very much wants to pet the bird puppet.
Mr. Wei, for that seems to be his name, squats down so heâs level with the gaggle of small children. âAiyah, please forgive Mr. Wei! I lost track of time. Storytime is starting in two minutes. AâQing, go grab your adults and Iâll let you in soon, okay?â
The little girl nods, her pigtails bouncing. Mr. Wei smiles again as the children scurry off.
AâYuan nudges at his thigh, and Lan Zhan looks down. âAâDie! Can we go to storytime?â
pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, pre-relationship, librarian lan wangji, librarian wei wuxian, co-workers, fluff, single parent lan wangji, books, good parent lan wangji, meet-cute
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like â or think others might like â this story.)
rosekiller meet-cute where evan pulls up to the function dressed in an "i only get on my knees for jesus" shirt, and barty is wearing one that says "jesus has rizzen" with illustrations of jesus wearing sunglasses